#I will not be normal about him in the future

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I want the LaDS boys to react when someone else accidently makes his s/o sexy gasp/moan; someone had randomly poked a spot on her back to get her attention, but it was one of her sensitive spots. Does that make sense? You can write them all or pick one.

Hands off!

Tags: LADS men x fem!Reader, established relationships, jealous LADS men, threats of violence (Rafayel’s) and slight stalking (Caleb’s), suggestive content, NSFW (Sylus’s), MDNI

An: what a wonderfully devious request, i love it.

ZAYNE

The two of you were at a fundraising banquet. The hospital was raising money for pediatric oncology treatment. While Zayne wasn't an oncologist, he made a habit to show his face at most Akso Hospital events, especially ones for a good cause.

You were surrounded by city hall representatives, nurses, doctors, and other big wigs in the healthcare industry. While you felt out of your league, Zayne assured you that he often felt out of place as well, but it was for a good cause at the end of the day.

Giving your temple a light kiss, Zayne follows one of his residents towards the small dessert table that the hospital has set up.

You busy yourself, listening to another doctor's wife prattle on about a recent trip she took to the islands recently. You nurse a glass of champagne to your lips as you're only half listening to her. Inwardly, you wonder when Zayne was going to be back.

“Ah~!” you gasp, face reddening as you jolt slightly. You spin on your heel, looking to see whoever just grazed their hand over your lower back.

You feel you skin grow hot with embarrassment as you see a fellow doctor that Zayne works closely with behind you. He's a little bit older, much old enough to know better than to touch a married woman there. "Oh, I apologize miss. I didn't mean to startle you."

Before you can even think of how to respond, you feel a presence press to your side, and you immediately recognize the smell of your husband's cologne.

"Dr. Hartford, to what do I owe the pleasure?" his stoic voice fills the space, and his hand steadily slides across your lower back until he wraps his palm conspicuously around your hip. It's subtle, but he's staking a claim over you.

"Dr. Zayne! It's so good to see you. I see this must your missus," Dr. Hartford says with a jolly smile. His cheeks and nose are red telling you one of two things: either he's embarrassed to be caught touching you while Zayne was present or he's had far too much alcohol. You decide that it was likely a combination of both factors.

"This is my wife, y/n." Zayne says as his hand imperceptibly tightens around your hip. It's not very often you get to see this more jealous side of him. "For your own benefit, Dr. Hartford, it'd be wise to keep your hands to yourself in the future. You know how... touchy HR can be about these sorts of situations."

Your eyes widen as you look up towards your husband in slight shock and awe. Only Zayne could threaten someone so professionally and look so handsome while doing so.

Now, if only you can convince him to take a few sips of champagne tonight, and you'll have yourself a good night.

RAFAYEL

Being a Lemurian meant that every one of his senses is attuned to be able to experience his beloved better. This meant he practically heard your small moan before it ever even left your lips.

His eyes search the crowd at the art exhibit he was forced to attend. You promised to stay by his side, but where were you now?

To the average person’s eye, Rafayel looks completely normal right now. Someone would even say he seems aloof, but to the people who truly know him, he’s seething with an unforeseen anger.

Once his eyes zero in on you and Thomas of all people, Rafayel feels his anger only double. He doesn’t even excuse himself away from the group of people that were talking and interviewing him about his latest painting. He walks over straight to you.

“You know, it’s not nice to touch things that aren’t yours,” he says, throwing a quick glare over at Thomas. His voice sounded lighthearted, almost like he was some petulant child who caught someone playing with his favorite toy, but you knew the truth.

Thomas’s face was already beet red. When he grabbed your side to stabilize himself, he didn’t think you were going to make that noise. He also didn’t consider that Rafayel would hear it.

You look towards your boyfriend, who is nearly pouting at you from the whole exchange, and you playfully roll your eyes. “Thomas was just trying to keep his balance. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Well, if my girlfriend was standing beside me, then Thomas could’ve grabbed someone else’s girlfriend, bur no, he had to grab mine,” Rafayel huffed as he turned his nose up at the two of you, putting on a show of bratty behavior.

“You’re so helpless, Rafayel.” You tease, looping your arm around his to follow him back to his painting.

“Only for you, miss bodyguard.” He then reached out a hand and drops a piece of paper onto Thomas’s extended hand. “That’s for you.”

Thomas waited until the two of you were a distance away before he slowly unfolded the small piece of paper. His eyebrows furrowed as he read the words on the paper.

I’ll kill you and paint with your remains xD

Stunned, Thomas looked back up to where you and Rafayel were. His eyebrows furrowed a little bit, wondering if Rafayel was just playing or not…

XAVIER

The moment a sharp breathy moan leaves your lips while you, Xavier, and another Hunter are out on the field, you know one thing is certain. Xavier's going to kill him.

His hand is still wrapped around your waist. He had only grabbed you to protect you from stepping in a puddle on your way towards reported wanderer activity.

Unfortunately for this poor hunter, who you thought was actually named Hunter, your waist was where you were most sensitive.

Xavier immediately spun around, and his light blade was out within milliseconds. His sapphire blue eyes narrowed as he saw where Hunter was grasping you. His jaw tightens, and you can immediately perceive the stormy look on his face.

“Hands off her,” the blonde hunter demanded. “She’s fine. She can handle herself.”

“Right— I was just.. helping her out, man. No harm; no foul,” the other hunter said as he took his hands off of you. He held his palms facing Xavier in a surrendering position.

No one in the UNICORNS knew about yours and Xavier’s budding relationship, but they were going to find out real quickly if Xavier’s jealousy kept getting the better of him.

“Y/n, you should lead,” Xavier says, ignoring Hunter’s statement. He puts you in the front of their small group, and he trails right behind you, leaving Hunter in the back.

While your back is turned, your boyfriend casually pointed his light blade towards Hunter, forcing space between him and the group. He then shot a glare that could kill over his shoulder to Hunter.

The intention was clear. Xavier was posturing. His glare said all the unspoken words that he could not. ‘Stay away. This is mine.’

The poor man didn’t even speak to you for the rest of the mission. He was way too intimidated by Xavier to even consider it. Oh well, Xavier would just have to keep you company.

SYLUS The two of you were at a couple’s massage. Well, you were getting a massage, and he got to watch with a glass of wine on the side.

When the masseuse’s fingers rubbed into your neck, targeting all the knots from stress and tension, a breathy little whimper escaped your throat.

Sylus was already having a hard enough time concealing just how much of an effect you had on him. His right ankle was propped against his left knee, and he was settled back onto the chair.

He let out a deep, rich laugh that only men with old money seemed to have.

You were clearly embarrassed, clenching your eyes shut as you profusely apologized. The masseuse tried to reassure you that it was natural, and it only meant she was doing a good job.

“Careful kitten, if you stress yourself out anymore, you’re going to need a massage for this massage,” he teased, swirling his wine glass in his glass cup.

“Oh no, that would be sooo terrible,” you responded back with sarcasm bitten into your tone.

“We all know you’re having a good time, kitten. No need to rub it in everyone’s faces.” A smirk curled on his lips as his roamed over your body, only covered with a towel.

“Shut it-!” you whined, feeling the embarrassment creep back in.

He was doing a good job at hiding it, but his pants felt extremely tight. The thought of you letting out those delicate sounds accidentally, so overwhelmed by painful pleasure…

He took another sip of his wine, and he eyed the masseuse closely. He had gotten massages from her in the past. He knew she was happily married, and he had nothing to worry about. Even if the masseuse was some single guy, he would’ve still been comfortable in his position. He knows you’re not going anywhere; he trusts you with his entire being.

Still, he watched extra closely. He now felt the need to learn how to use his hands like that. The next time you got a massage, he wanted to be the one to make you let out those noises. He also wanted to be in private, so he could bury his cock into you in peace.

CALEB

Oh, oh man… First of all, when you and Caleb first started dating, he barely let you out of arm’s length of his side. He couldn’t help it. He needed you there with him :(

However, when he finally started letting both of you do things on your own, he still had a habit of watching you.

You were going to go get drinks with a girl friend? Oh okay, that’s fine… the bar has cameras anyway :)

You needed to go to the grocery store? Caleb’s already hacked into their security system. No big deal.

You wanted to go out for a walk? Sure, Caleb would just walk a good enough distance behind you so you didn’t see him, which is exactly what was happening when he heard that small whine..

He knows that whine by heart. Hell, he’s been teasing you for years, but he’s only heard that specific whine when he’s rearranging your guts.

Subtlety be damned. He didn’t care about staying incognito whenever there was someone else who just got to hear that very, very sweet noise from your lips.

When he jogs straight up to you, he’s nearly panting but not from jogging — his pissed. The guy who had gotten you to make that noise was profusely apologizing for accidentally pulling your hair. Apparently, he saw a bug on you or something…

It didn’t matter to Caleb. Of course, he was polite, putting on a good show by laughing and teasing you. He ignored the confused looks that you threw his way.

“Yep, my girlfriend is so unaware, haha. Thanks for getting that bug off her. She hates those things,” he flashes that pretty smile that’s gotten him out of trouble for years.

While guiding you away from the man, he assures you that he was just going the same way as you because he needed to run to the market really quick for a very specific ingredient for what he was making for dinner tonight.

And of course, the kind stranger was never heard from again. If you have any information on the missing man, please contact the local authorities or the Deepspace Aviation Administration. 

[freyito]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ...

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti, mr. reca, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, mydei, phainon, anaxa (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you bring home a chimera that looks like them.

✧ a/n: SOMEHOW IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE POSTED A FIC??? IDK IF THIS IS NORMALLY HOW LONG IT TAKES ME BUT AUGHHH!!!!!!! i got a job again and many more things happening irl but i am FINALLY! FINALLY!!! starting to get back into the groove of writing and drawing and even gaming teehee... sometimes all you need is a change to get out of a slump i guess.

you may also notice that a few characters are missing from this post! thats cause whenever i do one of these big ol posts, a couple of characters really tend to make it feel like it drags on for me. that leads to me really dreading writing the fic and, of course, leads to me taking a month on the fic lol. this will be one of the last posts i do with all the male characters (and female, if i ever decide to write for them in the future), before i move onto writing five characters at most. im sorry if you guys liked these posts and your favorite characters werent written for, i know these are like. my most popular pieces. it just takes so long and by the time i reach certain characters i feel like im all outta juice.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

⎯ Aventurine

“Well… I suppose we’ll see how this goes…”

AVENTURINE isn’t exactly against the idea of a chimera, but with all his catcakes, is it a good idea…? Both of you don’t know, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit that you didn’t think of this before bringing home the chimera. He’s not mad though, he’s quite taken by the little creature. But, with his penchant to collect catcakes, he worries about possible socialization issues.

The chimera, however, fits right in– aside from its striking eyes. Loafing and lounging with the catcakes, day in, day out. With a big ol’ smile on its cute face, happy to be with its kin… You think. Chimeras have the body of lion cubs, right? So aren’t they like… kind of related to catcakes? It’s a question you’d rather not ponder. Still, even so far from home, the chimera seems quite content. Paired with a bunch of companions who are all spoiled equally.

That being said, it seems you have chosen one of the laziest chimeras known to man. Ever since you had brought it home, it had kept Aventurine in bed even later, refusing to get up from his chest, even if the man had a meeting. It seems Aventurine has spoiled it far too much, or it has gotten so used to the comfortable life that it’s gotten quite stubborn…

⎯ Dr. Ratio

“Interesting….”

Most would not take RATIO as any type of pet person. No cats, certainly no dogs, no birds… the list goes on. Even his colleagues would not have guessed he’d take such a shine to such a… cute creature. As far as they know, cute is not a word within Ratio’s vocabulary. So, when his peers and students see a chimera toddling behind him, they can’t help but be interested.

He acts like he isn’t attached to the chimera, treating it more like a specimen than the cute little lion-butterfly-thing it is. When you first brought it to him, he was quite intrigued. A creature from a planet that not even the memokeepers can reach… It's a wonderful research opportunity, and a gift. One he cherishes, despite his logical approach to it. 

It seems he has bonded with the chimera on a deeper level than you expected. It just so happens that you have picked up a chimera that not only looks like Veritas, but also one that was just as enlightened as he was. You think. You don’t understand a lick of the chimera’s little chirps, but Ratio seems to understand well enough. Then again, the math that he prattles on about with the chimera, you don’t understand either.

⎯ Boothill

“Awh, who’s this little feller?”

BOOTHILL is actually quite delighted when you bring a chimera home to him, even if your reasoning is a little… odd. Looks like him? Well, there’s only one of him and that means there’s only one look-alike; the man in the mirror. Still, despite this, he’s practically in love with the chimera. It’s been so long since he’s even had a pet– and he’s always missed the dogs and cats on the ranch– so why not indulge in your silly little shenanigans, and appreciate this little critter you’ve taken the time to pick out for him?

The two get along so well. Boothill had always wanted a pet eventually, but with his lifestyle he was afraid to ever adopt. Considering he was running around half the galaxy, he was wanted, and the closest thing to home he knew now was a ship, it was just unfair to subject any sort of animal to that life. Now that he had you and a proper home, however, he had been debating getting a pet for a long, long while.

So imagine his surprise when you had handed off a chimera to him the minute he got home after a particularly rough bounty. Even the most snarkiest, annoying personality would have him charmed. It could constantly choose you over him, and he’d still fawn over the thing. He’s happy you have someone to keep you company when he’s away, but the little kid in him (who remained, despite the fact that everything around him had burned to ash) is much more happy to come home to a pet once more.

⎯ Gallagher

“Another stray, hm?”

Despite the chimera’s protests that it is not a stray, GALLAGHER doesn’t seem to mind a new pet. He’ll just pretend he didn’t hear that comment about the chimera looking like him. You had compared him to a dog so many times before, that he was practically immune. Even if a chimera wasn't a dog, or a cat, or… well, there was no use in wondering what exactly it was. Though, he was quite intrigued that you had brought home something from Amphoreus of all places, it seems that the nameless just keep going for bigger and bigger marks.

The chimera itself is quite happy to get away from its work and laze about. On the days that Gallagher is home, it enjoys curling up on his lap (or his chest, if Gallagher is napping), and bathing in his and your attention. It’s quite domestic really, you have seen Gallagher with his other pets before, but he’s more of a big dog kind of guy. To see something relatively small curled up with him, when he’s watching TV or getting ready for bed, it makes you feel… light.

He’s also quite happy to have a pet that can actually talk back. Gallagher often catches himself muttering to himself because of how much he tends to talk to his pets. So when he gets responses from the chimera, even if it’s asking to go back to bed or telling him that this work is just ‘too much’ (all Gallagher was doing was pouring himself a drink, the chimera simply chose to follow him), it was still wonderful for him to have a buddy. It’s not everyday that you have a pet that can talk back to you, right?

⎯ Sunday

“Ah… you thought of me…?”

Now, SUNDAY isn’t against pets, he’s just a little nervous. The last pet he had… Well, you know what happened to it. But, by all means a chimera is an extraterrestrial. So, naturally, he’s a little shocked. Even if the little chimera is as cute as a button and just so damn happy to be in his lap. While he knew stepping aboard the Astral Express would mean he would see quite a lot– which included different planets, and by proxy, different flora, fauna, people, and what not– he never really expected to be face to face with such a… thing.

Looking into its wide, golden eyes, however, he feels a sense of… kinship. As weird as it is. He does his best to ignore it, not to get too overly attached to the chimera. After all, surely you must bring it back to Amphoreus. Right? He does his best to ignore the papers in your hands, and chooses instead to believe that this ‘adoption’ is more of a ‘foster’ situation.

That worry dissipates with the coming days. He finds himself quite enamored with the chimera, even sneaking it leftovers when he can. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up reading the creature passages from his books, or from some data entries he borrowed from the archive. In fact, the idea that you would have to bring the chimera back breaks his heart a little. Not that you would, it’s quite cute to watch the chimera follow Sunday around.

⎯ Argenti

“What a stunning creature!”

Isn’t the word ‘cute’ better instead? Nevertheless, ARGENTI is quite enraptured by the chimera. So much so that he doesn’t seem to realize the similarity of the creature. Really, when you saw the sparkle in its eyes, you knew this was perfect for him. The similarity was uncanny, really. With the way the chimera was staring into your very soul, chattering off (which, you could already imagine it was praising the beauty of you), a part of you wanted to get it contacts.

Needless to say, The chimera is glued to Argenti. Or perhaps it's the other way around? The man doesn’t have any traveling companions, and he had preferred for you to stay on his ship whenever he was out on one of his excursions. The chimera, however, seemed to be quite the trusty companion. That little ‘awoo’ must be vicious, given how highly the man spoke of it. ‘It’s like a cry from the very heavens!’

It seems your gift is quite well loved, though. Not that Argenti would ever dislike your gifts. You could give him a rock– one that isn’t even shiny or shaped in an interesting way– and he’d treat it like you’d have proposed to him. The chimera, however, seems to have struck a rather special chord within him. It is hard to know if you’ve truly surprised him, but you can definitely see how attached he is to the chimera. It has been too long since someone gave him something so meaningful. Perhaps even the first time.

⎯ Mr. Reca

“Ah, is this a new crew member…? Or perhaps, a new star?”

Is there a universe where MR. RECA isn’t looking for some scene to capture? ‘Cause it’s definitely not this one. No one has ever had the ability to capture something, anything from Amphoreus, so of course he’s fascinated with the chimera. He glosses over the fact that the critter looks like him. Not enough time to think about that, when this is a star in the making. What shall he come up with this time?

He unknowingly dotes on that poor little Chimera, as well… in his own way. There’s no critiques for the creature's performance (though, you must think that it doesn’t understand exactly what Reca’s goal is.), only dazzling praise, even for something as simple as curling up and taking a nap. Such a tiny little thing, full of all sorts of inspiration! It deserves nothing more than the best of praise!

For at least a month straight, he simply cannot stop thinking of ideas and ways to make the chimera a star. A documentary, perhaps. No, no, that’s too simple. A thriller, maybe? Now, that would be interesting. How could he use such a cute creature for such a medium…? Ah, so many things to work out! This excitement keeps him fueled for days. Oftentimes, he’s writing out scenes at his desk, pacing, or even talking your ear off. All while the chimera is curled up in his lap, content as can be.

⎯Sampo Koski

“And what’s this? A new business venture?”

Of course SAMPO looks at the chimera and sees a business opportunity. Not that he’s planning to sell it, no… this little fella could be the new face of his business. Cold Feet Junior, even. Needless to say, he loves the chimera. Who wouldn’t? Such a precious little treasure from way out there, somewhere not even the great Sampo Koski can get to.

Aside from the chimera now being the face of his business, he brings the thing everywhere like it’s a little chihuahua. It gets pampered to high heaven, with little treats even you have never heard about before. From all sorts of places, from Izumo to Punklorde. You start to wonder if these treats are even good for the chimera, considering just how different these foods must be from the ones back home. The chimera seems fine enough, however.

When he can’t bring the chimera with him, however, he’s the most pathetic man you know. He’ll fake cry, use a voice that is just so tear-jerking, and say a sorrowful goodbye to the chimera. He texts you everyday when he is out, begging for pictures, asking if it's okay, asking if it's eaten… and so on. You, of course, do your best to shower him with pictures of the chimera, assuring him that it’s never been better. To which, he always responds with some sort of keyboard smash (rare for him), and praises going your way, and the chimeras way.

⎯ Jing Yuan

“Hmm…”

JING YUAN could never turn down a gift from you, of course. Especially one so cute. If you hadn’t caught him at such an inopportune time (also known as nap time), perhaps his reaction would be more grand. Or the same, he’s never been one for big expressions. A simple ‘thank you’, a kiss, and something in return has always been his style. However,  this seems like a lot more than just a simple gift. A creature from Amphoreus… and a potential playmate for Mimi.

‘Potentially’ becomes a ‘definitely’ after some socializing. Instead of the chimera attaching itself to Jing Yuan, it’s very, very fond of Mimi. The grimalkin is quite well tempered, if not tolerant. The way the Chimera climbs onto him, like he is a mighty steed and not a proud lion… it’s charming in its own way. And yet, all Mimi does is maybe huff a little, and be on his merry way. Most of the time, he’d do the exact opposite the chimera wanted, by the sound of its annoyed chirps. Perhaps this was his way of playing with such a smaller creature…?

The chimera ultimately finds its spot on the bed. When you and Jing Yuan cuddled up, Mimi took his spot at the end of the bed. The chimera, unsure whether to stick themself at the end of the bed, in between you and Jing Yuan, or just sleep on the floor. Before it decides to exclude itself, Mimi makes the decision for it. With another huff (perhaps irritated that he had to leave his warm spot), he hops down from the bed, grabs the chimera by its scruff (not without it complaining, of course), and hops right back up. When you wake up in the morning, you find the chimera, stuck between Mimi’s paws, with the most content, familiar, smile on its face, while Mimi licks up its cheek repeatedly.

⎯ Blade

“...”

How many more times will this happen? First a cat cake, now a chimera. What’s next? A seal? BLADE really doesn’t know how to react. To be thought of is wonderful, but does it really always have to be in this kind of way? How many more creatures out there look like him? He can only hope you don’t find them for your ‘Blade collection’. Those poor, poor souls…

Regardless of his… pondering, the gift doesn’t go unappreciated. The chimera and Blade are like two halves of a whole, really. While Blade is sulking, so is the chimera… right next to him. When you adopted it, you swore it was just full of energy. Chirping and chattering to anyone who would listen, chimera, human, chrysos heir, no one was free from its chattering. In truth, you thought it was silly that something that held such a resemblance to such a broody man had such whimsy.

So, to see the little critter suddenly adapt Blade’s sulking and… edge, it’s a little surprising. Or not, if you understood how this tale has gone before. It’s actually kind of cute in its own odd way. When you point out the similarities in personality, all Blade feels he can do is grumble and huff. He should be used to your penchant for finding things that look and act like him by now, but somehow you always manage to surprise him. 

⎯ Luocha

“What an… intriguing gift…”

LUOCHA is never one to turn down your gifts, and he certainly won’t start now. But, despite the worlds he has traveled to and all he’s seen, somehow he’s never seen quite a creature. Perhaps it is the resemblance that throws him off. He doesn’t want to turn down your gift, but where he travels to may not be the safest place for the little Chimera. Very rarely does he stay home long enough to take care of any pet, either. He rationalizes that while it is a little amusing, this must be for you.

And of course he isn’t going to take that kind of companionship from you. It’s actually kind of endearing to him that you went through all this trouble to find a cute little look-alike. He’s more entertained by the way you dote on it, by the way you call it ‘Luo-Luo’ (even though the Chimera seems over it), and he wonders to himself if you truly got this chimera for him, or to have something to coddle while he was away. Not that you coddled him, normally. He isn’t a man to be doted on like that, and you are just too shy to do that to him.

He indulges in the adoption of the chimera, of course. Even when he’s out for months on end, he makes sure to call and check up on the Chimera (and you, but he does that normally). He shouldn’t be so surprised to see all the little outfits you’ve stuck the critter in, from cats (which makes no sense, considering the body of a chimera was a lion), to wolves. He wonders how many people you have commissioned for these little outfits…

⎯ Jiaoqiu

“And this charming little companion is…?”

JIAOQIU truly thought that the Tuskipir would be his only pet. He didn’t really need a service animal outside of the emotional support, considering he had a cane, and he knew the Yaoqing like the back of his hand. You, however, decide that if one critter does well, why won’t two do better? Plus, while the Tuskipir was used for more emotional wellbeing, Chimeras were experienced with work, and when you think about it, they’d make quite the service animals. 

What a shame that he can’t see the resemblance clearly. Still, he is quite touched by the thoughtfulness behind your gift. The chimera warms up to him all too easily, immediately taking its place by his side. Jiaoqiu doesn’t verbally admit it, but being thought of in such a way, especially after a trip that took you across the cosmos warms his heart. Even if he is pretty much completely recovered, it was quite nice to be cared for. Even as a healer.

In truth, as endearing as your gift was, he had expected the chimera to get in his way, under his legs, and become annoying in all sorts of ways. Given how happily it yipped and barked when you first arrived with it, he truly assumed it would be an annoyance. He’s pleasantly surprised that once the chimera has acclimated and settled, it becomes a wonderful companion. Chimera’s stomachs are so strong, you think, watching as Jiaoqiu feeds the critter a particular slice of beef that almost looks red, with the amount of spice he has put in the hotpot broth.

⎯ Moze

“I… Hm.”

It is rare for MOZE to talk without thinking. It is even rarer to interrupt his thoughts all together. You should be impressed with yourself. When met with the gloomy demeanor of the Chimera, Moze can only squint, open his mouth to form words, and ultimately lose them. What is he supposed to say? He’s never had a pet before, the strays in the alleyways who liked his scent were the closest thing to having one. All he really can do is hold the Chimera and stare into those oddly familiar eyes.

There is a quiet camaraderie between the two, once the confusion settles from Moze’s mind. When Moze is home (considering his work is too dangerous for any sort of pet), the two have a tacit, quiet understanding that you can’t quite… get. The Chimera follows Moze around, at a distance, and studies him closely, as if trying to commit his movements to memory. You swear, at some point, you heard Moze say ‘this is how you sweep’. When you walked in the room to check, the two were quiet as can be, while Moze was sweeping the kitchen floor, the Chimera perched on the counter.

When Moze is out, the Chimera sits by the door, or in the living room, or sometimes sleeps in his spot on the bed while waiting for him. It’s almost kind of heartbreaking when you think about it, knowing Moze is gone for most of the week. At the very least, it seems the Chimera is much, much more receptive to cuddles than your dear lover is. As much as it seems to miss its twin, it can’t resist curling up in your arms and taking a nap. It seems that the Chimera catches up on sleep in Moze’s place.

⎯ Mydeimos

“Hmph.”

MYDEI refuses to acknowledge the similarity. He pouts, sighs, and does his best to walk off and ignore the furry little companion you had brought home. The chimera trots after Mydei regardless, happy as can be, even if the man was ignoring it. You had to commend him, really. If you had something that cute following you around, you would fold immediately. But Mydei was stronger than you (and much, much more stubborn).

When Mydeimos wasn’t home, the chimera took up all his spots, short of the one in the kitchen. It’d sit in his chair at the table, enjoy the warmth of the private bath, and even take his spot on the bed. Which, Mydei truly doesn’t appreciate. Some days he is out from dawn till dusk, but he has always made it a point to come back home just before you fall asleep, so the two of you could sleep together. So to find you curled up with this little rascal, who was oh so happy to take his place, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s not jealous. No, no, he swears he isn’t. Why would he be jealous of a chimera? How silly. Despite that, you notice how he’s suddenly in much more of a rush to see you on the days that he is gone. He tries to beat the chimera to the bed, establishes his dominance in the kitchen (as if anyone could beat him), and makes it known– well.. you don’t know what he’s trying to prove to a chimera of all things. But it’s quite funny watching him try to one-up the creature, who was simply acting oblivious. Everytime you pet the chimera or praise it, you can always hear Mydei sigh. It’s not that he was neglecting the chimera in any way, not, he just had to one-up it. Almost every time he could.

⎯ Phainon

“Aha… Do I really look like this thing…?”

You are the third person to tell PHAINON a certain chimera looks like him. It worries him a little. Does he, a truly fearsome warrior that totally doesn’t have the air of a puppy, look like such a cute little creature? Looking into the chimera’s eyes, which are practically shining, he can’t help but concede… only for you, though. 

The very first thing this chimera does is challenge Phainon himself. To his surprise (and dismay), the chimera starts to take all his favorite spots.  Right by your legs, on your chest when you're sleeping, or when you're just laying down, and even in the baths. You find it cute, but Phainon… he’s not one to turn down a challenge, even if it’s initiated by a chimera. He takes every chance he can get to sweep you up off your feet and carry you off somewhere the chimera can only watch, like the hot baths.

While you find this kind of charming, if not funny, you can't help but feel bad for the chimera. When you show even the smallest amount of pity for it, however, Phainon decides its time to switch tactics. Instead of taking everything the Chimera did as a challenge, now it was a battle of charm. Anytime the Chimera begs for food (within his proximity), he rests his chin on your shoulder and tries to snatch the food from you. If the Chimera is sleeping on your lap, he makes an effort to also try and lay his head in your lap, and always, always, looks up at you with those pretty blues. You have to admit it's cute, but kind of pathetic. Not that you would ever want him to change.

⎯ Anaxagoras

“Hmph. But it is no Dromas.”

You, of course, know about ANAXA’s love for Dromases more than anything. You were one of the few who were graced by him and his magnificent onesie’s presence, after all. But, still, when you saw the little chimera, with its muted green coat and its missing eye, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he is truly amused at the fact that you have found his doppelganger? Or maybe he’s finally figured out where one of his eyepatches has finally gone… either way, his tone is hard to read.

It is not long until you notice how he dotes on the chimera… in his own way, at least. He doesn’t outright ignore the critter when it toddles behind him, and on more than one occasion you have caught him talking to it, prattling on about his theories while he cleans his gun. Despite acting annoyed that you had taken one of his eyepatches for a ‘silly little costume’, he does not attempt to remove it. Not once. You take this as a victory, of course.

The real kicker is when you caught him sewing a Dromas onesie for the Chimera. His hands aren’t the steadiest, but he sits so quietly (for once), all while the Chimera lays curled up right next to his legs. You don’t mean to stare for too long, but he ends up catching you. Instead of acting shy (Which, he never did), and brushing you off, he only huffs softly, and shakes his head, before going back to his sewing. You read this as an invitation to properly watch, and when you step into the room, he doesn’t complain.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[4bsurdcreature]

Something is wrong.

Something is wrong something is wrong something is wrong.

You don’t drop your drink on the bar floor, you place it gently on the bar it was served on, as you feel your heart pulse in cut time, while your face flushes and your hands shake. Next to you, a warm smile, a gentle hand, a deep voice asks,

“Are you alright?”

And your heart sings, your pulse leaps, all you can think is I love you, I love you, I love you! and you feel sick with the infatuation of it all. “I’m fine.” is what you eventually say, but it comes out unstable, higher pitched, than you want it too, and in turning away you watch your friends trade glances with one another.

“She’s in love!” One of them, Rachel, says to the other.

“I never thought I’d see the day!” The other, Beth, replies.

Something is wrong! You try to tell them, but you can’t get the words out, as they trade giggles and hushed tones while you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

----

Inside, you face yourself in the mirror. Water has done nothing to calm the fire in your gut, and the butterflies in your stomach swirl to a stampeding rhythm.

You’ve never been in love before, and you never thought you would be. You love, you have always loved, or sometimes loved, or kinda sorta loved, before. But you’ve never been *in* love; beyond passing curiosity, you’ve never wanted to be. It took a while to be okay with that, and an even longer time to acknowledge it, but this is how you are and regardless of how you, or other people, feel on putting a term to it, it’s how you imagined your future remaining.

Asexual. Aromantic. The bane to love-song propaganda. The constant butt of every joke that cries “This is what it means to be human! To Love! To Love! To Love!”.

Right now, you don’t feel human. This feels wrong, like a violation, like someone reaching into your nerves and burning them with the uncomfortable jolt of electricity, forcing you to jitter and move against any conscious choice. Forcing your blood to rush, and your mind to fill with him, him, Him!

Ants bearing love notes and centipedes scrawling heart-felt confessions skitter and scrape across the undersides of your skin. You would cry, you think, if your mind wasn’t cotton stuffed full of Love.

“There you are!” Rachel says, entering the bathroom to find you, shaking, wiping down your face one last time with water and crumbling brown paper towels.

“Something is Wrong.” You tell her, finally able to think without that man drowning your thoughts, content to be a constant undercurrent for now.

“I’ll say!” She laughs, “Look at you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Joshua back there!” No, no no, she has it wrong. You’re not here to think about Joshua’s soft blue eyes- Stop it! Blue: ice scrapping, chilling you to the bone.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t normal. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve never felt like this before.” You try to impress. You want to scream. You want to throw up, a little, too, but you can’t tell if that’s you or the Love.

“Twenty-seven is pretty late to get a first crush, sure, but Joshua’s a nice guy, I get it! Not to mention big, strong, and handsome~” She does that thing with her voice. That double entendre waver that you always thought was a little gross, when talking about someone in love.

Why doesn’t she understand- “No, I mean- Don’t you think it’s weird? Isn’t this out of character? I don’t-” You can’t, “But now-” You can’t even say it, “It won’t let go. It won’t stop. I want to be with him, I want him to be with me! I feel weird! This isn’t right!”

“You’re being dramatic... but I guess that makes sense- it’s your first time, after all! Oooh, I can’t believe I got to be there when you fell in love for the first time! This is so romantic, it’s like a fairy tale! No one was right, no one fit, you had resigned yourself to living a Loveless life, until suddenly, He appeared!” She sighs, dreamily. You think you’re going to be sick again.

But still, you stop and think. Stop to partition the little idiot in your brain that keeps designing cursive versions of your name next to Joshua, blossoming with bloodstained hearts in-between. Resigned, that’s how Rachel phrased it. Is that how she saw it, saw you? The bathroom door opens- it’s Beth. She’ll understand.

“You two were having a gossip party without me?” Beth says, but there’s no hurt in her eyes as she gives a sly smile.

“She’s In Love~” Rachel taunts you, incriminating flush branded deep in your flesh burning all the brighter.

“I saw!” Beth squeals, and your stomach drops, hope failing, while your Love soars.

“Beth, you’ll listen to me, won’t you?” You ask, desperate, a last ditch effort “This isn’t normal, this isn’t right- I think maybe someone poisoned my drink-”

“Oh, she just won’t stop.” Rachel cuts you off, rolling her eyes, “She’s convinced, that just because she’s never been in love before, that must mean there’s something wrong.”

“Being in love isn’t wrong!” Beth responds to Rachel, sympathetic gaze turned towards you, reaching out to hold your hands like you’re a child needing comfort, “Sure, you’ve never been in love before, and change can be scary when you’re not ready for it, but shouldn’t you be celebrating? Now you know you were wrong! It is possible for you to love! Isn’t that wonderful?”

You’ve known Beth the longest, you’ve confided in her the most. Every moment of your life had been charted out and experienced with her by your side, your best friend and confidant. She knew you before you had a name for what you were, and she had always acted supportive of your decisions. She was the first person you told, when you discovered your relationship with love.

Beth looked so happy, as she said those words ‘Now you know you were wrong!’

You can’t. You can’t look at them. But you also can’t stay here.

“I’m going home.”

“Already?” Rachel scoffs, arms crossed, looking at you like you’ve said something ridiculous.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Beth calls out to you, as you shoulder your way past her to leave.

----

No one believes you. You think that’s the worst thing you’ve discovered, about being in Love.

They see how your rash of a blush spreads when you talk about him, how you choke and stammer out praises mixed in with your loathing. They think you’re an idiot, new to your feelings, bumbling about them like a hormonal teenager, Love too big to think clearly. That last one is true, (Love all but suffocates you) but not in a way that you can make people listen.

It’s amazing, how few people truly care, when they think it’s about Love.

You ask for help, but it’s not the kind anyone wants to give.

‘Self Sabotaging’, ‘Repressed’, ‘Denial’, you’ve learned there are a million different ways to tell you that you’re wrong for thinking it’s wrong you’re in Love.

----

It is with vindictive satisfaction that you eventually prove your claims correct. When enough time had passed without you throwing yourself at Joshua like he undoubtedly assumed you would (and you were terribly grateful you were able to prevent), you caught him in the act of poisoning another drink. You had proof, and you took it to the right channels; you were cured and he would never do it again.

You were overjoyed, for a bit, but the victory itself was tainted. You stopped the villain, but the damage had already been done.

How quickly did those close to you turn, and how alienating it was, for no one to believe you. Puppeted by Love, reciting poetry of rotting verses, they mistook sweetness for healing rather than underlying disease. They must have seen the festering spread of Love as something to fill in the cracks of your character, instead of covering what little of you there was left beneath it all.

A gift in disguise, you think bitterly to yourself, as you wash the whole event clean. If your friends and family wanted you to be in Love, they can hold onto that fantasy- you don’t plan on speaking with them again, after all. They can read about what happened to Joshua in the news, and you can find a better group of people to spend your time with.

It is with peace you find yourself, in a life without Love.

"Aro/Ace person gets given a love potion" story but instead of them being immune or whatever, it DOES work, and they realize IMMEDIATELY that they've been fed a love potion because this feeling is so wrong and foreign but everyone keeps laughing off the idea of it being a love potion because "they were probably just a late bloomer" or "no, you just finally found the right person!" and it's just a horror story about how no one believes them even though they know, they KNOW this isn't right and they can't stand it.

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. slight smut (grinding, no orgasm), kissing, mentions of angst, MAJOR FLUFF

A/N: A bit shorter, get ready to giggle mfs

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P24: Perfect

Things with Baylen didn’t go well—they didn’t even go alright. 

It was fucking awful.

Playing video games with new skills I had acquired thanks to Chris were semi decent at first. Baylen was surprised I actually seemed to know what I was doing. He seemed pleased, even engaging in some small talk with me.

And then everything just went quiet. 

We were talking about childhood memories. I brought up how we used to make those forts in his room and how sometimes we’d be giggling so loud that dad would come and lecture us. 

Baylen fell silent after I had said that. His whole demenor seemed to change within an instant—and it really fucking hurt. 

I thought we were having a moment, I thought we were bonding—I thought I saw a glimpse of a better relationship with him in the future, but then he shut off the game, mumbling for me to ‘get out.’ 

Asking about it didn’t help. When I questioned why, he glared at me with a certain hatred that made my blood run cold. 

So I left. 

But I couldn’t be alone. 

And that’s why I’m here—in his bed, with his arms wrapped around me as his lips hungrily chase my own. 

“Jesus,” Chris huffs, letting out a dry laugh in between kisses as I desperately slot my lips between his own. 

It feels good, it feels comforting. The electric warmth in the pit of my gut seems to be the only thing keeping my heart beating inside my chest in a way that doesn’t feel like it’s trying to kill me with each pulse.

Chris smiles against my lips. His tongue hesitantly swipes across my bottom lip, the soft muscle intruding into my mouth in a way that makes my eyes shut tighter as I try to sink in every sensation. 

I needed this. I needed this so bad. 

No matter how horrible everything felt, something about him made it feel okay. 

“God,” he sighs, pulling away before resting his forehead against mine. “-you’re perfect, you know that?” he says, staring into my eyes with a gleam of adoration that makes my stomach swirl with excitement. 

His hand around my waist grazes over the side of my body. He wraps his hand around the back of my upper thigh, pulling me impossibly closer as my breath halts in my chest. 

“Chris–”

Before I can object, he plants another kiss on my swollen lips. “Fuckin’ perfect,’ he husks, trailing open-mouthed, warm pecks across my cheek, to my jaw, and down my neck. 

I feel his breath waver over my collarbone. My mouth falls open while his lips greedily envelope over my thumping pulse, right beneath my ear. A subtle gasp erupts from the back of my throat. My hands tangle tighter in his hair, my nails slightly grazing his scalp as he hums against me. 

Chris brings one of his legs upward, slotting it between my own as we both lay on our sides in his bed, the friction landing perfectly against the warmth radiating between my legs. 

“Oh–” The short sound drops from my mouth as my back arches instinctively. 

His movements become more rushed. I let myself grind into his leg between my own, the friction making my brows knit together as my eyes squint shut.

“Fuck,” he pants, removing his lips from my neck as he pulls his head back enough to truly look at me. 

He pushes his leg up even more, his lips parting with even heavier breaths as a deep moan erupts from my lips. 

Licking over his lips, he grabs my hip tightly with one hand, his eyes trained on my face as he guides my movements. 

God.

I feel like I’m melting. Everything seems so intoxicating, so consuming—so perfect. 

Like it’s meant to be. 

“Wish—wish you were mine,” he rasps, his fingers pushing further into my hip as my clit rubs perfectly against the layers of fabric between us. “-want you to be my girl so bad, so—so fuckin’ bad.” 

His words seem to collapse over my skin like a suffocating honey that makes me feel heavy in his hold. I let my eyes stare into his, leaning forward and hungrily kissing him with every ounce of emotion traveling from my heart and leaking into our tangled lips. 

Chris pauses his movements of his thigh pushing against my heat. He wraps his arm around my back, pulling me impossibly closer while sliding his tongue against mine. 

“I-” I pull back, only for him to chase my lips eagerly, “-I want that–” kiss. “-want that too.” 

As he plants another hungrily kiss onto my lips, he halts, his mouth relaxing against my own before he slowly pulls back.

“Are…” he swallows thickly, his hand squeezing my waist as his eyes flicker between mine, “-are you…sure?” he asks.

Everything seems to still. Each muscle, each movement, every single hesitation lingering in the air around us. 

My head nods up and down firmly. I lick over my lips, gulping as I let out a short sigh. “I…I want that—I really do.” 

The statement seems to roll into the air loudly despite how quiet my words are. I watch Chris’ eyes widen, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks quickly before his lips curl into a grin that makes his eyes squint with joy. 

“Are you serious?” he questions, biting on his lower lip as he stares at me intently. 

My brows furrow together as I think over the words. 

His girl. 

It doesn’t sound as daunting as it used to. In fact, I really like the way it feels to hear those words echo in my head. 

I really like the way it feels to think of him calling me that too. 

“I…I am, Chris.” I breathe, my eyes watering as I feel him immediately pull me into the tightest hug ever, all the tension in the air dissipating into something else—something more. 

It’s not sexual, but it’s intimate—a type of emotion I’ve never felt so potent before. 

And it feels like heaven. 

___

“C’mon,” he says, offering me a hand as I step out of his car. 

Chris was satisfied getting to call me his girl, but he wasn’t satisfied in the way it happened. He immediately said to forget everything that happened. Well, after he showered me in kisses, mumbling how I was ‘his girl’ under his breath. 

I slide my hand into his. “Thanks,” I mumble, biting back a smile as he closes the passenger door for me, guiding me further out of the car. 

It’s confusing. We could’ve walked here, we’re at the same park in our neighborhood that we’ve been to before. 

The slight breeze ruffles at the fabric of my sweater. It’s a bit cold, but not enough to make my skin form goosebumps. 

Chris separates our hands slightly, pushing his fingers to braid through my own, his thumb swiveling over the back of my palm. 

God. 

Now I have goosebumps. 

“What’s the plan here, Chris?” I tease, slightly nudging his shoulder with my own. 

A slight huff of air muffles through his lips. I narrow my eyes as I watch his gaze trained in front of us, turning my attention to follow the direction of his stare. 

Oh.

My.

God. 

The sunset shimmering through the trees and foliage around us creates a beautiful glow on the scene in front of us. 

This park is rough, a bit abandoned and worn down. But none of the rusted metal and peeling paint on the playset takes away from how pretty everything looks. 

“Chris…how did you…” My mouth gapes, my eyes watering as I take in a shallow breath of air. 

“I, uh,” he starts, briefly licking over his lips. 

Looking over, I watch as he scratches the back of his neck while tilting his head down slightly. He clears his throat, turning his head to the side as he gives me a shy, yet joyful glance. 

“I asked Matt to help—but, it was my idea.” he points out. 

My lips lift at the corner as I hold back a laugh. Chris’ face flushes with a slight pink hue, his mouth tightening into a straight line as he grasps my hand tighter, pulling me to follow alongside as we walk further towards the playground equipment. 

“Do you, um, do you like it?” Chris asks, his voice fading as my ears start to ring. 

“Chris…I—” My mouth opens and smacks shut. A warm sensation crawls up my spine, behind my ears, and over my cheeks. 

It’s perfect. 

A couple feet in front of the swingset, there’s a picnic blanket covered with petals thrown across it. There’s a small canvas on the fabric surrounded by the petals in the shape of a heart. 

The image on the canvas makes my heart skip over a beat. 

It’s us.

Well—it’s two stick figures that kinda look like us. 

The people on the canvas are holding hands, slight reflections of each of our appearances noticeable in the design. One of the figures has an arrow with the label ‘Chris’ too. 

Plus, the other person on the canvas has an arrow with a question after the words, ‘my girl,’ and a blank checkbox next to it.

It’s stupid, it’s corny—but it’s absolutely perfect. 

“So…” Chris trails, squeezing my hand as I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face, “-what do you think?” he questions. 

I look over at him with a soft smile, crinkling my nose before I look back towards the canvas. On the edge of the blanket, there's a couple paint tubes and a paintbrush. 

“I think it needs an extra touch,” I say. 

Dropping his hand, I sit on the blanket before reaching out for the paint, completely ignoring the brush. The background of his painting is a plethora of an orange and pink sunset, so I opt to grab the purple paint. 

Squeezing the smallest amount, I rub the wet liquid on my thumb, smiling before leaning over and looking down at the canvas. 

“C’mere,” I mention, turning to give Chris a quick glance before doing anything else. My nose crinkles as he furrows his brows curiously, a smile etched on his face as he slowly sits on the blanket next to me.

Grabbing his hand, I push my paint-covered thumb onto the pad of his thumb. His smile softens as he watches me move, carefully placing my thumb print into the check box. 

Wordlessly, Chris offers me his hand, pushing his thumb out. I smile as his eyes shimmer with fond emotions leaking through the subtle way he blinks slower, taking his hand, carefully pressing his thumbprint on the canvas, somewhat overlapping it with my own to create a heart in the checkbox.

“Perfect.” I sigh, slowly straightening my posture while my legs are folded under me, Chris’ hand still in my own as he starts to tangle his fingers with mine. 

The subtle squeeze of his hand makes me look over. His eyes are hypnotizingly soft, yet intense. I gulp, my eyes widen as he licks between his lips. 

“-absolutely perfect.” he points, hinting at a double meaning as his gaze wanders over my face. 

Wet paint is still lingering on our fingers, but neither of us seem to care while we both hold onto each other's hands a little tighter.

[bettystonewell]

IF YOU LEAVE

Chapter 1: Pretty in Pink

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

In the spring of 1988, Dean meets the girl of his dreams. He just doesn’t know it yet. 2k words

Tags: fluff, angst, young Sam and Dean, slow(ish) burn romance, childhood sweethearts, friends to lovers, 80s, 90s, season three, spans three decades, eventual smut, Rufus - crotchety at any age

@chevroletdean is celebrating 500 followers with a writing challenge! Liane made the beautiful mood-board above for me to work with. You can find more about the Milestone Celebration HERE. I’m gonna try and finish this before the 18th, but consider this chapter my piece for the challenge 😘

Next Chapter

April 1988

The first time Dean saw you was in third grade, Mrs Petersen’s class, but it wasn’t until during recess on the second day that you spoke. Your hair in pigtails, him with dirt on his knees, and a simple exchange over a juice box, because you were yet to learn how to filter.

At that point, as children often do, you didn’t think to ask for each other’s names, and when both boys walked through Bobby’s front door that afternoon, and he asked “How was school? Did you talk t’any other kids today?” He got a smile and a grunt as both boys ran up the stairs to their room.

“That great, huh?” He scratched his forehead under his cap, and went back to the kitchen to continue supper, and the hex bag he was making up for Rufus. The idjit had shown up on his doorstep earlier that day.

“I thought you didn’t have any Rugrats?” Rufus thumbed to the hall he’d come out of. A bottle of Jack in the other.

“I don’t,” Bobby said. But just as Dean didn’t realise the significance of you in his life at the time, Bobby hadn’t realised the boys in his either.

Dinner was simple that night. Bobby wasn’t a chef, but he was determined to give the Winchester boys something normal for once in their young lives. It’s why he’d enrolled them in the local school in the first place. Bought them bags and shoes. New clothes for Sammy because Dean’s hand-me-downs were far too big for the little tyke.

He’d even taken them to a barber, somewhere he never took himself, and signed Dean up for the school lunch program.

Yeah, he was growing soft. Lucky he had Rufus to point out the fact further with his outright stares and grins.

He was just doing a good deed. Looking after the future. Wasn’t that a part of being regular folk? Never mind the lady ringing up his groceries at the supermarket had frowned at him when he didn’t have a valid excuse for why they weren’t at school that day or two days before that.

Balls. That’s what it was. And he’d kick Rufus’ if he were close enough to reach with his boot.

Comments about him getting old, also balls. If Rufus was dumb enough to keep hounding him, he deserved a gun to his sack. Don’t worry ‘bout his steel caps.

He cleared his throat. Took a swig of beer and then settled his eyes on Dean. The kid was a smartass, but he was respectable, and had to open up, eventually. “So, did you learn anything today?” he asked. Tried to force a smile onto his face.

But Dean only shrugged, still defiant he should’ve been out there with his father.

“Well, what about your teacher? What’s her name?” He knew she was a she from the paperwork, Mrs Peters, or something like that. He just didn’t bother to remember in front of Rufus.

It didn’t matter though, because Dean shrugged again and shoveled another bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

Kids.

“My teacher is Miss Reeves,” young Sam piped up. Kid was smart for a four-year-old.

“Yeah? And what’d you do with her?” It’d been a long time since Bobby had graduated high school. Had no idea what kids in preschool did, besides the ABCs, he supposed. “Did you, ah,” he looked at Rufus for guidance, but the idjit had none. “Did you colour…or…sing a song?”

“I used blue, and red, and green for the grass I draws.” Sam beamed.

Okay… “That’s great, kid,” Bobby said.

Rufus downed another shot of Jack. The glass, sharp against the table when he hammered it onto the linoleum top. “Real great.” His tongue clicked. “What about you Dean? You colour, too?”

But when Dean said nothing, “Didn’t think so,” tumbled outta Rufus’ mouth.

“You could’ve given him a chance to answer.”

“Didn’t need to. He’s not gonna. Look at him.” Rufus swiped his hand out in front. His brow raised when Dean did say something, though, and then he looked interested.

“I met a girl,” he said, resorting back to his former slouching when he noticed both men frozen and staring at him.

It was the loudest he’d spoken since living under Bobby’s roof. The first time he’d shown emotion other than attitude, and Bobby couldn’t help but smile. Until he thought harder about the issue.

Did he have to give these kids the bird and the bees talk, too? Hell no, he wasn’t!

His fingers scratched through his beard. That smile of his fell to a thin, pursed line. Bit of teeth spiking through the gap.

“A girl, huh? Like a girlfriend?”

“No!” Dean lost his chin to his neck. “She’s my friend, and she’s a girl.”

Simple. Obvious. Bobby felt the fool. Until he asked the all important question.

“What’s her name?”

What was your name?

Dean couldn’t answer that because he didn’t know. You were a girl, you’d been nice to him, and you didn’t like orange juice. That was the extent of it. You’d played your game after that. The one where he chased you, and you ran, much like what hunters did. Only, you weren’t a monster, and he didn’t hunt.

Not allowed to. Too young to do anything more than babysit Sammy and stay with Uncle Bobby.

He knew they weren’t related.

When he stepped into the classroom the next morning, books in hand, his eyes swept the room. No, he wasn’t interested in the US map, or the globe in the corner. He didn’t care that Mrs Petersen was scribbling sums on the board ready for the day’s lessons or for the tall boy with the extra tires whose farts created a war zone as he walked through the dust cloud.

No. He focused on you. Hair once again in pigtails, hot pink t-shirt and matching nails, which he thought little of because it was all too…girly, but then you smiled at him and his nose tingled as a result.

“Hi Dean,” you even said, and it was all he could do to not smile back as he took his seat in the row behind you and the Bat-signal drawn onto your right heel.

He needed to learn your name.

Of course, to a nine-year-old, “You like Batman?” was far more important. He asked you that when he sat down next to you at lunch that same day. The pale green plastic of his lunch-tray, just fitting in between yours and the boy’s to his left.

Your look of disgust was apparent even from your side profile, and unlike his smile, Dean couldn’t hold back his laughter when you turned. Not only did you spit out the word, “No,” but a sliver of strawberry jello came with it.

You wiped at your chin and poked your tongue out, which made him laugh harder.

“I like Michelangelo more, but my brother says he’s stupid.” Your head and eyes dropped to look under the table. “Didn’t like it when I told him the Ninja Turtles would beat Batman up.”

“Well, Leonardo might,” Dean said, and you frowned. “With his help,” he added.

His nose tingled again.

There was lots of that over the course of the week and the one that followed. Dean learned your name, and that your mom’s middle one was Mary - it only took a couple of extra days - but from the moment you bonded over your favourite cartoons, the two of you became inseparable, and Bobby was pleased.

Both Winchester boys had a chance at normal life. Well, semi-normal due to the talismans and arsenal in his basement.

And while Rufus refused to show his face again, as long as Sam and Dean lived under his roof, Bobby didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed that. But it didn’t stop other hunters and their problems from showing up on his doorstep, and on one particular Saturday morning after hearing from Bill Harvellle, he dug deep into his wallet for a couple of dollar bills and handed them to Dean.

“Why don’t you take your brother and that friend of yours to the arcade or somethin’,” he said, then narrowed his brows at the boy. “Call the house line ‘round five. Make sure it’s safe to come home.”

Dean took the money and shoved it in his front pocket. “Yes, sir.” He nodded once, and then grabbed Sammy by the hand and pulled him to the door.

The air was warm when they stepped outside. As Dean always did, he put the needs of his baby brother first, pulling off the four-year-olds jacket, then tying it ‘round his waist. He did the same with his and they were off. Sam on the handlebars of the bike Bobby had fixed up for them, Dean peddling with all his might into town.

It was hard work, and by the time they reached your house, he was out of breath, but it was worth it to feel the wind in his hair.

Cheeks puffed, neck hot and sweaty under the collar of his T-shirt, he knocked on your front door with a tight fist, and took a step back.

The dark wooden floorboards creaked underneath his sneakers. Footsteps from the other side moved closer, and he was soon met with your grinning smile and a bright pink scrunchie in your hair.

He scrunched his nose up, but that turned upside down when he saw the Ninja Turtle action figures in your hands.

“Hi Dean,” you said, peeking around him to look at Sam standing next to their bike. “You guys wanna come in and play?”

But they didn’t. Just as Bobby had suggested, Dean had other plans, and after checking in with your mom, the three of you headed to the local arcade.

Whirs. Dings. Whistles. The electronic piano jingles and a rocking soundtrack that tried its best to overcome everything else greeted you when the tinted glass doors rattled open. Lights, as far as the eye could see, of neon pinks, greens and blues and a carpet, littered with stains of mud and grass from the other kids already there, matched all that was overhead and surrounding.

Sammy clung to Dean even tighter. His little hands tugged on the base of his shirt. While on the other side of him, your face reflected the excitement hammering up his legs.

Until this stage in his young life, Dean had only been to an arcade once. The lucky timing of a classmate’s birthday party at a different school he spent all of two weeks in, well before being dumped here at Bobby’s.

That place was awesome, but this? It was awesome, too. There was just something about not being accompanied by adults that made it better.

Pacman and Donkey Kong called his name. Q-Bert, whatever the hell that was supposed to be. Space Invaders. Pin-ball and claw machines.

“Look! They have a Ninja Turtles one!” You pointed towards the back where a large machine plastered with their now fluorescent green faces stood out amongst the rest. “C’mon Sammy.” You grabbed the youngest boy’s hand and ripped him away from Dean.

“Hey, wait,” he called, but under all the noise, it was a lost cause.

With a huff, and one eye on you both at all times, Dean jogged over to the change machine by the door and swapped his money for quarters. You guys were the worst. Annoying. Impatient. Yet the way you grabbed the chair for Sam, and held it steady for him while he climbed up, had Dean’s nose buzzing again.

His nose buzzed like that every time he saw you. Playing games, eating lunch in the cafeteria. Riding your bikes through the streets of Sioux Falls, side by side, that same wind in your hair.

It’s just a shame it didn’t last long.

Never did.

Sam and Dean Winchester flew through towns as many times as there were months in the year, sometimes more. The Spring of ‘88 a rarity. Their stint at the local school and preschool, even rarer, and one soon forgotten.

Until 1997 when Dean found himself enrolling at another school in Sioux Falls.

He didn’t know the significance of that either, but he soon would. You’d make him.

Next Chapter

Am I shooting myself in the foot by releasing this part when I haven’t finished the rest? Probably, but I’m used to it. We’ll be diving into three stages in Dean and readers life in this one - up next - 1997.

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[rsenak]

burn out

[kathlare]

between the lines

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie struggles with the aftermath of a close call involving Lando, questioning the future of their relationship.

Wordcount: 5.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

April 19th, 2025 - Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

The second Amelie saw the orange blur slam into the wall on the TV screen inside the McLaren garage, her heart stopped.

—No. No, no, no— she muttered, eyes wide as her fingers clutched the hem of her white button-down like a lifeline. The room was a flurry of controlled chaos, engineers scrambling, voices yelling over headsets, but all she could hear was the roar of her own pulse.

Her heels clicked against the concrete floor as she rushed to the entrance of the garage, ignoring Zak’s voice calling her name behind her.

—Where are they taking him?!— she shouted to no one in particular, her voice thick with panic.

One of the mechanics gave her a sympathetic look. —Medical center. He's conscious, just precautionary. Amelie, wait...—

But she was already gone.

Her small yellow purse bounced against her side as she sprinted down the paddock, white jeans now marked faintly at the hem by the dust kicked up from the rush. Her heels made it a challenge, but she didn’t care if she twisted her ankle — she needed to get to him. Now.

Her chest was tight, not just from the run, but from the sickening swirl of fear settling in her stomach.

—Please be okay, Lan. Please, please be okay,— she whispered to herself, eyes scanning the paddock until the crisp white and red sign of the Medical Centre came into view.

She rushed toward the door, but a steward stepped in front of her.

—Miss, I’m sorry. We’re still assessing him. You’ll have to wait—

—No, you don’t understand, I need to see him— she pleaded, voice breaking.

—I know, but we’ll let you in the moment they’re done. I promise.—

Her lips parted, ready to argue, but the weight of the moment caught up to her all at once. Her breath hitched. She blinked fast, trying to push the tears back as she nodded stiffly.

So she sat.

On the white bench just outside the medical center, legs bouncing nervously, hands wringing in her lap. Her gaze stayed locked on the door like sheer will could force it to open.

Minutes passed like hours.

And then...

—Hey,— came a soft voice from her right.

Amelie looked up, startled, her heart leaping again—but this time not out of panic. Alex Albon stood there, still in his race suit, a bottle of water in hand, hair slightly messy from pulling his helmet off. He gave her a warm, familiar smile.

—You alright, Ames?—

She blinked. For a second, she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a tear slip past her cheek.

Alex didn’t wait for her to answer. He just sat down beside her with a quiet sigh, elbows resting on his knees, close enough that their shoulders brushed. A grounding presence.

—I saw it on the screen during media. Scared the shit out of me, too,— he murmured, eyes flicking toward the closed door in front of them. —They said he was talking in the radio, right? That’s a good sign.—

Amelie nodded, her fingers twisting the strap of her purse like she might break it in two.

—Yeah, but he wasn’t getting out of the car. He just… stayed there. That’s not normal, Alex. He always gets out fast.—

Alex reached over and gently rubbed her back, his touch soft but steady. Reassuring.

—I get it. But he's tough, you know that. He's probably pissed he stuffed it, more than anything.—

She let out a shaky breath, pressing her lips together.

—He’s gonna hate this. He’ll be so mad at himself, like always. And I don’t care about that, I just…— her voice caught again —I just need to see him. Just need to know he’s really okay.—

Alex leaned his shoulder into hers gently.

—He will be, Ames. He’s Lando. Stubborn little shit— he said with a soft chuckle, trying to coax even the tiniest smile out of her. She gave a half-hearted one, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Silence settled between them for a moment, the kind that wasn’t awkward but weighty—charged with all the things she was too afraid to say aloud. Alex noticed. He always did.

He turned his head toward her, expression softer now.

—What’s going on in that head of yours, really?—

Amelie swallowed hard. Her gaze stayed pinned to the door in front of them, like if she looked away it might vanish and take Lando with it.

—You ever…— her voice faltered. She sniffled, her hand brushing at her cheek. —You ever have someone make you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship? Like, fuck with your head so much that you start wondering if the person you love even wants a future with you?—

Alex blinked. That wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. He straightened up slightly.

—This about Rodrigo?—

Amelie flinched, eyes closing like hearing his name out loud stung.

—I didn’t even want to look at him, Alex. But just seeing him again… the way he looked at me, talked to me... like he still had some hold on me, like I was still that stupid girl who was always too much or not enough. It made me wonder if Lan’s ever gonna feel the same. If maybe he already does.—

Alex frowned. Genuinely, deeply frowned.

—Ames, come on. Lando is absolutely gone for you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Not even close.—

—But he hasn’t said anything about the future,— she said, almost in a whisper. —He’s got his life in Monaco, his world, his career. And I don’t know where I fit into that long-term. I love him so much it terrifies me. What if he doesn’t feel that kind of forever with me? What if I’m just… temporary?—

Alex sighed and leaned back against the bench, tilting his head toward the sky like he was searching for patience.

He wished he could tell her the truth. That Lando had been obsessing over how to ask her to move in with him. That he had this stupid, elaborate plan, because he wanted it to be perfect. That he already pictured a life with her. But that was Lando’s secret to tell.

So instead, he settled for the next best thing.

—You know Lan’s not exactly Shakespeare with words, right? But actions? That boy shows you he loves you every single damn day. He’s always looking for you in the crowd. Talks about you even when no one asks. Gets twitchy when you're not around. Hell, he flew across the world after China just to fix things with you, didn’t he?—

Amelie gave a small nod.

—Then trust that. Trust him.—

Before she could respond, the door to the medical center creaked open. Jon peeked his head out, his face tired but calm.

—He’s alright. Banged up, but cleared. You can go in, if you want. He’s asking for you.—

Amelie was on her feet instantly, but she turned to Alex first. Threw her arms around him, squeezing tight.

—Thank you, Alex. Really.—

He smiled, ruffling her hair.

—Go kick his ass for scaring you.—

She took a breath, steeling herself as she walked through the door.

The moment she stepped inside, the sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nose. Her eyes scanned the small, quiet room until they landed on him.

Lando was sitting up on the medical cot, still in his race suit, torso damp with sweat, a white towel hanging around his neck. He looked pale, sore, frustrated—but when his eyes met hers, all that fell away.

—Ames— he breathed.

She didn’t hesitate.

She crossed the room in three long strides and launched herself into his arms, her yellow purse sliding off her shoulder and clattering to the floor.

—Fuck, Lan— she whispered against his neck, voice cracking as her arms wrapped around him tight. —Don’t ever scare me like that again.—

He let out a soft grunt at the impact, muscles tensing with the soreness, but his hands found her waist and pulled her close anyway.

—I’m okay. I’m okay, baby— he murmured, pressing his face into her hair. —I’m sorry.—

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes glassy, but fierce.

—I don’t care about qualifying. I don’t care if you're P10 or last or didn’t even make it. I just... I just care that you’re here. That you’re okay.—

His fingers stroked her back gently, eyes never leaving hers.

—P10’s better than dead, I guess— he tried to joke, but it came out a little strained.

Amelie didn’t laugh.

—I’m serious, Lan. If something had happened to you— She stopped, swallowed hard. —I don’t know what I would’ve done. I don’t even want to think about it.—

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing just under her eye.

—Nothing’s happening to me, Ames. I’m not going anywhere. There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you alone, you hear me?—

She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed for a second. When she opened them again, she managed a tearful smile.

—You always know what to say to stop me from spiraling.—

He smirked, despite the pain on his face.

—It’s part of my boyfriend duties. That and looking ridiculously hot even when I'm sweating my balls off.—

Amelie let out a wet, shaky laugh and smacked his chest gently.

—You’re such a dumbass.—

—Your dumbass— he corrected, grinning.

Her heart swelled. Even broken, bruised, and exhausted, he was still hers.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, soft and lingering.

—I love you, Lando.—

He looked at her like she’d hung the stars.

—I love you more, Amelie.—

And just like that, the panic faded. The noise outside dulled. The weight in her chest lightened.

Because he was okay.

And he was hers.

And no fucking Rodrigo or crash or doubt could change that.

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

liked by lanmelieobsessed, mclarengirlie, and others

f1wagsupdates: Amelie Dayman has officially arrived in Jeddah for race day with Lando Norris! 🏁✨ The Lanmelie power couple is back at it — serving looks and support 🧡💛 Can’t wait to see her in the paddock today! 👏

View all 19,018 comments

lanmelieslay: the queen has landed 😌 all is right in the world → landosimp: @lanmelieslay lando about to drive like his LIFE depends on it

ameliesbabe: if he wins today it’s bc his emotional support girlfriend is there i fear 😭 → wifeyamelie: @ameliesbabe NOT FEAR. it’s science 🔥

landozaddy: lanmelie nation we RISE 🙏🏼🙏🏼

f1teaqueen: someone get security ready bc Lando’s gonna be extra reckless trying to impress her 😭 → lanmelieobsessed: @f1teaqueen my man boutta risk it all in sector 3 😂😂

meliesangel: if there’s a podium today i want them KISSING. i’m not asking. i’m demanding → landomarryher: @meliesangel ON THE PODIUM. FULL SEND.

lanmelieedits: she’s been there all weekend and THIS MAN still drove into a wall 😭😭 → mclarensunshine: @lanmelieedits love makes you DUMB sometimes it’s okay ❤️

lanfan4life: crashed yesterday just to reset and impress her TODAY 🔥📈 real dedication → maxiedefender: @lanfan4life like a lil love-fueled phoenix

mclarengirlie: idc if he starts P10, with Amelie trackside he’s starting from P1 in our hearts → lanmeliefanclub: @mclarengirlie facts.

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

The sun beat down over the Jeddah paddock, the heat clinging to the asphalt as the buzz of Race Day filled the air. Cameras clicked, fans screamed, and media swarmed every corner like bees to honey.

Amelie walked hand-in-hand with Lando, her white dress with delicate blue flowers swaying with every graceful step. Her white heels clicked lightly against the pavement, a little white handbag dangling from her arm. She looked like a fucking dream, and Lando, well, he was trying not to combust beside her.

She squeezed his hand and looked up at him with a small smile, her blonde hair flowing down her back in loose waves. Lando, wearing his crisp McLaren polo and black gym shorts, cap low over his eyes, squeezed her hand back and offered a boyish grin.

They were just trying to get to the McLaren motorhome, minding their business, when the sound of wheels screeching against asphalt caught their attention.

—Oh, fuck— Lando mumbled under his breath, his brown eyes widening slightly as Andrew Wave, the TikTok red carpet guy himself, sprinted over with a bright grin, dramatically rolling out a bright red carpet in front of them like he was announcing royalty.

Amelie immediately started laughing, her free hand flying to her mouth.

—Babe, it's happening— she whispered, excitement dancing in her eyes.

Lando, meanwhile, froze like a deer caught in headlights. Cameras turned, people pointed, phones were whipped out at lightning speed. He squeezed her hand tighter, tugging her subtly to the side.

—Nope. Nope, nope, we’re not doing that— Lando muttered, steering them to bypass the carpet entirely.

Amelie, however, had other plans.

She let go of his hand at the last second, making him stumble a little, and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she stepped right onto the red carpet, striking a playful, over-the-top pageant wave to the imaginary crowd.

—Amelie— Lando hissed, his cheeks visibly flushing even under the brutal Jeddah sun.

Andrew was eating it up, clapping and hyping her up like she was on a Met Gala runway.

—Queen behavior!— Andrew shouted, twirling dramatically.

Amelie turned slightly, catching Lando's eye with a wicked grin, and held out her hand toward him like a Disney princess summoning her prince.

—Come on, Lan— she sing-songed. —Don’t be a pussy.—

A few people around them snickered. Lando looked like he genuinely considered bolting for a second, but then Amelie wiggled her fingers at him, still smiling like the devil herself, and he cursed under his breath.

—You’re gonna be the death of me, Ames— he grumbled, but he finally took her hand.

Amelie beamed like she'd just won a prize at a fair, pulling him onto the carpet beside her. Lando shuffled awkwardly, head ducked low, giving the camera a sheepish thumbs-up while Amelie walked proudly like she was modeling for Dior, dragging him with her.

—Smile for the peasants, babe— Amelie teased under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

—Fuck off— he muttered, but there was no real heat in it. His dimpled grin was peeking out despite himself.

At the end of the carpet, Andrew made a grand, exaggerated bow.

—And they lived happily ever after!— he declared.

Amelie gave another dramatic curtsy in her little dress, earning a wave of laughter from the people nearby. Lando just shook his head, pulling his cap even lower to hide his burning ears.

As they finally made it past the chaos and closer to the McLaren motorhome, Lando tugged her close, wrapping an arm around her waist.

—You’re an evil little shit, you know that?— he said into her ear.

She laughed, turning her head to kiss his cheek.

—You love it— she teased.

—Unfortunately— he said, pretending to groan. —I do. Way too much.—

He gave her a quick squeeze, his hand dangerously low on her waist, making her squeak and swat at him with her handbag.

—Behave, Lan!— she scolded, giggling.

—Make me— he challenged, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

They climbed the steps to the McLaren motorhome, still laughing, completely wrapped up in each other, the chaos of the paddock fading behind them.

Inside, the air conditioning was blissful, and Lando finally pulled off his cap, ruffling his messy curls.

—You’re trouble, Ames— he said, still grinning.

Amelie shrugged innocently, setting her little bag down on a nearby table.

—You knew that when you decided to date me. No take-backs.—

He stepped closer, arms slipping around her waist again, pulling her flush against him.

—Wouldn’t even if I could— he said, his voice softer now, his forehead resting against hers. —You’re stuck with me.—

Her heart squeezed, in that way it always did when he said things like that, like he didn’t even realize how much he meant them. She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, a sweet, lingering kiss that tasted like sunscreen and mint gum.

When they pulled apart, she smirked.

—Even if I make you walk red carpets in the middle of the paddock?—

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

—Especially then— he mumbled against her skin.

She laughed, threading her fingers through his curls.

—I’m gonna be the most annoying WAG ever, just so you know — she said proudly.—

Lando pulled back just enough to look at her, that boyish smile lighting up his whole face.

—Good— he said. —Wouldn’t want it any other way.—

And with that, he kissed her again — this time deeper, slower, like he didn’t give a fuck who might walk in and see.

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

liked by landonorrismyking, f1boystuff, and others

f1wagsupdates: Amelie Dayman is back in the McLaren garage today, cheering on her man Lando during the race! 🧡

View all 39,013 comments

lanmeliefanatic: lando in P10 to P4 with AMELIE by his side?? I’m SCREAMING 😭 → meliesdream: @lanmeliefanatic that’s what happens when you’ve got a love-fueled boost, babes 💥

lanzonmelie: I need Amelie to be the new face of McLaren merch. I’m manifesting it. 🔥

f1boystuff: he crashed in qualifying, finished P4, and STILL got the kiss of victory from Amelie. KING 👑 → lanfanfromhell: @f1boystuff and she was smiling at him like "good boy" 🐾

landosmymuse: i love that she’s been there through it all. queen of supporting her man 🧡👑 → meliesdream: @landosmymuse not just supporting — empowering 💪🏼💛

meliesgirl: he climbed from P10 to P4 and now I'm convinced Amelie’s love is literal rocket fuel 🚀

lanmelie_obsessed: @lanmelie_obsessed THE way he climbed from P10 to 4th with her there? Love her power 🧡💅 → daymanforyou: I swear Amelie’s presence gives him superpowers at this point 💀💀

lanmelieforeverrr: she’s basically the McLaren pit crew at this point, watching him so close 🏎️🔥 → landonorrismyking: @lanmelieforeverrr she’s giving superwoman vibes today 😩

speedinglanmelie: They’re literally the definition of “teamwork makes the dream work” 🧡💪 → melie4life: @speedinglanmelie lando’s dream is that she’s always there to cheer him on. too cute. 🥺

loveforlanmelie: how can someone look so hot while just watching a race? she's a queen 👑

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

The sun was setting over the Jeddah skyline, casting long shadows across the paddock as the last cars rolled in from the race. Despite the rocky start to the weekend, Lando had pulled off an impressive recovery, finishing in 4th place after a series of well-executed overtakes and strategic pit stops. The crowd had cheered as he crossed the line, and even though he hadn’t reached the podium, it was clear that he’d given everything out there. His determination had been nothing short of impressive.

Back in the hospitality lounge, the air was buzzing with chatter and laughter, a stark contrast to the tense energy of the track. Amelie sat at a small table, her heels resting on the floor beneath her as she leaned back in her chair, a glass of water in front of her. Across from her were Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, and Rebecca, Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend. They were all relaxed after the race, swapping stories and gossiping about the usual things—driver drama, silly moments in the paddock, and the chaos of race weekends.

—Honestly, I don’t know how they do it,— Amelie said, shaking her head, half-laughing. —The amount of mental gymnastics they go through just to get through a weekend, it’s insane.—

Rebecca smirked. —Tell me about it. Carlos is always complaining about how much energy it takes out of him. But it’s cute—he tries to hide it when I bring him lunch or snacks. Like I don’t know what’s going on inside his head.—

Amelie rolled her eyes with a grin. —Lando’s the same. He’ll get all grumpy after a race and say he’s fine, but he really just needs a nap and some food.—

The two girls giggled, comfortable in the familiarity of the conversation. It was easy to be around them—there was no pretense, just a few friends swapping stories about the men they loved. Amelie always appreciated these moments.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, with occasional bursts of laughter filling the space around them. Amelie could feel the warmth of the friendship between them, and for a moment, it almost felt like the chaos of the weekend had melted away. The camaraderie was comforting, and she allowed herself to relax in the familiar setting.

—And you know what the worst part is?— Amelie added with a playful smirk. —They’ll pretend like they don’t need anything. But we all know that’s total bullshit. They’re all so dramatic.—

Rebecca laughed, her eyes bright. —Oh, you have no idea. It’s like... one minute, Carlos is all moody, then the next, he’s asking for a snack as if he hasn’t eaten in days. But then, when I make him something, it’s like I’ve solved all the world’s problems for him.—

Amelie leaned back in her chair, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. —Lando’s worse. He’ll just refuse to ask for anything. I’ll literally have to drag him out of the car or the motorhome to make him take a break. And then, when I give him a sandwich or something, he acts like I just handed him a five-star meal.—

The easy banter continued, the kind of light-hearted moments that made Amelie feel at home in the paddock. But even as she laughed, she couldn’t help but notice the nagging thought at the back of her mind. Lando had been amazing during the race, and there was no question that he had the skill, the drive, and the heart of a champion. Yet, as much as they had progressed, there was still this quiet uncertainty in the air about where their relationship was headed.

And that was exactly when Rebecca’s departure shifted the atmosphere. Carlos had appeared, all smiles, coming to collect his girlfriend for their departure. He leaned over, kissing Rebecca on the cheek and giving Amelie and Alex a friendly nod.

—Ready to go, babe?— Carlos asked, clearly in the mood to leave.

Rebecca smiled, giving a small wave to Amelie and Alex. —You girls take care. I’ll see you in Miami.—

Amelie waved back. —See you.—

The minute Rebecca left, the table felt quieter. It was just Alex and Amelie now, two women who had always shared a deep understanding of the unique chaos that came with being in relationships with F1 drivers.

Alex took a sip of her water, then turned her attention fully to Amelie, the smile on her face softening just a little. There was a certain way Alex looked at her that made Amelie tense slightly, as if she could see right through her.

—So…— Alex began, her voice light but with a touch of curiosity. —What’s your plan with Lando this week? I know you're heading to Los Angeles for Euphoria, but have you two talked about what comes after that? You know… like your future?—

Amelie froze for just a moment, caught off guard by the directness of Alex’s question. She swallowed hard, keeping her face neutral, but she felt her chest tighten. Alex, always perceptive, had a way of asking just the right questions that made Amelie feel exposed. She could feel her stomach churn uncomfortably, and for a second, she debated whether she should lie or just brush it off.

But there was something in the way Alex looked at her that made it hard to do either.

—We’ve talked a bit about it,— Amelie replied, her voice sounding far steadier than she felt. —But not much. I don’t know... I guess we’re just trying to figure things out, you know?— She fidgeted with her water glass, not meeting Alex's gaze directly.

—You’re not fooling anyone, Ames,— Alex said softly, her tone both teasing and understanding. —I can tell when you're avoiding something. And you’re definitely avoiding this.—

Amelie bit her lip, trying to control the fluttering feeling in her chest. Alex wasn’t wrong. She had been avoiding the thought of what came next for her and Lando, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure herself. Everything between them had always felt so natural, so easy, but as time passed, the questions about their future kept creeping into her mind, making her question whether they were truly on the same page.

—It’s just...— Amelie started, her voice trailing off. She paused, trying to find the right words. —I think we’re good right now, y’know? We’ve been through a lot to get here, and I don’t want to rush anything. But, I also feel like... I don’t know. Maybe we’re just sort of stuck in this in-between place, and it’s hard to figure out what we’re supposed to do next.—

Alex nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she leaned back in her chair. —I get it, I really do. Relationships like this aren’t easy, especially when you’ve been through as much as you two have. But, and I’m not saying this to rush you or anything, have you thought about what you want, Ames? Not what Lando wants, but what you want?—

Amelie blinked, taken aback by the directness of Alex’s words. —What I want?—

—Yeah. You’re always thinking about Lando, but where do you see this going? What do you want? Do you want more? Do you want to move in with him? Or are you happy with the way things are?— Alex leaned forward slightly, her eyes serious now. —I know you’re scared, but sometimes, it’s not just about what Lando wants. It’s about you too. You deserve that, Ames. You deserve to ask for what you need, and you deserve to know what you want.—

Amelie felt a lump form in her throat, her heart racing. She wanted to say something, anything, but her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The idea of moving forward with Lando, of taking that next step, had always scared her. She had been so focused on the present—on the love they had and the way they made each other feel—that she hadn’t really stopped to think about the future. What did she want? Was she ready for that next step?

—Alex, I...— Amelie started, but she was interrupted by a voice behind her.

—Am I interrupting something?—

She turned around to see Lando standing there, his familiar grin plastered across his face. He had just finished his media duties and debriefing, and despite his usual relaxed demeanor, there was something in his eyes that made Amelie’s heart skip a beat. She was almost relieved to see him, yet at the same time, she felt exposed, like she’d been caught mid-thought.

Amelie quickly straightened up, her heart racing as she glanced at Alex, who shot her a teasing but understanding look. The tension between the two of them dissipated just as quickly as it had built up, and Alex’s expression softened as she offered Lando a smile.

—Nah, just talking about race day stuff, you know,— Alex said casually, lifting her glass to take a sip of water. —Nothing exciting.—

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the change in the air. He gave Amelie a quick, questioning glance before leaning in, dropping a soft kiss to her cheek. —Hey, babe. How’d your race day go?— he asked, his voice low and affectionate.

Amelie gave him a smile, feeling her shoulders relax. —It was good. Just a lot of energy buzzing around today, you know? How about you? You looked like you gave it your all out there.—

Lando gave a small shrug, though the faint hint of a proud smile tugged at his lips. —Yeah, I did. It wasn’t the podium, but I’ll take it. Fourth place... better than where I started.— He glanced over at Alex, then back at Amelie, a slight frown appearing on his face. —You two didn’t get into any trouble while I was gone, right?—

Alex chuckled. —Trouble? With us? Never.— She shot Amelie a wink, and Amelie had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

—No, we’ve just been chatting, nothing major,— Amelie added quickly, her cheeks feeling a little warm from the close attention Lando was giving her. She could feel his gaze on her, as if he was trying to read her, and it made her nervous in a way that she didn’t entirely understand.

After a few more moments of light conversation, it was time for Alex to say goodbye. —Alright, I’m off. You two have fun. And, see you in Miami, beauty,— Alex said with a wink, waving goodbye before walking off with a friendly wave.

Amelie watched her go, feeling the shift in the atmosphere once again. With Alex gone, it was just her and Lando, and she could feel the tension creeping back in.

Lando turned to her, his hands sliding into his pockets as he gave her a soft smile. —So... what were you two talking about? You were acting all serious and quiet when I walked up.—

Amelie bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. —We were just... talking about stuff. Nothing big. Just about the future, y’know?— She kept her tone light, but there was a flicker of something deeper behind her words.

Lando’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press further. —Right. Well, I’m glad you two had a chance to catch up. It’s always good to talk things out.—

Amelie gave Lando a soft smile, her heart still heavy with the weight of the conversation she’d just had with Alex. She kissed him gently on the cheek, lingering for just a moment longer than usual, as if the kiss itself could quiet the storm brewing in her mind. When she pulled away, she looked up at him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

—Ready to go, babe?— she asked, her voice light, though there was a hint of something unspoken hanging between them.

Lando nodded, brushing a hand through his hair as he grinned back at her, a mixture of exhaustion and contentment in his gaze. —Yeah, let's get out of here. You hungry? We could grab some dinner on the way to the hotel.—

—Sure, sounds good,— Amelie replied, but inside, her thoughts were far from food. They walked out of the paddock together, side by side, the crowds thinning as the evening settled in. The evening air felt warm against her skin, and yet, everything felt distant, like she was walking in a fog.

They reached the car, and as Lando held the door open for her, she slipped inside, giving him one last lingering look before he slid into the seat next to her. They both stared out the window for a moment, neither one saying anything as the silence stretched between them. Amelie could feel the pull of the conversation with Alex hanging over her, making her stomach churn with a mix of unease and anticipation.

When they arrived at the hotel, Lando’s arm naturally wrapped around her shoulders as they walked in, the familiar comfort of his presence soothing the nerves that had been building inside her all evening. But as much as she craved the comfort, she knew something needed to change. She couldn’t keep avoiding the question of what they were doing, where they were going.

As they reached their room, Lando opened the door, and Amelie stepped inside first, setting her bag down on the table. She turned to face him, her heart racing as she finally gathered the courage to speak, though the words didn’t come just yet.

Lando closed the door behind him, his eyes meeting hers. —You okay? You’ve been kinda quiet since we left the paddock. Did something happen with Alex?—

Amelie hesitated, her lips parting to say something, but no words came. Instead, she gave him a soft smile, one that was a little more genuine than the one she’d given him earlier.

—Yeah... just tired. I’ll be fine, Lan,— she said softly, brushing past him to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Lando watched her for a moment, clearly sensing there was more to it, but instead of pushing, he simply walked over and sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. —If you wanna talk, I’m here. I mean it, Ames.—

She leaned into him for a moment, taking comfort in his warmth, but her mind was still swirling. She needed to figure this out, to know what she truly wanted before she could share it with him. But for now, all she could do was lean into him and let the world fade away, even if only for a moment.

[destielrotsmybrain]

All this talk about Dean's hell trauma has stirred up thoughts.

For the audience (and everyone in-universe) it was months. But for Dean it was 40 years! And I think that gets lost.

Even if it was 40 normal years (and it absolutely wasn't) thats a hell of a disconnect for him. For Dean the events of seasons 1-3 were 40 years ago. 40 more years since John died, since the Stanford drama and he's had a lot of stuff going on that makes all that less dramatic.

He has 40 years of distance from those events and I think that people miss that. I see it in time travel fic that people accept that a Dean from the future has come to terms with John's death (or whatever incident they are talking about) because he's had the time to deal with it, but I've never seen that principle applied to Dean's time in hell

[babyblankyerror]

The mental image I have of this of Stan just trying to nab chocolate from the air whilenkne hand is missing through a portal, awkwardly bumping into walls like the DVD sign. Meanwhile Ford is SHOOK.

OOOH! YES! I like to think no kne has any idea that Stan can do this and they just accept it as part of Gravity Falls until the mystery twins come along to discover what's causing gravity to...fall. is it the town's name?

The mystery shack gaining things from other dimensions is such a fun concept! Especially if they're all mislabelled!

Ford, looking at some sort of weapon: Stanley that's...that's not a spinning-bazoo. Whatever that is... that's a-

Stan: I know

Ford: ...

Stan: ...

Ford slowly coming to the realization that Stan had just assumed he had super powers (because why wouldn't he) and has been blaming himself for years :'c

OH!! SO COOL! The longer Stan spends near the portal the more powers and he gets frustrated when they don't work because he knows they should be stronger! He knows because he sent his brother through the portal!

Funnily enough if he hadn't assumed he was the one who sent Ford through the portal then he would have no reason to practice and probably wouldn't find out until some major event.

@maggotpoolautism tags:

Imagining this-

Stan is hopeless, he is panicking because he doesn't know Ford's coordinates, gravity seems to be increasing which makes it harder to breathe.

Then he says "FUCK IT" and just starts sending supplies to random dimensions hoping Ford gets it so in many dimensions myths, legends, cryptic stories start of a random hand blessing / cursing people. It'd be really fucking hilarious if Stan somehow gives water to a population that doesn't have any and his hand becomes some sort of religion to that alien species.

Eventually he learns Ford's coordinates but he's always moving so it's hard to track and ot NEVER crosses his mind to let him know it's him. Like yeah- he'll write a note "what do you need" or "be careful" but never mentions his name or that it's him.

Ford is just receiving existential and cryptic messages and assumes the hand is normal- What does he need? Ah yes, that is a good question...perhaps knowledge hadn't been the answer but family (Stanley is asking what materials he needs). Be careful? What is the hand warning about? Perhaps it is foretelling some near in the future danger (Stan is just worried)!

Even easy notes like "Food?" Ford either feeds the hand which confuses Stan or he's like "Ah yes, the knowledge is the food for the brain" (he is reading at the moment)

Stanford is sent through the portal, meanwhile Stanley gets some mutant powers from the portal.

Why? Because shit sounds like something out of a marvel comic, COME ON!

[cheftsunoda]

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

part two

smau + real life

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

part one here

fc : tyla

tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg , @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 , @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi , @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505, @hc-dutch

—

ayanaaa

liked by sza, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc & 7,594,375 others.

ayanaaa : countin my blessings twice as much

username : you and sza been in the stu recently?

ayanaaa : obvvv- we abt to deliver album of the year

liked by sza

sza : album of the century mamas

liked by author

kikagomes : ^^ can't even begin to explain how excited i am for this album

liked by author and sza

alexandrasaintmleux : ^^same

liked by author and sza

ayanaaa : i vote for wag listening party

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and lilyzneimer

charles_leclerc : what about me

lando : i have fomo

georgerussell63 : bless my ears please

scuderiaferrari : are we invited?

sza : girls onlyyyy sorry

liked by author, alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and lilyzneimer

lewishamilton : are big brothers allowed?

ayanaaa : possibly...and admin you are invited !!

scuderiaferrari : best day of my life

usermame2: sza and that damn bug mask

liked by author

ayanaaa : she won't take it off...she was just casually sitting in my apartment with it on and scared the living shit out of me

liked by sza

sza : im instilling survival skills in you

liked by author

username8: there is a man- this album will be V E R Y good

f1 : Paddock appearance soon??

liked by author

ayanaaa : sooner than you think ;)

ayanaaa : and merc admin wherever you are - you have a soft spot in my heart so you're invited too

liked by lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 : hold on im fangirling

—

This event was supposed to be chill.

That’s what I told myself as I checked my mic backstage, adjusting the sleeves of my oversize blazer. The event was part of a music and innovation summit — nothing too flashy. Just a casual Q&A with some of the industry’s top producers. I was there to talk about the future of sound design.

Then Max walked in.

My heart stopped like a needle scratching off a record. He looked unfairly good in that fitted black polo and jeans, hair still slightly messy like he’d just run a hand through it on the way over. He wasn’t even looking for me — he was talking to someone from TAG Heuer, who happened to sponsor this event and is a major sponsor for...Redbull.

I ducked behind a speaker, hissing into my mic pack like it was going to help. “Solana. Emergency.”

Solana, who was currently sipping a matcha backstage and doing her best “I’m not famous today” routine, poked her head out. “What’s the—oh. Ohhh.”

“Why is he here?” I whispered.

“I dunno, babe, maybe fate? Karma? F1’s brutal PR schedule?” she shrugged. “Also, why does he look like that? Like he just stepped off a runway-slash-motorcycle ad?”

“Sol!”

“Okay, okay.” She cleared her throat and straightened. “It’s fine. Just pretend you don’t know him. Like a normal ex—wait, no. Current. Very-secret-husband thing. Right. I got this.”

We both peeked around the corner just in time to see Max spot me.

And smirk.

The moderator opened the floor to audience questions.

And Max’s hand shot up.

My stomach dropped. Solana, seated next to him, physically grabbed his arm and pulled it down. “Nope. Nope,” she said under her breath, but the moderator had already called on him.

“Yes, you—front row in the black shirt.”

Max stood. “Hi. Max Verstappen. Big fan of your work,” he said, eyes locked on me.

I blinked. “Hi… Max.” My voice cracked like a teenager’s. “Thanks. Um. Likewise.”

“Just wondering,” he said, somehow managing to keep a straight face, “how you balance creative expression with, you know, maintaining… discretion in your personal life.”

I almost choked on my water.

Solana let out a sound that was either a laugh or a cough — no one knew, not even her.

I narrowed my eyes at Max and leaned into the mic. “Well, when you’re married to your work, discretion kind of comes with the job.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly biting back a grin. “Right. Of course.”

After the panel ended and the crowd dispersed, I slipped backstage, fully ready to tackle him. But he was already waiting.

“That was a great answer,” he said, stepping into my space with that low, smug confidence that made me weak and annoyed all at once. “Very subtle. Especially the whole ‘married to your work’ bit.”

“You are such a menace,” I whispered, poking him in the chest.

He caught my hand and kissed my knuckles, totally unbothered. “I missed you.”

Before I could reply, Solana stormed in, waving her phone. “Okay, fun update — Twitter thinks you two made eye contact for too long, and now there’s a whole thread analyzing your body language.”

Max looked pleased. “Was it a good thread?”

“No!” she groaned. “You two are a disaster.”

I sighed and leaned into Max’s shoulder, hiding my smile.

Maybe. But we were a disaster in love.

And somehow, against all odds, still undiscovered.

For now.

—

f1gossipgirls

28,367 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Ayana Hamilton was a special guest at a recent event for music innovation that was hosted by Tag Heuer, a sponsor of Redbull Racing. Max Verstappen was also present due to contract obligations and asked Ayana how she dealt with work life balance— the two shared quite a lot of eye contact and user f1girllyyy on twitter analyzed the two’s body language throughout the event! let us know what you think about these two!

—

username : oh i never ever thought of this couple but i ship it so hard

username2 : guys they don’t even follow each other on ig 😭

username4 : max even introduced himself like they had never met before

username8 : they’d be so damn cute together

username10 : I don’t see lewis ever letting this happen

usernameee : yall are reading wayyyy too deep into this — it was like a 20 second interaction

username1 : he was lowkey probably just teasing her bc she is Lewis’ sister

usernameeee : side note she is SNATCHED

—

alexandrasaintmleux posted to her story!

seen by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, ayanaaa & 256,368 others.

charles_leclerc : pls stop rubbing it in

alexandrasaintmleux: sorry mon amor😁

—

The loft smelled like vanilla candles, takeout sushi, and just a hint of fresh vinyl. Solana and I had spent all day setting up for this — pillows fluffed, drinks on ice, and the speakers queued up with our joint project: an album we’d spent the better part of six months pouring our hearts into.

Tonight wasn’t about promo. It was about celebration — girlhood, music, and champagne in real glasses. Our favorite kind of night.

Carmen was the first to arrive, hair effortlessly slicked back and hugging me like we were old friends — which we kind of were at this point. Lily showed up right behind her, carrying cupcakes. “I couldn’t show up empty-handed. You know my brand,” she joked.

Then came Alex and Kika, both looking straight off the cover of Vogue, laughing about something that had happened at a shoot the day before. Kika pulled me in for a tight hug. “So proud of you, babe. I’ve been counting down for this.”

Solana popped a bottle in the kitchen. “This isn’t just a listening party — it’s a vibe. A ritual. A girls’ night only.”

We all cheered and clinked glasses.

As the first track played — a sultry, layered intro with a slow-burn beat and the kind of harmonies only Solana and I could stack — the room went quiet in that sacred way music sometimes demands. Heads nodded, eyes closed, a few quiet “oh my Gods” murmured between verses.

“This is crazy,” Alex whispered, reaching for her phone like she needed to write the lyrics down immediately.

“I feel like I’m floating,” Lily said, curled up on the arm of the couch. “Like… this is what silk sounds like.”

“Y’all,” Carmen added, “track three made me want to text an ex and delete it in the same breath.”

We were halfway through track five when we heard the sound.

Keys. In the door.

Solana froze mid-sip. “Wait. Did you give anyone else the code?”

Before I could answer, the front door opened — and in walked Lewis.

Wearing sweats. Holding a Tupperware of something suspiciously healthy. Completely aware of the very curated girlhood bubble he’d just walked into.

Everyone turned.

He blinked. “Hello Ladies.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kika leaned over and whispered to Lily, “That’s your cue to hide the tequila.”

Solana narrowed her eyes. “Lewis. This is a girls-only space. Read the vibes.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I brought protein brownies?”

Another beat.

Then Carmen shrugged. “Okay, he can stay.”

I gave him the death glare I usually reserved for nosy journalists. “You’re so lucky these girls like you.”

Lewis flopped onto the floor with a grin and popped a brownie into his mouth. “What can I say? I bring the snacks.”

The next track rolled in — the one I was most nervous about. A little more vulnerable. A little more me. The one Max had quietly helped me produce in our home studio on a rainy Tuesday, layered with sounds he’d chosen just for me. The lyrics that he very clearly inspired. My heartbeat picked up as it played.

Lewis nodded slowly. “Yo… this one’s special.”

Solana caught my eye and smirked, clearly knowing who inspired it. I bit my lip to keep from smiling too much.

The girls, now sprawled across the floor with wine and throw blankets, were lost in it. And I realized something.

This was the kind of moment you didn’t plan for — the kind that just happened. Messy, loud, emotional. Full of secrets and sound.

Exactly like me.

Exactly like us.

—

The party had trickled into soft goodbyes and sleepy hugs. One by one, the girls had slipped out — Kika stealing another cupcake for the road, Carmen promising a playlist trade, and Solana leaving to go meet with someone she probably should not.

I was curled up on the couch, hoodie now half-zipped, when Lewis came back from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea.

“I made that weird ginger-honey stuff you like,” he said, handing one to me.

“Look at you,” I teased, “embracing your inner wellness girl.”

He chuckled, settling into the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and socked feet poking near mine. For a moment, it was quiet — the kind of stillness that comes after something really good. Or something really real.

Then he said it.

“That track. The one after the interlude. The one with the synths layered under your vocals?”

I glanced at him over my mug, heart skipping. “Yeah?”

“Who’s it about?”

I blinked. “What?”

He gave me a look. Not pushy, but curious. Brother-level curious. Protective-level curious. “You wrote that about someone. I know that tone. It’s not just vibes and metaphors — that one’s personal.”

I laughed a little too quickly. “You think everything has a hidden meaning.”

“Because in your songs, it always does,” he said, leaning forward. “It’s not just the lyrics. It’s the way you sing them. Like… I dunno. Like your heart’s right there in the booth.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the mug.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he added, voice softer now. “I’m not trying to pry. Just… whoever he is, sounds like he means a lot to you.”

He doesn’t know.

He really doesn’t know.

But my throat is thick and there’s this stupid, overwhelming warmth in my chest, because it’s Lewis. My brother. And even without the full truth, he sees me. He always has.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my eyes on the tea. “He does.”

Lewis nods slowly, a quiet little smile tugging at his mouth. “Well… he better treat you like gold. Or I’ll have to start asking questions.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking now. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

We sit in silence a little longer. Outside, the city is humming. Inside, the track is still looping quietly in my head — the one Max helped me finish, without ever needing to sign his name to it.

I glance at Lewis again, this time grateful he hasn’t pieced the puzzle together. Not yet.

Some secrets deserve a little more time.

—

The apartment was still.

Late afternoon light poured through the tall windows, casting warm, honey-gold streaks across the hardwood floors. I was curled in the studio nook, legs crossed under me on the swivel chair, laptop open, final mix exported. I’d been sitting on this track for a while now — too long, maybe. Part fear, part nerves.

Max was in the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless, humming off-key as he made tea. I hadn’t told him I was going to play it.

I just… hit spacebar.

The song started.

That slow build. The synths we’d layered together. The crackle of vintage tape I’d added without telling him — the same sound from the first night we ever stayed in, rain falling outside, him humming under his breath while I tweaked knobs on my sampler.

He stilled.

Didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. Just listened.

And then my voice came in.

Soft. Honest. No layers this time. Just me.

I watched him slowly put the mug down on the counter.

His shoulders rose, then fell — like he was breathing through something he hadn’t expected to feel.

By the time the chorus hit — that surge of melody, that ache I hadn’t been able to explain when I first wrote it — he turned around.

His eyes were a little glassy.

“You finished it,” he said, voice low.

“Yeah.”

His eyes searched mine, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask what it meant — even though I knew he already knew.

“You used that sound from that night… the rain,” he added softly.

“I wanted it to sound like home,” I said.

He crossed the room in a few strides and stood in front of me, silent for a long second before reaching out — fingertips gentle under my chin, tilting my face up toward his.

“This is about us,” he whispered.

I nodded. “Every word.”

He kissed me like he didn’t know what else to do. Like music had said the part his voice couldn’t. Like he’d just fallen in love with me all over again, even though we were already too far in to fall any further.

When we pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.

“Can I be cheesy for one second?”

I smiled. “Only if you’re really committed.”

“I never thought I’d be someone’s favorite song,” he said. “But you just made me one.”

—

p2 finished! let me know what you guys think and as always requests are open:)

[goldensunset]

i’m normal. i’m sooooo normal about xehanort being doomed from the start. about how his lifetime is a closed timeloop and his future self set him off on the path of evil back when he was still young and innocent. reeeeeal normal. i also hate kingdom hearts dark road so much (positive) it’s my best friend (i bear the curse)

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell Sequel 01 - Fan Translation

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this fan translation, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

In the neutral country of Jade, there was a useless prince with boundless kindness.

~Flashback~

Keith: "I'm not the kind of person you should worry about. I can't do anything, and I do terrible things without hesitation."

Keith: "Yet, here I am, still smiling."

Keith: "So you shouldn't get involved with me."

Alter!Keith: "Your words can be both poison and medicine to him."

Alter!Keith: "Emma, please kill the useless one."

~Flashback~

The cruel tragedy that struck him birthed an "alternate personality" and turned him into a beast. Haunted by the past, fearing an uncontrollable self, he continued to wish for a living death. The one who brought forth the heart of the beast sinking into the abyss was the only one with the most beautiful heart in Rhodolite—her.

Emma: "…It seems that when it comes to Keith, I become desperate to the point of not seeing anything around me."

Emma: "When I think I don't want to lose Keith, I can't think about anything else…"

Emma: "He's so important to me that I would do anything to not lose him."

She accepted the two personalities, and true love kept both beasts alive.

Keith: "I can't give you normal love. Still, I don't want to let go of your hand. I only want to love you."

Emma: "……………Then, please love me a lot."

Emma: "I will love both sides of Keith with all my heart!"

To make the flower called "happiness" bloom throughout the country, the prince with boundless kindness will protect the country's future.

As time passes, the love between the three deepens.

However, it remains a distorted and abnormal love.

The more happiness they have, the more the balance of their hearts, which seemed stable, secretly tilted.

~Timeshift~

Keith: "…"

The pounding rain soaked him completely and chilled him to the core. The golden eyes peeking through heavy bangs quietly gaze at the person who has been carelessly discarded.

A familiar-shaped ring was fitted on his ring finger.

Kagari: "Keith."

The man with fiery red hair, who appeared silently, followed Keith's gaze.

Kagari: "Have you lost something important again?"

Kagari: "Or is this your first time?"

~Timeshift~

Liam: "Ah…"

Keith: "She's fast asleep, so it's okay."

Keith: "Thank you for the documents. Just leave them there."

Liam quietly closed the room door and placed the documents on the table in front of the sofa where Keith and the other person were sitting.

Naturally, his gaze fell on Emma, who was comfortably sleeping with her head resting on Keith's shoulder. The book on her lap was open, filled with densely written words.

Liam: "Are you studying the history of various countries after practicing archery? As always, Lady Emma is powerful."

Keith: "She’s cute, isn’t she?"

Liam: "Eh? Yes, I guess so...?"

Liam: "I sometimes worry if I'm speaking the same language as you, Keith."

Suddenly showered with affection, Liam looked around the room in astonishment.

—Wanting a room with Emma, he decided to expand.

This spacious room was born from that sentiment

With large windows that let in plenty of sunlight, a large bookshelf that the two book lovers were quite satisfied with, decorative plants that offer healing, and a fluffy sofa with adorable, differently colored deer-pattern cushions.

Although not much time had passed, the room was steadily being filled in by the two—no, the three of them.

Liam: "That's right, she started seriously learning archery after coming to Jade, didn’t she?"

Keith: "Yeah. I haven't heard the reason, but she told me she wanted to learn after the tea party with my sister (Mireille)."

Liam: "It might be because Prince Keith’s mother and Lady Mireille are known archers."

Keith: "Also, maybe she just genuinely wanted to learn a way to protect herself."

Keith: "…Emma wants to protect things together rather than just be protected."

Liam: "Truly powerful indeed."

Keith: "Oh, today's practice was amazing! She hit the target's center in a row, and even when she missed, it was only a few millimeters off."

Keith: "I'm just so happy to see her results reflecting her effort, it feels like my own achievement."

Liam: "That's a delightful thing, but your excitement is making your voice louder."

With his index finger raised in front of his mouth, Liam indicated for Keith to be quiet, and Keith hurriedly covered his mouth, wanting to say that he had made a mistake.

Perhaps because she had entered a deep sleep, Emma still wore a peaceful expression on her face.

Keith: "After she asked me to teach her archery, I was quite happy."

Keith: "After all, I want to be asked a lot of things by the person I love."

Keith: "I need to properly thank my mother for patiently guiding me when I was a clumsy child."

Liam: "Speaking of your mother, I’ve heard that sometimes during their couple fights, arrows would fly from the king's room."

Keith: "Ah… She was generally easygoing and rarely got angry."

Keith: "But without discussion, the king would counter with a sword, so it always escalated. He always ended up being the one to back down."

Liam: "That's the weakness that comes with being in love."

Liam: "I saw that you also showed off by hitting the target multiple times, taking advantage of Lady Emma's request."

Keith lightly cleared his throat, diverting his gaze.

Keith: "I think… what I did was very immature."

Keith: "But the way Emma was so excited at that time was so cute that I’d want to capture it in a painting."

Liam: "…Are you bragging again?"

Emma: "Mmm…"

Keith and Liam: "!"

The two instantly closed their mouths at the faint sound they heard.

Emma shifted and snuggled even closer against Keith.

Emma: “...Keith.”

Keith: “...!”

The name that spilled from her lips made his large body shiver faintly with joy.

As if to say "Did you hear that?", Keith shot a glance at Liam.

Liam: “Please don’t look this way. Also, you look rather foolish with that face.”

Keith: “S-sorry, but Emma said my name in her sleep.”

Keith: “Maybe, even in her dreams, I'm right next to her, just like this…”

Keith: “...No, I can’t go back now. It seems I’m going to be grinning all day.”

Liam: “How pitiful…”

His large hand enveloped her delicate one, intertwining their fingers. Keith gently tilted his head toward Emma, savoring the happiness. The comforting silence filled the room along with the warm breeze coming through the window.

Although incredulous, Liam smiled at the sight of the two.

Liam: “It’s a well-known fact that the future king and queen are affectionate with each other. They are called the healing couple.”

Liam: “Their efforts to improve the country are met with great trust from the citizens.”

Keith: “Healing couple... I feel a bit embarrassed to be called that.”

After smiling gently, Keith looked down as if reminiscing about distant days.

Keith: “Being a person who has never been able to believe in myself, I was very anxious and feared trusting others.”

Keith: “But now it’s different. For the better future of the country and for peace, I want to look forward and respond to this belief.”

Liam: “You’ve changed.”

Keith: “It’s because Emma has accepted this ‘me’ straight on.”

Liam: “That ‘me’ doesn’t seem to improve much, though.”

Keith: “Ah... I’m glad she’s sleeping.”

Keith: “...”

Once again, silence returned.

However, this time it bore a hint of sadness... Realizing what that meant, Liam furrowed his brows.

Keith: “Sorry for worrying you. I want to correct the habit of it showing on my face.”

Liam: “Has it gotten worse?”

Keith: “Just a little. The time has lengthened.”

Liam: “About that…”

Keith: “It seems like there’s no problem for now. Maybe...”

Liam: “If only I could understand the reason…”

Keith: “...”

Liam: “Prince Keith?”

Keith: “No, it’s nothing. I should refrain from speculating."

Keith: “Right. About today’s scheduled diplomatic meeting, I want you to come along.”

Liam: “Of course. I have no reason to refuse.”

Keith: “Thank you. I know I can rely on you.”

Keith: “...I still wish that you wouldn’t notice, but that hasn’t changed since the old days.”

He gently tightened his grip on their intertwined hands. In his golden eyes, filled with affection, there flickered a hint of hesitation.

(This is...?)

On one afternoon—

The greenhouse that I entered escorted by Prince Keith was filled with a sweet aroma different from that of floral nectar.

Steam rose from the cups of tea on the table, which was crowded with flower-shaped cakes and baked goods.

(I didn’t think we had made plans for a tea party...)

Looking up at Keith with a questioning expression, he returned my gaze with a serene expression.

Keith: “I heard it from the head of the royal pharmacy (Yuel), and I couldn’t stay still.”

(Yuel... ah)

Keith: “Congratulations on passing the herbalist promotion exam.”

Emma: “Thank you!”

Emma: “I just received the acceptance letter a moment ago, so I was surprised.”

Keith: “I found out last night.”

(What a surprise! And yet, he prepared such a wonderful celebration...)

As my lips curled into a smile, Keith’s eyes softened too, and warmth filled my chest even more.

(The trigger was seeing Prince Keith talk vibrantly about the plants...)

(With my desire to “be of help” added to that, I got the chance to be recognized for my growth.)

(Along with learning lessons as a queen, I want to continue studying as an herbalist and absorb knowledge,)

(I want to become someone who supports the country.)

Noticing that Prince Keith’s expression had turned thoughtful, I tilted my head.

Keith: “The celebration isn’t enough.”

Emma: “!? That’s not true. If anything, I’ve received more than enough!”

Keith: “If that’s the case—... no, wait.”

(It feels like his eyes are saying "I won't concede.")

I always think that the reasons for Prince Keith's stubbornness are made up of kindness and cuteness.

(If the celebration isn’t enough...)

Emma: “Well then, may I make a request?”

Keith: “Of course! Please say anything.”

Which option will you choose?

Point to your own cheek.

Open your arms wide.

Indicate the cake you want to eat.

Emma: “Keith, I want to eat this tart first.”

I pointed to the plate with a tart topped with juicy fruits.

Keith nodded and seated me in a chair, then served the tart onto a separate plate as I requested...

Keith: "Here you go, Emma. Open your mouth?"

Emma: “Huh...?”

Keith: “Eh...?”

Keith: “Oh... Did I make a huge mistake...?”

(When you cant even just let them eat cake)

Emma: “No, it's just as I requested. I’ll eat it!”

I took the bite-sized tart he offered and popped it into my mouth.

Keith smiled as brightly as a blooming flower and cheerfully began to cut a second piece.

(What I really wanted to request was for him to serve the cake... but somehow, I feel like I’m gaining so much.)

I silently expressed my gratitude to Keith.

More than the sweet and sour fruitiness and the crispy texture, the smile of my beloved made me happy.

After thoroughly enjoying the celebratory tea party, I strolled through the greenhouse with Keith, admiring the colorful flowers.

As the time for public duties approached, a sense of sadness welled up at the thought of parting again, when I was suddenly called by name.

Looking up, I met Keith’s gaze, which was serious this time.

His face belonged not to my fiancé, but rather to the next king bearing the weight of the nation...

Keith: "Actually, Kagari-san..."

Keith: "I received an invitation to a friendship meeting from Prince Kagari Amagase of the Kougyoku (Ruby) Kingdom."

Emma: "At this time of year?"

Keith: "Yes, and that’s why I have many concerns about it."

A short while ago—

Information of significant importance had reached Jade that the three countries of Tanzanite, Achroite, and Kougyoku had formed an alliance, potentially disrupting the balance of power on the continent.

The three countries weren't historically close, nor was there any record of significant interaction between them.

The reason for forming the alliance is unclear, with no clues as to why this would happen.

Receiving an invitation to a friendship meeting from Ruby during such a time must mean there’s some ulterior motive.

Keith: "They say Kougyoku is a country where civil war never ceases,"

Keith: "and currently, three factions are vying for national unification."

Emma: "There are figures among the factions who claim to be king, right?"

Keith: "Yes. It seems that anyone with power, regardless of status, can claim to be one."

Keith: "And as a unique feature not found in other countries, each faction has various nations supporting them."

Keith: "Since Jade has a long history and friendly relations with Ruby, we are supporting the nation, not the factions."

(So, the middle island)

(The complicated state of affairs of the countries makes my head spin the more I learn.)

Emma: "Which faction has formed the alliance...?”

Keith shook his head in distress.

Keith: “Since multiple factions exist, I thought I would hear some information flowing in... but it seems to be difficult.”

Keith: “That’s why the invitation from Kagari is so valuable.”

Emma: “And Kagari ‘san’?”

(I noticed he corrected himself just now, but could it be...?)

Keith: “I’m friends with Kagari.”

Emma: “I see...!”

Learning about Keith’s friendships at such an unexpected moment made me lean forward in interest.

(I shouldn’t get carried away. I want to ask so many things, but I have to hold back for now.)

Keith: “Kagari has originally been part of the royal camp and has achieved numerous victories in battles.”

Keith: “He is feared and called ‘Yasha’ for his unmatched strength...”

Keith: “However, he seems to have defected from the royal family and is now building his own camp in a different faction.”

(That’s why the invitation came from Prince Kagari, the second prince, instead of the first.)

Keith: “Both the three-country alliance and Kagari’s current actions are honestly wrapped in mystery.”

Keith: “Which faction formed the alliance, and what is its purpose?”

Keith: “And the reason why Kagari, who has defected from the royal family, sent the invitation...”

Keith: “I’ve decided to participate in the friendship meeting as his friend to understand whether Ruby will be a country we should watch out for in the future.”

Keith: “So...”

Before Keith could finish his words, I opened my mouth.

Emma: “May I come with you?”

(I know I can’t be much help. Still, I want to face issues that affect the future of the country.)

Keith: “I want to ‘make this country bloom with the beautiful flower of happiness forever.’”

Keith: “I promised my brother that long ago... As the future king and as Emma’s lover—”

Keith: “I want to fulfill that vow together with him, the ‘other side of myself.’”

Emma: “...Keith, can I also be included in that 'promise'?”

(Because I want to continue making the flowers of happiness bloom in Jade alongside Master Keith.)

After a brief silence, his large hand gently took mine.

Keith: “Because you are by my side, we ‘can’ overcome any difficulties and hardships.”

Keith: “...Thank you for saying you want to join.”

Keith: “Ruby is said to be a country of chaos. We don’t know where the dangers lurk.”

Keith: “We will protect you, Emma... no matter what.”

His lips touched the back of my hand as if making a vow.

Emma: “Thank you.”

(I feel the same way as you, Keith.)

I gently stood on my tiptoes and this time, I kissed Master Keith on the cheek.

He turned to me with a smile that seemed to contain all the kindness in the world, warming my heart.

The warmth that flowed between us, the feelings shared, and the words spoken were all genuine and honest.

(But then... I wonder why.)

Keith: “Emma?”

Emma: “Oh, I’m sorry. I was staring too much.”

Keith: “No, I actually welcome that. If anything, I want you to gaze at me even more.”

Keith: “...Just kidding, that was an incredibly creepy response. P-please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Emma: “That’s unfortunate... I was planning to take advantage of those words and keep staring at you a little longer, Keith.”

Keith: “Ah, I really want you to keep looking at me.”

His immediate response made me smile involuntarily.

(This isn’t the first time.)

(I wonder when I started looking at him like this?)

The faint dark hue that flickered in his golden eyes brought back the lingering anxiety in my heart.

Later in the carriage-

Emma: “Prince Keith... no, that’s not right.”

[more-mara]

time travel shenanigans but make it choscar. f2 oscar and current oscar swap places so you've got 19/20 year old prema oscar with stars in his eyes meeting 27 year old charles leclerc (and being very normal about the now 7-8 year age gap)

vs 23/24 year old current oscar meeting 22/23 year old charles and feeling so so weird about it because what do you mean they're nearly the same age?? how is he possibly supposed to call this utter twink with terrible hair "daddy" i mean what

On one hand you have prema Oscar being transported into the future where he’s now a multi time f1 Grand Prix winner and currently leading the championship and he’s confused as hell as to how he even got there but what’s even more confusing is when CHARLES FUCKING LECLERC aka prema Oscar’s big fat crush is coming over and wrapping his arms around Oscar’s waist casually and whispering filthy things in his ear that has prema Oscar (currently in 2025 Oscar’s body) blushing like crazy. He’s just about ready to combust when he realises that there’s nearly a DECADE AGE GAP (sue him, he loves a good age gap) and Oscar has to physically stop himself from drooling at the thought. Because like, that’s daddy, and Charles has no qualms with referring to himself as such. Plus Oscar just can’t get over how fucking sexy this future, 27 year old version of Charles is.

On the other hand you have 24 year old Oscar in prema Oscar’s body coming across Charles who is basically the same age as him now and he’s like ?? Oscar kind of forgets himself a bit and goes to call Charles babe when he sees him before realising that Charles is absolutely NOT his boyfriend at this point.

But Oscar’s looking at that baby faced version of Charles and is so fucking conflicted because how in the hell is that the man that dicks him down constantly and has a boarder line crazy daddy kink?

[imtrashraccoon]

Thank you to @coresanthewriter for the commission! I haven't written this topic before, but I had a lot of fun doing so. I hope you like it! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Wedding Day

Featuring: Swapfell Gold Sans "Wine" x You (Core)

Today was the day! After almost two years, you would finally be marrying the love of your life. The journey had not always been an easy or pleasant one, but now you could do the one thing you had been longing for ever since you had confessed your true feelings to your partner.

Funnily enough, your fiance was probably even more excited than you were about today. You had talked through "what if" scenarios on and off before, but when the legislation went through to legalize interspecies marriage, Wine's enthusiasm only grew more and more with each passing day. Indeed, he had all but insisted on planning out the whole ceremony, which made sense because he had always been good at that sort of thing.

It was a small affair, but that suited you two just fine. While Wine had a penchant for grandeur and large displays of power, he knew when to hold off when it counted. This was to be the first human-monster marriage since the whole race was freed from their underground prison after all, and what happened today would set the precedent for any future ceremonies to come.

Another reason you two had agreed to keep the wedding small was the fact that there just weren't that many guests to invite. Sure, Wine's brother would be there in support, but he did not have very many friends he wanted to be there. Despite this, the Monster Queen would be in attendance, as would the human ambassador who had freed their entire race. Although you had tried to tell yourself otherwise, this ceremony was a political one, especially since Wine still held a high rank in the Royal Guard. However, there would be a few other monsters attending as well, such as the Royal Scientist, the former Monster King, and a few plus ones, but you didn't mind since you were friends with most of them already.

As for you, it was a bit of a similar story. A few of your good friends were coming, in fact they had been overjoyed to be invited, but your family had declined when they learned who you would be marrying. It was not a huge surprise, since your parents had pitched a fit when they found out you were dating a monster a year ago, but you would have been lying if you said it didn't still hurt. The one good thing was that you were joining a new family, one who loved and accepted you for who you were, not for what you could do or whether you made them look good.

When the time for the ceremony began, it felt as though your heart had leapt into your throat. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but a small voice in the back of your head knew better. If you could just make through your vows, you would count it as a win, although in reality you were already winning. No matter what happened in the next few minutes, you would end the day married to the one you loved more than anyone else.

Wine was already waiting at the altar when you stepped into the auditorium. You remembered thinking that he had always looked good, but seeing him like this - dressed up in his full ceremonial guard uniform - you felt like you could admire him forever. His hands were folded behind his back and he stood tall, as if ready to take on the very world itself for you. The gold accents of his uniform gleamed under the lights and really brought out the scarlet pinpricks that rested in his sockets. Despite his rigid posture, there was a warmth to his presence that could be felt throughout the whole room, as if he was just barely suppressing the sheer joy in his soul to be here today.

Your outfit wasn't a traditional wedding suit or gown, but something more fitting for this unprecedented event. You wore a dress shirt with lace detailing, smart-looking slacks, and a loose cloak with a gold clasp. Your normally shoulder length hair had been plaited and tied back into a sort of wreath encircling your head. Your makeup wasn't anything too over the top, but it brought out your ebony eyes and made your warm sepia skin glow beneath the lights. You felt good, like you could let loose and have a little fun, but still seem sophisticated and elegant at the same time.

Wine's permanent smile only seemed to widen the moment his eyelights landed on you. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away either as you made your way down the aisle to stand by his side. Truly, if he was the happiest monster in the world today, then you were the happiest human as well.

"Well Now," he purred in a voice that was meant for you and you alone as the pianist wrapped up the refrain. "I Was Beginning To Wonder If You Might Stand Me Up, But I Have Never Been More Glad To Be Wrong, My Paramore."

~ ~ (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)💜

Do you want a little drabble of your own? Check out my pinned post for my rates. I will be happy to write something for you!

[abstractdogwolfthing]

Pleeeaaaassssseeeeee

For the love of all the stars in the sky…

I desire to know more about Minty Cross!~

(Sorry for the delay!!)

// implied drug use, fantastical drug use, toxic relationships, toxic dynamics, unhealthy attachment, obsessive love (sorta)

(Use she/her on Strawberry NM 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️)

Let’s meet MintChoco!Cross

(Click for better quality….)

His origin comic link is here.

I would like to clarify that only Cross became this ‘food-like,’ monster out of the crew. Nightmare plunges her corruption into her pets patients’ souls—which completely rid their negativity (existing and potential), as well as place a protective barrier on their very being. Due to that, the crew can eat lots of weird food and drink potions that, in any normal case would transform or harm them, like it is nothing.

Cross was a very new recruit, he hadn’t had the chance to get that ‘protection,’ and he ate the sweet treat that made him into this minty creature.

Nightmare felt awful for this, she wishes she could’ve been quicker, responsible.

She tries to cure his ailment to no avail, he was stuck like this until the foreseeable future (or until XGaster manages to retrieve him, but that might take years…)

Feeling a tad guilty, she keeps him close, pampering him. That leads her to become extremely attached to him. She can’t manage to even nestle her corruption into his soul, she just can’t. Not that she has to, he seems much more ‘chilled-out,’ than when she first met him.

The brownie didn’t actually make him ‘perpetually high,’ in a sense. He is technically inebriated, but think of someone having a small joint instead of ‘lots.’

(I do not smoke so I don’t know the slang for ‘someone who is very very high from marijuana usage.’)

The brownie made him more ‘Classic-like,’ in his behavior. He may have some tendencies that is like his old self, same with the part of him that resembles Swap!Sans, but the brownie sort of ‘enhanced’ his Classic!Sans attributes.

Due to this he stays close to Nightmare. Being pampered all the time. Relaxing on her lower tentacles like it’s a bed especially made for him. Sometimes, he even snacks on Nightmare’s body and clothes—since they taste like strawberry-flavored treats, he greatly enjoys it. Nightmare does too… maybe a little too much.

She never tells him she loves it, but he can tell. He indulges in her, as a form of worship.

MintChoco!Cross is constantly chilly, so he likes to wear robes and poofy sweaters and jackets. They don’t help much but they feel nice. To feel actual warmth he stays close to Nightmare.

Nightmare and MintChoco!Cross never are an established relationship, but they are undoubtedly close.

She gives him special access to—everywhere. Sitting next to her when dining. On her lap when she is on her throne. Next to her in bed. They’re extremely close. Attached.

She tries to bury it deep down, but she knows that Cross will eventually leave her. Either by being saved by BlueberrySorbet!Dream or by being reset by XGaster. MintChoco!Cross knows this isn’t forever too (not the specifics on how this will end, but he knows this is somewhat temporary) so he treats this like an extended vacation.

(Do not fool yourself, or let me fool you. This is not a healthy relationship dynamic. But if you’re anything like me, toxic Yuri is in my blood)

Anyway hope you enjoyed!! Feel free to ask more questions :3

BlueberrySorbet!Dream’s ramble session (aka 2p!Dream)

Strawberry!Nightmare’s ramble session (aka 2p!Nightmare)

[forsaken-headcanons]

The Spectre made Sentinel more aggressive,ruthless and lack self-preservation even when protecting others survivors, in order to make them able to face those monstrosity and do their job(like,look at the unreleased killers,they are the one that looks scary enough for me)

Basically it becomes a situation where everyone is having a heart attack cuz whatever the fuck is gonna kill them and the sentinel is just "oh shit,new enemy to deal with ig(in a tone without too much panic)" cuz they are unable to fear as much as normal survivors does, they still feel fear ofc(that's the point of the forsakening them) but they're more likely to sacrifice their life when they starts fighting

But this also kinda altered their personality(they're more impulsive and even aggressive maybe(?), survivors that are close with them can notice it better than they changed,but kinda ignored about that fact and think they just get desensitised or annoyed over it and not knowing it's because of the Spectre(maybe they will eventually realised it)

Oh yeah for for Two Time is different,he is just insane enough to be fearless already and doesn't need too much of those adjustments before turned into sentinel.

Maybe also different for Chance(?) he is a risk-taker already and Spectre amplified it,but he didn't get the aggressive altering cuz he is already very likely to die

And Guest 1337 is the most effected by the altering (not Shedletsky cuz he is kinda survivalist if you think about it,and I gonna leave it to separate ask to make something for it)

Bonus:

IF there is survivor in future who gets turn into sentinel,they would get those mentality altering,they might realise their personality changes tho (or vice versa if they got un-sentinel,but it's not likely to have this kind of things happening with in-game updates other than in storyline idk)

Bonus2:

(Assuming the current killers we have is the early stage of Forsaken)

The altering gets worse as the Spectre puts more and more scary creatures/entity into there as time goes by,which makes the sentinel personality more and more different and one-sided(I think) that the other survivors who are close with them feels like they aren't the same anymore due to how careless and aggressive they're at that point

That's all,I will make a survivalist and support altering too later

-randomized anon

This is giving me flashbacks to the Redo Repent Repeat AU by oohhohhvv (good AU btw I love that AU) (is this a mini shout out? sure you can take it as that)

Guest 1337 especially being affected with how his abilities make him play as a defensive sentinel fits with this. He literally has hit priority over the others.

I'll be interested to see how the altering goes for Survivalists and Supports.