#I don’t know what I like better in this situation

[pucksandpower]

Crash Course Correction

Lando Norris x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: the Austrian Grand Prix left your boyfriends less than pleased with each other, so you decide to do something about it

The tension in the air is palpable as you stride into the living room, your eyes darting between Max and Lando. They’re seated on opposite ends of the couch, arms crossed, deliberately avoiding each other’s gaze.

The aftermath of their crash at the Austrian Grand Prix still lingers, a cloud of unresolved anger and frustration hanging over them.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what’s to come. “Alright, boys,” you announce, your voice firm but tinged with exasperation. “This ends now.”

Max’s head snaps up, his blue eyes narrowing. “What are you on about?”

Lando, unable to resist, chimes in with a snort. “Probably about how you can’t drive for shit.”

“Me?” Max’s voice rises an octave. “You’re the one who-”

“Enough!” You cut them off, hands on your hips. “I’ve had it with this childish bickering. You two are going to sit here and work this out, or so help me, you’ll both be sleeping on this couch until you do.”

The threat hangs in the air for a moment before Lando breaks the silence. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” you reply, your tone leaving no room for argument. “I love you both, but I’m not dealing with this anymore. Sort it out.”

Max leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Y/N, come on. It’s not that simple. He-”

“No excuses,” you interrupt. “Talk to each other, not to me. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” With that, you turn on your heel and march out of the room, leaving the two drivers to face each other.

For a long moment, neither speaks. The ticking of the clock on the wall seems to grow louder with each passing second.

Finally, Lando breaks. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Max grunts in agreement. “Yeah, well, welcome to life with Y/N. Stubborn as hell.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lando retorts, but there’s less heat in his words now.

Max sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Look, about the race ...”

Lando tenses. “What about it?”

“I ... I might have been a bit aggressive in that turn,” Max admits grudgingly.

Lando’s eyebrows shoot up. “A bit?”

“Hey, you weren’t exactly backing off either,” Max counters, but his tone is more defensive than accusatory.

Lando opens his mouth to argue, then closes it, considering. “Fair point,” he concedes after a moment. “I guess we were both pushing pretty hard.”

The admission seems to ease some of the tension in the room. Max nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s what we do, isn’t it? Push to the limit.”

“Yeah,” Lando agrees, a matching smile forming. “Sometimes we just ... overstep that limit.”

There’s another pause, but this one feels less strained. Max breaks it, his voice softer now. “I am sorry, you know. For how it ended up. It wasn’t what I wanted.”

Lando’s expression softens. “I know. Me too. It’s just ... frustrating, you know? We both lost out on a podium.”

Max nods emphatically. “Tell me about it. The team was not happy.”

“Christian give you an earful?” Lando asks, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Max groans. “Like you wouldn’t believe. You?”

“Zak was ... not thrilled,” Lando admits with a grimace. “But I think Andrea was even worse.”

They share a look of mutual understanding, the shared experience of team disappointment bridging the gap between them.

“You know,” Max says slowly, “maybe we should ... I don’t know, talk more? In the paddock, I mean. Try to avoid these situations.”

Lando tilts his head, considering. “Yeah, that could help. Better communication, less ... assuming the other will back off.”

“Exactly,” Max agrees, warming to the idea. “We’re both competitive as hell, but maybe we can find a way to race hard without ... well, this.”

Lando nods, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I’d like that. It’s more fun when we’re both actually finishing the race.”

Max chuckles. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, the earlier tension replaced by a tentative camaraderie. They’re both quiet for a moment, processing the change.

“So,” Lando ventures, “think this counts as making up? Because I really don’t fancy sleeping on this couch. It’s not exactly built for comfort.”

Max laughs outright at that. “God, no. My back would never forgive me.” He pauses, then calls out, “Schatje? You can come back now. We’ve sorted it.”

You poke your head around the corner, eyeing them suspiciously. “Have you really? Or are you just saying that to get out of couch duty?”

Lando holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Cross my heart. We’ve had a proper talk and everything.”

You step fully into the room, your gaze moving between them. “And? What did you decide?”

Max and Lando exchange a glance before Max speaks. “We’re going to work on communicating better about what happens on the track. Try to avoid these ... incidents.”

“And off track?” You prompt, not quite satisfied.

Lando jumps in. “We’re good, love. Really. Water under the bridge and all that.”

You study them for a moment longer before your posture relaxes. “Alright, I believe you. But if I hear one more word about that crash ...”

“You won’t,” Max assures you quickly. “Promise.”

You nod, finally allowing yourself to smile. “Good. Now, who wants dinner? I’m starving.”

As you turn to head back to the kitchen, Lando calls out, “Hey, Y/N?”

You pause, looking back. “Yeah?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Just for the record, if we had to sleep on the couch ... would it have been together, or ...”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the laugh that escapes. “In your dreams, Norris.”

Max snorts. “As if I’d share a couch with you anyway. You kick in your sleep.”

“Oi!” Lando protests. “I’ll have you know I’m a perfect sleeping companion.”

“Sure you are,” Max teases. “That’s why Y/N always complains about your snoring.”

You decide to intervene before they can start bickering again, albeit more playfully this time. “Alright, children. Less arguing, more helping with dinner.”

They both groan dramatically but get up to follow you into the kitchen. As you start pulling out ingredients, you can’t help but smile at the easy banter now flowing between them.

“So,” Max says, leaning against the counter, “what’s for dinner?”

You shrug. “I was thinking pasta. Simple and quick.”

Lando perks up. “Ooh, can we have garlic bread too?”

“Only if you make it,” you counter, tossing him a loaf of Italian bread.

He catches it with a grin. “Challenge accepted.”

As Lando busies himself with the garlic bread and you start on the pasta sauce, Max hovers nearby, looking slightly lost.

“Don’t just stand there,” you chide gently. “Make yourself useful. Chop some vegetables or something.”

Max grimaces. “You know I’m useless in the kitchen.”

Lando laughs. “Come on, Max. Even you can’t mess up chopping vegetables. Here, I’ll show you.”

To your surprise, Max allows Lando to guide him through the process, their earlier animosity completely forgotten. You watch them with a warm feeling in your chest, grateful that your plan worked out better than you could have hoped.

As the kitchen fills with the aroma of garlic and herbs, the conversation flows easily between the three of you. Racing stories blend with personal anecdotes, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful jab.

“Remember that time in Monaco,” Lando says between giggles, “when Daniel thought it’d be a good idea to-”

“Oh God,” Max groans, but he’s smiling. “Don’t remind me. I still can’t look at inflatable flamingos the same way.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”

They exchange a look before answering in unison, “Probably not.”

The pasta is almost done when Max suddenly says, “You know, I’m glad we sorted this out.”

Lando nods, his expression sincere. “Me too. It’s ... nice, this. Being able to just be together without the pressure.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees softly. “Sometimes I forget we’re not just rivals, you know? We’re ... partners.”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, weighted with meaning. You hold your breath, waiting to see how Lando will respond.

A slow smile spreads across Lando’s face. “Yeah, we are. Even if you are a pain in the arse sometimes.”

Max laughs, the sound full and genuine. “Right back at you, mate.”

You can’t help but join in their laughter, relief and happiness bubbling up inside you. This is what you’d hoped for — not just a truce, but a real reconnection.

As you all sit down to eat, the conversation continues to flow. You find yourself content to just listen, watching the way Max and Lando interact. There’s a new ease between them, a understanding that goes beyond their shared profession.

��You know,” you say during a lull in the conversation, “I’m proud of you both. For working this out.”

They both look slightly embarrassed at the praise, but pleased nonetheless.

“Well,” Lando says, a teasing lilt to his voice, “we couldn’t very well let you win, could we? Threatening us with the couch, honestly.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Max chuckles. “She’s got us there.”

As the evening winds down, you find yourself curled up on the couch between them, a movie playing on the TV. It’s some action flick that none of you are really paying attention to, too content in each other’s company.

“Hey,” Max says softly, his arm draped around your shoulders. “Thanks for this. For ... pushing us to talk.”

Lando hums in agreement from your other side. “Yeah, we can be right idiots sometimes. It’s good to have someone to knock some sense into us.”

You smile, warmth spreading through you. “That’s what I’m here for. Someone has to keep you two in line.”

They both laugh at that, the sound harmonizing in a way that makes your heart swell.

As the credits roll on the forgotten movie, you realize that this — this moment of peace and companionship — is exactly what you’d been hoping for.

It’s not always easy loving two Formula 1 drivers. The competition, the pressure, the constant travel ... it can all take its toll.

But moments like this? They make it all worthwhile.

You snuggle deeper into the couch, surrounded by the warmth of the two men you love. “So,” you say, unable to resist one last tease, “I guess you’ve both earned your bed privileges back, huh?”

Max and Lando exchange a look over your head before Max speaks. “Actually ... I was thinking maybe we could all just stay here for a bit longer. This is ... nice.”

Lando nods in agreement. “Yeah, no rush to move. Unless you want to, of course,” he adds quickly.

You smile, touched by their reluctance to end the moment. “Here is perfect,” you assure them.

As you settle in for another movie, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, that crash was a blessing in disguise. It forced a confrontation that needed to happen, cleared the air in a way that casual interaction never could.

And now, curled up between Max and Lando, their earlier rivalry forgotten in favor of shared laughter and warm companionship, you know that whatever challenges come next, you’ll face them together.

As a team.

As a family.

[6esiree]

Tying Pink Bows On Their Ears, Wings, & Tails

Imagine convincing Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, Adam, Sir Pentious, and Saint Peter to let you tie a bow on some part of them?

Alastor:

How did you manage to convince Alastor to allow you to tie pink bows on his ears, or better yet, his tail? You didn’t, you simply took advantage of the fact he decided to pass out on his stomach, his snores muffled by your pillow. ‘It’ll only be a quick nap,’ Alastor told you, and you believed him, his slender legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Unfortunately for him, your nimble fingers worked amazingly under pressure, his shadow watching on with a wicked smile on its face.

“Oh, I feel much better now, rejuvenated even!” Alastor sighed as he stirred awake, blinking in confusion at the feeling of some sort of tendril caressing his brow. “What is this?” He asked, reaching up to assess it between his thumb and his forefinger, his ear twitching sensitively upon experimentally tugging at it. “A—is this a ribbon?”

“Noooo, why’d you have to do that?” You whined, watching him undo your handiwork in a matter of seconds as he stared back at you, seemingly unimpressed. “I didn’t get to take a picture!” Alastor seized your chin, leaning in to place a fleeting kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Oh, sweetness,” He whispered against your skin, “I cannot be seen in such frivolous things.”

You pouted at him, but when he turned around, you had to stifle your laughter as your eyes trailed down to his backside. Poor, unsuspecting Alastor, you thought—until he grabbed his coat and peered down at you from over his shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. ‘Ah! I almost forgot,’ He started, ‘Help me with this last bow, won’t you?’ The worst part was that he had the audacity to teasingly wag his tail. The bastard. But you complied anyway, albeit begrudgingly.

Lucifer:

You didn’t have to convince Lucifer to tie some pink bows on him, nope. So long as you did it in the privacy of your shared bedroom, he told you, you could do whatever your heart desired. However, as he sat with his back facing you, mentally prepared to have his hair braided and entwined with ribbons, you whispered against his neck, ‘Luci, baby, can I see your tail?’ He blinked before eventually stuttering, ‘Oh, sure!’ curious to find out what you had in store for him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” You admitted, eliciting a squeak from Lucifer as you wrapped your hand around the base of his tail, squeezing it ever so slightly. “Look, honey, I don’t mind you doing that,” He started, subtly rubbing his thighs together, “But, uhh, ya know! My tail’s very—and I mean very—sensitive.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” You said, placing an apologetic kiss on his nape, making him shiver. “Oh, I know you did that on purpose,” Lucifer chuckled, shooting you a grin from over his shoulder, the end of his tail affectionately caressing your jaw. “Now, do what you asked of me before I change my mind.”

While you would have loved to tease Lucifer just a bit more, you desperately wanted to know how his tail looked in pink bows. So, you got to work, a smile growing on your face as you observed the way his body relaxed. It took you a while, but your fingers never ceased their movements, tying bow after bow on the vast expanse of his tail. ‘Done!’ You excitedly announced, clasping your hands together in delight. Lucifer could only stare at you in utter adoration, his tail swishing back and forth.

Husk:

Oh, you practically had to beg Husk to allow you to tie pink bows on him, whether it was on his ears, wings, or tail. The concept was just so embarrassing to him, but as you fell down onto your knees, your cheek pressed up against his crotch while you fluttered your lashes at him in promise, he acquiesced. ‘Christ, fine! Do whateva ya want,’ Husk huffed, bringing you up from the ground before the situation could escalate, an excited squeal seeping past your lips.

“Huskkk, can you stop, like, moving so much?” You asked, trying to tie a bow on the base of his wings, but he kept jumping, the fur on his spine raising every time the soft satin fell. “Ya can’t expect me not to move—it feels funny, alright?” Husk admitted, so you mumbled ‘Fine,’ and moved onto his tail. “What about here?”

“Still sensitive, but not as much,” Husk shrugged, but the way he rolled his shoulders as you ran your enclosed hands from the base of his tail down to his feathers said otherwise. “Hm, okay,” You said, grabbing the ribbon from earlier and getting to work, your eyes darting between your hands and his back, gauging his reaction.

A smile graced your lips as you stared down at your handiwork, the pink standing out against his dark fur. ‘Oh my goodness,’ You sighed, placing a hand over your heart, ‘You look so fucking cute.’ Instead of responding, Husk suddenly pounced on you, pinning you to the bed. ‘Ya gonna come through on ya promise?’ He asked, his tail swishing back and forth behind him, but how could you take him seriously with a giant pink bow tied to him? He growled as you laughed at him.

Vox:

At first, Vox said no to you when you asked if you could tie a pink bow on him. But then you straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around his waist, dropping your head onto his shoulder with a pout—how could he say no to that? ‘Fine, but I’m going to take it off afterwards, understood?’ Vox made it clear to you. He rolled his eyes, but he also couldn’t help but chuckle as you hopped off of his lap, telling him you’d be back before you ran out of his office.

“This is ridiculous,” Vox sighed, watching you remove his hat and place it on the desk behind you. “To you? Yes. But to me? Nah,” You said, grabbing a pink satin ribbon, fixing to tie it to his crooked antenna. “Woah, woah! Slow down there, sweetheart,” He reached up and grabbed your wrist, your fingers anxiously twitching.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked, but then he moved your hand to his other antenna. “No, I just recommend you try this one instead, that’s all,” Vox simply said, releasing your wrist when you shrugged, his hands falling onto your thighs. “Oh, alright.”

As you tied the soft satin around Vox’s straight antenna, you felt his body sink into the chair, peering down to see his eyes shut and his claws flexing mindlessly against your skin. You smiled at that, purposely drawing out your ministrations so he could relax just a little bit longer. ‘All done,’ You whispered, fluffing out the bow, but you were met with silence instead of a response. Vox had fallen asleep, you realized, and oh, he made for such an adorable sight.

Adam:

You brought your head up from Adam’s lap, wiping your mouth clean with the back of your hand as you blinked away your tears. ‘Satisfied?’ You arched a brow at him, receiving a lazy nod and a wonky smile in response. Under no circumstance could you tie pink bows on him—that’s what Adam told you when you first asked, but you knew that was a lie. You felt triumphant as you crawled onto the bed and sat behind him, caging him with your thighs.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening,” Adam groaned, feeling utterly embarrassed even though nobody but you would get to see him. “You’re such a baby, I swear,” You said, quickly adding the next part when he shot you a warning look over his shoulder, “My baby, though.” You leaned in and stole a kiss from his lips.

“Stop, that’s so cheesy—just get it over with, alright?” Adam huffed, turning around before you could see the blush growing on his face. “Well, if you sit still, I’ll be done in no time,” You hummed, trying not to giggle as his wings slightly fluttered, clearly affected by the sensation of the soft satin ribbon. “Hey, don’t you fly away from me just yet.”

Somehow, you managed to decorate Adam’s wings with many bows, but they were mostly loose and ready to fall off at any given moment. You also ended up taking longer than you should have because of all his movement; still, he looked cute, and you couldn’t help but let him know that. ‘Never thought I’d say this but, damn, do you look cute,’ You sighed, wrapping your arms around his stomach. ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ Adam mumbled, his heart feeling full.

Sir Pentious:

How could Sir Pentious say no to you when you asked him if you could tie a pink bow on him? Much like Lucifer, he would allow you to do whatever your heart desired, so long as it was reasonable. There was no harm in something as innocent as a simple accessory, your only issue being what to tie. You tried his tail at first, but when he experimentally slithered away, it came off in a matter of seconds. So, you decided to focus on something else instead.

“Ohhh, that feels rather funny,” Sir Pentious shivered as your hands felt down his hood. “Do you think if I tied a bow in the middle that it would look like you have a ponytail?” You asked, receiving a contemplative hum in response from him.

“Perhapsss it would,” Pentious said, feeling the soft satin ribbon caress him. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, sighing in relaxation at your ministrations. “Oh my goodness, it does,” You giggled, being careful not to make the bow too tight. “Oh, that’s…wonderful.”

You rounded the serpent, staring at him and admiring him more than your handiwork. ‘How do I look?’ Pentious expectantly clasped his hands in front of his chest, his face growing warm as you approached him, your lips mere centimeters away from his. ‘Breathtaking,’ You said, reaching out to cradle his jaw. ‘Oh! Well, I, uh, thank you very much,’ Pentious nervously chuckled. ‘Shall we show the others your fine work?’ You gave him a quick kiss before nodding, making him melt.

Saint Peter:

When you asked Saint Peter if you could tie pink bows on his wings, he blinked, wondering why you’d want to do that. ‘Well, why not?’ You said, a coy smile playing on your lips. Fair enough. He turned his back to you, his wings fluttering in anticipation as you delicately ran your fingers down the expanse of them. They were so soft and a beautiful shade of blue, and you could already imagine how ethereal Peter would look with delicate satin ribbons clinging onto his feathers.

“If they’re too sensitive then I can just stop, you know,” You hummed against Peter’s neck, but he quickly shook his head. “No, no, that’s not necessary,” He chuckled nervously, doing his best to steady his wings as you tried to tie a bow on the base for starters. “I’m simply not used to having them touched, that’s all.”

“I should touch them more often, then,” You said, leaning away from him so you could focus on the task at hand, and oh, he was thankful for that. His face flushed, already having a general idea about what you meant. “Ah, well, I’m not entirely opposed to that,” Peter coughed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Maybe after we’re done?” You whispered, “The night is still young.”

You tried not to chuckle as you felt him shift in front of you, tying bow after bow wherever you could. ‘There, all done!’ You announced, admiring how beautiful his wings looked in the pink satin. ‘Oh, well, won’t you look at that!’ Peter said, getting up and approaching the nearest mirror, carefully spreading his wings so as to not ruin your handiwork. You sighed at that, craning your neck and squinting at him affectionately. He’s such an angel, you thought as he smiled at you.

[vigilskeep]

Do you have any kind of analysis of Cassandra's character? I find how you talk about her so interesting and different from how the rest of the fandom refers to her

i wouldn’t say i know her very well; i’ve never yet done her personal quest and i don’t bring her out a lot. here are... some notes? displayed messily

cassandra is first and foremost a violent person. when she doesn’t know how to solve a problem, she leads with violence; her interrogation of varric, her reaction when he brought hawke to skyhold, threatening to execute solas simply for failing to produce results with his tests on the anchor when the herald was first found. chancellor roderick says this outright—and you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the chantry—but her use for divinia justinia was as a blunt tool, not capable of subtlety or diplomacy. unlike other members of the inquisition, she is not very capable of exerting power in other ways than violence, and she has spent her entire life expecting to hold power in any situation

cassandra could have been the inquisitor. she’s pretty much the obvious choice. she has to be actively dodging that to go on a wild goose chase to find the hero of ferelden and then the champion, and then still to evade it further and hand it over to the herald, who she may not even approve of. at haven, she at least appears at the war table. at skyhold, she doesn’t, having further and further removed herself from the role. if she does get along with your inquisitor, it suggests faith in your choices, following your lead. but it has a kind of different unique effect if she doesn’t rlly get along with your inquisitor, where it really feels like she’s been pushed out or allowed herself to be pushed out of the movement she started. either way her movement to be divine feels related to not having taken that lead position before

she gets very caught up in her own perspective on a situation. i think often of when she laughs at the herald and says “is that what you see?” when they ask if this isn’t still part of the chantry, which is what literally anyone normal would see. or her infamous comment to lavellan about whether or not there’s room among their gods for one more, completely missing that this would be a bizarre thing for them to ask of her. or describing varric’s andrastianism as “deep down, his heart is virtuous” to a non-andrastian inquisitor. etc, etc. it doesn’t occur to her to censor herself or consider how her words come across to other people who don’t have the same beliefs she does. she probably has mostly only been exposed to people who don’t have the same beliefs she does as idk antagonists and opposition, as the “criminals” she has to interrogate

she overthinks the consequences of her actions, the weight of history bearing down, in a way that suggests a kind of preoccupation with the assumption that her actions and life will be written of. nobody who reads as many of varric tethras’ books as she does isn’t kind of into that, despite her complaints. when a character constantly self-criticises but you only get approval from saying “no you’re totally good and cool and did the best you could!!!” and disapproval and sudden defensiveness from saying “yeah that was a bad move i’m glad you’re thinking about it”, i think i can come to some pretty safe conclusions about what that character really thinks and what they want to hear

her comments about “change” in her vision for the chantry are confusing at best, considering that she distinguishes herself from leliana almost exclusively by saying that leliana would change too much. her point is largely to restore things as they were, but all the things she’s restoring will, you know, somehow be better now. with very little discussion of how that could actually be achieved, as far as i can tell. even if i did agree with her end goal, i don’t think she would instil confidence

i don’t dislike cassandra i think she’s quite interesting but i don’t find her either admirable or sufficiently entertaining in order to want her approval or to hang out with her really so she does get a little left to the wayside in my attempted playthroughs personally

[taizi]

now the darkness comes alive

rise of the tmnt movie canon divergence word count: 10k characters: raph & leo

welcome to a very self-indulgent roleswap au that i started dreaming up in my friend’s turtle discord. big thank you to rem for the song rec that gave me the insp to finish (and name!) the fic, and also to lake, sara and meeks for enabling my insane behavior <3

oh, now the darkness comes alive it comes for me and i come for you

—brother, the rural alberta advantage

read on ao3

x

The Krang’s spike pierces through plastron and flesh with a sickening crunch and Leo makes an awful punched-out sound. Raph is seconds too slow, and seconds is all it takes for his entire world to end. 

For the past two years, they’ve been at constant odds, Leo going out of his way to undermine and annoy him. Every interaction was laced with frustration, hurt, worry, confusion. Why are you being like this? Raph wanted to ask, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake until an answer came out. What did I do to you?

It was a miserable way to live. Being angry at someone you love more than anything, having nowhere to put it down, forced to hold onto it and hold onto it and hold onto it. Every day another argument, every night laying awake and hoping that tomorrow would be different. 

He missed Leo. He missed how they used to be. He didn’t know why Pops’ announcement had turned them against each other. He hadn’t thought anything would be able to do that. 

Once or twice Raph had a moment of weakness and imagined what it would be like if he just quit. If he went to Splinter and told him he was done. Let someone else be the oldest, the biggest, the one who carried everyone else. But that thought was always followed instantly by another, louder one—how small would he feel if he didn’t have little turtles climbing on his back and sitting on his shoulders? How empty would his arms be if he didn’t have anyone to carry in them? 

That’s the whole point. That’s why he’s so afraid. That’s why being left alone drives him straight past anxious and into a blackout. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. 

And now he’s living his worst nightmare. He’s living outside his own body, watching from somewhere else. It doesn’t feel real. 

His little brother, his little Leo, crumpled beneath him, blood staining bright blue an ugly rust color. His chest is heaving as if each breath hurts and his eyes are wide and wet. He’s gazing up at Raph like they’re children again. It’s the way he looked when he was afraid of a thunderstorm or he was about to get in trouble and he needed Raph to make it better. He always looked at Raph first. 

The monsters behind them are laughing. One of them starts talking, the sound coming closer at a leisurely pace. They aren’t safe. Leo is bleeding. Raph is afraid to touch him, shaking hands hovering over his cracked plastron. He doesn’t know what to do. His mind is white with panic. 

He has the escape pod in his hand, not yet activated. He doesn’t know if it’s safe to use it. Leo is skewered to the ground, pinned like a butterfly to corkboard. Donnie’s tech is highly intuitive, all of it programmed into S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s AI infrastructure, and maybe the pod would know to account for the particulars of the situation, but there almost definitely isn’t a way to remove Leo safely in the seconds they don’t really have to work with. 

Leo blinks, and the wetness in his eyes spills out, and Raph just wants to pick him up. Carry him somewhere safe. Leo has always been larger than life, but right now he looks impossibly small. 

“Hey, hey,” Raphael soothes, the same way he has a thousand times before, after bad dreams and skinned knees, “you’re okay. Raph’s here, you’re okay.”

Those gold eyes slide to the side, looking at a point behind Raph. Leo’s arm moves, and something cold and solid presses against Raph’s chest. It’s the key, and Leo’s hand is trembling so hard that Raph’s closes around it instinctively, taking the weight of it from him. 

Because he’s Leo, the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“I told you,” he says hoarsely. It somehow manages to sound wry, like they’re in on a joke together. “I got it.”

Then he uses the hand that Raph isn’t holding to activate the escape pod lingering between them and pushes it those scant few fatal inches forward. Raph doesn’t realize what the beep means until the pod unfolds in front of him and yanks him unceremoniously away from his brother.

“No,” Raph says, light-headed with fear, “no!” 

But a machine couldn’t possibly understand the wrong it was doing. What it was leaving behind. Raph pummels the inside of the pod hysterically but without his ninpo he can’t do enough to damage something Donnie built specifically to safeguard their family. It lifts him up and away and Leo’s crooked little smile gets smaller and smaller until it’s gone.  

——

When the pod touches down in the lair and releases him, the world around Raph is strangely muffled. There’s a ringing in his ears. He thinks he can hear voices but it’s all just noise. Nothing fully clears the chaos in his own head. 

Donatello is directly in front of him, and his hands are white-knuckled on the side of an empty blue pod. He looks like he already knows something went very wrong. His eyes are bright gold, a mirror of his twin’s, and the quiet fear in them places Raph directly back inside the warehouse, surrounded by monsters, too late to protect anyone, Leo’s blood on his hands, Leo looking up at him— 

Raph’s stomach lurches and he turns sharply away. His gaze lands on Casey Jones instead, who appraises him warily in turn, slim shoulders going stiff beneath the battered Genius Built armor. 

“Leo went back for the key,” Raph says, his voice a deep growling thing that cuts through the noise and brings down a curtain of stillness. He holds the stupid thing out, and if it were made of anything less than strange alien stone, his grip would have crushed it into pieces. Casey’s eyes drop to it and brighten, like it’s a good thing that it’s here even though Leo’s not. Relief floods every inch of his face until he looks even younger than he did already. 

“He got it,” the boy says reverently, taking it in both hands. “I knew he would.”

Raphael wants to scream. He wants to step back and let some other version of himself take the reins while he finds a hole to cry in. He doesn’t want to turn at his father’s firm call of his name or force himself to lift his chin until Splinter can meet his eyes and find all the miserable failure festering inside him, but he does. 

April is looking around and behind Raph, her eyes jumping to the red pod still standing open and then back again, as if finally noticing that Leo wasn’t tucked in there, too. As if it is only just occurring to her that there is a universe that exists where Raphael leaves Leonardo behind, and it’s this one, and it’s horrible. 

Donnie might as well be carved from stone, but Mikey is starting to get worked up, looking between everyone else with huge red eyes, trying to hear the thing they’re all not saying.

“He went back for the key,” Raphael says again, choking the words out. “I couldn’t—I wasn’t fast enough to—”

He clenches his fists and it drags his siblings’ attention to the blood on them. April covers her mouth and Mikey takes in a breath so sharp it must cut and Donnie starts to flap his hands. Splinter closes his eyes, looking like he’s aged about a hundred years in the last few minutes. 

“What? That’s not possible,” Casey interjects as if he can’t help it. The young soldier glances around the room as if Leo is going to pop up from behind the turnstiles and rib them all for being so gullible. “Master Leonardo is the greatest ninja the world has ever seen, he wouldn’t just—”

“He’s not master anything!” Raph only barely manages not to roar. “He’s a sixteen-year-old kid!”

Casey flinches away from his anger and Raphael brutally wrestles it into submission. It’s not doing any good here. Casey is a kid, too. 

“Raph,” Mikey blurts, too loud and too fast, “is Leo dead?”

The word sucks the air out of the room and Donnie makes a noise like he’s been kicked in the stomach and Raph says, “No. No, Angie, he’s alive.” 

Even though their ninpo is locked away, and with it that subconscious knowledge of each other always lingering comfortably in the back of their minds like a warm afterthought, Raph knows they would know if Leo was gone. They would be able to tell. The world would be fundamentally changed, nothing would ever be the same again. 

He puts his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and adds, “We’re gonna bring him home.” 

The plan isn’t much of one, but their resident schemer is very much not present, and no one questions Raph when he lays it out. Donnie robotically admits that he has the means to track Leo, so the turtles and Future Boy are going to head that way and retrieve him, while Splinter and April babysit the key. 

“Use the shell hogs and just keep moving for now,” Raph says. “They have something we want, we have something they want.”

April nods, grimly understanding. If the only Hail Mary shot they have of getting their brother back is handing over the key and finding an opening to steal it back later, that’s just what they’ll have to do. 

Pops abandoned the Hamato Clan’s teachings in the first place because he didn’t agree with their preachings of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. He handed over the final piece of the dark armor without flinching when his sons’ lives hung in the balance. Even if the rest of their ancestors wouldn’t understand, Raphael does. 

He remembers the jar of oozesquitos he held onto once, trying—and failing—to call Draxum’s bluff. He may be a slow learner, but he only needs to be taught the lesson once. 

Leo risked his life to return this key to his family, so Raph is going to fight for it like an insane person for as long as it makes sense to. But if it comes down to abandoning one to save the other…

He’s his father’s son. He knows which choice he’ll make. 

——

In the Turtle Tank, Mikey and Donnie distract themselves on the trip to Metro Tower station by peppering Casey with questions about the future. The human answers readily, describing Master Donatello’s technological genius—holding out his arms so the entirety of his battered, cyberpunk-style kit is on display—and going on at length about Master Michelangelo’s mystic prowess. 

“I could fly?” Mikey squeaks, drumming his hands on the dash rapidly. “Was it cool?” 

“The coolest,” Casey is quick to agree. “And you opened a portal that sent me through time.”

But the warmth in Casey’s eyes doesn’t last very long, fading into something that looks uncomfortably like grief instead. He tends to look at all of them like that, like he’s in a room full of ghosts. 

He darts a sidelong glance in Raph’s direction and quickly faces forward again, staring out the windshield from Leo’s seat. He’s avoided speaking to him as much as possible, and Raphael can, unfortunately, put two and two together. 

Casey is familiar with everyone else—even April and Splinter—but he dances around Raph as if he’s a stranger. He didn’t know Raph in the future, he knew of him—someone to be respectful of and fall in line for, but certainly not one of the uncles he could brag about to their younger selves. 

When the Tank has gone as far through the tunnels as possible, drawn to a stop at a massive tangle of alien vines, they get out and continue on foot. Raph can feel his little brothers walking as close to him as they can without outright admitting that they’re unnerved, all of their guards completely up, senses dialed to eleven. 

The underground is home to them, always has been, and generally speaking if you’ve seen one subway tunnel you’ve seen them all. But the floodlights from Donnie’s battleshell illuminate a scene that looks like it belongs on another planet. Impossible masses of pink-purple mess dangle everywhere like Halloween store decorations, and the subway cars have been upended off the rails and twisted out of shape. 

Casey’s mask is down, the lenses glowing green as he prowls forward without missing a beat. If he came here from a future where the Krang won, Raph can only imagine what the New York City he grew up in looked like. 

“I hate to be painfully obvious, but since my other half isn’t present, I suppose it falls on my shoulders,” Donatello says after a moment, the sardonic tone of voice at odds with his very low register. “Something feels off.” 

He’s barely got the words out when hundreds of little lights blink at them from the jungle of purple vines—not lights, glowing eyes. The silent tunnel explodes into chaos a second later as they’re ambushed by parasite-controlled people and creatures and even objects. 

Raph and Casey are neatly separated from Donnie and Mikey within a manner of minutes. Raph’s heart is in his throat as he pummels through wave after wave of the infected, and it doesn’t settle until he hears on the comms that his little brothers have taken shelter in the Tank. 

He and Casey are pushed farther and farther away, chased down one of the tunnels by an animated subway car on what looks like spidery crab legs, towards a dead end. When Raphael feels the ground start to give beneath them, he acts on seventeen years of big brother instinct and very little else, seizing Casey around the middle and curling around him completely as they fall. 

It’s a dizzying, topsy-turvy couple of minutes, falling from the subway tracks into a maintenance tunnel underneath, and it takes awhile for his ears to stop ringing. He glances down at the human in his arms and notes with relief that Casey seems to be okay–tucked up small and compact against Raph’s plastron, all limbs accounted for, in such a practiced way that Raph thinks he’s been protected in exactly this manner more than once before. 

Neither of them speak right away, coming down from the rush of adrenaline and waiting for the shifting of crumbled concrete to stop and the dust to clear. Raph’s shell was made of sturdy stuff even before the bioengineering experiment courtesy of Draxum, so when he’s certain they’re relatively safe, he pushes off the ground with his hands and lets the debris roll harmlessly off his back and shoulders. 

“Are you hurt?” Raph asks, sitting back to give Casey room to collect himself. 

“Um, no,” Casey says, tugging his cape down from where it had caught around one of his pauldrons. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but more like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that it’s just the two of them, looking up at Raph and then away again. 

Raph can’t help it. He says, “I died, didn’t I? In the future.”

Casey jerks, as if he was surprised to be asked so plainly. Then his shoulders hunch, and he nods. 

“You all did,” he says haltingly. “Uncle Tello when I was thirteen, and sensei and Uncle Angie just… just before I got sent back.” 

Cold dread slams into Raph’s stomach. He doesn’t want to believe he and his siblings could ever truly be divided, but the proof is sitting in front of him. It’s hard to hear that the end of the world managed to take Raph from his little siblings. Donnie from his twin. That Leo and Mikey were left all alone, with a kid to take care of, and a losing war to fight. 

Casey swallows hard, and curls his hands into fists, visibly forcing himself past the loss that probably sits in his stomach and throat like barbed wire. 

“But you—it happened when I was little. I wasn’t really old enough to remember you.” Each word mincing and careful, he goes on, “Growing up, sensei talked about you all the time. He used to say you were the best—best brother, best leader. And he was so afraid when Master Splinter put him in charge, because he had no idea how to be as good as you. He didn’t want things to change, he was happy being your right-hand man. Sensei made it sound like he was really childish about the whole thing. He said he must have been a real disappointment.”

Raphael absorbs the words like a blow. 

Leo, his little brother, his little star, outshining everyone and pulling the world into his orbit, earnestly giving them the light and warmth they needed to live and grow and flourish, a disappointment?

Raph has been angry with him more times than he can count. Hurt by him, even, because that’s what people tend to do when they don’t understand each other. Frustrated and antagonized and fed-up, sure. But disappointed?

He has a shining, crystalized memory of being a child, no more than eight years old, crying over a picture book because the monster in the book looked like him. It was big and hulking, with dangerous-looking spikes and an alligator tail. Raph hadn’t realized Leo had found him until tiny hands took the book away and a serious little face, not yet grown into its stripes, assessed the situation. 

Even back then, Leo was too clever for his own good. He tossed the book on the floor and said, “They got it wrong. That author must not have ever seen any real monsters if they can mess up that bad. Who let them write a book?”

Raph was hardly able to see through his tears, making a distressed rumble in his chest, but his arms opened automatically. Mikey was in a phase where he had decided he was too big to be carried and Donnie had a hot-and-cold relationship with touch that his siblings all knew to maneuver carefully, but Leo absorbed any and all affection like a hungry little plant soaking up sunlight. He climbed right into Raph’s hug and his arms looped around Raph’s neck and hung on fiercely. 

“My Raphie is a better hero than all those knights and princes and wizards anyway,” Leo had said with conviction so huge it was better suited to someone five times his size. “I have the real deal. I should be the one writing books!”

From then on, Leo vetted any and all shared reading material that made it down to the lair before allowing them to be distributed with a very grown-up gravitas. Some things went straight to Donnie or Mikey’s rooms, or back into the garbage if Leo was feeling vicious about it that day, and no one ever said a word about it. 

About three months ago, April had brought them a bundle of the subscriptions they got mailed to her apartment, and Leo picked up a comic that came for Raph and started to flip through it like they were seven and eight years old again. He caught himself too late and looked embarrassed, sliding it across the counter and quickly making his escape, but Raph felt warm all the way down to his bones. That was proof his Leo was still in there, that he still cared, despite doing his best, for some reason, to convince everyone he didn’t. 

His Leo, who always cared. Who cared too much. 

Casey gives Raph another one of those searching, sideways glances, there and gone again. 

“Sensei said he let you down once and he never wanted to do that again. He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud. Is—is this what he was talking about?”

Raph looks at the boy in front of him, Leo’s kid from a future that doesn’t exist yet, wearing tech his Uncle Tello must have meticulously built to outlast everything else, Uncle Angie’s smiley faces etched into the knee guards in a pop of silliness that somehow still existed in the apocalypse, his sensei’s red stripes painted proudly front and center on his mask. He carries his family with him with every step he takes.

It’s no wonder Casey is so cagey around him. If he was raised even in part by Leo, then he was probably raised on stories of Raph that only painted the good and the funny parts of the bad, because that’s how Leo loves. And it left Casey to reconcile how everyone’s hero Raphael could have ever thought poorly of Casey’s hero Leonardo. 

“Sounds like that sensei of yours had no clue what he was talking about half the time,” Raph say gruffly. “Raph may wanna pick up Leo and rattle him like a snowglobe about a hundred times a day but that’s just the Leo Effect. Ask anybody.” 

Casey blinks up at him, one corner of his mouth giving into a reluctant smile. “Commander O’Neil said that before,” he admits. 

“Now her you can listen to any time of day or night, because she’s never wrong,” Raph says, pushing himself upright and offering Casey a hand up, too. “Leo could never do anything to make me love him less. It kind of seems impossible after a lifetime together, but I actually only keep finding reasons to love him more.”

Sliding his much smaller hand into Raph’s huge one, Casey lets himself be tugged to his feet. He’s gazing up at Raph with wide eyes, tugging on the wrist of one glove absently. 

“Leo is as silly as they come,” Raph says. “He needs practical people like you and me in his life to set him straight.”

All at once, Casey’s face brightens, glowing from the inside out. His spine straightens, shoulders going back. It’s every inch Leo’s expression when he receives honest praise from his family in any direction. And Raph realizes abruptly that at least part of the reason Casey has been so nervous around him is because he doesn’t want to disappoint his father’s hero, either. 

——

They find a maintenance shaft and climb the rest of the way out of the tunnels, regrouping with the whole clan in the Metro Tower station. Donnie brings Leo’s location up on a screen and they all huddle around him—falling silent after a moment as they take in what the tracker is telling them. 

“He’s right—right on top of us,” Donnie says haltingly. “He should be—”

April seizes his arm and he cuts himself off mid-word. With a sense of dread, Raph follows her wide eyes across the room. 

Leo is standing there, watching them. He’s been standing there the whole time. Unmoving, completely silent, and covered in the same squishy, fleshy pink parasitic slime that every other infected they’ve encountered up until now has been manipulated by. There’s a mass of it concealing the lower half of his face like one of the respirators Mikey wears for his spray paint projects, baring dozens of large square teeth in a sneer. 

Leo’s eyes are pink, the pupils slitted. If Raph couldn’t see him breathing, he wouldn’t know for sure if he was even alive. 

“Leo?” Mikey calls out in a warbling voice, hands trembling. “Can you hear us?” 

It doesn’t get a reaction. 

Raph takes one slow, careful step towards him.

That gets a reaction. 

Leo explodes into motion so quickly it doesn’t make sense, going from zero to a hundred in seconds. He slams into Raphael with the force of a freight train, sparks flying from where his blades meet the sai Raph only barely manages to throw up in time. 

Their siblings scatter, Donnie yanking Mikey firmly behind him, April putting out an arm to keep Casey back, too. Splinter dives in to help his eldest, the two of them fighting to subdue but not to injure, hyper-aware of the cracks in Leo’s plastron and the deep bruising on his arms and neck. The last thing Leo’s father and big brother want to do is hurt him any more. 

Leo doesn’t give them an inch of the same consideration, as cold and methodical as a knife. His swords are fully in action, a very present danger to the rest of them, singing and sweeping with fatal precision. 

They’re only fighting for minutes, even though it feels like hours, when Raphael feels it. An insistent tugging on the front of his mind. He and Leo are locked together, swords caught for a moment in the guards of Raph’s sai, and Raph spares a daring second to look into his possessed brother’s pink eyes. 

They glow white instantly, a successful connection. Leo’s mind pours into Raph’s like a flood. 

Take them take them TAKE THEM TAKE THEM TAKE THEM 

As if moving on autopilot, Raph’s hands fly to Leo’s wrists and wrench—not hard enough to sprain, but hard enough that the slider’s grip flies open and the katana clatter to the ground. Leo rips himself free and darts back to give himself room for the next attack. He makes no move to recover the swords and Raph scoops them up a second later, heart pounding. 

It was so quick, so clean, that no one watching from the outside would be able to guess what had just happened. Leo surrendered his weapons to his family in the only way he possibly could, begging with his whole body to be disarmed before he hurt anyone, so desperate for Raph to hear him that he triggered a mind meld for the first time in two years.  

The room comes alive, infected creatures spilling inside and surrounding them all, punching up through the floor from the tunnels they had just escaped from. A subway car covered in pink slime rears back and roars like a beast. Leo moves through the crowd of Hamato like water. The only one he touches is April, a brush of their shoulders together.

She makes a distressed noise in her throat, hand flying to her bag where the key is. Where it was.  

Leo has it in his hand, facing them with unseeing eyes. The grotesque, fleshy mask covering his mouth twists into a stranger’s ugly smile. 

Raph thinks, No wait. It’s not supposed to happen like this. 

They’re not supposed to lose. 

April uses her bat to knock the rest of the deforestation chemicals toward the Krang, causing an explosion that stalls the hoard of infected just long enough to create an escape route. Donnie scoops Mikey’s shell into his arms and Splinter has to tuck a hand around both Casey and Raphael’s elbows and yank to get them moving. Casey doesn’t make it easy.

He must know a losing fight when he sees one. He must be familiar with this scene from the world he came here from. But he struggles anyway, eyes locked without blinking on the shape of a Leo they’re leaving behind. 

Raph wants to struggle, too. He wants to stay behind and fight until he can’t lift his arms or stay on his feet. He wants his lost little brother to know someone’s fighting for him, that someone will keep fighting for him for as long as it takes. 

But responsibility perches heavy on his shoulders. More than one person is depending on him. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done to let himself be pulled one step away, then another. It hurts more than every single other thing he’s survived. 

“Raph’s coming back for you,” he calls out, voice thick, swords weighing a hundred pounds each in his hands. “Hear me, Leo? Raph’s coming back.”

Leo doesn’t give any impression that he heard. He turns at some silent command and walks away, talking the key with him. The Krang got what they came for. 

——

Kneeling on a rooftop, watching the Technodrome come through a hole in the sky and rain destruction down on their city, Raph finds himself thinking I wish Leo was here. 

It’s a stupid thought to have, because Leo being there would solve a very large part of the whole problem. But specifically, Raph finds himself wishing he had his clever, charming brother at his side, who always knew what to say. Who always had an idea. Who understood exactly how to reach out to people and lift their spirits, rekindle their hope. Leo isn’t the strongest of his brothers, or the fastest without his ninpo, or the smartest next to Donatello, but that doesn’t mean he can’t outshine the rest of them in his own way. 

He’s always been the one they followed, really. It just so happened he was always going the same way Raph was. 

“He was happy being your right-hand man,” Casey said. 

How could have Raph misunderstood him so completely? How could he have just left him behind, twice now? What if it becomes a pattern? What if Leo thinks this is all he can expect from them? 

Raph’s family is arguing behind him, unwilling to accept their failure but unable to see any path ahead to victory. It certainly looks hopeless. New York City is burning, people are screaming, aliens and infected are filling the streets by the dozens. 

A familiar hand lands on his arm. Raph feels like he’s wading chest-deep through mud, but he manages to turn his head and look down into Mikey’s big red eyes. 

“What did Leo say earlier?” Mikey asks in a small voice. “I sort of felt it when you connected but I couldn’t hear either of you.”

“It was like being aware of people talking in another room,” Donnie adds, leaning into Raph from the opposite side. “You can just make out the cadence of their conversation but no words come through clearly.”

Raph looks down at his hands, the katana he’s still holding. He rubs his thumb over the guard on one, remembering Leo’s glowing pride the first time he manifested them. He felt so buoyed by Leo’s smile in that moment that he could have fought the Shredder a hundred times over and won. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss having you on my team. 

“He wanted me to take these,” Raph says. “He was really scared of what he might do with them.”

Donnie’s golden eyes are very sharp, staring without blinking at the only proof of his twin with them here on the outskirts of the apocalypse. Behind the turtles, Splinter and April are still going back and forth with each other, but Casey’s voice has tapered into silence. 

“What else did he tell you?” Donnie asks abruptly. 

“Nothing,” Raph replies, numb.

“C’mon, Raphie,” Mikey says, mustering a sweet smile for him, even though smiling is probably the last thing in the world he feels like doing. “ Our Leo? Keeping it brief? I’ll bet he had a hundred things he was trying to say.”

“Let us in,” Donnie says, pressing his head a little harder into Raph’s arm. Dogged and determined, fully ready to dig in with his teeth and not let up until he gets his way. “Let us see.”

Raphael is exhausted, and hurting, and missing the absent piece of their whole so keenly that he could lay down right here and cry for days. But the one thing he’s never been able to do is deny his little brothers anything they care enough about to ask for this earnestly. 

“Okay,” he says and sets Leo’s swords in front of him carefully. With his hands open, Donnie and Mikey both seize one in both of their own, and Raph tries to center himself. 

The first time Raph and Leo did this, it was well before they had fully realized their ninpo. He doesn’t need the mystic powers they’ve come to rely so much on to recognize the brilliant purple lightning and laughing orange bonfire on the fringes of his mind and let them both in. 

The lightning and the bonfire both skirt familiarly over the steadfast red mountain that makes up their eldest brother, at home together. They all feel the painful absence of a mischievous blue wind so strongly that it takes their collective breath away. 

The mountain guides them to the things the wind had given him. Above everything else, fear—of what’s happened and what hasn’t happened yet, fear of the parasite wriggling inside him, fear of his own two hands, fear of failing his family even more than he already has—

Stop, the bonfire says, burning warm and bright. Focus. 

The lightning strikes forward, knowing the wind better than the rest of them from a lifetime of sharing the same sky. It follows the wind’s twists and turns unerringly, illuminating the way in thunderclaps until it’s possible to break past the dark storm of fear entirely.

Behind it there are a hundred other things. Stubbornness and bitterness, a familiar grit that comes from being on the losing side and refusing to give up anyway. Anxiety that his efforts won’t be enough. Love, as deep and rich and unknowable as an ocean. Regret. Loneliness. Hope. 

Take them, the wind had said in the fleeting seconds it had to say anything at all, shoving as many secrets forward as it could. Take this and this and this and this. 

Leon, you devious little creature, the lightning says, with scorching pride and mean-spirited glee. 

It goes both ways, the bonfire cackles. The Krang can see into Lee’s head, but Lee can see into the Krang’s head, too!

This is it, the mountain realizes. This is how we win.  

——

Galvanized, the Hamatos split up one more time. Casey, April and Splinter to get the key back and keep the Krang occupied, and Raph, Mikey and Donnie to save Leo. 

Once Raph and his brothers are inside the Technodrome, they all understand exactly where to go. Everything the Krang knows about how to operate the technodrome, Leo knows, through that unwanted window between their minds. And everything Leo knows, he shunted as hard and fast as he could into Raph’s brain, hidden in a tangle of emotion so thick that it went entirely undetected by the parasite riding along. And since Raph shared the knowledge with the other two, Donatello could probably pilot this ship blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.   

Mikey is swinging one of his ‘chucks restlessly, ready for whatever fight comes his way first. He’s already a force to be reckoned with on a good day. He’s a walking natural disaster on a bad one, up there with hurricanes and tornadoes. 

And this is definitely a bad one. It’s the worst day they’ve ever had. 

“Dee’s got the ship and I’ve got Dee,” Mikey says firmly, sounding much older than he did this time yesterday. “You get Leo.”

Raphael moves with ninja stealth and speed, picking his way through the halls. It smells awful, like raw meat left out in the sun, and in the gloom it almost seems as though the walls and floors are squirming. 

From what Leo gave him, Raph knows better than to hope he and his siblings can go undetected for very long. The ship is almost a living organism itself, and can probably feel each step of progress Raph is making toward the bridge. 

It doesn’t slow him down. Every second Leo spends here is a second too long already. 

The maze-like halls open up into a cavernous dome, where a catwalk stretches toward a huge bulbous window. Outside, Raph can see a panoramic view of Manhattan engulfed in fire. It looks like a warzone. The air leaves his lungs in a rush. 

It’s Raph’s city, the place that raised him, and for the first time in his life it’s hard to look at. 

His hindbrain pings to awareness a split-second before he hears the movement of metal against metal, and Raph spins around to look up at General Krang. 

He’s seated in a throne on a dias, a smug, toothy smile on his face. Leo is standing like a statue at his feet, this tiny slip of green and pink and muddied blue. His discolored eyes gaze listlessly forward into nothing. 

Little Leo, who always wanted to be carried. Little Leo, who hunted down each and every opportunity to make his brothers laugh. Little Leo, who wanted so badly to be even just half as important to them as they were to him. Little Leo, who Raph wouldn’t know how to begin to live without. 

“You again,” the Krang says. “Nothing smart to say? This one wouldn’t shut up until I improved him. And here I thought it was just an unfortunate hallmark of your species.”

Raphael sees red at the way the wicked metallic fingertips of the Krang’s armor cage Leo’s head and jostle it carelessly, like he’s nothing but a cheap toy. Raph bares his teeth, a rumble in his chest, but doesn’t dare to say a single hateful word while Leo’s life is literally held in the Krang’s hand. 

“You probably would have made a much more impressive puppet, with all that brute strength,” the Krang goes on. “Oh well. All in due time.”

The alien must give a nonverbal order, because he retracts his hand and Leo springs forward. 

He doesn’t have his swords anymore, since they’re strapped to Raph’s shell for the time being, but the pink slime has trailed down his arms and tapered into two sharp points that he wields like knives instead. 

They meet in a ringing clash, Raph catching the pink knives with his sai. 

“I know you’re in there,” Raph says. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. It’s okay, Leo. I’m gonna make it okay.” 

The way Leo fights is vicious. He’s fast and he knows where to hit. There’s no joy in his body, no cocky gleam in his eye. Raph can’t help bu remember the way his mind felt when they connected so briefly earlier—the surround-sound of wailing panic and self-hatred, confined behind a stranger’s cold expression. 

Bearing down on his little brother, forcing him to his knees, Raph chokes out, “I’m not leavin’ you behind this time. I’m not goin’ anywhere without you ever again.”

“Empty promises seem to run in your family,” the Krang sneers. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Raph says through gritted teeth. “Don’t listen to him. Just listen to me.”

“Don’t I? Let’s ask the others, shall we?”

Black vines shoot up from the organic mass that makes up the floor of the bridge. Donnie and Mikey are suspended inside them, fighting like animals—Mikey in particular is using language that there is no way Splinter knows he knows. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice vermin slinking around in my ship?” the General asks. “Is this really the best the three of you can do?”

Leo is scratching and clawing at Raph’s hands, trying to break free of him at any cost. Raph is much bigger and much stronger than he is, and it hurts to hold him down like this, but he knows it would be so much worse to let him go. 

“This whole time, we just weren’t listening to each other,” Raph says, lowering his voice. Everyone else can probably still hear, but he wants Leo to know Raph is talking to him. “Somehow, I convinced myself you didn’t care, when I know better. You care so much it makes the inside of your head a nightmare to live in. The only thing you think about is being good enough for us.”

Leo finally manages to twist free, Raph releasing his arms at the last second when it becomes clear the parasite doesn’t care if its host’s elbow or shoulder gets dislocated. Leo rolls away and comes up on one knee, hand braced beneath him, the other white-knuckled around a knife. 

He can hear the Krang becoming agitated, because Mikey and Donnie refuse to be still. The vibes holding them snap and give one after another, faster than they can be replaced. There’s something stirring inside of Raph, too, a fire in his chest that wants to roar to life. 

Leo strikes again. Despite everything, even with all the horrors they’re surrounded by, Raphael wants to smile. 

When they first started training together, and Leo perfected a kata for the first time, the first of the four of them to do it, Raph lifted him up onto his shoulders in victory and let him crow about it for the better part of an hour, flushed with joy and pride. Since then, Leo has never once landed it wrong. 

An outsider wouldn’t clock that he placed his hand nearly four inches too far to the left, but Raphael knows those four inches made a fatal difference between a bad puncture wound and a severed artery. 

Leo has no true autonomy left but there’s a sliver of him left awake behind the wheel. He’s still fighting tooth and nail in there. 

There isn’t any force in the entire goddamn universe prepared for how tricky and stubborn Raph’s little brothers can be. 

“I’m listening now, Leo,” Raph says, alight with how much he loves him. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You’ll never, ever be alone.”

Leo strains forward, dropping the knife and grabbing Raph’s arm instead with shaking hands. Between one blink and the next, his eyes go from pink to shining gold. 

Raph seizes him, holding his face in the cradle of both hands, his heart soaring around in his chest like a bird. 

“Yes! That’s it! Come on back, big guy, Raphie’s got you!”

With a slam, Leo goes to his knees, scrabbling desperately at the fleshy mass on his face. His fingers dig into the slime, but he can’t get a solid enough grasp to tear himself free. His chest is heaving, whole body shaking. He’s fighting so hard but it’s not quite enough. 

And Raph’s ninpo reacts to a sibling in distress the way it did when Raph used it for the first time, breaking past the Krang’s seal like it’s nothing. It surges forward in the shape of a river, finding the familiar place inside of Leo where his connection to their ancestors lives, and making a temporary home there. Raph’s armor limns his brother in rosy red, swelling from underneath his skin in a powerful flood and pushing the parasite out. It loses every inch it had to cling to while Leo continues to pull. 

Finally the worm is ripped completely away, shrieking as it goes, and Leo gasps. He drops the squirming creature and scuttles away from it, gulping in unobstructed air. The corner of his mouth is torn deep and bleeding sluggishly, and his face looks pale and hollow. 

But his eyes are the color they’re supposed to be, and they’re looking right at Raph and seeing him, a connection as meaningful and important as any mind meld.

Because he’s Leo, the first thing he says is, in a croaky, exhausted voice, “Do you have a sword I can borrow?”

Raph barks out a laugh, tears in his eyes. Earlier today he had reached a point where he thought he’d never smile again.

In this moment, he feels like he could hold up the whole sky and grin while he’s doing it. 

Purple and orange spark madly all around them, a lightning storm and a forest fire ready to rain merry hell upon any unfortunate soul in their path, just enough to keep the General busy while Leo finds his footing. 

Raph wants to scoop them all into his arms and carry them someplace safe from all of this, but he knows he can’t. That place doesn’t exist yet. They have to fight for it. 

Leo breathes in deep and lets it go, and takes the swords that Raph passes him in hands that don’t shake, and reaches out for his brothers’ light with a light of his own. 

A gale rushes down from the mountain, leading the charge.

“Hey, ugly,” Leo calls out hoarsely, pointing a blade at the Krang. “I’ve been dying to tell you this all day. The decor in here fucking sucks.”

“Oh my god,” Raph says, half despair, half delight. 

Landing beside him, twirling a glowing bo, Donnie stands shoulder to shoulder with his twin and says, “I would cite you ‘time and place’, Nardo, but honestly you have a point.”

“No because it’s so distracting,” Mikey pipes up, dropping weightlessly on Raph’s carapace, narrowed eyes glinting in the dim light like a smug cat’s. “Presentation matters! Zero out of ten, would not be held hostage here again.”

“At least it matches the Six Flags Fright Fest he's got going on upstairs.” Leo indicates his own temple with the hilt of one sword. “There’s something to be said for consistency, am I right?”

It’s as much of a hint as it needs to be. The Krang isn’t stupid, which is a big part of the reason why he’s been such a difficult opponent. He understands within the space of a few seconds what Leonardo is saying—what it means for him to have any idea what the Krang’s headspace looks like. This whole time, there has been a subtle, calculative undermining at play right under his nose. 

He clenches those claws into fists that have enough power to bring down skyscrapers. 

“You really don’t know,” the Krang says ominously, “when to shut your mouth.”

“Says you and everybody else I know,” Leo replies, unflinching and fearless. “Get some new material.”

Raphael gets it now. Maybe he always has. He understands what Splinter was thinking when he looked at Leo, still growing up but ready at sixteen for the beginning of something greater, and decided he should be the one to lead. 

His brothers would follow him anywhere. Raph would walk straight into hell without looking back if that’s where Leo decided to go. 

——

It’s an instant relief to have those singing silver blades back on their side. Leo’s portals open and close with dizzying speed, moving his brothers like chess pieces around a board, somehow keeping track of it all. For a moment, it’s easy to think they might win. 

And then the Krang blows them all away with the flick of his finger. 

Raph thought his world had ended when he was too late to save his brother in the warehouse. Then he realized the world was actually ending in slow stages all around him when he had to leave his brother behind again at the mercy of a monster. 

It turns out the end of the world happens here. On the quiet, abandoned expanse of Staten Island, listening to his little brother’s wrecked voice over the comms say, “Casey, get ready to close the door.”

“I’m ready, sensei!” Casey reports, prompt and reliable. “Tell me when you’re home free!”

There is a split-second of hesitation from Leo—the barest pause, practically nothing—that sends Raph’s heart straight into his throat. Donatello jerks all the way upright from where he was nursing what’s almost definitely a broken wrist, and Mikey goes dangerously still. They heard it, too. 

“Yeah,” Leo says, just barely too late to be believable to the siblings who know him inside and out, “I’ll tell you.”

“Belay that order, Casey,” April cuts in sharply, every inch the Commander she was in another world. “Leonardo, think twice before you lie to me. What’s your play?”

There’s another pause, and Raph can imagine in crystal-clear detail the way Leon’s throat works when he thinks he’s in trouble with their sister, the way he’s probably clenching and unclenching his hands while he wars with that stupid self-inflicted burden of never making himself vulnerable to anyone for anything. 

The little brother need to be liked wins out. Leo admits, “I can’t think of how else to make him stay there.”

The ground falls out from beneath Raph’s feet. 

“No!” Mikey shrieks, fully at his limit of shit he’s willing to deal with. “No no no no!”

“Sensei I can’t just—I won’t just trap you in the Prison Dimension!” Casey says, horrified at what he was almost tricked into. “There has to be another way!”

“We’ve tried everything,” Leo rasps. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him—let him get you. Any of you. I have to stop him while there’s still a chance.”

“It’ll be a real shame if you save the world from the Krang this way, only for me to destroy it myself when I rip the universe apart to drag your sorry self back here,” Donnie bites out. “And I will, Nardo. I swear to every imaginary higher power you can think of, I will.”

“Leonardo,” Splinter says sternly from April’s end, the leaping panic in his tone well-hidden from everyone but his two eldest, “you will not sacrifice yourself for us today even if it means the world ends tomorrow. That is not what our family does. We are taking you home one way or another, Baby Blue.”

If being in trouble with April is bad, being in trouble with Splinter is cataclysmic. Leo is a daddy’s boy through and through. 

He hesitates again, seconds they don’t have to spare inching by, then says, “How?”

Before anyone can answer there’s a ring of metal and a heavy slam, and his line goes silent. Leo is fighting for his life a thousand feet above their heads, but at least he’s fighting. At least he’s willing to wait for help.

He sounded afraid, Raph can’t help but think. He doesn’t want to go, but he will if he has to. 

“I’ll get him down,” Mikey says, planting his feet, ready to move mountains. “I become a badass mystic warrior at some point, right? Might as well be now.”

“Wait, Uncle—Michelangelo,” Casey blurts, self-correcting a beat too late, “you can’t, when you did it last time, you didn’t survive.”

“If future me can open a portal through time and space and send my entire nephew through safe and sound, all by myself,” Mikey says, “then this me can do at least half of that with my brothers here to help.”

“The math is sound,” Donnie says, eyes trained unblinkingly upwards. “We haven’t met a single universal constant that we haven’t been able to turn upside down and inside out just for fun.”

“I’ve got ‘em, Casey,” Raph adds, his heart going out to the kid who stands to lose his whole family all over again if the wind blows the wrong way. “I’m the biggest, big enough to carry everybody if I have to. Nothing bad’s gonna happen while Raph is here.”

“Oh,” the boy says, very soft. “I remember you saying that.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!” Leo shouts suddenly, his comm coming back on with a burst of static and a strange ambient whine that must be what the inside of the portal sounds like. “Now, please, now!”

Mikey lights up, a little self-made sun of burning, shining gold. He grits his teeth and lifts his hands, trembling under the pressure of the cosmic forces he’s wrestling into submission, and Donnie wraps both arms around him from behind, bracing his little brother with his entire body, absorbing as much as he can. The feedback is halved instantly, and when Raph steps in and holds them both, it’s reduced even more. 

With a little huff, Mikey works his shoulders, like this is nothing more complicated than the tricky recipe he once found for an eight layer Doberge cake on one of those unreadable walls-of-text baking blogs. If he can figure out that, he can do anything. 

Lightning and fire and rock-solid, steady earth stretch out their hands, reaching past the open doorway through empty space, searching for the windy little blue thing that doesn’t belong in this darkness. 

The wind reaches back eagerly, desperate to be grabbed up and taken home and held forever. 

Inside the Prison Dimension, bright chains flare into existence—some to tangle around the Krang and immobilize him, still more to wrap around Leo’s chest and haul him back through the door while it’s still open, at a reckless, break-neck speed. 

It would have been dangerous for a squishy human, but Leo lands on the surface of the Technodrome in a roll and manages to find his feet. 

“I don’t have a sword,” Leo blurts, panicked. “I don’t know how to get down.”

Mikey clenches his fists. Ready to open up the portal that killed him in another world, after all, if that’s what it takes to get Leo down here where he belongs. 

Then Donnie says, “You don’t need to have a sword, dumb-dumb. I have one.” 

It materializes in his hand, a purple construct of one of the matching lightsabers he made for his and Leo’s eleventh birthday. They were very quickly confiscated but Leo laughed like a maniac for the three minutes they had them, and Donnie kept the schematics for a rainy day. 

“Will that work?” Mikey asks, too breathless to sound as terrified as he probably is. 

“It’ll work,” Donnie says shortly. “A sword is a sword. Now’s not the right time to be a snob, Leon. Come here.”

Leo makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan and feels for the shared space between them where their ninpo lives, where the mountain and the bonfire and the lightning and the wind all live, and Raphael can feel it when that mischievous blue energy finds a brand new rule to bend and decides sure, that sounds fun.  

Runes etch themselves into the handle of the Genius Built lightsaber. 

Raphael shouts, “Casey, now!”

At the same time the looming portal above their heads sends a shockwave over New York City, popping and sparking along the edges like a downed transformer as it shrinks and shrinks until it closes around the Technodrome, a flash of bright cyan heralds the head-on collision of Leo into Donnie, as he swaps places with the sword construct his twin was holding. 

They go down in haphazard a pile of limbs, groaning where they lay on the concrete, and then groaning again when a hundred pounds of little brother gleefully joins the pile with an enthusiastic flop. 

The explosion above them is an afterthought. April and Splinter and Casey are all talking over each other on the comms, frantic for confirmation that they all came out of this alive. That they haven’t lost anything they won’t survive losing. 

“We’re all here!” Mikey says, crowing it to the wide-open, smoke-filled sky. “We won!”

Raph should probably elaborate for Pops and April and Casey—let them know where they are, that everyone’s really okay, the little miracles Mikey and Donnie just pulled off like it was nothing, Leo trembling like a leaf in the wind but tucked securely into his twin’s side and absorbing the warmth of another living person like it was something he’d always taken for granted before— 

But there’s something else he needs to do first. 

“Noooooooo,” three little turtles protest as their biggest brother rounds out the turtle pile, flattening them to the ground. 

“Tough luck, bozos,” Raph rumbles. “I ain’t lettin’ a single one of you out of my sight ever again.”

Mikey giggles, half-hysterical, a contagious, familiar sound. Donnie shuts his eyes to hear it better. Leo hides his cold face in Raph’s neck and doesn’t say anything else at all. Raph holds them all tight, and imagines a universe where he’s strong enough to never lose them.

Maybe it’s this one. 

——

Casey, who is both medically trained by Leonardo’s future self and entirely immune to the slider’s particular brand of treatment-avoidant bullshit, turns out to be a godsend. Leo uses every trick in the book and still winds up in a bed in the infirmary. 

For someone who craves attention as much as he does, it would make more sense for him to milk a hospital stay for all he’s worth. But it’s always been exactly the opposite, Leo escaping at the first possible opportunity and hiding out somewhere until negotiations are made. 

After all these years, Raph finally has him figured out. 

Leo’s face is still puffy and red where it’s healing, but it’s inevitably going to scar—through the right side of his mouth and down his chin, where the parasite clung the hardest. And for the three days that they’ve been home, Leo ducks his head when anyone looks at him, talking to his hands or his knees instead of to their faces. 

Don’t look at me, Leonardo is screaming with his whole body. Raph doesn’t need a mind meld to hear that, loud and clear. 

Too bad, he thinks, not unkindly. His heart aches as he sits on the side of Leo’s bed and watches his brother tuck his chin immediately. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he says, lifting Leo’s face again in one large hand, gentle and implacable. Leo resists briefly, but gives it up for a bad job when Raph rumbles at him.  

“Don’t,” Leo manages. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Raph challenges. “I missed you.”

Leo’s eyes are downcast and wet, his mouth screwed stubbornly to one side in a manner that probably hurts, given the stitches. Raphael is a professional at outlasting moody little turtles, and he’ll sit here until the next apocalypse if that’s what it takes. 

Eventually, Raph’s patience pays off. Slowly, gingerly, Leo opens his hands. He lets Raph take them, and squeeze strength and warmth into them, and clings for as long as it takes to cobble together the remarkable courage he needs to look his big brother in the eye. 

“I lost the key,” Leo starts damningly.

“You got it back,” Raph says, ignoring the nauseous lurch in his stomach at the memory of the warehouse, Leo pinned to the floor, the escape pod activating and leaving him there alone. His nightmares always start right there these days. “We’re the ones who couldn’t keep hold of it.”

“I almost hurt you,” Leo says, a note of desperation entering his tone. “I almost—”

“You didn’t,” Raph counters firmly. “You have no idea how much more amazing it is that you didn’t.”

“I was so mean.” Tears drip down his face as he finally loses the battle not to cry. “When the Krang was in my head he saw everything and he said—said you must hate me, and he did all of you a favor getting rid of me, and I thought—I thought that makes sense, because I was so mean, and I’m nothing but trouble, and I don’t contribute, and even when dad gave me the chance to step up and be something I still wanted—I just wanted—”

Little Leo, who invented games of make-believe so Raph could feel like a hero. Little Leo, forever finding ways to make recalcitrant Donnie play, pleased as punch every time he pulled it off. Little Leo, who could listen to Mikey ramble for hours without getting bored or short-tempered, his bedroom walls an ever-evolving art collage of his little brother’s best work. Little Leo, who just wanted to be held and held and held. 

Raph lifts Leo into his arms, as easy now as it was when he was three and nine and twelve, and holds him. Leo shakes with how hard he’s crying, even though he’s not really making any noise. His hands scramble to grab onto Raph’s shell and he lets Raph squeeze him into something young and small and hurt and loved. 

He disagrees with murder as a general concept, but he thinks he could make an exception for the monster who forced his way into Leo’s brain and turned it into an echo chamber of all the worst things he had ever thought about himself. 

An eternity alone in the dark with nothing but his failures is as close to justice as they’ll get. It’s kind of poetic, right? is all Mikey will have to say about it when it comes up a week from now, a mean-spirited little smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Leo chokes out. “I’m sorry, Raphie. I’ll do—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be better, I swear. I’ll never let you down again.”

“He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud,” Casey said.

“Blue, this thing you think you gotta make up for—this price you think you gotta pay for existing—it doesn’t exist,” Raph tells him in a tone that brooks no room for argument, barely managing not to grind his teeth together. If anyone else had said anything even half as bad as Leo had said about Leo, he would’ve punched them straight through a wall by now. “You mean more to me than what you contribute to the team. Even if you brought nothing to the table, which is not true, you’d still be stuck with us forever. Non-negotiable. You could be a hateful little brat every single day of your life and I would still take a bullet for you, no questions asked. Are you hearing me?”

“Hearing you,” Leo mutters, knowing better to disagree with that tone.

“All I want from you is you. All I need is my Leo. Whether he’s feeling goofy or annoying or pissed off or scared—I want every shape of him. Every version. Don’t you dare,” Raph adds, punctuating this by a little rattle of the Leo he’s holding, “make me go a single day without him ever again.”

Leo is fully hidden beneath his chin, so there’s no way for Raph to tell what his face is doing. But he hears the little punched-out breath, and feels it a second later when Leo’s white-knuckled grip on his shell loosens, just a bit. No longer convinced he’ll be ripped away for some imaginary offense.

It’ll take more than one conversation to fix everything, but they’ve got more than one. They’ve got a million. They have the whole rest of their lives on each other’s team. 

“I missed you, too,” Leo whispers, like they’re four and five years old again, huddled under the blankets after bedtime and telling each other secrets. 

Back then, monsters were easy to conquer. Nothing scary or sad dared to follow little brothers to Raphie’s room. A warm nest and a turtle pile was the answer to every heartache. 

Some things stay exactly the same, Raph thinks fondly, amused by the way Leo’s already drifting off. He settles on his plastron, Leo tucked securely under one arm. He gives it about thirty seconds before Mikey and Donnie stop listening outside the door and sneak inside to complete the pile, and starts the count in his head. 

He makes it to twenty-seven before the mattress gives tellingly beneath two pairs of hands, and he smiles. 

[otaku0411]

A GLASS OF WHISKEY PLEASE?

SUMMARY: This takes place in LA, before the movie. You’re a bartender and you two meet and it might become a regular occurrence. *MIXED POV* *18+*

_______________________________________________

It’s another Friday night shift for you. Because of the nice sunny weather and the sports games that’s going on tonight, you have a good chance at making some money. You work a a fine casual dining restaurant as a bartender. The job is enough to be comfortable but not long term. When arriving at work, you greet your coworkers and begin prepping the bar.

Finishing up, you turn the TV to the MLB channel and see that the Dodgers and Yankees were playing. You let it play in the background, not knowing what is to come and soon you started getting customers.

It’s now 9:45 p.m. and the bar is PACKED! Middle aged men watching the game while drinking their beers, and guests conversing among each other. Despite all of the noise and some inconsiderate people, you were holding up well and just trying to make it through the night.

Eventually, you get everyone situated and things started to slow down. You got one more hour til closing and you’re relieved that it’s almost over.

I’m washing the glasses in the sink when I see a man sitting at the bar. I dry my hands off and go to take his order.

“How you doing sir, what can I get you started off with?” I asked him. He look at me and gave me a small smile. I was never one to be nervous around men, especially since being a bartender I dealt with the worse in men, but his aura and demeanor did something to me that even I couldn’t put into words.

“I’m fine, can you start me off with a whiskey meat and some wings please?” He answered, still holding that grin. I nodded “ID please?” He hands me his ID KENJI SATO, never heard of him. I handed his ID back and fixed his drink. Once I gave it to him, I commented, “I wouldn’t expect you to be a whiskey kind of guy.”

His thick eyebrows rise up with my comment. “What do you mean by that.” “I mean you’re a young and seemingly fit person. I would’ve just expected like a tequila or a beer kind of guy is all I’m saying.”

He chuckled at my answer. “If I’m being honest, I do prefer my beers. But after the day I’m having, only whiskey could make me feel better.” He sips on his drink.

“Well if you ever wan to talk about my day. I would be more than happy to hear. After all, a bartender is like part therapist.” I joked at the end. For a minute it look like he was considering it, but ultimately he declined. “No I don’t want to get into it. It’s Friday and everyone should be in a good mood. Plus I don’t like making pretty women upset with my problems.” He smirked as I could feel myself getting flustered. I quickly turned away from him before he could see my face.

I continue to tend to other customers but I glance at him whenever I get the opportunity. He seems to be focused on the TVs. I admire him a little more and see how well kept and attractive he is. His black compression shirt is complimenting his physique and he run through his hair every now and again. Of course, it’s Hollywood and there’s beautiful people everywhere but as corny as it sounds he’s different.

I go back to him to check up on how’s he’s doing and offer another drink. “No thank I’m good. I’m ready for my tab please.” I print out his ticket and he asked “How much is it?” “Just $32 dollars. You just got a drink and appetizer.”

He takes out a fifty and a twenty. “Keep the rest. I had a good time. When you work if you don’t mind me asking?” I was a little taken aback from his questions. I never give out my work schedules because of creeps and stories I hear. However there’s a first time for many.

“Well I obviously work Friday night and Saturday night. If you want to see me, you’ll have to come here every night to see for yourself.” I smirked. Most guys would just say fuck you! But his guy, he smirked back and came forward to in my ears “Challenge accepted.” He whispered. “I’ll see you next week then.” He walked off but before he did, he looked back and gave me a final smile.

By the time he left, it was ready to close. As I’m cleaning up my station, my coworker comes up to me and shrieked. “OMG! YOURE SO LUCKY! YOU GOT TO SERVE KENJI SATO!!” I look at her confused not knowing what the heck she’s talking about. “Yeah, what about him?” I asked. She look at me dumbfounded “KENJI SATO! The baseball who plays for the Dodgers.” She pull up her phone and my mouth dropped when I saw who was on her screen.

How tf can I be so dumb. It all makes sense now. His Jacket, the muscle, his attractive face. I get celebrities and influencers often time, but rarely do I get athletes.Especially now that he’s going to be a regular of mine.

“Well this job just got a lot more interesting.”

_______________________________________________

A/N: HEYY YALL! Thank you so much for reading this story! It’s the first fanfics I’ve written in years😭 So if I make any mistakes, please tell me.

But I’ve been fixated on this man for a week now, which is why I’m writing this story. I hope you enjoy this story.

Also this will be a three part story. I am already halfway done with part two so it’ll be released by tomorrow🌸!

‼️‼️UPDATE: PART TWO IS OUT, ITS PINNED ON MY PAGE‼️‼️

[harlowcomehome]

Distance:

Requested by @harlowsbby and inspired by the song Distance by Normani.

You sat leaning against the bar as you swirled what was left of your espresso martini around in its elegant wine glass. Your heavy thoughts echoed in your brain as you tried to drown out your thoughts with alcohol, but Giveon playing in the background wasn’t helping.

You hated crying in general but in public was worse, you felt embarrassed wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to get them to stop.

The bartender Vic was tall, pale, had a long brown ponytail, was covered in tattoos, and admittedly wasn’t your usual type but something about him intrigued you, you had been eyeing him as he talked with other patrons and he knew it.

“I have to say it” Vic smiled as he walked towards you, his cologne filling the air.

“Say what?” You cheekily replied, smiling through your internal monologue.

“You shouldn’t be spending your Saturday night alone and considering you’re dressed like that I don’t think that was the original plan was it?”

You looked down at your tight black mini dress, it hugged your figure in all the right places and you had hoped Jack would be ripping it off tonight before your plans imploded.

“You’re very forward” you giggled, sipping on your glass and trying to avoid his eye contact.

You knew better than to entertain it, knowing you’d never do that to Jack even when he was currently on your shit list. Vic kept his eyes on you even while being pulled to serve the customers around you. His eyes had never left you, it was as if he wanted to ask you something and it started to concern you.

“Last call” the bartender from the other side of the bar tapped the wooden bar island with your credit card to get your attention as you nodded and collected your things. You threw back the last swing of your drink, grabbing your card, clutch, and phone quickly before doing or saying something you’d regret. The distance to your hotel was short, so you opted to walk instead of ubering.

You checked your texts, looking at the bold “read 10:00 PM” text you sent Jack. It had been four hours, but it felt like an eternity. He knew your triggers, you loathed being ignored. It stemmed from your childhood, something you’d come to regret informing him of.

Meanwhile, Jack was in the studio, ignoring the very true string of words you had sent him. He had Urban and Copelan in his ear, telling him hard truths that he didn’t want to hear.

“You might want to go fix that” Urban suggested only with Copelan to silently nod and agree.

You had plans to have dinner on a private rooftop tonight and considering you had made the six-hour flight to Louisville to spend the weekend together, when Jack started to come off flaky you couldn’t help but lose it on him.

Jack: Stuck at the studio. Does 7:30 work?

Jack: 8:00 sorry.

Jack: 8:45-ish?

The last text set off a fire inside of you, Jack had a tendency to fly you out, make you feel special, and then completely bail on your plans. The last time it happened, he swore up and down that he wouldn’t do it again, and that it wasn’t intentional but the cycle was repeating itself.

You knew how to push his buttons, whether you were aware of it or not. You had a tendency to come off harsh, and he was used to having his feelings coddled by 99.9% of the women in his life. So when you fired off a long paragraph telling him how egotistical he was being, he didn’t reply only making the situation much worse.

You walked into the hotel lobby, carrying your cherry mocha-colored heels in your hand as you entered the 21C hotel. You softly smiled at the front desk, as they were the same pair of girls who had greeted you earlier. One of them gave quick thought to warning you who was upstairs but opted to let you find out for yourself.

The elevator made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit as you stumbled into the hallway and to your room. Jack was sitting on your bed, anxiously waiting for your arrival when he heard the door creak open.

“Y/N?” His voice startled you, but you recognized it immediately. You ignored him, grabbing something from your bag making sure he saw you in your dress before going to the bathroom and starting the shower.

He got up from the bed and knocked, before trying to open the locked door. “Baby, I’m sorry. Please let me in.” He waited for your response but when he didn’t hear one he sat down across from the bathroom door and waited for you knowing you both had a lot to say.

When you had finished taking a shower you opened the bathroom door, and Jack stood to his feet immediately. You were wrapped in the hotel robe and he wanted nothing more than to undress you, but he knew it wasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry I bailed tonight” was all he could think to say as he felt the tension heighten with every second that passed.

“I’m disgusted with you” You had taken the time to rehearse in your head what you wanted to say to him but now that he was in front of you, staring at you with those big blue eyes you found it hard to form words.

“Disgusted?” He never fully took the time to understand where you were coming from, and this time would be no different.

“You know that I’ve been going through a lot and that this was supposed to be a weekend about you and I right?” You usually broke down by now, but we’re trying your hardest to keep it together.

“I know that, did I not pay for you to come out here? Was that not something I did?” He tended to get snippy and defensive immediately.

“Let’s not act high and mighty because you had someone on your payroll book me a flight”You pushed past him, looking through your suitcase for something to change into.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m standing here with you” his voice got an octave higher and you knew that was his tell, he was about to explode.

“Don’t fucking yell at me. You don’t get to do that this time” You quickly changed into a set of navy blue satin pajamas and stood in front of him with your arms crossed.

“You’re always mad at me. How the fuck is that fair? I’m standing here, what more do you want? You get a high out of arguing” he threw his hands up and his head back.

“You don’t listen, do you? You just love the sound of your own voice” You were snippy and cold, which was unlike you and his stomach started to turn at the thought of really losing you.

“I’m listening” he avoided your gaze, feeling it burning right through him. He sat on the bed, waiting for you to continue talking as he felt the anxiety build inside him.

“I can’t do this constant back and forth with you anymore. This is getting old. ” You were still standing in front of him as he eyed your figure up and down.

“I don’t want to argue with you” Jack was defeated knowing he had made a mistake, and he just wanted to be in your good graces again.

“Then why do you push me away? You pull me in and tell me you want me, you fly me here and then have me looking like an idiot Jack. If I wouldn’t have went out tonight I would’ve just been laid up in this bed crying over you, and that’s not fair. You know it” You felt the lump in your throat start to form, trying your hardest not to let him see you cry.

“I don’t mean to push you away! I don’t!” He was growing more red in the face, his neck too as you tried to figure out what was going on in his head.

“You do this pattern every time! I’m so tired of it” you were starting to shut down and he could feel you slipping away, he was worried you were growing uninterested.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just-“ he sighed, worried about how you’d take what he wanted to say. “I’m scared, so I make up excuses and I talk myself out of seeing you.”

“You’re scared? Of what exactly?” You scoffed, convinced he was only trying to play the victim.

“That I’ll get attached and that I’ll start to feel like I need you” he was never good at being vulnerable, and it caught you off guard, as you stared at him with a shocked expression. His eyes were filled with tears, he was short of breath and you were convinced he was going to have a panic attack at any second.

“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

You were speechless as he stood up, towering over you. He wrapped his arms around your body as he pulled you into him.

You instinctively kissed him, wrapping your legs around his torso as the two of you fell on top of the bed. Your fingers entangled in his bouncy curls as you fought for air between kisses. You were on top of him, your thighs hugging the side of his body.

You found his vulnerability endearing, drawing you into the familiarity you knew all too well.

“Say it” you demanded , whispering in his ear as you knew he was holding back what he was aching to tell you.

“Hmmm?” He hummed between kisses, his tongue lost against yours.

“Admit it” you sucked on his tongue briefly before you started to leave a trail of wet kisses against his neck.

“Y/N, I think I love you” his confession seemed sincere, the sparkle in his eyes proving to be true, you hoped so, at least to make it through the night.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed for losing to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling her imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[struwberrii]

hi lovely !! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

i saw you also love suga~ and after seeing those oikawa headcannons i would love to know if you would make some sugawara ones (i don’t know if i have to specify but, pre-timeskip:3)!!

koushi needs more loveeeeee 𓂃 ࣪˖

thank youuu!! have a great day!!

suga headcannons ⋆˚🐾˖°

thank you for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

i totally agree w u!! where are all the sugawara fans at!!! but here are some of my cute and silly sugawara headcannons :3

༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

he loves thrifting, his ideal hangout would be grabbing some fast food or boba then thrifting

loves doing those stupid tiktok trends, like he has a million capcut edits of chickens pooping you out lol

he gives me middle child vibes, i feel like he would totally have an older sister (she’s like a year older and they’re besties)

the best guy to go to for advice, like even if you don’t want advice he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel better

you guys HAVE to have a movie night at least once a month

his bag is covered in those cute hot topic pins

he always smells very fresh, like floral

he has the worlds biggest stanley cup and refills it at least 5 times a day

he’s super good at drawing and is always sketching silly cartoon characters on his assignments

he loves baking with you, even if neither of you are good at it, you always end up laughing and covered in flour and batter

he is a god at imessage word games, he shows no mercy

probably also in art club with yachi (they both just talk drama and paint) (also idk if u can be in multiple clubs let’s just pretend guys)

wears/keeps everything you give him, like if you make him a bracelet he’s never taking it off, if you give him a keychain it’ll be on his bag forever

if you ask him for advice on a situation he isn’t afraid to tell you when you’re at fault, he does NOT sugarcoat it

serial candle lighter, his room always has candles lit

always has medicine on him incase anyone around him isn’t feeling well

he’s the best tutor ever, if you’re confused suga is the guy to talk to

he has a polaroid camera and has like a hundred polaroids of his siblings, friends and you

probably has a plant that he takes the best care of

probably really into conspiracy theories, true crime and creepy pastas, he’s always watching scary stuff like that

his pinterest is updated hourly

always sneaks his phone during class and never gets caught

has the comfiest hoodies ever, if you’re ever cold he’ll let you borrow one

always has hand sanitizer on him

always brings extra snacks just incase

probably really into reality tv and loves talking about the drama with people who are also watching

he plays stardew valley

he has the cleanest and most organized bag ever

old people love him

he probably listens to the most random podcast ever like emergency intercom or very really good podcast

takes notes in different colored pens

probably loves romance anime and has the best recommendations

[anamericangirl]

@sugarplum-sapphic oh I see you’ll “entertain this for a second” but you’ll turn off reblogs to make it harder for people to respond to you lol. I guess to make you feel like you did a better job responding than you actually did.

I don’t really care what you think about my blog to be honest. If seeing someone you disagree with on most things is red flag that says more about you than it does about me. But I get it. Pro-aborts like yourself tend to create echo chambers so you never have to have your ideas challenged. So I understand that seeing someone who has different opinions than you would scare you.

But since you’re “entertaining this” I’ll entertain it too. 😊

I’m curious where you got the idea that the right to life just “doesn’t apply” to this simply because the baby is dependent on their mother. I’m not aware of any documents, legal or otherwise, that state that the right to life is only applied to people who aren’t in a dependent state. So since you’re making the claim that there are some people the right to life just doesn’t apply to as if that’s an objective fact when it contradicts every single law and founding document we have you better have a pretty airtight source and reasoning for that preposterous claim. I am very curious on where you got that idea. What law or founding document did you read that made you think babies don’t have the right to life because they need their mother to maintain their life. You know babies are also dependent on others to maintain their life after being born? So I’m assuming you think it’s ok to kill babies after birth as well. Otherwise you would be inconsistent.

Ah yes. The organ donation argument. You use “classic” to describe it. I like to call it the “overused” and “thoroughly debunked” argument that y’all won’t let die even though it demonstrates that you really don’t understand what abortion is. This is why I ask y’all to actually take some time to learn about abortion before continuing to support it.

Let’s go over all the ways your kidney argument is very bad and does not justify abortion at all.

1. First, the situations are not similar. Not at all. Using a situation that does not match abortion in any way shape or form does not justify abortion. You would have to make up a similar situation in order for this to make sense. This just shows you don’t know what you’re talking about.

2. There is a big difference between not saving the life of a dying person and intentionally killing a healthy person who would have continued to live without your interference, k? Until you can understand that very big difference you are not ready for the abortion debate.

3. Organ donation does not require you to actively kill a person. Do you understand that? The only way to make organ donation comparable to abortion is if you were going to argue that it would be ok for you to then stab the person who needs the kidney after deciding not to donate yours.

4. Abortion is not organ donation. Deciding you don’t want your baby does not give you the right to commit a subsequent act of violence. It does not give you the right to actively and intentionally kill a child.

5. You’re not obligated to save the life of a dying person. You are obligated not to murder someone.

So in short, no you can’t be forced to donate a kidney but you still can’t kill babies. Get it now?

Do you understand there is a difference between dying a natural death and being murdered? It’s important that you understand that. You see, the right to life, which does apply to people even if they are in a dependent state, is not the right not to die, but it does mean other people cannot take it upon themselves to end your life.

You very clearly do not even understand bodily autonomy either. It applies to your body only and it does, in fact, have limitations. Making a decision about what happens to your body does not mean you have the right to harm another person’s body. Your bodily autonomy ends where the baby’s body begins. Because that is a different body that you don’t have bodily autonomy for. Bodily autonomy is not the right to kill. It’s very important that you understand that as well.

You mistakenly think that a sick person dying because no one donated a kidney is the same thing as inducing a heart attack in a baby and then ripping their body apart. That is extremely ignorant and I encourage you to educate yourself on this matter. Feel free to ask me any questions you have. I have a lot of resources I can share that will help you understand abortion, human rights and fetal development a lot better.

[theemporium]

❤️ 27 quinn Hughes

(Have a great day love)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

27. “Why don’t we use some of your toys?”

series masterlist

.

Long distance relationships came with their trials and tribulations. 

There were a series of factors you had to take into consideration that you had never given a second thought in past relationships. Beyond your personal schedules, you had to consider the time difference between Michigan and Vancouver. And whilst you were aware three hours wasn’t the worst difference in the world, it had a horrible habit of being a pest. 

Quinn was usually asleep by the time you woke up. You were in classes when he woke up. He was in practice by the time you got home. You were usually fighting the urge to fall asleep after a long day by the time he got out of training and meetings. 

It was annoying.

But one of the worst parts was the physical touch—or, the lack thereof. 

There were days you wanted nothing more than to come home and curl into his arms. There were days you were watching his games and wishing you could be there after the final buzzer, whether it’s to celebrate or sulk together. There were days you just wanted to be able to kiss him instead of wistfully thinking about it when you were on facetime with him. 

And, there were days where you just really wanted to fuck your boyfriend. 

But it wasn’t always possible and whilst the late night phone calls with Quinn moaning and panting and groaning in your ear as he told you everything he wanted to do to you were hot, it didn’t always scratch the itch. Sometimes, it wasn’t enough to get yourself off. 

Quinn knew that. Quinn understood that better than anyone else. So really, there was no other person less likely to judge you from taking it a step further, for buying a few toys to try and spice things up when you were in bed alone.

Yet, it didn’t stop your face from burning in embarrassment when Quinn reached into your bedside drawer, slightly preoccupied with your tongue in his mouth and your hand wrapped around his cock that it took his brain a few seconds to realise wasn’t feeling the foil wrapper of a condom in his hand. 

“Oh baby, you didn’t tell me I had some competition.” 

You let out a groan, your hands covering your face as Quinn pulled the toy out of your drawer. “Kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” he teased, sounding far too amused with the situation. He inspected the toy curiously, pressing a small button on the side and watching it buzz to life. He almost snorted at the way you whined in embarrassment as the noise echoed through your bedroom. “Should I be worried I’m being shown up?” 

“Stop being mean,” you grumbled behind your hands. 

“I thought you liked it when I was mean,” Quinn shot back, turning the toy off and dropping it somewhere on the bed as he reached for your hands to pull them away from your face. “Hey, it’s not embarrassing, you know that?” 

“You weren’t meant to see them,” you murmured, still unable to meet his eyes. 

“Oh, them? There’s more?” Quinn mused, his fingers lightly tracing shapes along your wrist. “Why don’t we use some of your toys?”

Your gaze snapped up, lips parted in shock. “What?” 

“Do they make you feel good?” Quinn asked. 

You nodded, somewhat speechless. 

“Then, good. We have the same goal,” he replied, his lips twitching upwards when you let out a surprised snort of laughter. “Plus,” Quinn continued as he leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to your ear. “I want you to show me exactly how you use them.” 

You gulped a little. “Quinn—”

“C’mon, baby,” he taunted, his voice a little rougher as he lightly nipped the sensitive spot below your ear. “Show me how you make yourself come. Tell me exactly what you think about when you have that toy between your legs, pretending it’s me.”

.

[cupidvisions]

𝔭𝔞𝔠- 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨

what this pac is about: this is about what’s being said about you and who is saying things

—> how to choose? close your eyes, clear your mind, and open your intuition. then think about the numbers, the images, the feeling they gives you. then choose 🤍

dividers by @fairytopea @dollywons @attxnt

1->2

3->4

pile 1

signs this is your pile: 8,10, sagittarius, fire sign, mixed signals

8 of wands, 10 of wands reversed

i’m seeing that people really want you to move on from something and that your taking too long to do it. i’m seeing that people are rushing you, and want you to make a decision soon. i’m also seeing that your stressed about this and that you feel like a burden. possibly, other people are being stressed out since you haven’t made a decision and they can feel like they’re doing all the work or like your doing too much work. in general, people are saying you need to move on from this situation and and you need to do it soon

pile 2

signs this is your pile: 2, scorpio, sagittarius, cancer, intensity

king of wands, 2 of cups

i’m seeing that the person talking behind your back is likely a lover, and possible soulmate ! this person sees you as someone who is mature, and a natural born leader. you may be the pants of the relationship, or just have a more dominant personality. they also say that you’re driven and that your strong enough to overcome problems. i’m seeing that they also talk about marrying, or proposing, as well as their attraction to you. also, if you and this person have been having any problems, i’m seeing that they believe that the two of you will be able to overcome them

pile 3

signs this can be your pile: my heart immediately felt heavy so maybe you feel that way too, complications, 7, 8, taurus , water signs

7 of pentacles, 8 of cups, the hierophant reversed

there’s quite a few mixed energies from this pile so i’m getting 2 vibes. vibe 1 is that the person who has been talking about you is a hard worker, and may have invested a lot of time into you, your relationship, or they spend a lot of time working. you may view them as someone better or higher than you, or if this is a work environment, then they could be a boss, manager, etc. if you don’t have anyone like that in your life then i’m seeing that what’s being said is that your very hard working and people can see that you have a long term goal your trying to accomplish. i’m also seeing that people are saying they may feel left behind by you, or abandoned by you. maybe you’ve been more distant lately, and people are noticing. i’m seeing that you becoming more withdrawn is seen as “dumb” or “unconventional” to others, but i’m feeling like you know what your doing and because they don’t see your vision, they find it pointless.

pile 4

signs this is your pile: 2,5,9, cancer, scorpio, virgo, sagittarius, capricorn, sacrificing, distressing, regret

2 of cups, hermit, 5 of cups, queen of pentacles

i’m seeing that the person talking behind you is someone close to you. possibly a lover or a friend. i’m seeing that what is being said about you is that you need to do more self reflection, introspection, etc. they believe that your lost right now and that you need guidance. i’m seeing that there’s possibly a financial struggle which has sent you spiraling and makes you feel like you’ve failed yourself or someone else some how. people may also be saying that you may be acting somewhat self centered at this moment, but i can see that people can tell that you’re dealing with pessimism and disappointment

[leclercsainzz]

WISTFUL YEARNING PART 2

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

part 1 - part 2

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 683,027 others

yourusername: c’est la vie

see translation: that’s life

tagged: @yourbrother

view 5,846 comments

user: @yourbrother is sooo fine, omgg

user: pretty girl 😍

user: charles liked 😭

leclerc_pascale: la plus jolie fille de tous les temps 😍

see translation: the prettiest girl ever

↳ yourusername: 😘

↳ user: pascale just like me! i’ll never get over charles and yn

arthur_leclerc: toby 🥺

yourmom: mes bébés

see translation: my babies

↳ yourbrother: tu m’aimes plus

see translation: you love me more

yourbrother: pourquoi essaies-tu toujours de prende mon chein?

see translation: why are you always trying to take my dog?

francisca.cgomes: my love 😘

user: the fact that charles liked means so much to me

user: her brother fine asf 😍

↳ user: their genes are perfect!

user: charles really fumbled

↳ user: how? he’s literally married with a kid on the way

↳ user: that’s a win for me .. if anything yn fumbled

user: WISH I LOOKED LIKE YOU 😩

user: charles liked abbakansns

charles_leclerc: @yourbrother 😍

↳ user: tHe cOmmeNT

↳ user: same charles same

↳ user: even after all these years, he’ll always choose yourbrother

user: i know that comment was for yn 😉

↳ user: he just tagged @yourbrother as a distraction

user: youre so gorgeous 😍

user: toby’s sooo cute omg

user: ohh, to be her 😩

pierregasly: mon français préféré 😘 @yourbrother

see translation: my favorite french

↳ yourusername: mon garçon français préféré 😘 @estebanocon

see translation: my favorite french boy

user: LMAO THESE TWO 😂

imessage

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourbrother and 642,910 others

yourusername: ice cream makes everything better(:

view 4,038 comments

leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille, tu as raté notre rendezvous

see translation: my beautiful girl, you missed our date

leclerc_pascale: je vous pardonne

see translation: i forgive you

user: nOt her ditching pascale 😭

user: charles is going through it while she’s on ice cream dates

user: NEW MANS OR WHAT?!???

user: who is that?!!? 👀

user: isn’t that charles and her favorite ice cream shop??

↳ user: oMG THAT IS

user: she’s showing her new boy her fav ice cream shop 😭

user: wait— she’s in monaco?!!?

user: that could be @yourbrother for all we know

user: yn, babe, you ditched THE pascale leclerc?!!?? 🤔

↳ user: anD for what?!??

arthur_leclerc: où etait mon invitation? 🙄

see translation: where was my invitation?

↳ yourusername: je ne sais pas de quoi tu parles

see translation: i don’t know what you’re talking about

user: plot twist— that’s actually charles

user: not her having fun w/o charles 🙄

↳ user: gIrL WHAT?!!?

↳ user: mans found out his whole marriage is a lie and this is her

↳ user: it’s not her fault, tf?!!?

charlotte2304: mon amour 😘

see translation: my love

user: what do you think about charles’ situation???

user: why are people still bringing up charles?!!

↳ user: bro, literally! like let her live her life

↳ user: they can’t move on, frr 😭

user: that ice cream looks sooo good

↳ yourusername: THE BEST, trust me

user: who’s the dude?

lorenzotl: c’est logique pourquoi tu as abandonné

see translation: makes sense why you ditched

↳ joris__trouche: mhm

↳ user: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

↳ user: one word— CHARLES

↳ user: you’re delusional, my friend

user: she’s soooo pretty 😍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 685,840 others

yourusername: monaco, tu seras toujours célèbre <33

see translation: monaco, you’ll always be famous

view 6,013 comments

user: THE FERRARI SHIRT

user: she’s still a ferrari girl!!

user: yn, you’ll ALWAYS be famous <3

user: bodyyy omgg 😍

user: that painting is so beautiful, girl!

↳ yourusername: thanks love

↳ user: I LOVE U QUEEN

user: monaco’s IT girl

user: every time charles likes her post i die inside

isahernaez: beauttt 😍

↳ yourusername: ily my loveee 😘

user: i hope her and charles get back together

user: exwifename could NEVER compare to yn

user: TE AMO, YN ❤️

see translation: i love you, yn

yourbrother: apporte-moi quelque chose

see translation: bring me something

↳ yourusername: 🙄

user: the woman that you are, my goddd 😩

user: my only goal in life is to be like you

user: she still supports ferrari

charles_leclerc: admets juste que je t’ai manqué ;)

see translation: just admit you missed me

↳ yourusername: si je dis oui, alors quoi? 🫣

see translation: if i say yes, then what?

↳ user: UMM?!! PARENTS INTERACTING?? WTF??

↳ user: “then what?” U GET TOGETHER, DUHH

user: bitCh— is he flirting?

user: she knows damn well what she’s doing wearing that shirt

francisca.cgomes: sexyyy

↳ yourusername: girlfriend, that’s youuu

↳ pierregasly: tu devrais retourner en france @yourusername

see translation: you should go back to france

↳ yourusername: reste en colère, putain de merde 😘

see translation: stay mad, stupid fuck

user: her friendship with pierre is to much 😭

↳ user: i cant tell if they actually like each other or not most times

↳ yourusername: trust me, i love that ugly french

↳ pierregasly: love you too stupid bitch ❤️

↳ user: tHat’s progress, i guess 😂

user: MOTHER 😍

imessage

yourusername

liked charlotte2304, isahernaez and 689,847 others

yourusername: ☀️

view 5,836 comments

user: are we gonna talk about arthur’s story yesterday?? 👀

user: i wanna have this life so bad

user: bodyyy-odyy 😍

user: you CANNOT tell me that isn’t charles

↳ user: it’s def him!

yourmom: a-t-il cuisiné ce délicieux repas?

see translation: did he cook that delicious meal?

↳ yourusername: oui! je peux confirmar que c’était délicieux

see translation: yes! i can confirm it was delicious

↳ user: if this man can cook, it’s not charles 😭

user: ain’t no way its charles since he cant cook

yourbrother: les pâtes ont l’air bonnes 🤤

see translation: the pasta looks good

↳ user: yourbrother is the biggest charles food hater

↳ user: so that confirms it’s not charles or????

charlotte2304: oooouuu 😍

user: is that charles?

user: girl— arthur’s story??? hello???

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine

comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc: je veux des pâtes maintenant

see translation: i want pasta now

↳ user: are ya’ll together or nah??

user: PLEASE TELL ME THAT’S CHARLES 😭

user: ughh, you’re literally goals 😩

↳ yourusername: 😘 you’re a doll

user: YN, one chance, please 🙏🏼

user: guys, that is definitely charles

leclerc_pascale: tu me manques, jolie fille

see translation: i miss you, pretty girl

user: CONVINCED that that is charles

lorenzotl: 😏

user: part of me says it’s charles the other part says nooo

user: can we trade lives?

user: idk if i want to be you or be with you 😩

user: her account is aesthetically pleasing

user: @charles_leclerc that better be you, mate

carlossainz55: did he really cook? 😂

↳ yourusername: yuppp

↳ user: this confirms it’s charles, noo?

user: prettiest girl ever 🥰

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

↳ user: OMG ILY

yourusername

liked by lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale and 699,640 others

yourusername: yes, i’m that bitch 😘

view 6,102 comments

user: the caption lmao

user: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

user: parents are officially back

user: bItch omg—

user: she’s THAT bitch (a baddd bitch) 😍

user: @exwife currently crying rn

user: MOM AND DAD

user: YN, YOURE A BADDD BITCHH 😩

user: can chaRles fight?!??

↳ yourusername: unfortunately, he cannot

↳ yourusername: so i’m gonna need you to settle down, babes

↳ user: are you flirting with me??

carlossainz55: ABOUT TIME

sebastianvettel: ❤️❤️

user: the shade 🤣

leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille 😘

see translation: my beautiful girl

isahernaez: gorggg 😍

user: I KNEW THEY WERE BACK TOGETHER

user: THANK GOD THEY’RE BACK 😭😭

user: leave him, he doesn’t deserve you

yourmom: je vous aime tous les deux ❤️

see translation: i love you both

user: we love supportive mothers

↳ user: yourmom and pascale >>

user: YA’LL BETTER GET MARRIED THIS TIME FRRR

| liked by yourusername

user: charles is a romantic

charles_leclerc: je t’aime, mon amour 😘

see translation: i love you, my love

charles_leclerc: c’est ma fille

see translation: that’s my girl

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine

↳ user: we get it, that’s your girl 😔

arthur_leclerc: “just friends” 🤣

↳ yourusername: 🤫

↳ user: LMAOO

charles_leclerc

liked by yourmom, sebastianvettel and 700,177 others

charles_leclerc: avec l’amour de ma vie 🤍

see translation: with the love of my life

view 5,846 comments

user: will never get over them

user: PROPOSE TO HER, YOU COWARD 😩

user: that’s a sexyyy back

yourmom: ❤️❤️

user: yn, you’re sooo gorggg 😍

yourbrother: ella ressemble à ce minion

see translation: she looks like that minion

↳ arthur_leclerc: oui, ella le fait

see translation: yes, she does

yourusername: mon amour 😘

↳ charles_leclerc: je t’aime

see translation: i love you

user: wife her up

user: MOM AND DAD FRRR

user: he sure moved on real fast 🤣

↳ user: its been like two month, YOU move on

↳ user: plus yn is literally the love of his life .. (soulmates frr)

user: “with the love of my life” 😭

user: exwife could’ve had all this LmAo

user: actually, she’s the love of MY life

user: they’re so important to me

user: you better not fuck up this time

joris__trouche: 😉

user: MY wife and her boyfriend

user: you better wife her up, mate

user: ynnnnn 😍

user: can we talk about his back for a second?!!? 😩

user: poor exwife 🥺

↳ user: girl, bye! go support that cheater elsewhere

user: HE GOT THE GIRL AGAIN!!!

user: parents 😘

user: she’s the most gorgeous girl ever, i swear 😍

| liked by charles_leclerc

user: ADOPT ME, PLEASE

user: i love them so muchhh 😭

user: my parents

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbrother and 674,857 others

yourusername: meet my baby boy leo <33

view 4,026 comments

user: OMG THAT TWITTER ACCOUNT WAS RIGHT

user: omg omg omg omg

user: bItch omg— IM IN LOVEEE 🥰

user: can ya’ll adopt me too?!?? i can bark

user: i need toby and leo to meet

yourbrother: 🥺

↳ user: WE NEED A PIC OF TOBY AND LEO

arthur_leclerc: oncle arthur à son service

see translation: uncle arthur at his service

lorenzotl: aww

charlotte2304: je suis amoureux

see translation: i’m in love

user: THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭

user: leooooo 😍

user: mommas boy

user: i can also bark, if you wanna adopt me as well

user: i cant, omgg

charles_leclerc: ma belle fille

see translation: my beautiful girl

charles_leclerc: mon beau garçon

see translation: my beautiful boy

charles_leclerc: mes deux amours ❤️

see translation: my two loves

landonorris: im gonna steal him next time i see him

scruderiaferrari: now we just need a baby leclerc

| liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

↳ user: admin is one of us 😭

↳ user: LMAOOO

user: PLEASE ADOPT ME TOO 😩

user: that dog lucky asfff

user: where’s the ring at??? 👀

user: mom and dad (frrr) 🥰

user: he’s sooo cute omg

francisca.cgomes: baby leo 🥰

user: obsessed with their cute little family

user: we need leo to meet toby asap

alex_albon: cuteeee

user: lewis got competition in the paddock now

user: charles referring to them as “my two loves” 😭😭

user: CHARLES, WIFE HER UP

carlossainz55: 🐶

user: them >>>

user: alexa, how can i become a dog?

user: BARK BARK (adopt me now)

user: cute family 🥰

user: obsessed with them omg

carla.brocker: awhh 🥺

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 698,748 others

charles_leclerc: LEO LECLERC LN 🐶❤️

view 5,197 comments

user: OMG HE HAS BOTH THEIR LAST NAMES 😭

user: when are you gonna wife yn up??!??

user: leo leclerc ln 🥺

user: leo pulling up to miami is so iconic

user: daddy’s boy

pierregasly: 😍

↳ user: is this emoji for leo or charles???

yourusername: mon garçons 😘

see translation: my boys

yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: where’s yn’s ring??!?

user: charles, adopt me, please

user: leo 🥰🥰

user: yn went to the miami gp to support her man!!!! 🤩

↳ user: and leo went to support his dad!!

user: that dog is luckier than me, i swear

user: he better wife yn up

| liked by charles_leclerc

user: i dont think leo realizes how lucky he is

user: leo, ask your parents if they can adopt me 😭

user: yn and charles starting a family

yourmom: 🥰🥰🥰 baby boy

user: obsessed with them

user: i love their cute little family

user: yn leclerc when??

user: couldn’t take toby from yourbrother so yn got her own dog

user: model leo??

user: second slide is so cute omg

user: they got their first puppy together 🥺

user: his last name 😩

user: i wanna be part of this family too

user: in love with all three of them

user: leo got the model genes from his mommy 🤣

user: WE NEED LEO AND TOBY TO MEET!!!! @yourbrother

user: the LECLERC-LN family is everything 😩❤️

↳ user: the way both their families are soo close is so cute

↳ user: pascale and yourmom are the biggest yncharles shippers

[visionsofvenustarot]

Pick A Card Reading: What Are Their Current Intentions? 💘

Hey, it’s Visions of Venus Tarot, back for another pick a card reading. Thank you to everyone who has engaged thus far with your likes and follows! In terms of readings on this blog, I am going to do a pick a card once a week and my collective readings two to three times a week. So, if you’re one of my followers, you will be getting fed on a regular basis!

Today’s pick a card will be love based and ask the question of “what are their current intentions?” What is your person’s motives toward you right now and what action do they want to take? Remember that these types of readings are better if you’re not obsessing over the outcome. Trust that what is meant to be will happen.

There will also be an extended reading on Patreon where we will delve into channeled messages from your person to see what they would say to you right now. (Each pile’s extended reading will be linked at the end of its section)

So, choose the pile you feel most drawn to. It’s okay for you to pick more than one. There may be more than one person you need to hear about right now. Then, keep reading to see what your pile says!

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

PILE 1

Pile 1, this person is in a very turbulent state right now. Their intentions toward you are potentially something that you could experience as overwhelming. They may be too needy or too demanding or too obsessive. This is a situation that you could have cut off or distanced yourself from because it’s not truly healthy. It’s downright toxic tbh. That doesn’t mean this person is absolutely horrible. It just means that they are not in the state of mind to be pursuing someone. Yet, they are determined to pursue you. It’s like they are finally chasing. That’s what comes to mind. They are finally chasing you or they will be soon. The unfortunate thing is just how they only adopted this attitude once you stopped chasing them. If this is a twin flame connection, they definitely give me “runner” vibes. At least, that’s how they were before.

As I always say, you have the right to either accept or reject whoever comes around or back around, whether they are a soul connection, a spiritual tie, or not. You are the very spiritual one in this connection. This person might know about spirituality or even things like twin flames but they haven’t reached the level of evolution or maturity to approach it in a healthy way. So, they are either using this “twin flame” label to justify their actions and claim that you were meant to be or they are doing things like getting tarot readings to try and gain the upper hand. That’s something important to remember. Certain people don’t engage in this kind of content to enlighten themselves or grow. They may seek readings for quite a few low-vibrational reasons. Maybe they want to see what you’re up to, if you’ve moved on, if you want them like they want you.

They are terrified of rejection, totally terrified of it, especially by you. Given how special they see you, it would hurt them worse. But, are they treating you like you’re special? Did they in the past? If this pile has resonated with you, you have suffered a lot of pain and heartbreak in this relationship. You were so busy looking at the good in them that you didn’t see the bad, the red flags. You saw it but you might have excused it away. You might have even used the twin flame journey as a way to give this person pass after pass. But, you have significant strength of character, Pile 1. You know when enough is enough! And I do think you reached your breaking point with this person a while ago. They know that, too, and may have underestimated you in the past, thinking that you would always take them back or be there for them no matter what they did.

I do think there is a huge need for the truth to be told here. Most of all, this person wants to communicate with you. This has probably been a no-contact situation for quite some time, even if you never officially called it quits with them. In some way, they have been living a lie for a long time. They need to tell you the truth about how they feel (that’s what they’re thinking right now) and they also need to be truthful with others in their lives. Possibly someone they’re in a relationship with. They’re pretending. A lot of what they’re doing is a sham. And I do think you have lost significant trust in this person. Many of you don’t want to say much else to them but an official “goodbye”. It’s your choice! But, please, protect yourself and your energy, regardless. I am also getting that this person wants to receive that loving, nurturing energy from you again that’s been missing in their life, especially since I think they’re enduring a tough time. But, the message from Spirit is to tend to yourself in that maternal way. Right now, you deserve to care for yourself the way you cared for this person.

In your extended, we will be receiving channeled messages from your person and see what they want to say to you:

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 1

/////////

PILE 2

Pile 2, this person has a sense of overall calm and stability to them. They are approaching this connection from a reasonable mindset yet also a really spiritual one. I think they’re a very spiritual person and that is where a great deal of their confidence and clarity comes from. They’re a truly whole individual. And if this sounds like you, well, you’re a lot like this person. I think you two are on the journey toward one another. This is definitely soulmate or divine counterpart energy. It makes me feel like your souls know each other really well even if you haven’t actually met yet in this life. They could be part of your soul family in a close way and they also could have been in a romantic relationship with you before in a previous life.

They have gotten messages and signs about you. Plenty of them and I think it’s vice versa. Their current intentions, then, is to let things unfold. They want to allow the currents they are on now to naturally and effortlessly lead them to you. However, I do sense they will make an effort. They will take action, when the time is right. But, they just know that it’s not time yet. And due to the mirroring here, maybe you feel that way, as well. You both have work to do still and people and things to release before you can manifest one another. They may be doing things such as meditating, energy cleansing, releasing rituals, affirmations. Their intentions right now just involve setting their intentions in a way that allows their ideal life to manifest. Something doesn’t feel right in their current reality and they’re putting in the work to shift that. In doing so, they feel like they will be in alignment to be with you and have this relationship. But, they may be underestimating just how much they are already in alignment. This person can be hard on themselves and expect a lot of themselves. I also definitely feel like there’s some needed healing happening in both their solar plexus and third eye chakras. They are becoming more comfortable with their psychic abilities and intuitive insights. If you think it’s pretty wild to have this connection with him in the 5d and to just know something is meant to be, they feel the same way! But, it’s something you both are trusting in, overall. This does remind me of a pile in my previous reading where I said you two have probably met in a recent dream. You might even interact telepathically. You’re being guided to trust this and to have faith in your own abilities because it will strengthen the bond here psychically until it becomes physical.

Yeah, if this is someone you know really well, then this probably isn’t your pile. And just rest assured that you’re not being delusional here or going crazy. And I wouldn’t just say that! This person is also having an upgrade when it comes to their confidence. They have a VERY powerful aura and energy. But it’s really beautiful. They could also be highly physically attractive. They are already very secure in themselves but they are threatening and triggering to really insecure or low-vibrational people. This could have negatively affected certain relationships or even career situations in a significant way. It’s like people want to make them feel small or push them away because they can’t handle their light. And the confidence upgrade this person is getting is to not let that affect them. They are learning that it’s their purpose to fully embody their light and trust that the right ones won’t take that out on them. And I feel like you can relate to that SO hard. Again, you’re probably learning the same lesson. So, you are both trusting your intuition and learning these lessons now so you can manifest each other. It’s all very divinely guided.

In your extended, we will be receiving channeled messages from your person and see what they want to say to you:

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 2

/////////

PILE 3

Pile 3, your person is experiencing a huge transformation of self. It hasn’t been easy. They have actually been fighting it and resisting it for some time. But, they can’t really put up that fight anymore. And I think this is happening because of something that happened with you. If you put an end to this connection because of their past behavior, it’s something that hit them really, really hard. Maybe they never expected you to cut them off. Maybe they had no idea how they affected you or hurt you. Either way, they were very disappointed by this and it was a major catalyst in their life. It’s almost like they divide their life into before things ended with you and after things ended.

Spirit and their Team of Guides are largely responsible for this change, too. Because your person has been undergoing a spiritual awakening but with reluctance. Sometimes begrudgingly. But, they haven’t been able to escape the truth, even when they have tried. In the end, they are choosing the path of growth. They may be getting into spiritual studies for the first time, like astrology or Tarot or even something as simple as crystals. Honestly, anything spiritual would be a major step for them because I do feel like they have spent their lives as a very logical, skeptical person who didn’t believe in anything. But, their spiritual awakening came along and basically said, “Haha, yeah, that’s cute.” You might have also tried to introduce them to metaphysical concepts or explain it to them, possibly in terms of your relationship, and they just laughed it off then. But, now, they get it.

I do feel like they want to reconcile but there is also hesitation from them in a major way. They may still be in their ego and too worried about being rejected by you if they ask for another chance. They also feel as if they owe you the truth about something. It was something they lied about or were never able to admit. It’s similar to Pile 1 but I am getting a very different energy. That pile felt absolutely determined to do this, very locked in on you, even if they might not be expressing it now. Whereas this pile feels more sheepish, in a way. They don’t have the nerve yet to come back around and they are also not totally focused on you. And, actually, that’s a good thing. While they do want to show you that they can grow and evolve and be a better version of themselves, they also want to be that person for themselves, too. It’s not just about winning you back, which is a good attitude.

Whether you want to take them back or not is up to you. But, it may simply be reassuring for you to hear this, regardless, because it may have seemed like this person would never learn or never change. As if they would never grow up. But, change is possible, as long as the person is committed to it. I am curious to know what they will want to say to you in this extended because it does feel like a lot has been left unsaid here for however long you have been out of their life. Whatever they did, however they disrespected you or took you for granted, you should know that they really regret it. That doesn’t make it okay but they do. This is another reason why they are hesitant to come forward. They feel really guilty and really foolish. The challenge here, if you are open to it, is to look at this person from a lens of grace and empathy. And respond to them as such if and when they do come forward. Again, you don’t have to. But, if you are still holding on to any hard feelings yourself about everything, that attitude can bring you a needed sense of release and peace.

In your extended, we will be receiving channeled messages from your person and see what they want to say to you:

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 3

🔮🔮🔮

[shotmrmiller]

*Warning* kind of sensitive but, I’m struggling with eating atm, but I’m getting better and gaining back weight- sorry!!!

My nephew is a Simon sized bby. Chonky, michilin man, Hawaiian bread, pillsbury dough boy. Love him to the end of space and time. KISS his fat drooly face anytime I can. I was having trouble holding him one day in a shop and someone I knew (but hadn’t seen for a *long* time) walked up and looked stressed.

“He- you- there’s no way.” Uh- “…what?”

“There’s no way.” “I don’t understand….”

They make this weird hand gesture at me, like squishing their hands together. “There’s no way he *fit!*”

Okay- rude but, “how much does he weigh?” “…35…” “how old??” “5 and a half months.”

“Yeah, there’s no way. You’re like a shirt on a wire!” WTF?! “He’s my nephew.”

“See! I knew it!” And just walked away!!!

It felt like a drive by conversation!!! She just pulled up, hit me with her car! And left!!?? I felt offended but, also confused because how does one argue or approach the situation?! I looked like a gaping fish in the store!!! … it’s kind of funny now, Ngl.

I think Simon would get in a ‘nuh uh’ ‘yuh huh!’ Type argument if that happened to him and his girl and the baby. Except much more threatening…

i would've gone on the offensive but that's just me.

no one would argue that you're not the parent with simon around. and then if you do get surprised like that and tell him, no one would ever approach you again unless it's to give the kid some snacks that simon will take a bite of first.

and i just know whenever at the doctors for a checkup, the pediatrician is like you've, youve got to stop. dis tew much.

but what do they mean? you can't not feed the baby.

[yaralulu]

I don’t know why the fandom,hell even the books,does this thing where it’s constantly trying to blame/say that some characters enabled other character’s shitty actions.

Tamlin abused feyre—>Lucien let Feyre get abused.

Ianthe SA’ed and harassed Lucien —> Tamlin let Lucien get SA’ed by Ianthe.

Papa Archeron did nothing while Feyre hunted —> Nesta let Feyre hunt.

These are just some I see all the time and I’m pretty sure these are all reinforced in the books which is so frustrating.You cannot blame Tamlin’s abuse on Lucien,or Ianthe’s harassment on Tamlin or Nesta for her absent fathers shit.It’s stupid.

Lucien was in an impossible position in acomaf,stuck between trying to help his two friends whilst also struggling with his own shit.He tried to help Feyre,tried to talk to Tamlin and make him see reason but ultimately he is not responsible for what Tamlin did.

Tamlin was being manipulated by Ianthe and had no idea she was interested in Lucien.He didn’t force Lucien to perform Calanmai and he wasn’t present when it happened.He didn’t enable Ianthe and was literally clueless regarding anything that happened between her and Lucien.He is not responsible for what Ianthe did.

The Nesta situation has been talked about to death but ultimately their dad was supposed to be their care taker and he gave up on them.All archeron sisters deserved better and they were all children when their life fell apart.Can we start blaming the actual people who fucked up instead of trying to shift the blame onto other characters like I’m so sick of seeing these takes 😐.

[happylikeasadsong]

save it for later x sydney's decision

so we all know the song save it for later is everywhere this season so logically i was paying close attention to whenever the song would come out and try and read more into it.

i'll be analyzing eddie vedder's cover, released exclusively for the bear season 3.

let's dive in

of all scenes where they played it in, the one that really stuck to me was when it played in the bg while she was having a coffee with shapiro and he was offering her the job.

i saw this meta doing a deep dive in the fourth wall theory by @brokenwinebox that's based on @thoughtfulchaos773 meta on it too and they mentioned the songfacts interview where dave wakeling explains what the song is about and i couldn’t help but be even more intrigued by the meaning behind the scene in episode 7.

“So it was about being lost … and you'd have all sorts of people telling you this, that, and the other, and advising you, and it didn't actually seem like they knew any better. So it was like, 'Keep your advice to yourself. Save it for later.'”

so we know syd has been feeling under appreciated ever since carmy decided to take over the menu and started disregarding most of her ideas, if not all of them.

we see her talk to all people involved. we see her having her dad say the partnership agreement is flimsy, nat and cicero both having a friendly chat with her before telling her to sign the agreement, pete says is a good thing, carmy is being carmy, and then shapiro adding to her anxiety saying he wants her to run this new place and it all sounds incredibly good, but he plans to move fast…

it should be an easy decision if you look objectively at the situation. she’ll be getting a better pay, benefits, creative control and freedom to do as she likes, she’ll be seen as a partner from the jump, no circling around it, no doubts. chef adam shapiro wants her.

but chef adam shapiro doesn’t know her. doesn’t know her story or how she’s like. he doesn’t know about her failed business. and he definitely doesn’t know her history with carmy.

so for him i think this is a chance to have the cdc who’s working with carmy berzatto, the prodigy chef. it would look wonderful on paper. but he doesn’t know her.

sydney on the other hand has seen multiple articles on the near where they only show or talk about carmy’s accomplishments and gives only him the praise both of them should be getting.

i think that having her name erased from the restaurant she put her blood, sweat and tears in cause carmy was nowhere to be found, frustrates her even more (deservedly!).

sydney's lost. she doesn't know what to do or which path to follow.

all of these people around her don’t know what’s she’s going through because she won’t talk to anybody about it. she’s saving it for later, at her own demise.

she’s being pulled in all these different directions and she’s lost, she doesn’t want to leave her found family, but the offer is an opportunity for a fresh start in a place where she knows she’s gonna be running things as she sees fit and have the freedom to allow her creativity to flourish again.

cry, cry but i don’t need my mother just hold my hand while i come on a decision on it

this line makes me think she will eventually open up to someone that will help her once she finally makes a decision.

which can be her dad. he’s been calling and asking her about it and she said it herself her dad is the person in her life she can count on.

i don't know how i’m meant to act with all of you lot, sometimes, i don’t try

she gets tired of trying to reach carmy so she just detaches herself to make it through the day. we see that happening in ‘doors’, ‘violet’ and ‘legacy’ where she just accepts his final words and moves on, even though she’s frustrated.

sooner or later, your legs give way, you hit the ground save it for later, don’t run away, don’t let me down

we see her reaching her lowest in the last episode. quite literally, her legs give way and she hit the ground, cause she’s been bottling up all these feelings for so long that she cannot hold it in anymore.

we see flashbacks in her mind showing the family she found in the restaurant, she saw them grow so much with her these past months, they’re her family and she doesn’t want to runaway and let them down.

don't run away, don't run away, don't run away x4

this part of the song you can feel the desperation on eddie's voice, it's not an easy decision to make, running away.

she doesn’t want to let anybody down. that’s her biggest fear. so she says she’s gonna think about chef adam’s offer, she nods in agreement when nat and cicero tells her to sign the partnership agreement. she agrees when pete says it’s a good thing cause she doesn’t want to let anybody down, she can’t. and this takes a toll on her we see manifest in her panic attack.

for the second part of the song is where my delusion swoops in lmaoo

now, as i said before, the person who’s she’s finally gonna open up about her struggles can be her dad, but reading the lyrics, makes me want it so bad to be carmy.

maybe im projecting too much, idk, but it really fits them so perfectly.

two dozen other stupid reasons why we should suffer for this? don't bother trying to explain them just hold my hand while I come to a decision on it

i don't know why, but these lines makes me imagine a scene where they’re finally talking about their feelings and she express her frustration with carmy for the past months, she talks about how leaving is the best decision objectively and gives him her reasons.

she seems set on finally making a decision, but she needs him to help her through it cause this is the hardest thing she ever had to do.

she’s letting him down and she’s running away because this is the best thing for her right now.

why don’t you hold me? why don't you and kiss me now? why don't you just hold me?

as a hardcore sydcarmy i’m holding out hope for that big sydcarmy fight that’s for sure coming the next season so that we can finally see how they react to one another when they finally say what they’ve been meaning to say all this time.

hold me and kiss me now run away, run away and let me down x4

in this final part of the song eddie's voice sounds like he came to acceptance that she's leaving. he just needs to hold and kiss her to see her out.

maybe carmy will understand her reasonings and will let her know it's okay for her to go and find better things for her and though i'm a firm believer she's not leaving in the end, i think this would be a nice alternative solution to her problem if it comes to it.

sydney's so afraid of letting everybody down that she never thought they might want her see her happy in other places and that that's okay to leave. i don't think she has considered this option yet.

anyways this is just my first analysis on it, i may have to revisit once i think more on it. i'd love to know if anyone has thoughts on it too, i'd love to read them!