#So that happened and naturally I'm. Putting it on the internet.

[shitty-gay-mess]

yknow what. Fuck my brain. Fuck my brain. It went "Oh i see we need A New Someone to Get Shit Done!! Let me just flip through this little catalog here of all the skrunkly little guys we've become emotionally attached to and introject one for u!!!! So helpful I'm being!!!"

First of all. U are not being helpful we do not need A New Someone. And second of all. Why in the evER LOVING FUCK DID MY FUCKIGN BRAIN PICK THE FUCKED UP LITTLE TRANS TWINK THAT IS THE MOTHERFUCKING ONCELER.

I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS. I DID NOT ASK TO EXIST. I DID NOT ASK TO BE PROJECTED UPON

CAN I LEAVE PLS.

[anarkhebringer]

I woke up to this and am really thinking about this

[cozmic-ash]

every once in a while this post starts getting notes again and you know what......... I have literally no idea how the FUCK this has gotten to almost 75k lol, it boggles my entire brain

[harrysfolklore]

little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

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ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

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username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never ��

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

��I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynpiastri has added to their stories

carlossainz55 replied to your story

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri and we’re back 🏁 i promise to make this season drama free

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡

landonorris I know your reasons

↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

lilyzneimer the third pic is my faveeee

username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic

landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again

↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

↳ ynpiastri cry baby

carlossainz55 started following you

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭

landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

↳ username1 IM SCREAMING

↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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TWITTER

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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username1 so iconic tbh

username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??

↳ username1 i thought they hated each other 😭

danielricciardo 🙌

alexandrasaintmleux 👀 I see you

↳ ynpiastri and i don’t see you over her which means your boyfriend sucks for not bringing you

↳ charles_leclerc …..

landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG

↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[kari-sims]

Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)

also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)

[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]

🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)

Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…

(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)

"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."

(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)

"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?

(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)

"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."

(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)

- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.

"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."

- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.

"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"

(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)

"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."

(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)

"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"

(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)

"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"

🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•

[RECORD ENDS]

wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail

(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌

[shyfoxsky]

I really think that the therian community needs more essays on former trends and general forms of conduct, because I've said it before and will continue to say it, but the way the community was structured in the mid to late 2010s when I was first awakened was fun and exciting and helped me really find the good in my identity, but also was extremely toxic, judgy, and detrimental to my overall journey.

In my first few years in the community, I was embraced into a corner of the internet that was all about animals and the ethical treatment of them and appreciating and worshipping nature as we all considered ourselves more a part of it than "others". I was also dragged by my tail into a corner of the internet that forced me to give up every single personal, little detail about my personal identity and how I felt about it and the step-by-step of how I got there just to be allowed to speak.

That community both sang the praises of wolf therians, put them on a pedestal, to the point that it felt like they were above all other 'types, while also simultaneously tearing down anyone who questioned wolves, especially certain coat colors, to the point that you had to defend a master's thesis in front of a panel of graymuzzles for anyone to allow you the label "wolf therian". From day one, you were conditioned to believe there was no fun and intimate community, no pack meets, no content for you, unless you were a gray wolf, but you had to be educated on par with the top experts in the world on both identity and the species to not be considered "another kid that likes wolves". If you were anything else, you were an outcast in a world of outcasts. You were just "trying to be unique". You never got edits, outfits, etc. without asking creator accounts for them yourself. The community's terminology was structured around wolves. Howls, packs, etc. You either had to accept that you were going to be outnumbered in any close-knit small group you joined, if you were even allowed and it wasn't "wolves only", or, you could make a group designed around 'types similar to yours, which would never be found by others like you, and would quickly only become a failed idea.

That community is what led to my complicated and painful feelings towards wolves. For the rest of my life, no matter what happens, I will always have doubt in my identity because of it all. I will either be a wolf who believes I'm one because of the community's influence, or I won't and will believe I'm not because I want to escape the stereotypes that come with being a wolf.

That community also was riddled with rigid, unspoken rules about what was and wasn't an acceptable therian identity. I never heard of systems during that time, never saw anyone identify solely psychologically, and no one identified only because they felt like that creature. Back then, you were a standard therian with a single 'type, maybe a second if you'd been researching and journaling every single day without fail for more than a year with statistics to back it up. You had a reason for your identity, but it couldn't just be that you imprinted on your pets as a child (that's not enough), or that it developed from trauma or autism (therianthropy isn't a mental illness), or that you simply feel that way (you're just a wolfaboo). You had to be a misplaced soul, someone with past lives, on rare occasions, you could be a permanent walk-in spirit (but definitely not in a plural way). Don't even get me started on the idea of polymorphs, conceptkin, etc.

I personally feel like a standard therian, but to this day, I still question the origin of my identity. So much of my identity as a red wolf hinged on it being endangered and from my area, because then I could be a misplaced soul due to there not being enough bodies for red wolves to be born into. When I first awakened, I thought my identity came from a past life, even though I personally don't believe I can ever find out what those were, if I even have any. Later on, when I realized being raised with dogs and always seeing and being compared to canines likely had something to do with it, and I considered it to have come from imprinting, I still felt as if I was required to find some spiritual side to it as well. I still struggle with this, to the point that I barely know what I believe in afterlife-wise anymore, and I certainly don't understand what led to my identity, if something even led to it at all.

Those kinds of things needs to be discussed more, because to an extent, I feel like it's still present, both in the same and different ways. The newly-awakened alterhumans of today, yesterday, and tomorrow, all deserve to have a truly accepting space to figure themselves out without pressure to conform to an unspoken standard of how one should identify. Tumblr is better about it than most sites, but ones like TikTok might set things back, if they haven't already, despite the attempts of well-meaning individuals who are trying to break through the algorithm and educate others. I just think more discussions need to be had and more perspectives and experiences need to be shared for the sake of awareness and making sure damaging practices don't continue forever.

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Legend's Birthday

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): Smut, duh.

Notes: It was Legend's birthday a bit ago, so y'all know what that means! Set in the modern world where Legend is a museum-curator-slash-retired-adventurer. Inspired by the beautiful and amazing @h4wari. Hope you enjoy, big sis!!!

Masterlist

If there was one thing you learned from living with Legend, it was how to be sneaky.

He was a lot sharper than most people gave him credit for, and it was as attractive as it was frustrating, considering the predicament you had subjected yourself to over the last week, seeing how snow and seasonal depression weren't the only things heralded by the month of November.

It was Legend's birthday today, and you had pulled out all the stops to keep him from discovering your little scheme to celebrate his special day.

It's not a big deal, you remembered him saying after you nearly had a meltdown last November after realizing you had been missing his birthday for the past few years of your relationship. I'm always busy when they happen, so why bother?

Why bother? Because you loved him, damnit!

So, naturally, you set a private calendar notice a week before the event to prepare. There were many conventional ways to celebrate birthdays–eating cake, giving presents, going out for a nice dinner, letting the birthday person pick the movie of the night–but neither you or Legend were particularly conventional, which led you to a fine invention known as the Internet.

The search results had been appropriately varied, ranging from Reddit's suggestions of diving hand-in-hand off the Golden Gate Bridge (exhilarating, but you wanted to be alive afterward) to booking a last-minute year-long cruise across the world, which, while you were sure he might appreciate, was neither within your long-term interests or price range.

So, really, the bunny costume you haphazardly ordered from a random shady website was a mix of both worlds, and you couldn't be blamed for the impromptu trip you made to the grocery store in search of baby carrots once your dear boyfriend traipsed to work, bidding you farewell with a grumpily-affectionate kiss that made your heart flutter and your brain cackle at the surprise he was about to receive in a few hours.

The costume arrived two hours after Legend departed. You giddily slipped on the ensemble: a swimsuit-esque bodysuit made out of maroon leather that shone in the dim light of your shared bedroom, followed by some black cuff links, a small choker that did nothing of the sort, and a headband with pink-tipped bunny ears shooting from the black band, a bendable wire running through the middle of each one to allow for easy customization.

After adjusting the ears to your liking, one bent and the other sticking straight up like a fat little antenna, you strode to the closet and found the real prize: the fluffiest bunny tail butt plug the internet had to offer, which was saying something. You grabbed the plug and a small bottle of lube, squirting a bit on the tip and fiddling for the small hole in the back of your leotard, positioning the plug where it needed to be before slowly working it in. The sensation of being stretched was strange, but not in a bad way, and you gave your ass a few experimental shakes, shrugging when all you felt was a gentle tug as the fabric of your bodysuit shifted.

Feeling ready to tackle the rest of your day, you walked (hobbled) down to the kitchen, retrieving the baby carrots and putting them in a small bowl before moving to your next project: the cake currency cooling in the refrigerator. You had baked and frosted it prior to getting dressed, so there was only one thing left to do before your boyfriend came home in approximately thirty minutes.

You opened the refrigerated and pulled the cake from the top shelf, setting it on the counter as you retrieved the prepared piping bags–pink and red, of course–approaching the dessert with a determined expression.

This was it. Your magnum opus, if you do say so yourself. You would be the first to admit that your baking skills weren't exactly stellar, nor were you particularly good at decorating, but damnit, if you weren't going to do your hardest to make this the best birthday cake he had seen in his life.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you brought the piping bag down to the frosted canvas before you, just begging to be defiled in the best of ways. With nigh-unbreakable concentration, you carefully penned the words 'happy birthday' onto the top half of the cake in smooth red icing. A smile broke across your face as you scanned the writing, realizing, with a healthy dose of relief, that it was legible and there were no grievous spelling errors that would send him into a conniption.

"Fuck yeah," you muttered, hastily adjusting the slightly-slipping headband before grabbing the pink icing, spelling out his name in curvy pastel letters that took up the rest of the cake. It wasn't a masterpiece, by any means, but it was beautiful in a DIY kind of way, and that was good enough for you.

Your phone buzzed from the counter and you practically shot over, reading the message on the screen with wide eyes.

It was Legend.

And he was heading home.

Now.

"Shit, shit," you cursed under your breath, hurrying to (gently) shove the piping bags and cake back into the refrigerator before darting upstairs to retrieve the other present you had gotten him–a collection of leather-bound notebooks for him to catalogue his observations during work–before sprinting back down to set the neatly-wrapped box on the kitchen counter, making sure the house was spotless before practically throwing yourself on the living room couch with the bowl of carrots, heart pounding as you crunched on one of the small sticks.

This was it... and you were simultaneously terrified and excited to see his reaction.

There was quiet click and the front door swung open.

Legend loved his job as the Head Curator at Hylia University.

After many, many years of grueling adventuring for whatever company paid him, it was a nice change of pace to be able to sit down and catalogue some fancy rocks, all the while sipping his home-brewed coffee and scoffing with other veterans about the interns.

Which was what he was doing right now, except he wasn't sitting or sipping or scoffing. The red-haired intern cowered as he pinched his temples, letting out a sigh dry enough to drain the ocean.

"What is this, Nicole?" he asked, voice deceptively calm as the other interns shifted nervously around him, their eyes rippling around the area like a patch of particularly turbulent waves. "And don't tell me it's a rock."

"I won't," she squeaked, and Legend had the distinct urge to shake her by the shoulders.

"It's a ruby," he said flatly, watching as her soul withered under his gaze. Good. His eyes fixed to the certain display she had attempted to place the ruby, which now sat in her tumbling hands, in. "And where did you just put it?"

Silence.

Then.

"The igneous rock display...?" Her tone was edged with terror, and he had the feeling that she would have pissed herself had he not been her boss.

"Nicole," his arms crossed over his chest as he sent her a look. "Why in Hylia would you put it there?"

"It's a rock," she all but whimpered, and Legend had to physically bite his tongue to force himself to listen to the rest of her insane logic. "And I think the mineral composition is similar to the ones from this–"

He held up a hand, putting a stop to the madness taking place. The other interns shifted like a flock of restless geese, waiting for his next move with bated, shuddering breath. Weirdos. "I don't know what's worse," he began. "That you think a metamorphic rock belongs in the igneous display or that you didn't think to place it in the gemstone display, with the other gemstones" Legend gestured to the display at the end of the room with a 'are you serious?' expression. "Did the sign just float away or do I need to enlarge the font for you?"

Her bottom lip trembled, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners, and he sighed. "Do not cry," Legend warned, tone leaving no room for argument. "Just go put it in the gemstone display."

"But sir–" another intern pipped up, and Legend silenced him with a thick glare.

"What, Dillon?" he growled, a headache already brewing at the promise of more fuckery. "What could you possibly have to add?"

"We can't put it in that display," Dillon said, tone edging with the same apprehension that Nicole's had possessed earlier. He ran a hand through his brown hair, looking like he was internally praying to whatever deity existed for protection against their ornery boss. "It's broken."

Legend's eye twitched. "Broken? How?"

"By you, sir," another intern said weakly, looking like they would rather die than be here. "During the burglary attempt last week."

Ah, he had almost forgotten about that. Legend may not have been the young, spry adventurer he once was, but it didn't mean he didn't still have it, as he had shown last week by punching a would-be burglar into the gemstone display case, securing their hands together with a length of measuring tape as the interns watched, practically on their knees in awe. You had laughed like a maniac when he shared that particular experience over a meal at the mom and pop restaurant in town, and the memory would have brought a smile to his face had he not been with the current company.

"And why isn't it fixed?" he rubbed his temples in an attempt to alleviate the brewing headache. "Who's in charge of glass maintenance?"

"Maurice is," Dillon coughed into his fist, and Legend felt his expression sour further.

Maurice, an ancient custodian who had been working here since before he had been born, but Legend more commonly thought of the other man as the current bane of his existence. The old fart was perpetually late, never cleaned the exhibits properly, and, for some bizarre reason, really enjoyed the smell of pipe cleaner. Probably more than a sane person should have, Legend had come to realize when he caught the man sniffing from the bottle in between halfhearted scrubs of said pipes, only to threaten to douse him in alcohol in a manner that had Legend backing out of the room with his middle fingers raised protectively.

"Of course he is," Legend grumbled. "Well, someone get the horn and summon him or, I don't know, just leave the ruby in the igneous display."

"But you said–"

"Not another word, Nicole," the blonde silenced her with a raise of his hand. "Now, I'm going to get some coffee, and I expect that ruby to be with the gemstones when I get back. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Nicole nodded, clutching the stone a bit tighter as her eyes flashed with determination. "Shall I label it?"

"Don't push your luck, Nicole," he turned and strode down the hall toward the cafeteria, pushing some hair from his face, grimacing slightly when a deridingly pink strand stood out against his skin. He was never one for that color, but after a terrible Halloween accident involving temporary hair dye and setting conditioner, he found it was just one of the things he would have to live with, especially when you assured him that pink was most definitely his color, much to his (amused) chagrin.

The line for coffee wasn't horrendously long, leaving him with a few short minutes to contemplate the day before receiving a cup of his favorite brew: black as his soul with a hidden sprinkle of sugar. While he typically preferred your coffee to the store-bought alternatives, he had already finished the thermos you sent him off with, leaving him high and dry amidst the madness of the day.

With a huff, Legend started to his office, offhandedly checking his watch. 5:02 pm, which meant only twenty-eight minutes separated him from you.

Legend allowed himself to smile as he pushed into the office, collapsing in the first seating arrangement he saw, a plush chair typically reserved to comfort the unfortunate souls that found themselves in his lair. You were always the highlight of his day, and not even redheaded interns putting rubies in igneous rock displays could dampen his excitement, especially when his calendar dinged and the realization that it was his birthday hit harder than any insane custodian.

Birthdays had always been a bit of a sore spot for him, which only increased when he began dating you. He didn't need anything special, it was just another day, and yet you had seemed genuinely distressed when it was revealed that you had inadvertently missed his birthday for the past three years, swearing up and down to make this year the best one he had ever had. Legend highly doubted that, mostly because he had kept a careful eye on your shared bank account for any... suspicious purchases, which there were none, and you seemed to have all but forgotten about it. Good. He was just fine without being fawned over for forcing his mother to undergo hours of excruciating agony to bring him into his world.

Still, there was a small part of him that hoped you remembered, if only to hear your sweet voice wishing him a 'happy birthday', but he was more than content to simply live his life like it was any other day.

Legend checked his watch again.

5:09 pm.

...Fuck it.

The chair creaked as he abruptly stood up, grabbing his coat from the wall and striding out of the office like he owned the place, not bothering to send any warning to the interns over their newfangled 'Groupme' app because, damnit, it was his birthday and he didn't need to take their bullshit until tomorrow.

Besides, he had a house to get home to.

You nearly dropped the bowl when the door began to swing open, a millisecond away from choking on the carrot in your mouth as Legend's form filled the doorway.

He was home.

Early.

You had spent so much time preparing your outfit and the cake and the presents that you had completely forgotten to prepare your heart along with them

"Hi," you squeaked, feeling very much like the rabbit you were dressed as he took in the sigh of you, perched on the couch with a bowl of carrots in your lap and an apprehensive expression on your face. '"..You're home early."

"Yeah," said your boyfriend eloquently, eyes glued to your form. A red blush bloomed over his cheeks, which were already a bit pink from the cold. "You–"

"Are you hungry?" You asked at the same time, hesitantly bringing another carrot to your red-painted lips, biting it in half with a small crunch. His gaze snapped to your mouth, and you could have sworn you saw him gulp. "There's... there's cake in the kitchen."

He glanced over, but not for long, eyes returning to your body. You had always loved the color of his eyes, so intensely blue that you swore they looked purple with the right lighting. When he remained silent, you drew in a breath.

"Happy birthday," you felt a bit embarrassed from the way his eyebrows shot up in disbelief at the phrase. "I know I missed it the last few years, but I promise I'll do better, so, um, happy birthday. Again."

Legend blinked a few times, and it was in that moment that you noticed just how white his knuckles had gotten around the handle of his briefcase. "Is that...?"

You nodded, placing the bowl on the end table as you waited for his true reaction.

"You're wearing a..." he hesitated, and you tried to sit a bit straighter under his gaze, which wasn't unusual, but it felt a lot more poignant in this moment. "...bunny costume."

"Yes," you said, feeling a bit ashamed.

"For me?"

"Who else?" you forced a small smile, ears flopping as you nodded on instinct. "I'm sorry if it's weird–"

"It's not," he interjected, setting his briefcase down and locking the door with one hand. "Not weird, I mean."

You bit your lip, praying to Hylia that he would do something. "...Can I get you anything?"

"You," Legend said, and you nearly jumped when he shucked off his coat and strode over, coming to a stop just inches in front of you. a callused hand grasped your chin, encouraging you to meet his gaze. His smile was both gentle and feral, and you shivered a bit at the desire rolling in his irises.

"Me?"

"Yes," was his response before he bent down and kissed you, tongue lapping at the seam of your lips to deepen the action, mouth moving against yours in a way that made you want to melt into him. He tasted faintly of store-bought coffee and you were tempted to tease him for cheating on you, but it was neither the place nor the time, especially when his free hand grabbed your hip, a bit chilly against your warmed skin. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, pulling him closer and sighing into his mouth.

Legend drew away first, breathing deepening as he stared into your eyes. His expression was soft, and still a bit shocked, like he couldn't quite believe was he was seeing. That's okay, you'd make him believe it.

"You're amazing," he broke the silence, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head, mere inches away from the bunny headband.

"I'm not," you joked, earning a look.

"You are," this time, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, which you had neglected to paint in the likeness of an actual rabbit. Oh well, next time. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Since last year," you admitted far too quickly, expression turning a bit sheepish. Your fingers dug gently into the muscles of his forearm. "I wanted to make up for... you know."

"You didn't have to," he mused, hand tracing a line from your hip to the tail, stroking gently over the puffed ball. It was round and soft, quivering slightly when he thumbed at it. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"But I wanted to–!" you countered, only to interrupt yourself with a gasp when he gave the tail an experimental tug.

"Hmm," he hummed, tone a bit distracted. His other hand moved to the front of the bodysuit, knuckles running over the pleated leather. "Why a bunny, though?"

You recovered enough to send him a soft grin. "You like bunnies."

"I like you," Legend corrected with an answering smile, and it was hard not to laugh at the cheesiness of the statement.

"Same difference," you chuckled, sitting up a bit straighter when a hand ghosted over your breast, though it quickly swung up to cup your cheek as he pulled you into another dizzying kiss. You sighed into his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level.

Time seemed to meld together as you connected, mouths moving to an invisible beat. You ran your tongue against his own, drawing a shiver from the man. It didn't take a genius to notice the straining bulge in his shorts, and you were determined to make this the best birthday ever. "Link," you whispered against his lips, earning a curious look. "Is that a carrot in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Carrot," he responded immediately, and you snorted in response, breaking the kiss to shoot him a saucy grin.

"Oo, does that mean it's up to eat?"

This time, it was Legend's turn to snort. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're about to get lucky," you laughed, moving your hands down to undo the buttons of this shirt, which was promptly thrown over his shoulder once it was off, revealing miles and miles of warm, slightly-tanned skin for your perusal. His cheeks still held the lightest pink tinge, and you discovered that the flush hadn't stopped there, extending down the smooth plane of his neck to stain the tops of his shoulders. A smattering of thin, silvery scars crisscrossed his abdomen, a testament to his adventures in the great unknown. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

Legend flushed a bit darker

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, but you knew that he secretly loved the praise. You loved it, too.

"No, really," you stroked a hand from his pectoral to his obliques, relishing in the shiver the action earned you. "I could look at you all day."

He looked ready to reply, but your fingers drifted to the waistband of his shorts, unbuckling his belt with practiced ease, the item soon joining his shirt on the floor. "Is this okay?" you asked softly, pointer finger toying with the shiny metal button holding it all together.

"More than," Legend said without missing a beat, face tinted a brilliant red that made you want to kiss him breathless. You didn't hesitate, popping the button and sliding the zipper down in quick succession. With a smile that was far more devious that you wanted to admit, you slid your hand under the fabric and wrapped it around the hot, straining length of his cock, giving the sensitive flesh a gentle squeeze as a breath shuddered from his chest. "Fuck, (Y/n)–"

"Shh," you soothed, your unoccupied hand coming up to cup his right hipbone. "Sit down for me?"

Legend nodded wordlessly, allowing you to guide him to plop down on the couch, legs spread and cock tenting the already wet fabric of his underwear. You sank down between his thighs, movement hindered only by the tail still lodged deep inside you, and quickly freed his dick, pulling his boxers just under his balls.

You didn't give him much time to prepare, licking a long, hot stripe up the underside of his cock, cleverly flicking the quivering tip with the flat of your tongue. Legend's fingers immediately sunk into the couch cushions, abs visibly tightening as he groaned to the ceiling. The sound sent a rush of liquid heat spiraling through your bones, igniting every nerve in your body, and you grinned, feeling more confident that you had in days. "I love you," you murmured against his length, planting a sloppy kiss to the side of it, and Legend sucked in a sharp breath, watching you with half-lidded eyes and a blush bright enough to put the sun to shame.

"I love you too," he whispered back, and you rewarded him with a slow lick to the flushed head of his dick, eagerly lapping at the salty pre burbling from the fat tip. A hand found its place on the top of your head, gently toying with the rabbit ears attached to your head. "Hah– (Y/n)–"

You said his name in response, breath ghosting deliciously over the wet skin of his length before you moved to take him in your mouth, starting with the flushed head. Legend's remaining hand gripped the cushion harder as he fought for control, but it was for naught when your tongue swirled over the quivering flesh, drawing a series of groans from his pink, parted lips. You preened at the noise, relaxing your throat to fit a bit more of him into your mouth, beginning to suck when you were satisfied.

"Ah–!" Legend practically cried when the suction registered. He called your name once more, tone pitching as your cheeks hollowed more and more, tongue idly flicking the underside of his head. "Shit, you're s-so good at this–"

Your response was to suck harder, relishing in the way his hips inadvertently bucked, forcing a good few inches of him into your mouth. Legend groaned, attempting to curb the motion, if the obvious strain in his abdomen and thighs meant anything, but you didn't mind. He was always so worried about pushing boundaries or hurting you, which was sweet, but you weren't made of glass. "Mm, fuck, sorry–" he panted, but you merely took him deeper, huffing softly to let him know it was okay.

Legend trembled like a leaf by the time you began to move, bobbing your head in a familiar rhythm, one hand intertwining with his--the contact a sort of whispered intimacy that never failed to make your heart mush and your knees weak--while the other stroked the base of his length, creating a pseudo-block just in case he did subconsciously decide to harpoon your throat again. "Oh, Hylia," he gasped, fingers digging so hard into the couch that you feared it would rip. "'M not gonna last–"

The warning had the opposite effect, with you sucking even harder around his trembling, leaking length, thumb stretching down to caress his balls with a featherlight touch. His moans pitched in volume and tone, until he was nearly keening under your hands, babbling something unintelligible as you worked him over, popping off his cock every so often to lave licks and kisses over the shuddering flesh, making sure to pay extra attention to the flushed head, which quivered oh-so-deliciously beneath the arched flat of your tongue. It was a far cry from the gruff, ornery persona he employed to face the rest of the world, and seeing him crumble under your attentions was the best feeling in Hyrule, especially when his hips jerked softly, nudging the head of his cock deeper into your waiting mouth.

"Shit, (Y/n)," he hissed, gazing down at you with a lovestruck expression that made your core throb. His chest heaved and you didn't fail to notice the way his dick seemed to stiffen against your tongue, balls drawing up slightly under your thumb. He was close, and you knew it. "Please, love, c-can I–?"

As if he even had to ask. You responded by drawing up, the head of his cock just barely within the confines of your lips, and sinking back down, taking him to the hilt. Legend let out a shout, lips falling open as his orgasm hit him like a meteor. His hands flew to your head, gently tangling in your hair and pulling slightly when the first spurt of cum flooded your mouth, then the second, and the third. Your boyfriend trembled as you brought him down with slow, easy suckles around the head, happily drinking down his release. It tasted salty, but not enough to be gross, with the faintest hint of sweetness that you just knew was attributed to the pineapple juice he'd taken a liking to a year back.

"Fu-fuck," Legend's chest heaved as he watched you swallow his seed, looking very much like a man who had just seen the Goddess herself.

You licked your lips, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. "How was it?" the words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them, but you truly did want to know. You always wanted to make him feel good.

"It was amazing," Legend responded, voice deliciously breathy as he bent to plant a kiss on your forehead, one hand coming down to tenderly wipe a bit of cum from your cheek. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," you countered with a soft grin, and he rolled his eyes, patting the spot beside him. You happily stood up, idly stretching your sore joints before plopping down next to him, hands folded in your lap. They didn't stay that way for long, because he was suddenly pulling you into a deep kiss, uncaring of the taste on your tongue. "Mmph, Link–"

Legend's hands found your hips, kneading the soft flesh as your mouths melded together, unhurried and slow, just how you liked it. One hand crept up to cup your left breast, and you mewled when his mouth moved to ghost along the column of your neck. "You're incredible," he breathed into your flesh, leaving swathes of gooseflesh in his wake. "I mean it."

"I love you," you whispered through clenched teeth, because it was the only thing you could say. Because it was the only thing you would say. "Happy birthday, Link."

"You too, (Y/n)."

And he was kissing you again, hands roaming your back in search of the hidden zipper. Once located, he slowly tugged it down, dragging the calloused tips of his fingers down the curve of your spine as he went, eliciting shiver after shiver from your poor body. Your arms wrapped around his upper back, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his head, gently tugging at the blonde strands to coax a rumbled groan from his chest.

Legend's head dipped to the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking a deep bruise into the soft skin. You gasped softly when he delivered a playful nip to the affected flesh, the prick of his teeth sending shockwaves down to your very soaked core, which only grew more wet when several fingers bushed against the tail lodged inside you, toying with the furry addition. "Oh!"

"Is this alright?" he asked against your shoulder, and your heart swelled at the genuine concern in his tone.

"Mhm," you confirmed, shivering anew when the touches grew more serious, until he pulled it from you entirely with a lewd squelch. You hissed a breath through your teeth when a finger circled the rim of your ass, dipping in easily due to the lube. "Ah, Link–"

"It's okay," he hummed softly, moving up to kiss the shell of your ear, tongue darting out to lick the tip. "Tell me if it's too much."

Unlikely, but if he insisted. You had played around with that hole a few times before, though Legend was always sure to confirm that you were okay with it and not trying to mindlessly please him. While you didn't quite understand the concept, you were happy that he was checking, even if it got a bit silly, at times. A low groan left you when he added a second finger, slowly scissoring them against your walls. "Oh, Goddesses–"

Legend's lips found yours as his fingers worked, only replacing them with the plug when you began to shift your hips, grinding your wet core against his knee, a thin layer of slick coating the exposed skin. You whimpered at the action, and downright moaned when your swollen nub of a clit inadventatly grazed his knee bone. Fuck, that felt good. "Please, I need–!"

"I know," he soothed, gently dragging the bodysuit down to pool at your hips, revealing your skin to his half-lidded gaze. His head dipped down to mouth hickeys on the tops of your breasts, while your fingers returned to his hair, weaving into the soft blonde strands. "I got you."

"Y-Yeah?" You panted, feeling unfairly warm despite the chill of the outside weather. Legend nodded, laving his tongue over your right breast before delivering a tender bite. When you yelped, he pressed a soft kiss to the affected area. "Ah!"

When he was satisfied, Legend pressed more kisses to your chest, moving lower and lower with each passing second. Your grip on his hair tightened, drawing a soft hiss from the man, and you quickly loosened, murmuring apologies. He kissed your belly in response, hands trailing down your supple sides, passing over your ribs and eventually settling atop your hips, right where the fabric of the bodysuit was bunched. "Can I...?"

"Please," you breathed, core tightening with anticipation, and he didn't hesitate to yank the damp fabric down your legs, throwing it to the wayside before settling back between your legs. You scooted so that your back was flush against the armrest of the couch, thighs spread wide.

"You're gorgeous," he said as soon as you were situated, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses to your clit, eliciting a soft gasp. You waited for the next action, which would either be a long, flat lick up the length of your cunt or a trail of bites down your thigh, but neither came. In fact, he seemed a bit nervous. "Actually, could we...?"

Your face flushed when he laid on his back, hands raised expectantly. This was new, but you found yourself liking it. "Are you sure?" you asked, not wanting to crush him, especially with so much of your weight on his head and neck.

"Mhm," he confirmed, a bit shifty-eyed, yet still sincere. It wasn't often that he proposed new ideas in the bedroom, and you about to discourage his attempts, so you hesitantly scooted forward so that your hips were parallel with his face, hovering a few inches in the air while your hands planting themselves on his chest for stability.

Legend's breath ghosted over your core and you shuddered. "How do you–?"

"Just sit," he encouraged, hands applying gentle pressure to your thighs in an attempt to coax you down. "Like a chair."

You felt your brows furrow. Was that even safe, having that much pressure on those areas? Goddesses, you did not want to explain to the paramedics why he had broken his neck or skull if this went wrong. "But won't that–?"

"It's safe, don't worry," he interjected softly, tongue darting out to skim the barest edges of your folds, drawing a garbled moan from your chest. "Trust me, okay?"

"I am trusting you," you huffed, though you relented quickly when he tugged at your thighs, tone almost pleading.

"Please? Don't I get one birthday wish?"

You snorted, still hovering. "You're going to use your birthday wish to get me to sit on your face?"

"Yes," there was no hesitation from your boyfriend, and you found yourself laughing, all traces of nerves melting away as the sound rang through the house.

"Fine, fine," you relented. "But if it hurts or you need air, you tell me, okay?"

"Yes, dear," said Legend in a tone that made you want to (gently) smack him. The bastard was teasing you, but your irritation soon melted away when he leaned up, sealing his mouth around your pussy, and used the suction to drag you down a few inches. You went with a hissed breath, aided by the hands kneading into the flesh of your thighs, coaxing you to settle atop his face. "There you go," he mumbled, sending shockwaves through your folds. "Good?"

You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you nodded with an affirming noise, fingers digging slightly into his chest as you fought to stay upright in the face of the onslaught of pleasure. A low groan rumbled from your boyfriend's chest, his tongue sliding against your core like it belonged there. You bit your lip, eyeing his erection, which stood tall and proud, a bit of pre leaking onto the semi-defined muscles of his abdomen, and desire won out. You wrapped a shaky hand around the hard length, earning a muffled moan against your sex and a gentle bite to the crease of your inner thigh and hip, a warning that had your toes practically curling.

Legend's tongue slicked up and down, alternating between long, slow strokes to short, deft flicks that made your core burn with arousal. Your hips rocked–slowly, at first–as you ground yourself against his face, your nails imprinting thin white streaks across his skin. He didn't seem to mind, if the soft groans and appreciative sucks to your clit were any indication. Your voice rose, ringing through the room, and a hand detached from your thigh to cup one of your breasts, thumb flicking over your nipple until it grew hard enough to cut glass.

You responded by gripping his cock harder, beginning to pump the slick appendage in an attempt to give back what you were getting. It was his birthday, damnit!

His mouth moved to latch onto your nub once more, and your hips faltered. "Oh, fuck," you moaned unabashedly, back arching as molten heat swept through your core, igniting every nerve in your body. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. Your core clenched around nothing, and you would have felt embarrassed had his tongue not chosen that exact moment to dip between your folds, softly circling your entrance before worming inside, dragging deliciously against your inner walls. Your moans rose in pitch as your hands scrabbled at his chest, looking for something–anything–to ground yourself with.

Legend hummed, fondling your breast with purpose, intent on feeling you cum from his mouth alone. Sweat beaded on your brow when his tongue grazed that spongey spot within you, sending shockwaves up your spine, ricocheting against every little corner of your body. Your heart pounded like a drum in your heaving chest, just as a coil began to form in your belly. "Link," you whined, wishing you could grab his hair to pull him closer, but you settled with stroking him as best you could in your addled state. "Please, baby, 'm close–"

"I know," his voice, gruff from effort, vibrated deliciously against your center. The hand on your breast moved down to rub your achy clit, while the one on your thigh caught your own hand, holding it in a tender embrace. "Cum for me, love."

You did just that, wailing your release to the ceiling as it crashed down on you like a rogue waves, zings of pleasure swirling up your spine as your lower body threatened to buckle. Your thighs trembled impressively as your boyfriend worked you through it, lapping at your oversensitive folds until you were sure you were going to lose your mind. "Ah, Link, fuck, it's t-too much–!"

His mouth immediately popped off, though not before delivering one last lave to your poor clit. You hissed at the sensation, body practically folding in half as you collapsed onto his chest. "Oh my Hylia," you breathed when your lungs finally began cooperating again. "That was..."

"Delicious," Legend said, and you could just hear the smirk in his tone.

"Shut up," you groaned, regaining a bit of your lost composure. You rose, shifting your hips so that you were sitting on his abdomen, facing him. Legend sat up on his elbows, ears perked with interest, and his cock pressed hotly against the curve of your ass. "Do you want to keep going?"

At your question, he sat up fully, arms wrapping around your back and pulling you close. "What do you think?" Legend asked softly, head dipping to suck at one of the marks on your neck. You hummed, one hand weaving through his hair and tugging, encouraging him to meet your lips in a sweet kiss.

When you broke apart, panting softly, you grinned: "I love you."

Your boyfriend's eyes glimmered with adoration, and his grip tightened, inadvertently pushing your hips back against his straining dick. Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a low, needy moan, and you were fairly sure you could have cum untouched from the sound alone. "Please," he said in a tone that sounded suspiciously close to begging. "I want to feel you."

"How do you want it?"

Legend's face flushed, and you had to physically force yourself not to chuckle. It had taken a good few years to get him fully comfortable with expressing his desires in the bedroom, and, by Hylia, were you glad his only reservations now seemed to be a misplaced sense of embarrassment. For the Goddess' sake, you had dressed in a rabbit costume for his birthday, so you doubted anything he wanted would shock you. Still, you were happy to wait patiently, hands moving to his shoulders to knead the tense muscles.

"On top," he finally blurted, blush illuminating his cheeks. "Please."

"As you wish, Sir Bunny," you grinned, plating a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. Just because you were the one dressed up didn't mean that you couldn't have a bit of fun.

Your boyfriend didn't have time to laugh before you grabbed his length, giving it a few good pumps before angling the head against your dripping entrance and sinking down. The slide was easy, aided by the copious fluids, and the stretch was something that had your thighs trembling harshly, which only made the friction that much sweeter. A hand gripped your hip, softly guiding the process, but you hardly needed it, moaning long and loud when your hips met with a filthy squelch. "Ah– Link!"

Legend's breath shuddered against the shell of your ear. He nipped the cartilage, earning a soft gasp, before his hand entangled in your own hair, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You opened your month on instinct, allowing his tongue to explore to his heart's content. He was a former adventurer, after all. "Fuck," he breathed, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hip. "You feel so good. 'M not gonna last much longer."

"Me neither," you panted back, your previous activities leaving you more high-strung than a power line. You broke apart, whimpering when he sucked more marks down the column of your neck, occasionally scraping his teeth against tender, trembling skin. Your hips rose on their own accord, only stopping when the head of his dick was just barely within the warmth of your walls. Legend whined lowly, and you sank back down, practically mewling at the stretch.

You continued to move, finding a breakneck pace that had your thighs burning from exertion, though you rather liked it, a sense of urgency broiling in your gut as your boyfriend moaned beneath you, too far gone to bother muffling his noises. His thumb slipped between your legs to help you along, the rough pad stimulating your overstimulated clit until you could hardly think, hips moving up and down as if they had a mind of their own. "F-Fuck," your name fell from Legend's kiss-swollen lips, the look in his half-lidded eyes so full of need that you could have died happy. "Can I– inside?"

"Yes," you responded without missing a beat, a bit surprised by how hot the idea sounded. The thought of him painting your walls white drove you wild. Your hands dragged down his back as you slammed yourself down on him, the head of his cock jamming that one spot within you. "Link, I need you!"

Legend yanked you in for a kiss, and your orgasm hit like a freight train, with your vision actually whiting out for a second as waves of pleasure wracked through your poor, oversensitive body, threatening to tear you apart at the seams. You were dimly aware of the chocked sob escaping your throat, followed by scalding warmth as Legend's cum filled you, thick and slick. The hand in your hair tightened, keeping you in place to meet the slight roll of his hips, prolonging your pleasure until there was nothing left.

After what felt like an eternity, you parted, panting like you had run a marathon. You met his gaze through your lashes, forcing yourself to breathe as the fog of arousal began to recede, leaving you boneless and satisfied. Legend's face was flushed a deep red, the color swooping down to paint his shoulders and chest. He was so beautiful, even while flushed, sweaty, and covered in fluids, still half-hard inside you.

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah."

Legend smiled weakly, and you took the opportunity to cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing soft circles over his flesh. Your lips met, and it was as perfect as you wanted. When you parted, there was a new, more coherent expression on his face: nervousness.

You blinked, concern etched across your face. "Honey, are you--?"

"Marry me," he blurted, and the world stopped. Your mouth actually fell open, jaw slack as you processed his words. You had always assumed he was fine with dating–it wasn't like you needed a piece of paper and fancy ceremony to prove you loved each other–but yet...

"Oh my goddesses," you breathed, and his face fell a bit.

"I'm sorry," he said in a tone that made you wanna to throw up. "I should have waited– you can pretend I never–"

Your heart actually withered and you struggled to correct the situation. "NO. No. Um. Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"

"You will?" the light returned to his eyes and every nerve in your body rejoiced when his hold tightened around you, betraying his bolstering excitement. Blue eyes glimmered. "You mean it?"

"Mhm," you nodded, injecting as much sincerity as you could in your response. "Let's get married, Link."

He kissed you, and it was everything you could have asked for; not needy or hungry, but soft, tender, a joining as old as time itself.

It was everything.

He was everything.

"I love you," Legend spoke when you broke apart, holding you to his chest like he was scared of letting go. "So much. Thank you."

You locked gazes with him and smiled. "I love you too."

You may not have been the best with remembering birthdays, but now, you had the rest of your life to make it up to him.

As you can see, I'm taking my ES/Bio major very seriously in these fics.

The ending is a bit rushed, but I'll come back and edit it tonight <33

[borderlinereminders]

I’ve seen you talk about conflicting needs. Can you give an example? So much of the internet just pushed that you should look out for you and your needs and I don’t know id like to understand it more

Sometimes when we go to put up boundaries, we realize that our needs are conflicting with the other person. Usually when this happens, we can try to compromise and come up with solutions together. And sometimes, depending on what it is, we might not engage in a certain activity or relationship anymore. The point of the following example is to try and encourage problem solving and not seeing things as exclusively black and white. When we approach conflict with a "I'm right, and you're wrong" attitude, usually no one wins and a lot of times there are ways to be considerate of others while making sure our own needs are met.

The goal is to try and teach your brain to look for solutions to things, and not see them exclusively in black and white.

I’m going to pose the following example to you:

Two roommates live together. Due to their schedules, they are usually home at the same times. One roommate needs complete silence to study, and the other roommate needs to play music or calming nature sounds to focus. This has created a conflict in their living situation. The roommate who cannot stand any sounds while studying thinks they have a right to a quiet space and really wants to tell the other roommate they can't play music or sounds at all, but they realize this is a shared space and that isn’t fair since they both have equal rights to the space. They realize that coming up with a compromise is better for both of them.

Then think about these questions in regards to the example:

What is a good way for the roommate to approach the other roommate?

This approach should be non accusatory, not aggressive and be direct.

Example of what I might say “While I understand that noise helps you study, it makes it really hard for me to study. Can we discuss a compromise so that we can both be able to study?”

What are potential solutions the roommate can think of to propose?

The solutions should take into accounts the needs of both parties.

Some possibilities might include one roommate getting noise cancelling headphones or the other getting headphones (or a bit of both to make it fair or maybe one of them gets a set and they split the cost to make it fair) or designated study times where they take turns with silence and noise.

It’s possible that the solution doesn’t work for the roommate. Maybe their disorder makes it hard to stick to planned study times, or maybe they have sensory issues with having things touching their ears. If that happens, then it’s time to see if there’s a compromise within the solution or whether another solution should be suggested.

There might be a case where a solution is avoiding something. Like for example, one friend needs subtitles because of auditory processing issues. One friend can’t have subtitles because they’re too distracting and make it impossible for them to watch the movie. In a situation like this, the friends might not watch movies together and instead find other activities they can enjoy together.

[hryniewiecki]

Grand Arcane S2 review

because I really need it to move on

Remember how I mentioned I could write an entire book about everything that went wrong with this season? Well, this is what a little excerpt from it would look like.

Let's start with a personal note to clarify my relationship with this hell of a piece of media.

S1 was this miracle show that was able to break through the several years of depression and anhedonia and make me interested in something, make me try to get back into making art (or at least try to try), to put myself out there on the internet a bit, to try be a part of something and not ashamed of enjoying it, which I never allowed myself before. Coincidentally, I've been at what I thought then was the worst place in my life when it aired and it helped me a lot to get through it. I didn't even think I would make it to see S2, as thee years felt like forever then. Taking all that into consideration, I think you can already tell where this is going.

I honestly thought I was prepared for S2 not being good, as no show could be this perfect. Turns out I wasn't prepared at all. Act 1 made me very happy, so happy I watched it two times, but the rest is something I would've never watch again and rather forget about.

The characters I wanted to see the most were Warwick (body horror, The Wrath of Zaun haunting the streets - got just a glimpse of that, but it felt like nothing) and Viktor (cyborgs and cyber gore, misunderstood idealist, Blitzcrank - got basically nothing; the idea was kinda there somewhere, but got changed so much it didn't matter at all).

I can't believe they took a godforsaken champion like Viktor and not only ruined his story completely, but also managed to fuck up everything else by all of a sudden making him a center of all of this mess. The center being the arcane/hextech/magic, which never even gets resolved/explained. Still no idea why it got corrupted and what was the nature of it; the void was never taken anywhere despite being heavily hinted - everything was evil because it was, but luckily the magic of friendship saved us!! (I'll get to that)

Speaking of crucial plotlines that weren't taken anywhere.. Basically every character got screwed over and made empty. Let's use Vi for a quick example (may not actually be the best example, but hopefully you'll get what I mean) - when I saw the pit fighter scene released early, I expected to see it have a continuation in the show, but instead it ended up just being the exact same music video, nothing more. And that goes for some more events - they get compressed into music videos that make it all incredibly hollow. Fight scenes are fine like this, sure, but not something that was supposed to be a bit more emotional and serious. Anyway, they successfully made me hate most of the characters. Either hate or just straight up not recognize them, and in a bad way.

Long story short the pacing is awful (it only gets back to normal in ep7, as it resembles the structure of S1) and the writing sucks ass. I can't for the love of god believe it was written alongside S1. There's no way in hell - it's literally all the worst fan theories I've seen come to life and get mixed with fanservice. *puts on a tinfoil hat* Maybe this is the real why they needed an extra year or two, as S2 was initially supposed to be released earlier. No way in hell the same people who wrote S1 and cared so much about the characters would do anything like this. Riot must've gotten heavily involved, making us believe they cut the story short (I think 5 seasons in Piltover/Zaun were planned initially?) for the benefit of it, but all it really was is greed - let's make a bunch of bullshit happen and quickly move to another region to sell more skins for new champions.

Now let's get back to the ending. Man, it really had it all - the nonsense, the multiverse bullshit which basically makes nothing make sense anymore (if there was anything left), the (yes, I'm going to say it, because that's exactly what I felt) cringe and embarrassment. Never seen anything more hollow trying to convince me it was deep and emotional (sums up the whole show perfectly).

How the hell the only thing that was supposed to save Viktor from himself was Jayce telling him he's perfect the way he is? Sure, don't try to cure your illness (that my city caused, but "fortunately" another crucial part of the plot, which is the sister cities conflict, ceased to exist), it makes you beautiful, this is who you are (miserable, unwanted, feeling meaningless and like a burden, dying). I am at loss of words.

Now buckle up jayvik fans. I wasn't a fan of the ship as I'm not a fan of any ships in general, but now I despise it. I wouldn't mind if they actually went on with it, which no, they didn't. We don't want two men kissing (women making out is fine tho, won't make the gamers too angry), so let's play extra safe to make sure it could be explained as any type of other close bond (and that's exactly what Christian Linke does when asked about it). You disgusting cowards, either you show me this in plain sight and I wouldn't give it a second thought, or don't even try bring it up at all (and you can't deny it wasn't implied in S1 with all the Viktor's looks and parallels to Mel).

Where do I even begin? Because I don't think you have any idea on how many levels it actually sucks. If you read it as romantic it's basically telling me that if I was a gay man struggling with my feelings and not being able to confess for years, because I'm convinced I'm unworthy of love as something is inherently wrong with me, then the best I could get after surviving all this (what honestly seems like hell) is a hug, because you're ashamed of me and thus I should be ashamed of who I am till the very end.

Something equally bad is Jayce finding out (or rather we finding out) how wonderful the world could look like if he let go of his beautiful dream, his life's work, and killed himself - it never gets denied, as the corruption of hextech doesn't get explained.

Long story short, if you're struggling with your mental health, trauma issues, disability or any of the problems the characters you related to deal with, this show spits you in the face.

I could go on forever about everything that's wrong (even Jinx got played dirty), but let's finish with the few things I liked: act 1 was promising (it's when I believed they could still make sense of Viktor), fun Sevika's arcade arm fight, the epic fight at the Janna's temple (Woodkid goat), Jayce killing Salo (I felt something) and Jayce's glitchy madness in general, young Vander flashback (felt something), ep7 and Singed's story (the only one that makes any sense).

Other than that the show left me with nothing but void in my heart (I guess that's when it all went). The saddest thing being the masses love it anyway, as it seems they'll watch anything that's colorful enough. And Riot will make lots of money of off it, because in the end they never loose. I'm not denying Fortiche absolutely outdid themselves with the art, it's just heartbreaking nothing else even remotely stands up to it.

[draconicred]

Experiences in the Alterhuman Community (and Beyond) as a Fictive

It's a weird experience being a fictional character, especially dealing with fandom, the fact that your source is fictional, and interactions with people based on that--including some of the dehumanisation that's so common toward fictionfolk. I'm gonna go into that here because I need somwhere to collect my thoughts, so this might get long. I'll be talking about my experiences as a fictive, but this could very well apply to anyone who identifies as a fictional being--fictionkin, fictionlinkers, etc.

So, I see the version of me on the screen as an AU version of me, in short. I mean, I'm me, and I don't think I even looked exactly 1:1 with my canon self--so naturally, even though events line up pretty closely, I see my source as... Almost like a fanfic of my life? Like sure, that's decidedly me, and decidedly a lot of the things that happened to me and my friends, but also not me. I'm not that guy on the screen, he's what represents me.

Even though I fully believe I got here by dying in a literal past life, my source media here is absolutely fictional to me and I just... Don't look at it in really any other way. Which I guess makes sense if you put it into my perspective--what else would it be? It really is like reading a fanfic based on your life though, or reading an article about yourself in the news. A bit of a shock, a bit of "why did they include THAT?" sprinkled in here and there, a bit awkward sometimes, and it does tend to resurface bad feelings. But overall, it's not that personal to me. I'm largely fine with it existing.

On the other hand, what is shocking is that people see me as fictional. I'm a fictional introject, from a fictional source, from the perspectives of a lot of people here. But I look at my source and I go well... Yeah, that's fiction of course, but my life is an actual thing that happened to me. Realistically I know that not everyone has spiritual beliefs and not everyone even accepts fictional identities as something "real", but man is it weird to just... Have it be spun in such a way?

I'm used to being in the media, I'm used to having cameras on me and being in the public eye. I'm used to articles and stories and posts on the internet. I'm used to fans even! But this isn't your regular, run-of-the-mill experience of people wanting to know you because you're a hero. This is people who see your life and experiences as a fun story they saw in a book or on TV, coming up to you with the idea that you're their favourite character, and not... A whole entire person. It's so damn weird.

There's still that level of disrespect that comes from people who are a little parasocial with you, but it almost hits deeper here because a lot of the time, you know they're not seeing a hero or the things you've literally done in your memories. They're seeing that guy on the screen they think is cool, and while he represents you, he's not you. And they're treating you like a celebrity because of that weird fanfic version of you on the TV or in that book.

There's usually little acknowledgement of your life or experiences as "real". When you're presenting as your fictional identity around others, you tend to get put into one of a few camps:

Cool Character from Media who I love and adore and want to talk to (and will probably get fanperson excited about it). I will probably get dispraportionally upset if Character tells me to back off a bit because I don't want my blorbo to be mad at me.

Character from Media I'm in love with and will immediately start asking invasive questions to or outright flirting with. Could get real gross real quick.

Problematic Character or Guy From Problematic Media that I instantly dislike because that's so Problematic how dare you show your face. I'm reporting you for being Character, you should change your identity if you want to exist so bad.

Character from Media who is disabled/queer/mentally ill/has any soft personality trait ever and I will now be treating you like a sweet little babyboy cinnamon roll who could not hurt a fly.

Person who identifies as Character? How interesting! I'm going to really pry and question everything from your actions in-source (to get unique perspectives from Character) and question literally everything else. Because this is Science and I'll get mad if you don't tell me everything, you need to tell me everything or you're rude.

Of course there's nuance and there's absolutely times where you'll be treated as a normal person, but the above are... So damn common. I've been here for a few months and I've already had some weird stuff happen to me simply because I'm Kirishima and people feel entitled to give me cutesy nicknames or whatever. Even without knowing me or my system at all beforehand. It's just.. So different from anything I've experienced before? Being treated like a celebrity is dehumanising enough, but being treated like a character.ai bot or just generally a form of free entertainment and not a person is so perplexing to me.

There's also that if you're from a popular source, you see stuff about yourself everywhere. Posters, plushies, advertisements, posts on social media--all of it. Some of that I'm used to already, but it's kind of weird when you're mentally aware that this is all for that twisted-mirror version of yourself and not you. And if you get a little uncomfortable at some fanart showing up out of the blue, or someone making a source related joke... You're kind of just expected to brush it off. Which yeah, I get it! It's about the source, not me, but it's still just... A weird feeling. A feeling of not being allowed to be upset because it's about the source and not literal you.

I think there needs to be a line, maybe. Not saying that fictives should be putting a stop to any media or fandom ever, just.. That maybe respect toward us for being uncomfortable with fan content due to being a fictive or fictionkin should be more normalised. It should be more okay to say "hey, I'm Character, please don't joke like that" to a friend, or "don't send me fanart of this thing, I'm Character and that's weird"--which it normally is! But there does tend to be a sort of layer of "Oh, it's because you're Character. You know that's not you, right? You shouldn't be upset, you need to source separate more."--when if most other people were to set a boundary like that, it would usually be respected. Source separation can be great, but if someone hasn't separated or doesn't want to, why is it okay to still send them material they're uncomfortable with--or at least, why do people tend to argue that the fictive should "just separate from source" instead? It... Just boils down to alterhumisia toward fictionfolk, honestly. It sucks.

There's a lot of problems with basic respect toward fictionfolk of all kinds--hell, even in the alterhuman community where it's meant to be safe. I don't know if this rant is entirely coherent or not, I don't know if there's anything noteworthy to take from it--but if you do take something from it, let it be that fictionfolk want to be treated like people. Source separated, not source separated, canon divergent or compliant, hearted, linker, 'kin or 'tive--we're people. Don't let our identities change the way you instinctually treat us. Let us be openly us, and treat us as you would anyone else.

[togglesbloggle]

In Defense of Bad Things

'Bad' here meaning mostly 'amateur'; stuff made enthusiastically by people at an unprofessional level. Art with visible gaps between what the artist imagined and what they achieved, products of flawed craftsmanship. I suppose everybody can appreciate them to some extent, it's a rare parent that doesn't put up their kid's drawings on the fridge in one way or another. But it turns out to be a fully general skill you can cultivate, and the more I do, the more I'm glad I did.

Partly, it's the teacher thing; finding delight in amateur work is one of the ways to find delight in the process of learning. Cultivating a love of striving-qua-striving can help make you a force for good in the world, as people start to feel safe trying to do things when you're around, even when their efforts are wobbly. You get to participate a little more in the process of atoms spinning themselves into ideas, even when there aren't any illusions about whether you're helping cultivate some revolutionary genius in the field.

And partly it's a fabulous way to build community. By necessity, our professional-level skills tend to be at the service of other people, performed for economic benefit; that's kind of how you get professionally good at something in the first place. When we're acting for our own sake, and among friends, most of what we do with one another is amateurish. I only cook middling-okay, I can't hold a tune that well, I'll never be a speed runner for anything. If you can only enjoy singing from the hundred best singers in the whole world, manufactured and polished by major studios, then you and your friends will sit shoulder-to-shoulder and passively listen to music. But it's so much richer an experience to sit face-to-face, actually singing together, even badly; you expose yourself to so many new ways to appreciate and respect one another, building relationships on what you've accomplished and not just by witty criticism or liking the same things.

And partly it's because some of the most powerful and innovative artistic experiences are in high-churn environments with low expectations and low barriers to entry, if only because those catch the passionate and driven young people that have been otherwise overlooked by our systems. The golden age of webcomics meant that a ton of the actual art involved was pretty lousy, but it also produced work that people still talk about today. D&D began as a profoundly unpolished collection of handmade rulebooks sold at cons in a plastic baggie. By the time these products of enthusiastic amateurs filter themselves through various levels of popularity and absorb mainstream cash influx, they're often risk-averse and missing a lot of the bold spark that inspired their fans in the first place; others will simply never drift towards the mainstream at all. I'm not saying you should be the person who goes out to dig through the slush piles of the internet looking for overlooked art, unless you want to be-- but sometimes a work of actual staggering genius also happens to be a Supernatural fanfic by a first-time author who's a little hazy on commas, and if that's a dealbreaker, you're going to miss out on some profoundly valuable experiences.

And hiding behind all of these things is, like...

Our appreciation of beauty has an odd structure, right? When things are done very skillfully, by brilliant artists with years of training, we can usually appreciate those accomplishments. And when we're looking at nature without human influence, and especially when we think very deeply about natural processes and understand them in context, we often rediscover that sense of beauty. There's just this bizarre hole in the middle where we declare things 'ugly'; as if a little skill is worse than none at all.

I really don't trust that gap. It feels like a trick my brain is playing on me, you know? It has me suspicious that a lot of what I consider 'ugly' or 'bad' is not a very direct experience of the world at all, or an informed judgment. That it is, rather, a declaration of (self-, social-) identity; a desire to be seen as a person of good taste, or as somebody who does things well, or just more primitively as one of the monkeys who is in the good-stuff-tribe and not one of the monkeys who is in the bad-stuff-tribe.

[missmeinyourbones]

L, pro athlete atsumu and reader for "the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife" has me THINKING

ONE NIGHT OR A WIFE (a. miya)

a/n: pro athlete atsumu, implied woman identifying reader -> slight talks of womanhood and slut-shaming, atsumu is trying so hard he has the spirit he’s just ken

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

When the front door clicks behind you,  you're greeted with the back of a messy blonde mop peeking from above the lip of the couch. Atsumu doesn't have to turn around to know it's you coming through the door, but you don't even give him a chance to guess with the immediate interrogation flying from your lips.

"Why are we trending on Twitter?"

Amused, Atsumu turns around to catch a glimpse of your panicked face before he smirks, turning around and redirecting his attention back to the television.

"Oh, they think I proposed to you again."

His words oddly bring a wave of comfort over you, and when you exhale and plop down on the cushion next to his sprawled-out limbs, he lets his hand gently run through your frizzy hair.

And you don't pretend to ignore how it's weird that this calms you—that enough people on the internet typed and searched and chatted about the two of you to get it trending. How many people need to talk about something for it to trend worldwide? You think about googling it, but that's a headache waiting to happen.

Instead, you slump into his touch and try to keep your tone humorous when you ask, "On what grounds this time?"

Atsumu is now far from affected by the newlywed allegation, as this isn't the first (or second) time the media thinks he's popped the question to you. You always feel a bit warm when remembering the first time the rumor spiraled. How flustered he was, how he couldn’t meet your eye when opening the app for weeks, how it led to your first actual conversation about a future together. 

Now immune to the gossip, he casually fishes for his phone in his sweatpants and lazily pulls up a paparazzi photo of the two of you leaving dinner a few nights ago.

"Here," he hands the screen to you, borderline yawning. “This picture from the other night,” he has the audacity to point knowingly, like it’s common sense when he says, "left hand is hidden in yer jacket pocket."

You guess he is right, your left hand is tucked away into your coat in the photo, but that's because it's almost winter, and you're human, despite what some may argue.

The photo itself isn't even anything crazy—a candid shot of the two of you walking to the car. Atsumu's hand is on your back, seemingly guiding you as you walk along the curb. Your right hand rests on your purse, and your left apparently hides a flashy diamond ring in the suede of your pocket.

Atsumu hears you scoff at the stupidity, "So naturally that means I'm your wife now?"

He smiles and scratches your head with loving fingers.

"Yup," he pops the last part of the word before looking over to you with a grin. "Apparently the rock was so big, it had to be hidden in fear of blindin' the paparazzi."

He’s teasing, it’s lighthearted, but your eyes don't leave the photo when you softly furrow your brow.

"Why do they keep assuming we're engaged?" you lowly mumble, to him or yourself, Atsumu doesn't know, but he hears it all the same. Your voice almost wavers when you weakly exhale, "This is like the fourth time."

Carefully, as if you’re suddenly made of glass, Atsumu pulls the phone from your grasp, and you don't put up a fight when he easily swipes it and shimmies it back into his pocket.

"Dunno baby,” his voice whispers as his hand finds your shoulder. “People like to talk. I can't even begin to name the craziest rumors I've heard about me."

You hum to let him know you're listening, but when you don't elaborate much more than that, Atsumu knows something isn't quite right.

Not one to let his thoughts spiral, he thinks for all about two seconds before deciding that he’s getting to the bottom of this.

He tries to act like a normal person, stretching his arms and casually asking, "Does it bother you or somethin’?"

You're quiet for a moment like you're thinking extra hard about what to say. And when you do take a deep inhale and open your mouth, Atsumu feels a bit queasy.

"In a way," is all you allow to come out.

In a way? Atsumu doesn't know what to do with that. That could mean a million things. In what way? A good one? A terrible one? A way that makes you mad at him, at the world, at yourself? He needs more from you, but he’s too afraid to ask. 

You think a part of you breaks when his big brown eyes water a bit, but the tears are quickly blinked away through long lashes when he shakes his head.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way."

You shift to sit up on your knees a bit, gently touching his jaw that's clenched to the touch. "Hey, hey no,” you watch him tilt his sour face away from you when you coo, “Not like that, don't apologize."

With the slightest pressure on his cheek, you're able to get him to face you again, where you're met with a grouchy pout and some slight hostility. 

You feel his jaw twitch and unclench when you place a delicate kiss on the carved bone. Your voice is soft, cautious when it rises to elaborate.

"People thinking we're married isn't what bothers me," you gently breathe. "We've talked about it, right? We're just not ready yet."

True, he thinks, logic returning to his clouded thoughts. Atsumu nods at your words, though his eyebrows are still downturned with stress.

"Right. So what does bother ya about it?"

He watches you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right way to say the right words, but there really isn't a tailored combination for the sticky conversation at hand. He almost thinks you give up until your hand tenderly rubs his stiff neck and your voice comes out barely a whisper.

"It can be tough sometimes," your voice wavers with uncertainty, "y'know, being a woman associated with someone like you."

Atsumu turns his head to you in confusion, but he doesn't say anything. Because he trusts you—he might not understand, but he trusts that you do, that you're aware of something he might not be, and that you can explain it in a way he might be able to grasp.

He watches you shy in the slightest, struggling in silence with your tongue.

"I'm either slut shamed for being someone just fucking you or written off as your property. There's never really an in-between, y’know?" you choose to shrug. 

Atsumu shoots you a sympathetic tight-lipped smile because though he'd never agree, he's not stupid. He knows what people can say about you, sees the headlines and hashtags every now and then.

"Y'know," his voice comes uncharacteristically soft, "one time I read that I flunked out of high school."

Your eyebrows raise at the turn in conversation, "Did you?"

"No," he scoffs. "Wasn't a nerd or anythin' but I graduated like everybody else."

You hum in thought at his confession, but it doesn’t seem to get his point across so he continues. "One said I was on steroids, another said pills."

He takes a small amount of pride in the way your frown slightly quirks up at the corners.

"Please,” you huff out a breathy scoff, “you pout like a baby when you get your blood drawn and can barely keep up with your daily vitamins."

He fights off a smile, ignoring the teasing and resting his head on yours as he goes on.

"My favorite was that one theory that me and 'Samu switch lives regularly. Sometimes when I look a little pudgy, they claim it's him with bleached hair, so we can both live out the Olympic dream."

You actually laugh at that, a real one, and Astumu thinks the sound itself could make flowers bloom and storm clouds disperse.

"Well that one can't be true, you can't cook for shit," he hears you mumble against his neck. 

"Hey now," he gently smacks your thigh at your fresh words. "The point is that people say things all the damn time and I know it's not really the same as what they say about you, but..."

His tongue falters at the touchy subject, a hill he knows he’ll never conquer but is willing to die trying to defend you on.

He thinks for a moment before saying with certainty, "But we both know what's true and what isn't, right?"

You angle your neck to look up at him with sarcasm. "And what's true? That you're a healthy high school graduate with a twin brother who doesn't play Parent Trap with you?"

"What's true," he whines a bit, flicking your forehead before placing a small kiss on it, "is that I love you, and I'm absolutely marryin' you, just when the time is right."

You melt, both at his touch and his words, and for once in his life, Atsumu knows he's said the right thing when he feels you lean onto him a bit more. He takes on the comfortable weight like an Olympic medal, one he’d proudly wear everywhere if he could.

And as Atsumu goes on and on, your night gets that much better, and the silly rumor from some stupid tabloid doesn’t seem nearly as important as it did when you first got home.

"And yer ring is gonna be bigger than whatever the paparazzi imagined. And they'll be pissed when they find out we eloped and they missed the ceremony pics. And when we actually trend on Twitter for the right reason—"

[lufyuu]

how would your ocs react to reader trying to make videos/tiktoks with them maybe its pranks or just dancing

-👅

I went a bit overboard with Hyunwoo's..

Eun Hyunwoo

As an idol, it's natural you'd ulpoad dance videos once in a while. Sometimes collabing with other idols or maybe with your own group members! But let's say for this particular dance challenge, you asked Hyunwoo to do it with you. He'd be hesitant at first but with a few 'please's, he'd agree. Unfortunately for this poor soul, he wouldn't know it was a...explicit kind of dance. Not too explicit but there would be tension between the two dancers which happens to be you and Hyunwoo. The poor photographer would be super flustered while learning the dance with you. Constantly stumbling all over the place. Despite all that, he would probably learn the dance pretty quickly. I'd imagine the video would go instantly viral when released. Even if Hyunwoo donned a mask, the way he'd look at you would have people wondering if he was just really good at acting or if there was something going on behind the scenes. Not only that, some would most likely start to speculate it was an upcoming trainee due to how good his dancing and visuals are. Mans would be so flustered being showered with praises by thousands of people. What started off as him wanting to help you film something, would turn into him becoming an overnight sensation.

River Sterling

Typical uni students, filming dances and pranks to upload in hopes of going viral one day. Though, River doesn't have to try as he always gets what he wants. If you asked him to film a dance together, he'd be quick to pick the dance. It'd either be the silliest or...you get where I'm going with this. I'd say he's an average dancer, not too good nor too bad. Just know the two of you blows up on the internet due to his charms and your skills. Well at least compared to him, you'd look like the better dancer. Or maybe it's on purpose?

Liu Zihao

Not a chance. I think we all expected this, he's a known and respected judge, there's no way he'd film a video, let alone a dance video or prank video. Liu Zihao is not the type to get all silly just because his significant other asked. Also he's a really, really bad dancer. (Unless you're talking about classical dances)

Han Minho

Pretty similar to Zihao's, Minho's really stiff when it comes to dancing. He'd rather die than make a fool out of himself. But, he is willing so long as you dont post it. Ever.

Xu Renfeng

Oh he definitely knows how to dance. Xu Renfeng specilizes in traditional chinese dances. His moves are really elegant. Filming videos depends on IF you have a phone since it's set in the ancient times. Renfeng has learned how to dance since he was a child due to the pressure put on him to be a perfect child. If you were to ask him to dance, he'd gladly oblige. Despite being pressured to do so in the past, he has grown fond of dancing and would love to show it off to his beloved.

Vaelius Luminayre

Even though he's a prince, he barely knows how to dance apart from waltz. It's the only one he can do. If you want to post a tiktok dancing with him, you'd better hide the camera well. Then, ask him for a dance in the empty and dimly lit ballroom. Vaelius' moves are graceful as they should be while you stumble around. After that, maybe upload it to a anonymous account or whatnot since you're now the Imperial Highness. I'd imagine people would go crazy over how lovingly he holds your hand and waist, how he dipped you, his hand firmly around your waist, stablizing you as he looked deeply into your eyes. Of course the viewers cant see his eyes, only a silhouette but they can kind of guess what kind of look he has in his eyes. Even of it's just the emperor and his Imperial highness' silhouettes shown, people go crazy over the video.

[ahappydnp]

philm club rewatch #1

phil 7/21/12

detailed timestamp notes below the cut but my overall summary thoughts are

you could tell phil was still getting into the groove of liveshows so it's a little awkward and slow going in the first 15 minutes are so with lots of shoutouts and showing the camera random things. liveshows got sooo much better after just a year or so it's fascinating to watch them getting comfortable

mind boggling to think back to a time they were willing to show up to fan meetups and then made a point to state publicly why they weren't there AND share their location so openly constantly (obviously they were about to move but STILL they showed the outside of their flat So Much back then)

the juxtaposition of how naturally comfortable they were with each other (stealing hats, sharing food, having their little jokes and songs) vs. them remembering the chat and having to recalibrate (i don't want to procreate with you)

i'm gonna be sooooo real i still spent the entire hour kicking my legs and twirling my hair and having to pause to compose myself because that's my phil like that was my guy and it brought back all those giddy feelings :3

i love them both so dearly and i love that era despite the bad rep it gets in fandom now because it was also so exciting and new but they were growing up together and taking on the world like 2012 WAS dnp vs. the world and dnp won <3333

0:28- agrees to marry a girl and a boy

1:38- final broadcast from manchester!! moving to london

2:40- stressed bc logistics for moving (he’s trying to be a grown up). interesting that he is taking the reigns on coordinating and not dan 

6:27- PIGEON NOISE MY BELOVED

8:50- phil refers to processed ingredients as “skanky stuff”. sure. 

11:59- he's gonna put lion in his backpack during the move 😭😭 he doesn’t want to lose him

15:01- dan jumpscare popping into defending phil for not showing up to a meet up 

16:21- dan gives him an A star….girl

21:30- american phil i haaaaate it i hate it i hate it

21:57- “everyone just says awkward for everything now” okay this but now everyone says “help??” in the replies of every tweet WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

22:35- cornelia playing harpsichord at phil’s parents 

24:42- phil attempts a guest broadcast with a fan and he’s being so cute despite the horrors

28:42- they’re going to see muse again 😭😭 

30ish- fanfiction segment i love his brain

33:55- dan gets caught playing gw2 and not packing asdfghjl. omg their apartment is a mess they stress me out 

34:39- the way they used to show off their exact locations was truly a time like girl internet safety!!

35:21- he still wants to call his children jack and emily (cuts quickly to mo and slyvester lester joke and i won’t think too hard about what that means with this also being the era of dan being SO deadset on having 2 or 3 children like god they were just babies with dreams)

37:14- phil thinks max the guest is australian and has The Biggest Grin phil you slag ilysm and now he’s promoting him hard lmao

39:57- drawing game. he went too fast i couldn’t keep up so i stopped. unfortunate slur from the chat. 

44:38- had to check his tumblr archive to see the kstew gif he mentioned and found a mv a fan did of the manchester flat to i will always love you phil reblogged (phannies never change)

45:27- sneak peak of the “new” apartment WHAT IF I SOBBED!!!! the first london flat…god they had no idea what’s coming and all the things that will happen in that house ;___; living with danisnotonfire who is through that wall and Not Packing (married babies)

46:24- NEW I LOVE YOU FOR THE ILY SPREASHEET FUCK YEAH!!!

46:41- he’s getting a bit annoyed at the go get dan comments and it’s such a specific shift in vibes which makes sense because this was younow and god knows what that chat was also saying 

48:57- omg it’s danisnotonfire! what are you doing here get out of my house (you’re the same person dot gif) also sooo funny they already had their sides™️

50:36- that iconic dan hair push up and swoop is simultaneously the most comforting/nostalgic and single most anxiety inducing motion of all time

52ish- they’re sooo low energy in this one but it’s still comforting 

53:35- these two…

57:52- phil putting things on dans head because of course he does and taking dans thing because of course he does

58:00- i am not immune to phil in the trapper hat. 

58:24- them seeing all the screenshots and immediately making jokes (fun little note for those who don’t know is younow would have a pop up everytime someone took a snapshot so they knew every time they were being archived which had to have been a specific kind of hell and also what a shit feature??) their skin molecules are touching 

1:01:48- quite possibly the single most controversial shirt dan has ever owned. people haaaatedddd it for years (now im just soft bc its nostalgic)

1:04:06- dan and alexander mcqueen 4ever truly lmao also phil immediately having an opinion on the one he liked dan in better 

1:04:44- "dan played it on repeat all yesterday" “whenever i get sad i listen to it” :(( dan

1:05:15- dans fashion opinions haven’t changed and also the start of them being So conscious of revealing what they spend their money on because fans “didn’t like” when they spent a lot of money on things

1:05:46- we made it an hour before they read a gay comment but he’s handling it better than usual. phil saying “ don’t go there”

1:08:05- dan is STILL yapping about the hat god i love him he simply must elucidate 

1:09:29- aweeee a fanboy <333 he’s their love child (except dan reminds phil they’re not down to procreate with each other)

1:10:24- i love that phil has always thrown a random question at people to ease the tension like it’s suuuch a phil thing to ask what your worst fear is when you’re feeling awkward