#Was really just navigating on vibes for months here.

[itmeblog]

*borrows a cozy romantasy book*

*is immediately dismayed by how much it romances and how little it cozies*

I just want low stakes fantasy... *and* now that I've finally put it into words, it just occurred to me that that exists outside the romance category. IM FREE!

[crescenthistory]

heyyyy I’m just so in love with how you write Barty so I wanted to do two request if that’s okay! B6 and D8 (if it is with the series you already making even better!) and I love your writing I so much🤍🤍

hi lovie, thank you for your support<3 i've already written for both of these prompts, so i kinda reworked this, but kept the general vibe of sleepiness and fluff and the dynamic

Words: 2k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, remus pov near the full moon so joint aches and lots of anxiety, breaking curfew, I Need Everyone Near So I Can Protect Them mindset, some minor suggestive quips, background wolfstar, just fluff really

Note: part of the grumpy!reader universe, set after the reveal to friends in and what about it?, but can be read as a stand alone drabble<3

The nearer the full moon crept, the deeper Remus’ protectiveness seemed to root itself into his heart, spreading out into his bloodstream. A wolfish instinct, if you could call it that, to keep his pack close. If his friends were out of his line of sight or, even worse, out of reach for his smell, anxiety burst through Remus’ body until he was left jittery and dizzy. 

That left him in the Gryffindor common room, a good 20 minutes after curfew on a Thursday evening, leg bouncing restlessly as he watched the portrait hole with hollow eyes. 

Sirius beside him had a hand on his knee, originally intended to quell its tremor, and once he realised that would not happen, it remained there as a support. The black haired boy seemed largely unbothered by everything, but the tension in his body betrayed him – though Remus was growing suspicious he was worried about something entirely different than he was. Namely, about him.

Across from them, James was draped over a grandfather chair, head repeatedly falling as he nodded off before he jerked himself back awake.

“How much longer are we going to stay here, Moons?” he managed to get out in between yawns, already worn out from quidditch practice earlier.

“Until our friend is safe in bed.” Remus squared his shoulders haughtily, leaving no room for argument. Then, “Where is she?” he muttered to himself, so quietly Sirius only barely caught it and had to fight back his sympathetic coo.

“She is fine, baby,” he whispered, the hand on his knee shaking it slightly. “It’s not the first time she’s staying out late. Hells, we do it all the time, too!”

And Remus knew that. Of course he knew that. Every other time of the month, that knowledge would have allowed him to shake his head fondly at your antics, heading off to bed excited to hear about your adventures tomorrow.

Alas; this was not any other time of the month.

“I should go find her,” Remus thought out loud, groaning as he got up from his seat too quickly and his joints gave various sounds of complaint.

“Moony, there is no need–” Sirius started before cutting himself off, apparently thinking better. “My love, if there is anyone who can navigate Hogwarts after dark, it is that minx. The shadows would be scared off by her glare alone. And she won’t appreciate your interruption of whatever she is off doing now.”

“Or who,” James whispered through his sleepiness, horror seeping into his voice.

Sirius’ groan at the thought mirrored him. “Merlin’s beard, yeah, she’s probably off with Junior.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to hearing that.” James righted himself slightly in his chair, dragging his hands up and down his face, failing at ridding it of sleep.

Remus, still standing, turned his hands outward in a dejected position. His friends’ derailing seemed to be of little notice to him. “But we don’t know. I need to know.”

“Rem,” Sirius whispered in that unbearably soft voice Remus thought himself the luckiest boy in the world to have directed at him. He got up from his seat, hands settling on Remus’ waist, both for comfort and for steading him, he suspected. “She is alright. She always is. And, whether I quite like it or not, if she is with Junior, she is double-y safe. If nothing else, that maniac is protective.”

Remus nodded, allowing himself some comfort as he gazed into Sirius’ silver eyes. “Yeah, she is, I know she is.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Sirius’ lips. “But?”

“But I’m going to go get her.” Remus’ heart clenched a little in humiliation at how deep the wolf’s streak ran in him in these days, but he also would not let any discomfort get in the way of having his whole pack at home in their nests, where they belong. You can continue your adventures tomorrow.

“Yeah, I know you are,” Sirius relented, pulling Remus into a quick, squeezing hug to ground him. “I’ll go get the map and the cloak and we’ll go.”

Before Sirius could finish his sentence, Remus had accio’d both into his hands.

“No, that’s alright, I’ll go myself.” When Sirius looked like he was about to argue, Remus waved his wand in his face as if to say down boy. “As Head Boy, I can get away easier with being out past curfew – you on the other hand, would be shackled up in Flich’s basement before you could get a word out.”

“I have been out past curfew without being caught before, Moons,” Sirius guffawed in true Sirius-offence. 

“Not when picking up one of your best friends from nighttime adventures with one of your least favourite people.” Despite his anxiety and tire, Remus shot Sirius a wink and a small grin that told him I know you, Pads.

Sirius sat back down on the sofa with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly. “Be quick, or I’ll be the grumbly wolf.”

Remus bent down – biting back a small groan as his hip objected – and pressed a wet smooch to Sirius’ forehead and ruffled his hair. “You already are, love.”

When Remus walked towards the portrait hole, map and cloak in hand, he passed a snoring James, his mouth hanging open. He had a creeping sensation that by the time he came back, Sirius would have woken the poor boy by poking his finger into his mouth.

Cloak around him for extra measure, Remus silently slid down the halls of Hogwarts, fumbling the map open to find you. Just as suspected, a small Y/N L/N was in the astronomy tower with a certain Bartemius Crouch Junior, footsteps almost on top of each other.

He almost cursed his friend for choosing her romantic get-away spot at the top of such an awful amount of stairs, before he remembered the spell you had crafted for him with Madam Pomfrey just a few weeks back. You had dedicated your free time to inventing solutions for Remus’ different aches – “what’s the point of magic if not to make your life easier, Moons?” – and while this one was still a work in progress, it allowed the field of gravity around his legs to be lifted enough to take some of the pressure off his poor joints. It worked way better than the countless amounts of times James and Sirius had tried to wingardium leviosa him to class.

As he neared the door that your names were sheltered behind on the map, Remus’ nose was appeased as your familiar scent once more flooded him. Barty’s too, for that matter, and though that was a less welcoming one, Remus had come to find he didn’t much mind it either. 

However, he did not hear voices, which puzzled him. Nor any other sounds that perhaps would have had him turning around.

With a careful hand, Remus opened the creaking door to the very top of the astronomy tower, peaking his tawny curls through the opening and trying to behave as a normal concerned friend and not an anxious, possessive wolf.

“Lupin; to what do we owe the displeasure?”

The voice had all of its usual crass wittiness, but an eight of its usual volume. In the wide windowsill across from Remus, the one that had a view of most of Hogwarts’ grounds, sat Barty propped up with a few pillows, and with you, sleeping soundly on his chest. 

One arm was held protectively around you, his free hand carding gently through your hair. Your face was slightly smushed against his chest, breathing soft and steady.

Remus doubted he had ever seen you look so serene. It almost made him feel bad for interrupting. Almost.

“Good evening to you too, Junior,” he whispered, as he slowly made his way through the room and over to your sleeping form. He swore he could see Barty tighten his grip on you.

“Should a Head Boy be breaking curfew like this? What would good old Albus say?” 

“Well, when a member of his house doesn’t come home at night, I believe it is a Head Boy’s duty to come fetch them.” Remus tried to seem unbothered, not wanting Barty to know just how anxious he gets when his friends are apart. “Albus would certainly approve.”

Barty hummed, looking away from him and down at you. The soft smile that played over his lips did not escape Remus. “I would argue she is home.” Barty’s voice was teasing, but it felt quite real for Remus.

“Is that where your relationship is at now?” There was no teasing in Remus’ voice, just soft curiosity. Support, even, though he could never tell Sirius that.

Barty’s eyes flickered up from you again, face becoming a bit more stoney as he realised his own sleepiness was making him a tad softer than he wanted to be in front of the Gryffindor.

“Whatever. Well, as you can see, she’s safe. So you can sod off again.”

“She should come back to the dormitories, Junior. I’m sure she wasn’t planning on spending the night sleeping in a stony windowsill, that can’t possibly be comfortable at length.” 

“Firstly, she is mostly sleeping on top of me right now and I’ll have you know I am super comfortable,” Barty quipped, eyeing Remus. “Secondly,–” a breath “– no, she wasn’t planning on sleeping here, but she did fall asleep. So.”

Remus nodded slowly as he read between the lines, trying to fight his small smile at Barty’s expense – he was sure he would not have appreciated it. “You don’t have the heart to wake her.”

Barty scoffed, but his eyes betrayed him. He was caught. “I don’t have a heart, period.”

“But?” Remus asked, amusement lining his voice in a way he realised mirrored how Sirius spoke to him earlier. Knowingly, affectionately. 

“But look at her, Lupin. I can’t wake her.” While speaking, Barty seemed to gesture towards your sleeping form with the nod of his jaw, refusing to move his hands from where they were drawing circles on your back and playing with your hair.

Remus hummed in agreement, smile officially bursting free of his hold.

“Oh, sodder off,” Barty grumbled as he saw Remus’ expression, but there seemed to be little to no real malice in his voice.

“Sorry, sorry,” Remus laughed softly, careful not to wake you with their conversation. “Just… this was not what I expected to happen three years ago when James confessed his feelings for Regulus to me.”

Barty seemed to scowl at the thought of his best friend and his Gryffindor. “They’re disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Remus said fondly. “And so are you two. Ain’t it great?” 

Barty grumbled, hand in your hair stilling to cradle the back of your head. “I’m still not waking her up for you.”

“No need. If you’re careful with shifting her, you could carry her back to the dorms with me.”

“You want me to carry her all the way to Gryffindor?” Barty asked incredulously, looking at Remus as if he was stupid. “I appreciate you noticing my spectacular biceps, but that’s just not happening.”

Remus’ eyes twinkled. “Actually, I’ve got just the spell to make it easier for you.”

And so, Barty carefully shuffled you in his arms while Remus had his wand aimed at the both of you, helping ease the gravity off your form so that it would both be easier for Barty to carry you and for you to continue sleeping.

When you were bridal style in his arms, you shifted a little, burying your face further into his neck. “Sorry, darling,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline.

“Fuck off, Junior, let me sleep,” you whined, growing comfortable and tired once more. Remus had to fight not to laugh loudly.

“It’s not my fault, the cops showed up to end our fun.” Barty looked at Remus conspiratorially, who only rolled his eyes in return, as he led the way back to Gryffindor. 

“Stop saying stupid things and let me sleep, baby.” Your voice was already drifting off once more and Barty grinned widely at your slurred words.

“Yes, ma’am.”

It amazed Remus how much this boy loved being insulted by you. Your perfect match, evidently.

As you drifted back to sleep, and the closer your little trio got to the common room where his partner and best friend were waiting, the more Remus’ nerves seemed to settle. Everyone is where they should be.

[penvisions]

zest {chapter four}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Time is a funny thing, isn't it? You and Joel traverse the ups and downs of the pregnancy, doing your best to keep up.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: canon typical language, reader is canonically mid-size and of hispanic origin, adult content, smut, oral (f receiving), use of daddy, age gap, utter filth between two infatuated people, p in v, unprotected p in v, pet names (darling, baby, love), teasing as a form of flirting -they're insufferable your honor, serious conversations, confessions of feelings of inadequacy, mentions of family trauma and drama, reader is in her own head in this, talks of pregnancy and childbirth, slight angst, road trip vibes, slight time jump(s), the photos used in the header are only a rough head cannon of what reader looks like and mostly for the ~vibes - nothing is set in absolute stone, i think that's it!

Fic Notes: this is a sequel series; the previous fic can be found here -> {garnish}

A/N: so proud of myself for not forcing this chapter, letting it sit and my mind wander about them as a whole for a few months really helped me to find my way back to them. special shoutout to @tuquoquebrute for sending in an ask ages ago for a baby shower scene, i hope it's everything you imagined and more

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The hotel room is bathed in soft pink sunlight that glows through the drawn curtains, closed in the wake of your slight headache. But it’s the last thing on your mind as you let out a low, drawn-out moan. Your back is flush with the soft bed, unmade and the sheets are tangled and falling off the edge of it as Joel is nestled in them. Using them as a cushion for his knees atop the plush carpet of the room, just for an added comfort as he firmly holds your hips in place lavishes his tongue in swooping swirls over your clit.

You’re drenched, slick coating his lips and face as he buries it between your thighs. His grip tight around your thighs as he holds them open, ever so effortlessly keeping them from snapping shut around his ears as he practically makes out with your core. It’s messy the way your arousal seeps from you, coating his face, his saliva mixed in and running in thick drips down to soak the white sheets of the hotel bed.

The feel of his warm tongue tracing over your puffy lips and swollen nub, his thick fingers curled inside you and hitting that perfect spot that makes you clench tightly around them. The feel of his proud nose buried in the thatch of thick curls that sit right above it all, soaked too from the devotion he’s giving to you as the sun begins to peek up above the horizon.

The swell of your stomach prevents you from seeing anything other than the sweaty curls plastered to his forehead, the heat in the room and between your humming bodies stifling in the best way.

“My sweet girl, always taste so fucking good.” He pulls pleasure from your body like it’s his sole purpose in life, gently moving his fingers in and out as you throw your head back to shout out his name and clench tightly around them. His tongue replaces them as he licks up the release that smears across your inner thighs, scruff tingling over your skin in an overwhelming way.

“Ah, Joel, ‘s too much, baby.” He moves you up into the center of the bed, crawling over you. The heft of his cock drags over your thighs, smearing glistening precum as it does. And you whine, as he takes himself in the thick curl of his hand and taps the swollen head against your clit. Your hips jerk, you clench around nothing and his dark chuckle

“I think you like it,” He’s dragging himself through your slick folds, head catching just slightly against your entrance each time he does.

“F-fuck off,” You can’t help but slur, the empty threat cut off in a sharp gasp as he suddenly fills you, hands gripping around your knees to wrap them around his waist. He throbs where he’s nestled, and it makes your head swim.

“That’s such bad language, momma,” He tuts, teeth glinting as he smirks down at you. “Why don’t I work it all out of you before the baby comes, hmm?”

"Y-yes, daddy."

All you can do is dig your nails into his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he begins to snap his hips into the cradle of yours, pushing you both up the length of the bed with the force of his movements. In the back of your mind, you’re sure the people on the other side of the wall must hate your guts for being the annoying couple who can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other.

But honestly, you couldn’t care less. You’d take being the annoyingly smitten couple over being the one where sex becomes a routine, choreographed dance that takes place Tuesday nights with no lights on and underneath the covers. You’d take Joel at his most feral and spilling filth from sinfully delicious lips to the soft, slow and syrupy mornings any time, any day, for the rest of your life.

“Joel, I just really wanna go home, take a nice hot bath and get into bed before I have to start planning out the summer semester syllabus.” You feel the fatigue of the trip catching up with you, no matter how much fun it had been. The perfect little getaway has drained you as you enter your second trimester, body working overtime now, but thankfully the nausea seems to have worn off.

Beside you, Joel reaches out a hand to palm your thigh, understanding and concern wafting off of his focused frame in such an easy way. His brows furrow as he glances down at his phone in the cupholder when the screen flashes with a notification.

“C’mon, just lemme stop at the restaurant to grab somethin’ real quick. Check on Ellie, she’s been blowing up my phone about when we get back.” His voice holds your attention more than his words, it’s dipped low, almost a deep whine as he takes your hand in his and raises it to press a kiss to the top of it.

Your new ring catches the sunlight and softens you just as much as the man’s words. He’s such a good father, to the two kids he’s raised all alone. He’s a good man, who even if he prolongs the return to the house, who only wants to look out for those in his care.

“Joel,” You can’t help the whine of your own voice, lips pouting as the man turns a conflicted expression your way as his fingers tighten where they tangle with yours.

“I’ll make it worth your while, darlin’, please?”

“Fine, but I want truffle pasta for dinner.” You jostle his hand in yours, setting them atop your thigh.

“Done.”

Half an hour later, he pulls up to the front of the restaurant, parking the truck on the curb outside the public entrance. He rolls the windows down and you do a double take. There are colorful balloons floating in the gentle breeze, bouncing against each other. They make you smile even as you remember what a hassle parties were as a member of the food industry. You only hope that those on shift were adequately caffeinated and compensated for the hell they were about to endure.

Joel disappears through the front entrance, little bell dinging happily and he’s not gone but one second before he’s at the passenger door. He’s pulling it open from the unlocked handle, looking at you with a small smirk through the lowered pane of glass as you enjoy the breeze through the open window.

“Sweet girl, need you to step in for a second.”

“I’m all road tripped out, dios mio, Joel.” You groan out, really just wanting to be back him and swaddled in clean, fluffy blankets. “I need a bath and some serious skincare.”

He only raises a thick brow and you motion to the slightly wrinkled sundress you’re wearing, the slight bump of your stomach visible beneath the flowing fabric and the seatbelt over your lap. Your hair is pulled up into a haphazard clip in the back with the grown out fringe you had cut over the holidays framing your face. He promises that you look good, the light face of tinted lotion and mascara you put on alongside a natural lip good enough for what he wanted to show you.

Grumbling, you retrieve you phone from the center console beside his. Both phones are pushed into the hands that help you to step out and down from the taller cab.

“Better not be your way of getting me to-“ Your thoughts of helping to check over a liquor purchase fly out the window as soon as your eyes catch the bright scene laid out before you.

Your mouth falls open as you walk through the door being held open by Joel. The entire dining room is done up with sage green tablecloths, more balloons, and fresh flowers are everywhere from the center of the tables to the ledge of the bar. There’s a giant banner over the wall that houses the door to the kitchen. Donning the words ‘CONGRATS ON GETTING KNOCKED UP’. Below it is another slightly smaller one that says ‘AND GETTING ENGAGED TOO, I GUESS’. You snort at the phrasing, knowing that it had to have been a battle at the printers to get it done. And when you breathe air back into your lungs, the smell of fried food makes your stomach growl. Your face breaks out into a wide grin when you see Sarah and Ellie approaching you with their own wide smiles.

They’ve got a crown of flowers, you favorite. Sarah fixes your hair, loose from the clip it had been in and Ellie fastens it in place with a few bobby pins.

“Ready to celebrate, cause we sure as hell are!” Ellie exclaims while Sarah jumps up and down in front of you both, buzzing with energy she seems to have endlessly.

It’s a blur of greetings and photos, of laughter and mocktails. Your hunger from the drive forgotten as you just enjoy the time with your friends and acquired family. Maria and Tommy are floating around alongside the girls to ensure everything is going smoothly, soft music playing over the speakers and presents are placed on their own table. There are so many and you feel choked up over the outpouring of love and support from the community you found in a city so far away from the one you come from.

A lot of the staff from the restaurant are here too, the tightly knit group of about twenty or so from the kitchen staff to the servers. All showing their appreciation and excitement for you and Joel as you navigate this part of your lives. It means so much to you that they didn’t judge you for leaving them to do what you wanted, for focusing on yourself and landing the teaching job you always wanted.

Sure, the timing isn’t right. You’ve only done two semesters, going into a third summer one in a few weeks, but you will make it work. Either offer an online course once your maternity leave is up or even take Joel up on his offer to cut his hours to weekends so he can look after the little one during your proposed class times once you decide to go back to work. Who knows? All of it needs to be discussed, and you’re slowly wading through the conversations as they crop up and thoughts are had.

No pressure, he said. To talk about things unless you wanted to and you pressed the same assurance into his skin with your whispered words.

After the first hour or so, you’re seated with Millie and your best friend at an empty table. Both of them gifting you cards with promises to babysit and bring you takeout any time you needed it as you traverse the remainder of your pregnancy and once the baby is born.

“Look at you, hot momma. Landed the head chef and a baby all in one move. You guys are going to have the cutest fucking baby.” Nia caresses a hand over your shoulder, her nails a light scratch over your skin that feels really good as small waves of anxiety begin to wash over you. She knows, she can see it. Has always been able to see it, you lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder as she pivots to wrap her arms around you. “You deserve it, you deserve everything.”

“Do you know what the gender is yet?” Millie is smiling at the casual intimacy you both display, thinking back to all the nights you two displayed the same after a rough shift, all the smoke breaks and nights out that you shared. Friendship melting her heart, your happiness melting her heart after seeing what a rough year you had endured before this.

“We find out later this week, my blood work came back a little funky last time so instead of an ultrasound, they hooked me up to an IV and told me to rest for a bit while they monitored some stuff.”

“It’s the stuff from your dad’s side, isn’t it?” Nia’s arms tighten around you, worries spoken knowing the things you don’t like to share.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m pretty sure it was just elevated blood pressure which for me would be a normal reading and my blood sugar was a little high. They worry about diabetes, but she said my body is just trying to figure out how to process things and find a new balance with this little one taking up so much room now.” You hold a hand to your stomach, gently rubbing at the hardness you feel there now. Soft curves make up your frame, but your stomach is swollen a little more than typical for your physique, giving away the pregnancy now.

“He looks so grumpy.” Mille giggles around her sip of tonic water with grenadine. You follow her gaze and see Joel standing over the table covered in dishes and desserts. His hands are on his hips and he’s frowning as he dissects all the offerings. He almost seems lost in thought with the way his lips purse and roll, pulling a giggle from you too.

“That’s the ‘there ain’t nothin’ here I wanna eat’ look.”

At your stage whispered words, he looks up over at you and his brow furrows even deeper. You haven’t wandered over to the table yourself but he quickly looks back down at it as your trio breaks into a full on fit of laughter. He begins making a plate before heading your way and you try to school your expression even as your heart picks up a tick.

“Gonna make you that pasta you wanted, but here’s a few things to tide you over, momma.” And he’s setting the laden ceramic down with a wink before moving back across the dining room to disappear through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“He calls you momma? Oh my god, swoon.” Nia fans herself with her napkin as she looks your way.

“Do you ever call him ‘daddy’?” Millie’s question is conspiratorial as she leans in, as if afraid he might hear her even through the walls and light hum of conversation that fills the room.

You quickly help yourself to the food he brought over, avoiding both their eyes as you do so. Heat flares high in your cheeks and down your neck, the word bringing up memories that glitter across your skin.

“Oh. My. God. You do.” Nia sets her drink down and stares at you in awe.

“I mean, I would call him daddy if he asked me to.” Millie whispers as she sneaks a chocolate covered strawberry from your plate.

“He didn’t have to ask me.” Is all you say around a mouthful of food at the same time Nia exclaims that’s her boss.

“He started off as this one’s boss too!” She defends, her reprimand falling short as her expression cracks and giggles erupt into the air.

“Yeah, that was part of the fun.” You smirk, remembering the first time it slipped from between your lips as his body moved in tandem with yours. It had only made him growl and pick up the pace, you feel the shock of pleasure at the memory lights you up and you excuse yourself to cross the room with your plate in hand.

“She’s so gonna go make out with her daddy in the kitchen.”

“Girl, I would to if that was my man, fuck I need to get me some of what she’s obviously having. Minus the baby though.”

“Hey, momma, ready to get going?” Joel is gently wiping the excess gel from your exposed belly from the ultrasound you just had. He’s quiet, mind whirling at the news of having a boy. Something that had made your heart swell when you pictured a little toddler version of the man with unruly curly hair and a gap-toothed smile so wide you had gasped when the technician had made the announcement.

“I don’t know anything about boys.” You blurt out, worry and excitement swirling around in your chest and heart. You would’ve been happy with any gender but you find yourself so enthralled at the realization of having a boy. A baby boy. Pudgy cheeks, scraped knees, strong little hands, and then a harsh kick has your hand flying to sooth the ache as it prickles low in your stomach almost like a cramp.

“Oof, felt that one. He’s a little spitfire like his momma, ain’t he?” The vibration of Joel’s chuckle is heartwarming, he’s over the moon. His brown eyes glitter as he looks up at you and you realize he’s got unshed tears in his eyes.

“Joel, I don’t know anything about boys.” You admit in a low voice, worry striking up and beginning to wright down your limbs.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out together.” And his smile is dazzling, teeth glinting in the fluorescents and the dimple in his right cheek is visible beneath his stubble. Even as a few tears brim over and race down his face.

The rest of the day is spent picking out a pastel green and honey gold combination for the nursery. The cart is full of supplies needed for painting and a bulky box of baby proofing effects for the house. He steers it around the garden section of the hardware store as you drift among the plants, trailing fingers faintly over the leaves as you inspect them. It’s a little late for any planting to be done, but he’s agreed to grab a few ferns to place in the room to give it some life until the one it’s being decorated for comes along.

Paint-stained hands wander over ruined clothing as chaste kisses turn heated. Joel licks into your mouth as he pins you to the last white wall of the room across from the one you share upstairs. Your moan is loud and unfiltered as he slots a knee between your legs and grinds it up into the seam between your legs. Your dress doing nothing to shield you from the movement against your core, the rough denim a heady feel through the fabric of your underwear.

“Love the sounds you make, sabrosa.” The timbre of Joel’s voice vibrates through your chest and you sneak your nails underneath the collar of his shirt to dig into his bare shoulders. “Fuck, you sound so fucking good, you drive me crazy.”

“G-good.” You wheeze out just as one of his hands pulls the thin strap of your dress down off your shoulder and kisses the exposed skin around the smears of pain he pressed there. His teeth nip and suck all the way to your chest, where he pulls one of your breasts over the fabric. He swirls his tongue around your nipple, his eyes dilating at the sight of how it hardens and perks up under his attention. When his teeth clamp around the sensitive bud, a yelp sounds into the air as your hips buck against his flexed thigh.

“F-fuck, Joel,” You pant, unable to think with the heat of pleasure scorching over every inch of your body.

As soon as he draws a blinding release from you, he carefully guides you to the floor and smothers kisses all over your face, tongue tangling with yours as you open up for him. Letting him devour you as aftershocks tingle all over your skin. And when he finally frees himself from the jeans that are now stained on the leg to slide inside of your fluttering core, you sigh.

It quickly turns into a squeal as you feel thick, cool paint glide over the tarp you both lay on, tangled together in more ways than one. Shocked laughter springs into the air as he reaches out to press a hand into the liquid and presses a palm in the center of your chest. The giggle you let out cuts his rumbles off into a harsh gasp. The feeling of you clenching around him as you do so tightening around him so tight.

“Fuck, your laughter is the best sound.” His hips grind into you, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot and all laughter cuts off, turning into deep grunts and wonton moans as he begins to thrust against you.

As the days winds down, Joel busies himself with transferring the laundry over into the dryer and cleaning up the kitchen while you wander back upstairs into the finished nursery. The tarp laid out over the hardwood shows strange streaks and handprints while you sip a freshly made tea from a ceramic mug that was a present at your shower.

You try to hide the tears when Joel’s steps ascend the stairs but he senses them all the same.

“You okay, sweet girl?” His arms wrap around you from the back, one wide palm flattening in the center of your chest. Reaching out to place your mug on a newly assembled dresser, you place a hand over his and wheeze in a deep breath. The other reaches up to thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and you nod.

“Just happy tears, I promise.”

Four months ago if someone had told you where you would be, you would’ve laughed in their face.

You never expected to be laying out on a large towel atop warm sand underneath a large shade and four months pregnant. Joel is in one of the many chairs he brought along, resigning to sit in it when you all but shooed him away from where you settled in the sand. It was formed just right underneath your back and neck, giving you the relief of the weight you’ve put on in your belly. The swell of it was still small, something you brought up at a doctor visit but were assured it was normal with the weight you already carried.

Joel’s hand in yours in that moment made you feel a little better paired with the doctor’s soft words, they weren’t reprimanding you for being mid-size, simply explaining the differences it would cause in your pregnancy from an unjudgmental perspective. It still bothers you, just a little. Eating healthy and trying to maintain a good balance always the goal, but school and work and being social and exercising- well, frankly it was a lot to handle on a good day. Let alone a bad one.

Now, though, you’ve got a good reason to stick to a better diet. The baby boy you’re nurturing is of the utmost importance. Joel makes sure to cook you anything you’re craving, the meals he provides from the restaurant or whips up at home are balanced. He’s been amazing, Sarah and Ellie too. They’ve all pitched in to help where it’s needed.

Hell, they packed and loaded up the truck and then let you take the front seat beside Joel late yesterday afternoon before the drive down to the coast was made. The hotel was nice, a suite booked for the family. Three rooms, a living room, a small kitchenette, a balcony overlooking the beach from the fourth floor. It was nice. It was perfect.

The sun is glinting off your ring, held up as you admire the way it looks settled nicely on your finger. A wave of guilt rises and washes away in tune with the waves crashing softly on the shoreline. It was expensive, it’s such a nice piece of jewelry. You told Joel he didn’t need to get a wedding band to go alongside it, that the engagement ring was enough. But you suspect he already has one hiding somewhere.

When Joel suddenly stirs behind you, you shift your head to peer at him in an upside down glance from beneath your sunglasses. He’s reaching into the bag at his side, the one that he was adamant about carrying himself even though it contained all the things you would both need during the day out at the beach. He’s murmuring under his breath, camera suddenly in his hand and you scramble up as you realize he’s aiming it at you and the red light is on- displaying very clearly that he’s recording.

“Hey! No, no, no. No videos!” You try and cover yourself with a nearby towel, two piece doing nothing to hide much of anything. It was enough to feel secure walking around the shallows and to lay out, but to be filmed- nope, not enough.

“C’mon, darlin’, you look amazin’. Glowing like a goddess in the sun and decorated with that pretty ring.” His deep voice makes your skin tingle, your stomach dip, a tightening pull behind your hips.

“Shut up, you’re just horny, old man.” You deadpan, turning away from the camera and beginning the task of rising from the ground. You make sure to not aim your back or front at the camera, not wanting to give him the chance to record your chest or ass as you manage to stand. Bringing a hand up to look out at the rest of the set up from where you now stand outside the protection of the shade.

Sarah and her “coworker” are splashing around in the shallows, Ellie and her “friend” are building a sandcastle with the youngest member of your group, and Tommy and Maria are enjoying the small break of entertaining a one-year-old.

“You got me there.” And his grin is blinding, his face lit up with happiness and affection.

“Mhm.” You just raise an eyebrow at him, taking in the way he looks as he stands now too, in his red swim trunks. It’s criminal how good he looks, all broad shoulders and thick thighs. Fuck, he looks good and you feel yourself grow slick the longer you aim an unimpressed expression his way.

“Gotta pee.” You break the staring contest gracefully, pulling on the sun cover you brought along with you, it had been your makeshift pillow while you lay about.

“Alright then.” And then he presses a few buttons on the camera and wraps an arm around your waist.

Half an hour later, with twin ice cream cones held in tight hands, you share giddy chuckles and giggles with him as you make the trek back across the sand toward your set up.

There are flowers everywhere, balloons, and everyone is standing up the moment you get closer.

“Joel…” You trail off, seeing that Tommy is now wearing a graphic shirt with a tux printed on the front paired with his own board shorts. The girls also have their sun covers on, pale green to match the deep olive of yours.

“Alright, so, I know it isn’t the courthouse like we agreed…” Tears well up in your eyes, warm in comparison to the cold sensation of the ice cream you just swallowed a giant lick of. “But, I figured you would like this a little better.”

With barely held back tears, you let him take the last few bites of your napkin wrapped waffle cone and toss it into the trash bag underneath the folding table. And you marry the man who captured your attention some two years ago guide you to stand in the middle of your found family to exchange the vows you never thought you’d get the chance to at the guidance of his brother who learned the monologue online specifically for the occasion. The man who you love and loves you back, sharing sticky sweet kisses to seal the deal.

It’s better than you ever imagined, better than a courthouse and the formality of standing in front of an officiant that’s done it countless times in the same day. Your heart is full as you feel his arms snake around your body and pull you close, his smiling face and crinkled crow’s feet one of the best views in the whole world.

As the sun begins to dip low, you hold his hand tight as you walk with him through the waves crashing around your ankles, another beautiful ring stacked alongside the one he gave you when he proposed to match the simple gold band he now wears on his own finger. They glint in the warm sunlight and you wish that everyday could feel like this, that you get to spend every moment with the man who holds you tight and sways with you in the water to a song in his head. Twirling you carefully, away and then back to him for your body to lean into his with his hands wrapped securely around you.

“Love you, sweet girl, so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Joel Miller.”

The summer semester starts today, Ellie acting as your teaching assistant alongside a young man who you’ve never met before. Only his name on a file and a long list of recommendations. He’s got another two schools listed under his education, both ivy league in name. They’re both due in your office any second now, you realize as you glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. The papers in your hand, copies of the syllabus and the reading list are warm from the printer. The papers need to be organized and stapled into packs for the students to receive once you mid-morning course begins.

Right now, you’ve got a hot tea and a few crackers paired with cheese and fruit in front of you to keep your stomach from lurching. Nausea still rises up but nowhere near as badly as it had during your first trimester. A snack every three hours between meals helps, though you know you need to work on consuming more liquids. The excessive peeing is something new as more pressure weighs down on your bladder and you are not a fan.

You’re about to text Ellie and see if she’s okay when the door to your office suddenly swings open.

No knock, no voice announcing their arrival- and you’re met with the figure of someone familiar.

He recognizes you when his eyes finally land on you at the desk, a sweep of the office taken in first.

And it’s the guy from the coffee shop in Dallas that shoved you so hard you fell to the ground.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the woman who swings a pretty mean right hook. Should you be working in your condition? Because if I remember correctly, your boyfriend seemed pretty concerned about you being out and about.”

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[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Holy shite there were so, SO many things I wanted to draw pertaining to this chapter, but drawing was being so fragging hard omg ;-; sooo this got the vibes decently enough at least hopefully llol

aaaaannnd it's a Hashtag POV chapter again! :D

She's really trying to pinpoint how the heck she feels about this junk (def difficult tryna navigate the psych issues round here), and you just might be able to guess what she lands on. Star is still not having the greatest of time, but Hashtag is here to read his aft like a book yet again. For the most part at least.

Previous Chapter: Distractions

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Helm In The Cloud

Chapter 16: A Game Of Charades

Hashtag had hoped that the game night with Starscream could go better this time around. They’d had fun training together at least. They were all kinda starting to get along. Sharing music, cat videos, comics, their favorite wrestling channel–even Thrash was starting to warm up to this whole thing! Though he DID constantly try and do some silly schemes to test the sketchy seeker, the vibes weren’t malicious or anything. It was starting to feel just a bit normal again. As normal as it could be anyway. So what was the deal?

Why did Bee and Screamer have to get into some stupid fight? Now? Why was he acting all extra weird, this time?

Hashtag squinted her optics at her teacher and…potential second teacher if he stopped being dumb; while leaning her face against a servo.

“C’mon Starscream!” Bee tossed his servos in the air in exasperation at the ordeal. “You can’t hide in there just because you don’t want to lose in Uno again! It’s not THAT bad!”

Starscream was gripping the edge of the entrance to his room, and glaring like he was imagining blasting Bee’s face off. The thought made Hashtag tense. “No! That is NOT what I am afraid of you fool!” He jabbed a digit at Bee. Now…he did actually look oddly on edge come to think of it. “Enjoy your ridiculous games, and leave me out of it! Don’t try to act like my absence will be some tragedy. I’m sure all will go far smoother without–” His optics flickered with some weird mix of red and purple in them–kind of energon-ish color? That was new–and he held his head as his wings went all spazzy. 

Bee tried to reach out but was smacked away. “Dude. Look. I don’t know if you fell in love with isolating yourself after your months of alone time in the Titan, but as your redemption officer, you GOTTA get out of there.”

Starscream ignored him and disappeared deeper into his hole in the wall. Bumblebee tried to follow, and Hashtag couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, but it only seemed to be going in circles anyway. Bee was wrong though…Starscream has hated being alone since he’d come here. The only time she’d seen him going to hide away like this was when it seemed his social battery had been depleted like Nightshade. 

Something was really off about this. Was that corruption junk just getting to him more today? What even WAS that anyway? She still hadn’t found the right chance to ask him about it! Most of her siblings have assumed he went a bit crazy from chaos magic, being by himself with corpses he convinced himself weren’t actually dead, and that was all it was. That made sense enough, but something about it still didn’t feel right.

Eventually, Bee came back looking a mix of annoyed and concerned as he took his seat next to Dad. “He won’t listen to me.”

“What a shame.” Robby said with poorly masked sarcasm, which earned him a punch in the shoulder from Mo. “What??”

“You know what.” She crossed her arms with a tip of her head back. Mo’s signature sass at their brother would be more funny if Hashtag wasn’t so anxious right now. 

Mom leaned forward and raised a hand in a signal for them to knock it off when they’d started a staring contest. “I’m sure he’s fine. We gotta allow him the freedom to choose what he wants to do. You can’t force it, Bee.”

Bee sighed with a servo over his optics. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just kinda my job, and all.”

Dad patted his arm reassuringly. “And you’re doing great! How ‘bout we kick the night off with some charades huh? You can be on our team!”

Bee smiled. “Alright alright.”

“The party ain’t stoppin’ for any grumpy ol’ bot!” Twitch cheered in an effort to heighten the mood as she brought forth the bowl of prompts.

Yet as they started the game with Dad rapidly throwing out guesses to Bee’s word, Hashtag’s focus just kept drifting back to Starscream. Sure, they could just leave him alone, but she had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t actually what he wanted either. He always tried to play up the tough guy scrap, and she wasn’t buying it. Maybe she could try and talk to him. It was worth a shot, right?

Hashtag pulled Twitch aside and signaled for her to keep her voice down.

“What’s up sis? You doin’ alright?”

“Yeah! Totally…Um.” Hashtag fiddled with her digits as she parsed together how to go about this. “I’m just thinking about going over to check on Starscream. I don’t wanna bug Bee or Mom about it though. I think he might come out if I'm the one to talk to him. Or at least–I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on, y’know? So…can you fill the fam in after I bounce?” She gave her sister a pleading grin. She didn’t want to just announce her plan to everyone and potentially make Bee feel bad, or Mom to just deny her from doing it. 

Twitch looked back at the others before landing her rather serious gaze back into Hashtag’s optics, and flew closer to put a servo to her shoulder. “Tag, you know I trust you.” 

Hashtag cringed, “Please don’t let there be a “but” at the end of that sentence…”

Twitch snickered a bit. “Nah…I just want you to be careful. Send me a signal as soon as something wack starts going down. We don’t need that con tryna randomly use you as a hostage or something. Soooo I guess the only but would be–are you sure you don’t want me to come with you for backup?”

She thought about the offer for a moment. It would be nice to know Twitch was there to have her back. Screamer could still be pretty creepy sometimes, even if he seemed to be getting better. But if he’s already in anti-people mode right now, less people would probably be better. Plus, He always seemed to be extra…careful (?) when it came to Hashtag. Like…he felt bad about what happened. She didn’t know why he directed it more at her than her siblings, but she could still use that to her advantage. Twitch might just make things more complicated when she’d inevitably get protective, unfortunately.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll text ya updates if he doesn’t immediately kick me out.” She chuckled. Hopefully that won’t happen, but even if he tried, she was determined to not be deterred so easily.

“You better! Your big sis worries you know!”

“A little bit too much sometimes,” Tag teased. 

Twitch flipped down a servo with a roll of her helm. “Pff, I worry the perfect amount. Now get on over there before I think about this too hard, and I’ll fill the fam in after Mo and Thrash finish their turn.” 

“Thanks sis.” They exchanged a thumbs up and split off to fill their prospective rolls.

Hashtag made her way over to Starscream’s room, suddenly feeling more hesitant the closer she got. The ceiling stars inside were set to night mode from the cycle Nightshade had set for them, but it gave more of a spooky sort of lighting that didn’t help. Especially when his optics and those weird sparks stuck out in the dark.

It’d be fine though, it was just Starscream. Not like he’d killed people, kidnapped dads, or anything. Besides, she knew how to get to him. She knew he wouldn’t do anything crazy. Oh Quintus, did she?! She hadn’t thought he’d do that other insane junk before either! Maybe this was a bad idea after all–no. No. It’d be fine. He’s been chill. He’s actually been kinda nice. There’s nothing to worry about!

Hashtag took a deep breath to steady herself, and knocked on the doorframe to announce herself. “Hey–”

Starscream jerked in a similar way he’d done when she first went to see him in the brig (he was even sitting on the floor for some reason), and snapped. “WHAT? Oh…Hashtag.” His wings relaxed a bit when he realized who it was, but then immediately tensed when he seemed to notice something else as well. “NOT helpful you slagging–ugh…” He muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose as he clenched his optics shut. “You shouldn’t be here. Go back to your siblings.” That part actually seemed to be directed at her, even if he seemed to be avoiding looking in her direction now. 

Why did she keep having that feeling that he was talking to someone else?

Hashtag drifted deeper into the room towards the edge of his berth as she crossed her arms. “I think I’m good here, actually. Oooorrr, you could always come out of here with me, and do something way more fun than sitting there being weird.”

He went silent for a while. He kept being all twitchy, and when he finally opened his optics again he just stared blankly at something in the corner. When she sat down on the berth near him, Starscream skooched a bit away from her. He seemed to be having a heck of a time figuring out how to respond to that, with how hard he apparently needed to think about it. She couldn’t exactly tell if the fact that he wasn’t telling her off meant that he did in fact want her company or not. 

Hashtag had gotten better at waiting though. Even if the suspense was killing her. She wanted to ask so many questions, get to the bottom of why he was acting so funky, but she also didn’t want to overwhelm him. When she was in anxiety mode, questions were definitely the last thing she’d want, after all.

“You don’t want me there. Admit it.” Starscream finally said quietly, only barely glancing in her direction. He sounded…sad. 

“Don’t try and feed me lines Screamy, I’m the director around here,” She put a hand to her chest with dramatic flare, “and I in fact do want you there with us! Megs had his redemption arc, and I’m here for yours! We’ve been having a decent time hanging out these past couple weeks haven’t we? I will admit no such falsehoods! Even if you are still a bit of a jerk.”

Starscream dawned a somber smile. “Hah. Right…You know, you and Thundercracker would have been quite the pair to behold. He’d always adored script writing and those absurd novelas.” His wings spazzed again with a bit of lightning as he started tapping one of his digits. Something about that train of thought had his focus start to go into the abyss again. 

Hashtag leaned a bit forward as she fiddled with her own servos. “Really? Who’s that? He sounds pretty cool!” 

“Yes…” Starscream blinked after taking another long moment to elaborate. “He was Skywarp and I’s trinemate before Novastorm joined us from the Rainmakers. He was a strong, albeit sensitive, seeker. We did not always see optic to optic, but I suppose I could relent to the fact that he was certainly better at orchestrating dialogue. Even so, it was often idealistic or fantastical nonsense. Something I am sure you would’ve been enthralled by had you two been allowed such a partnership. He’d always dreamed of making something of his work after the war…” His expression had gone from detached to angry when another flit of those sparks went through him. He growled as his volume rose and his optics flashed red. “Of course, such frivolous slag could NEVER be allowed to come to fruition! Why would it?!” 

Hashtag leaned back a bit, “Did something bad happen to him? Is he stuck on Cybertron or…?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Man. Hashtag really did NOT have the credentials for this. Should she just focus on being all positive about it? Change the topic? Or, giving condolences was usually the right response in these scenes. 

“I-I’m sorry you lost your…” Was a trinemate kinda like family? “Brother? I would’ve loved to meet ‘im. Thundercracker sounds like he was a pretty awesome dude. Maybe I could dedicate a character to him someday! Is…that why you’re avoiding family time? It sounds like you miss him.”

“...No.”

Well that was a lie. Starscream was avoiding eye-contact again, and according to the internet, that was the biggest indicator someone’s lying. Plus, he still was all droopy like a wet cat. Maybe seeing Hashtag and her siblings hanging out together just made him feel bad about missing his own siblings. Skywarp had left him behind on that ship too after all–oh man he had fam issues. Is that what got him so upset?

But he kept tensing up like there was something else too. Now his eyes were…purple? The purple thing was DEFINITELY new. 

Oh, now they’re back to blue–scrap they went red glitchy again! Now he’s covering his audials and muttering something. What the heck!

Geez, he’s shaking really bad now. Was it something she’d said? Was this some type of anxiety episode she was supposed to snap him out of? What was the best way to do that?? When she did a quick search, it just said to be a persistent, calm force. Don’t be pushy. Ask for permission to touch them. Oh! Remind them of their surroundings! Maybe she could reference the Seekerz poster that he ripped up? Or maybe he did it for trigger reasons…so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

Hashtag slowly disconnected from the berth to kneel down next to him, but not too close. “Hey…Just focus on my voice right now, okay? I don’t know what you’re hearing right now–if it’s a flashback or something–but we’re just in the bunker. We’re chillin’ on the floor in your room, and nothing crazy is going on. We can talk about something else if you want.”

Starscream abruptly threw his arm out to aim across the room as a surge of the lightning went through it. His servo retracted to channel the sketchy power into a blaster and shot an intense laser at the wall that, once he stopped blasting it, left a huge, smoldering hole. Wheeljack’s parole thing on his ped let out an EMP burst that made him recoil in on himself again with a startled yelp. A final shot from his servo flew past Hashtag’s helm before he managed to fix it back to normal. 

“WOAH!” She dodged back in surprise at the sudden outburst.

He finally locked eyes with her again, and he looked horrified. Starscream fumbled away from her with the EMP blasted leg seeming to be offline now when he full-on fell backwards after trying to stand. “Get out.”

“What?” But she was trying to help! Why did this have to be so hard!? He obviously shouldn’t be alone right now, right?

“GET OUT!” Starscream actually aimed his gun arm at her as it was shaking and sparking wildly.

Hashtag shot up to her peds and put her servo’s up placatingly. “Hey! C’mon–” 

Twitch sent her a message that popped across her visor: [Is everything alright over there?? What was that?! Are you okay?!]

She frantically sent back a response: [I’m fine! I think- Just give me a sec!] 

“I know you don’t actually want me to leave–you’re in freakout mode, and that’s okay!” Hashtag tried to stay as still as possible and watched the blaster carefully in case he actually did shoot at her. “How about I just step out for a sec to grab a game we can play one on one or something? Y’know, get your mind off of whatever this is–do you like chess?? You seem like the kinda guy that likes chess.”

Starscream didn’t say anything else, and was just staring right through her. Creepy…He seemed to have a lot of space-out moments. Did he even hear what she said…?

Hashtag slowly began backing up towards the door. “I’ll be riiiight back. Just be cool. Okay? Yeah.” She flipped out her wheels and quickly rolled over back to her fam. 

Twitch immediately flew up to check her over, “What happened?”

Bee was up and looking in Starscream’s direction as a shot of red lighting flew out and hit their skate ramp. “What’s with THAT?? Hashtag, you shouldn’t have gone over there without someone watching your back, what if–”

“GUYS. It’s okay! I got it.” Hashtag rolled past them to look for their bigger chess set. “He’s having a bit of a moment, but he wasn’t actually trying to hurt me or anything. It’s just that corruption junk or something.”

“Sweetie,” Mom started softly but her undertone was stern, “We don’t know enough about what the stone did to him, or how unstable that power is. You CAN’T put yourself in the line of fire like that. Leave him be and join us over here.”

Bee nodded, “You should listen to your mom, Hashtag. He already told me off, it’d be best to leave it alone for now.”

 Hashtag moved aside their tic-tac-toe pieces and found the chess box. She hesitated there for a moment with her servos held firmly around its edges. Were they right? Should she just let it go? He did seem pretty upset…but that could be even more reason for her to go back in! She wasn’t afraid of him, she could handle it. He’d seemed way too freaked out about almost hitting her for him to actually want to hurt her directly. 

Twitch hovered behind her, “Tag, you gave it a shot, and I know you really want to fix it, but it isn’t your responsibility to do that alone.”

Hashtag lifted the box and turned to pass her sister on her way back towards the seeker. “I know. And I’m not alone. You guys are still right here if anything actually happens, right? I’m sorry, but I really can’t just leave it and be fine with that. I’d just be thinking about it the whole time I’d be tryna play the games with you guys, and that wouldn’t be fun…So I was thinking I could try and bring game night to him! Just us so maybe it won’t be too overwhelming, but still have something to focus on. I might not be the best at chess, but it seemed like something he’d like more than the luck based things.”

“...That makes sense.” Mo nodded with a casual show of support. “Right mom? Maybe Starscream’s just a wacky introvert.”

Mom sighed. “Fine. I’m proud of you baby, but…just be careful.” Man, everyone keeps acting like Starscream was gonna rip out her spark or something. Hashtag was supposed to be the drama queen around here.

Bee also didn’t seem too thrilled, yet still seemed to understand as he hesitantly sat back down. “Call for backup as soon as there’s more of that lighting stuff. Alright?”

Hashtag flipped out her wheels again to roll backwards and give him a short salute, “Loud and clear!”

“Text me updates!” Twitch called with an extended servo as it was definitely taking a lot for her to let Hashtag go a second time without her.

“I will!” She sang back as she slid in front of Starscream’s doorway. It was sweet how much they were concerned for her, but also a bit silly. Second chances were all about giving that person the benefit of the doubt, but she still knew how to be careful. They had nothing to worry about.

Hashtag slowly entered the room again, popping back out her peds to ready herself just in case he reactively shot her way. Starscream had his servos to his helm again, and his non-booted ped was rapidly bouncing up and down like he was itching to get up and pace. He seemed to be trying to regulate his breathing and muttering different things about the room like those grounding techniques she had shown him. Huh…he actually did keep it in mind. 

“Heyyy, it’s me again.”

His attention immediately whipped her way, but he hesitated like he was calculating what exactly he wanted to say. The fact that she could practically see the equations floating around his head, almost made her laugh. But this was definitely not the appropriate time for that, no matter how hilarious the image was.

Hashtag took the opportunity to creep up closer and sit down across from him as she set down the box. She opened it, and began setting it up with the black pieces on his side while she took white. It was not only kinda funny with the good-guy bad-guy coding, but also a sneaky way of stealing the first move. She’d need to teach him how to play anyway, so it also just made more sense that way.

Starscream was watching her every move closely. That was better than staring into the void. Then even though it really seemed like he wanted to say something–maybe apologize–he kept getting stuck somehow. 

“Okay, so, the gist of this game is that you’re trying to take out your opponent's king before they get yours. First pawn can go two spaces forward, then they can only move one, and they attack diagonally. Rooks go in any straight line until they hit something. Knights do this weird L move. Bishops go diagonally until they hit something. The Queen can basically do literally anything the other pieces can. And the king can move any direction one space.” Hashtag picked up each piece to give a short display of their moves. “He’s more of the damsel in distress with his absolute unit of a kick butt queen! Then, if you completely lock someone in a death grip where there’s no way they can save their king, you call out Checkmate. There’s a bunch of gambits and stuff, but this is more of Nightshade and Twitch’s sort of game honestly. I like to play more casually than worrying about doing a research project for it. I already had to help Twitch with that once when she got WAY too into it. Then Nightshade just always wins. So I’m good at taking the loss if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You shouldn’t be concerned about “making me feel better”, Hashtag.” He finally said something. Starscream was looking down at the board as he took in the rules she’d just thrown at him. No more weird lightning. That was good.

“Well, deal with it.” She retorted casually as she shoved the empty box out of their way. “I know you wanna push everyone away and stuff ‘cause you think everyone’s gonna leave you first, but there will be none of that on my watch! Not everyone sucks, and you can figure out how to not suck too.”

“Hm. Fair enough.”

Hashtag moved her first pawn, “Your turn.”

He actually moved his knight first. Nightshade did that sometimes. She always thought that moving one of the middle pawns was better though. But maybe she was just biased.

They continued though the game silently for a while, then Hashtag got a ping from Twitch. 

[You doing alright? How’s the game going?]

[Yeah we’re chill. I have no idea who’s winning rn lol. Wbu guys?]

[Bee, Dad and Mom are about to destroy us in Pictionary. Apparently they got adult sync mode on or something.]

[Looolll I don’t think that’s a thing. It’s probs mainly cuz Dad is so Bee obsessed that he has like, a plus five mod to his perception on anything Bee related.]

[That’s so unfair.]

“Fullstasis.” Starscream’s monotonous delivery snapped her from her visor conversation. 

“What?”

“Checkmate. Whatever it is. Your…king, is cornered. On one side by this bishop, and the other by the rook behind your knight.”

She stared blankly at the board, “Aw dang it! How’d I not see that?!”

“You were distracted. Plus, I baited you to take my queen, which left you exposed.”

“What the heck man. Aaalllright fine, I’ll reset the board.”

[I’ll ttyl, he already checkmated me somehow, you tellin me about unfair]

[lol, maybe he cheated when you weren’t looking.]

Hashtag rolled her eyes and minimized her chat bubble. She would have noticed him cheating. Maybe…No, she definitely would have. She hadn’t been THAT distracted.

Once the pieces were back in their original places, she moved the same pawn she did the first time. It might seem silly, but unleashing the queen from her pawn-y prison always took priority in Hashtag’s book. Besides, that pawn was obviously the main character, destined to reach the other side on their mission to be the queen's successor should she fall in battle for her king. A thrilling narrative could easily take the bored out of any board game.

Alas, as soon as the brave pawn reached their goal and was set to avenge the queen’s untimely demise, they were struck down by the dark king’s cursed knight. She made their death scene as dramatic as possible, of course. Lifting them up and down from their final square as they reached for the heavens.

“This will not be the last you see of ME! I will rise again as many times as it takes to defeat you, not even death will keep me from taking my revenge!”

Starscream chuckled, “Oh, I am counting on it.”

“Pff, you’ve had better monologues than that.” Hashtag placed the briefly royal pawn to the side, and moved her rook to take his bishop.

“Please. I wasn’t even attempting to supply one. Couldn’t such a rivalry between your odd characters be far more interesting if neither truly wanted it to end?” He took her rook with a pawn. Worth it. That bishop was being far too shady.

She shrugged as she moved another one of her own pawns in an effort to defend. “I guess so. But it’d have to end at some point, no story can go on forever. Ooo, maybe it’d be an enemies to lovers arc!”

“Eugh. No.” He moved his knight to some really weird spot that didn’t seem like it was going to do anything.

“It’d be glorious! It’s like the soulmate trope, where they’re destined to meet and stuff, but instead they’re locked in a reincarnation loop! They’re bound to get over whatever got them mad at each other eventually.” She swooped down her bishop in a position ready to take down his king. 

He immediately canceled her plot with some stupid rook from the other side of the board. “That’s absurd.”

“Okay, fun police. Fantasy doesn’t have to be realistic, Screamy.” Hashtag kicked over his rook with her knight. 

Starscream stared at the board for a long time, before finally moving his queen in range of her king and announcing, “Checkmate.” Again.

“You are way too good at this game for being a noob.”

“Its base principals are actually quite similar to Fullstasis. Skyfire and I used to play any chance we could.” He actually began resetting the pieces himself this time. “So I suppose I am not as inexperienced as you first thought. Surely you have merely been holding back on me.”

“Yeeaaah, tooootally! I’m DEFINITELY going to get you this round, just you watch me!” She was so going to lose. Hashtag had thought that she’d at least be on a more even playing field since it was his first time, but of course he just had to have Cybertronian chess stuff with whoever Skyfire was. They were probably a Decepticon and they played it for war strategies, or something stupidly serious like that with how much of a stiff he was.

The next game went on ridiculously similar to the last two, and it looked like it was going to end the same way. Until Starscream suddenly said she won. That his king was doomed and he was no match for her full power. That didn’t make any sense. How did he notice she won before she did? That wasn’t how it was supposed to work! Did he…LET her win? Usually he hated losing. 

Hashtag confidently accepted his proclamation of her awesomeness. She wasn’t going to call him out on it. Yet it was adorable to think how much of a softy the Decepticon actually was.

A bunch more games passed by with a few close-ish ones, him destroying her, then letting her win others. When suddenly, all the squares aligned as she called out checkmate, and he looked surprised. He actually stared at the board with what looked to be unadulterated disbelief this time, and she started to get worried that he was about to get mad and flip the board or something. But then he laughed, and congratulated her in a far more genuine way than his theatrical applause from before. Like he was proud of her. Wow.

He really was just a big ball of mush under all that ridiculous, evil mastermind scrap after all.

[niallerspayno]

I Like Your Style (Niall Horan x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: hey love, if you’re up for it i would love to read an enemies to lovers imagine with Niall and the reader. maybe he often flirts with her but they still really hate each other, until she one day snaps and they make out? just if you feel inspired, love your profile!!❤️

Tags: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff

Masterlist

You still remember that night—the night everything started. It’s burned into your memory, every detail as vivid as if it just happened.

The award was for Breakthrough Artist of the Year. A career-defining moment, they called it, and you had fought tooth and nail to get here. Months of relentless touring, sleepless nights in the studio, and navigating an industry that always seemed just a little more skeptical of you. But the competition was fierce.

There were four nominees: a critically acclaimed indie darling, a viral TikTok sensation, Niall Horan—former boyband star turned solo artist with an already massive fanbase—and you. The underdog.

You had convinced yourself you wouldn’t win. How could you, standing next to names that practically guaranteed success? Even as they called your name, you sat frozen for a moment, your brain struggling to catch up with reality. The applause surged around you, bright and overwhelming, as the cameras captured your stunned expression.

You stood, smoothing your dress with trembling hands, and made your way to the stage. The trophy was heavier than you expected, cold and solid in your grip as you delivered a speech that you barely remember now—something about gratitude and hard work.

But the real drama started after.

Backstage, you see him almost immediately.

Niall.

He’s leaning against the wall in the press area, his signature grin plastered on his face as the cameras crowd around him. But his eyes—his eyes are scanning the room, and when they land on you, that grin shifts. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t something magnetic about it, something that tugged at your gut. It’s as if he knows exactly how to get under your skin.

He strolls over to you with that swagger of his, the one that drives you crazy.

“Hey, congrats on the win, darlin’,” he says, his voice so casual you almost miss the way it sends a spark of irritation through you.

“Thanks,” you reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

But Niall doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes rake over you in that playful way that makes you want to shove him away and lean closer all at once. “I’ve gotta admit, you do have your own... style,” he says, leaning in just a little too close, his breath warm against your ear.

It’s the way he says it—the style part—that makes something cold snap inside you. Like it’s not a compliment at all. His eyes glint with amusement as if he’s daring you to react.

You clench your jaw. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask, keeping your voice level, but your pulse betrays you.

Niall just shrugs, the grin still playing on his lips. “Could be. Depends on how you take it.” His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it, something that only adds fuel to the fire already burning between you two.

Before you can say anything else, the press swarms you both, and Niall steps back just enough to let the spotlight shift. He’s still watching you, though, his gaze never leaving your face as he answers a few questions.

“She’s got a good look, doesn’t she?”

“You mean her style?” A journalist teases.

Niall chuckles, giving a lazy nod. “Yeah. Something about her vibe.”

You feel your stomach churn. The comment wasn’t just a dig at your style—it was a jab at your talent. You can hear it in his voice, the way he downplays everything. The worst part? The media eats it up. The headlines the next day are brutal.

“Niall Horan Throws Shade at Breakthrough Artist Winner?”

“Pop Rivalry Turns Icy After Award Show Win.”

“Niall Horan’s Casual Dig: Is There Drama with the New Star?”

It all spirals out of control. The press turns a single comment into a full-blown feud, spinning a narrative that’s hard to escape. Niall’s flirty remarks become more frequent, more blatant, each one adding a layer of tension. The more he flirts, the more you want to tear your hair out, especially when it feels like he’s teasing you on purpose—like he knows exactly how much it annoys you.

But even as the rivalry intensifies, there’s this lingering question in the back of your mind. Is he playing a game, or does he mean something else entirely?

And now, here you are—seated next to him on The Voice, the cameras rolling and the entire world watching. You both grin for the cameras, but the tension between you is palpable. Flirting aside, it’s clear: this competition is no longer just about talent. It’s personal.

...

The studio is alive with electricity, the anticipation hanging in the air as the next contestant steps up to the mic. You’re perched on the edge of your seat, already tense, because you know this is the moment. You can feel it. This contestant is exactly what you’ve been waiting for—a voice that could break through the noise, something unique.

But of course, Niall is sitting right next to you, not even pretending to be subtle. He’s leaning back in his chair with that cocky grin plastered on his face, practically vibrating with excitement. You can’t not notice him. He’s always been like that—loud, insistent, trying to make you feel something, anything.

You know what he's doing.

"Bet you a tenner I get this one," he says, his voice low but not quiet enough to escape your hearing.

You glance over at him, your gaze narrowing. "Keep dreaming, Horan. You couldn’t pick talent if it slapped you in the face."

He raises an eyebrow, that grin of his only growing. “Is that right? You might wanna watch this, then. I’m about to claim them.” He leans forward, eyes burning into yours, and for a second, there’s something in the way his jaw clenches that makes you feel… something. It’s not a nice feeling, though—it’s the kind of frustration you get when someone knows exactly what they’re doing.

You lean forward too, but you don’t let your gaze linger on him. You can’t. You have to stay focused. This contestant could be yours.

The music starts—a soft, melodic intro that gradually builds—and the voice that fills the studio takes you by surprise. They’re good. Damn good. The rawness, the power in the notes. It’s clear they have something special.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Niall mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he eyes the contestant. “You sure you can handle this one, love?”

His words come out playful, but there’s a distinct edge to them. Like a challenge. And you hate it.

You’re not backing down. Not now. You press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay calm as the voice soars higher. You’re ready—so ready—for this. You need this.

Kelly Clarkson leans forward, clearly paying attention, and her voice rings out. “Ooooh, I’ve got a feeling about this one. You two might actually be in trouble.”

Blake chuckles beside her, enjoying the spectacle. “Looks like our two favorite coaches are about to go head-to-head again. Good luck, kids.”

You throw Blake a sarcastic grin. “I don’t need luck, Shelton.” Then, without looking at Niall, you add, “I’ve got skill.”

Niall just chuckles, and the sound grates against your ears. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got plenty of skill. But it’s me who knows how to make people shine.” He winks, obviously trying to get under your skin. And damn it, it’s working.

“You keep talking, Niall. Eventually, you might convince yourself,” you mutter, your fingers itching over the button.

You know he’s close to hitting it. You know he wants to press it as badly as you do. And there’s no way you’re letting him get away with it. Not this time.

The contestant hits a perfect high note as the song ends, and it’s your moment. Your hand slams down on the button, and your chair turns with a satisfying whoosh. At the exact same time, you hear the sound of Niall’s chair whirring around too. You both know. It’s a race now. The stakes are higher than ever.

The crowd erupts in cheers, the audience clearly buzzing with excitement over the fierce competition. The contestant stands there, wide-eyed, unsure who to choose, and you can feel Niall’s presence just inches away. His gaze locks with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You know I’m the better choice,” he says, leaning forward just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. There’s a hint of something in his voice—something more than just a game. Something personal. And you hate how much it affects you.

You turn to the contestant, keeping your voice smooth and confident. “Don’t listen to him,” you say, flashing your most charming smile. “I’m the one who’s going to take you places. I’ll give you the chance to be exactly who you’re meant to be.”

Niall’s eyes flick to you, but his expression shifts, something colder lurking behind the cocky grin. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But here’s the thing—I’ve got experience. I know what it takes to make it. You’ll be in good hands with me.”

You can feel your heart rate picking up. You’ve been in enough of these situations to know what’s at stake, and this time, you can’t let him win. You won’t.

Blake’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Well, well, well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a little showdown here. I don’t know about you, Kelly, but I’m loving the drama already.”

Kelly grins, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. “I think they’re both ready to throw down. Should we get the popcorn, Blake?”

The contestant steps forward, clearly uncomfortable with the mounting tension. “This is... tough. I’m really torn.” They glance between you and Niall. “You’re both amazing coaches…”

You smile a little too tightly, your patience fraying at the edges. “I’ll give you everything you need. We’ll win this, together.”

Niall leans even closer, his voice softer, more persuasive. “I won’t let you down. You’ll be in the best hands with me. Let’s make this happen.” He says it like a promise, and you can’t stand the way it makes your heart skip.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the contestant steps forward. “I’m going with... Niall.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You feel the weight of them, the finality. Niall grins, standing up and reaching out to give the contestant a high-five. “You made the right choice.”

As Niall celebrates, you lean back in your chair, forcing a smile you don’t quite feel. You can feel the heat of Niall’s victory like a brand against your skin.

He glances over at you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

Blake snickers. “They’re definitely not over this rivalry. This season’s gonna be fun to watch.”

You can barely keep the snarl from your lips. “Oh, just wait, Horan. The season’s just getting started.”

You stand, tension crackling between you both as you watch Niall walk away with his new contestant. You know it’s only a matter of time before you get your turn. And when you do... it’s going to be your victory.

...

The stage is set for another Blind Audition, and the energy in the studio feels electric. The previous battle was a tough one, with Niall swooping in to steal your contestant, and it’s been eating at you ever since. You will get one back from him. You’ll make him regret thinking he’s the top coach on this show.

You’ve been watching Niall closely, and you know he’s itching for the next powerhouse vocalist to walk through those doors. He’s sitting back in his chair, relaxed, like he’s already got the next contestant locked down. But you’re ready to ruin that plan.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your fingers hovering over the button. His cocky smile, the way he leans back so casually—he thinks he’s got it in the bag again. Not this time.

The next contestant steps forward, a powerhouse vocalist who hits that first note with so much raw emotion that it sends chills through the room. You’re instantly invested, nodding along to the beat. There’s something special here.

You can feel Niall’s eyes on you as the voice fills the studio, and you see him twitching, clearly ready to slam down his button the second he feels the connection. You don’t even give him the chance.

Without thinking twice, your hand moves swiftly, slamming your button down and blocking Niall from turning around. The bright red light flashes above his chair.

“No!” he shouts in disbelief, sitting up straight. “What the hell, you can’t be serious right now!”

Your smirk is all too satisfying. You stare at him, keeping your voice cool, though there’s a playful edge to it. “Oh, I’m serious. I’m not letting you take this one from me, Horan. Not this time.”

Niall glares at you, his frustration clear. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You blocked me?” He laughs in disbelief, his voice dripping with irritation. “That’s low, even for you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Low? I’m just playing the game, Niall. You’re the one who’s been stealing from me all this time. Now it’s my turn.”

Blake chuckles from his chair, glancing at Kelly. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s finally getting a taste of their own medicine.”

“Guess it’s just what happens when you think you can take everyone,” Kelly adds, teasing Niall in her signature way.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, enjoying the chaos you’ve caused. Niall, though, is seething. You can practically hear him grinding his teeth.

“Well, let’s see how this plays out then,” he mutters under his breath, clearly fuming.

You keep your eyes locked on him for a second longer, enjoying the tension that’s now simmering between you. You’ve managed to outplay him for once—and it feels good.

The contestant finishes their performance with a final, dramatic note, and the moment of silence feels like an eternity.

Blake is the first to hit his button, and then Kelly does the same. But you’re waiting.

As soon as the contestant finishes, you hit your button again, and the chair spins. You watch the contestant’s face light up with excitement as they see your chair turned, and your heart swells with satisfaction.

But Niall’s chair remains turned away. You know he’s struggling to hide his annoyance.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me,” you say, your voice almost a challenge as you look over at him.

He meets your gaze, his jaw clenched, eyes narrow. “You’ll regret that,” he says under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

“I highly doubt it,” you reply, turning your attention back to the contestant, ignoring Niall’s glare. You’ve just taken something precious from him, and it feels good.

The contestant steps forward, looking between the coaches, clearly thrilled by the attention they’ve just received from all of you. But you know this is where it gets tricky. You’ve got the advantage—Niall is blocked, and now you have to convince the contestant to join your team.

“Listen,” you begin, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve got a voice that can move mountains. I can help you take that talent to the next level. I know exactly how to guide you to success, and I’d love for you to be on my team.”

“You made the right choice,” they say with a smile, stepping toward your team.

A rush of triumph fills your chest as you give the contestant a big smile. “I won’t let you down.”

Niall, on the other hand, is trying to keep his cool, but you can tell by the way his shoulders are tense and the way he’s not looking at you that you’ve won this round. You couldn’t help but enjoy it just a little.

...

The moment you step backstage, the adrenaline from the Blind Audition still courses through your veins. You’ve just blocked Niall, taken a contestant right from under his nose, and it feels damn good.

You pull your jacket tighter around you, your mind racing with the satisfaction of winning this round. But just as you think you're in the clear, you hear a voice behind you—low, smooth, and unmistakably Niall's.

"You think you’ve won, don’t you?” His voice is laced with that teasing arrogance that always makes your blood boil.

You turn around, your heart racing at the sight of him, standing there with that smirk plastered across his face. His eyes narrow as they meet yours, like he's trying to read every thought behind your cool exterior. But you can’t let him get to you. Not now.

"Won? It’s just a game, Horan," you reply, your voice biting. "But I guess that’s a concept you wouldn’t understand, considering how you’ve been playing this entire season."

Niall takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. His cocky grin remains, but there’s a tension in his posture that you can’t ignore. "I don’t need to play games when I’ve got talent on my team," he says, his voice low and challenging. “You think you’re so clever, blocking me? But it’s only a matter of time before I take it all back. You can’t keep this up forever.”

You lean against the nearby wall, crossing your arms and letting out a sharp breath. "You’re all talk, Horan. And honestly? I’m getting sick of hearing it. You’ve been stealing from me every round, but you can’t take a little competition?"

Niall smirks, clearly enjoying the way your frustration is boiling over. "You’re cute when you get all fired up, you know that?" His voice drops an octave, and you can feel the shift in the air between you. His words hang in the space, almost like a dare.

You roll your eyes, refusing to let him get the best of you. "Cut the crap, Niall. This isn’t about flirting. It’s about the competition. Keep it professional."

But even as you say it, you can feel the heat radiating from him. The way he’s standing so close now, his presence filling the space with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. His scent, that mix of cologne and something undeniably him, seems to invade your senses. You try to ignore it, but your pulse betrays you, speeding up in a way you can’t control.

He steps even closer, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for a bottle of water on the counter, his fingers grazing your skin just long enough to send a jolt of electricity through your body.

The contact is brief, but it’s enough to make the air between you both thick with something unspoken. The sexual tension is palpable now, hanging between you like a storm ready to break.

"Keep telling yourself that," Niall murmurs, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. His voice is soft, almost teasing, as if he's savoring this back-and-forth. "But we both know there's more to this than just the competition."

You can’t breathe for a moment, your mind racing. You hate the fact that he’s right, that you feel something when he’s near. Something more than just professional rivalry.

But you won’t let him see that. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

"Just keep it up, Horan," you bite back, pushing off the wall and standing straighter, trying to compose yourself. "You might be cute, but I’m not here for games. You’ll see. I’m not the one who’ll be standing alone in the end."

Niall chuckles, that wicked grin never leaving his face. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” He leans in just slightly, his lips almost brushing your ear as he whispers, “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

The heat of his breath against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to show it. You grit your teeth, stepping back and putting some distance between you two.

"You’re delusional," you snap, fighting to keep your voice steady. "If you think I’m falling for your charming act, you're sorely mistaken."

Niall stands there for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips once more before he straightens up and steps back. "Maybe I’m not trying to charm you." His gaze hardens as his smile turns into something a little darker. "But keep pretending that’s not exactly what’s happening. It’s cute, really."

You can’t stand it. You’re done with him. “You’re so full of yourself,” you mutter under your breath, turning away to gather your thoughts.

But Niall isn’t finished yet. "I’ll leave you to your delusions, sweetheart. But just remember this—no matter how much you try to block me, I’ll always find a way to get to you." His voice is thick with meaning, like he’s daring you to challenge him.

You turn back just in time to catch the glint in his eyes, the fire still burning between you. For a moment, neither of you moves. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with the unspoken words and emotions that have been building since you walked into this backstage area.

Then, without another word, Niall walks away, leaving you standing there, heart pounding in your chest and a fire raging inside you that you can’t quite extinguish.

...

The air backstage is filled with anticipation as the Battle Rounds approach. The tension between you and Niall has only grown over the course of the blind auditions, and it’s now time to take things to the next level. Every coach knows this round is critical—not just for the contestants, but for their pride.

The producers have a surprise in store for everyone tonight. To kick off the Battle Rounds in a spectacular way, they’ve asked the four coaches to perform a song together as an opening number. After a brief moment of surprise, all of you agree to the idea, knowing it’s a perfect way to set the tone for the intense competition ahead.

The air is thick with anticipation. The studio lights blaze above, casting a bright glow over the stage. The live band hums behind you, ready to bring the rhythm to life. You’re seated in one of the ornate chairs, feeling the weight of the competition settle on your shoulders. You glance around the circle of coaches—Niall is sitting next to you, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He shoots you a half-smile, the kind that holds a hint of something else, a little too playful. You catch his gaze, but you refuse to acknowledge it for too long, focusing instead on the task ahead.

Blake and Kelly are to the other side of Niall, both chatting lightly amongst themselves, their voices floating over the murmur of the audience. Blake is already making faces at the crowd, showing off for the cameras, but Kelly’s gaze keeps flicking between you and Niall, like she’s sensing the tension brewing between you two. You know she’s not blind to it—neither is Blake, for that matter.

The band strikes up the first notes of Can't Take My Eyes Off You, and the audience erupts in cheers. You lift the microphone, feeling the weight of it in your hand, and your nerves dissipate into the music. The competition has officially begun—this performance will set the stage for the battle rounds, and every word you sing feels heavier now.

You glance over at Niall, your heart giving a small jolt as he leans slightly toward you, his voice low but unmistakable. He’s waiting for the right moment to take the lead, but you’re not going to let him have it that easily. You shift in your seat, ready for the challenge.

The first verse starts, and you sing, your voice floating smoothly into the air.

"You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you"

You feel Niall's presence beside you—his attention unwavering as he follows your lead. But there’s something else there, something beneath the surface. His eyes flick to you as you sing, the playful challenge between the two of you still palpable. He leans closer just as his turn comes, and you can feel the air shift.

"You'd be like Heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much"

There’s a subtle tension building between you, an invisible string connecting you both as your voices harmonise. The entire moment feels charged, as though you’re both competing for the spotlight, even though you’re supposed to be collaborating. You can’t deny the heat of his gaze as it lingers on you, something unspoken between you, neither of you willing to break it.

The song swells, and you take your turn with a bit more flair, your eyes locking with Niall’s.

"I love you, baby And if it's quite alright I need you, baby To warm the lonely night I love you, baby Trust in me when I say"

The two of you are side by side, but it feels like you’re worlds apart. You can sense his smirk before he even opens his mouth, and when he sings, his voice smooth and teasing, you can almost feel the challenge in his words.

"Oh, pretty baby Don't bring me down, I pray Oh, pretty baby Now that I've found you, stay"

You fight to keep your composure, your voice strong, but it’s hard to ignore the silent battle unfolding between you two. He’s playing with you, pushing you, and you won’t back down.

You both reach the final chorus, and there’s a shift—a spark that ignites between you as you sing in tandem. The energy is electric, the entire performance now feeling like it’s not just about the song, but about proving something. To each other. To the audience.

"And let me love you, baby Let me love you"

The crowd’s roar rises as you finish the last note. The music fades, and you both hold your microphones, your breath heavy from the performance. You steal another glance at Niall, and this time, his smirk is gone, replaced by something else—a quiet recognition. His eyes linger on yours, and for a moment, there’s an unspoken understanding between you.

The applause is deafening as the coaches exchange looks, Blake already grinning and giving you both a thumbs-up, while Kelly gives you an approving nod. But it’s Niall’s gaze that sticks with you—the challenge is still there, unspoken, but clear. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes still on you.

You can feel the tension between you like a string pulled tight, waiting for the next move.

...

The applause still rings faintly in your ears as you make your way backstage. The buzz of the performance is dulled by the swirl of thoughts in your head—mainly, Niall. The way he leaned just a little too close during the song, his voice dipping in that teasing way he knows drives you mad.

And maybe it’s the heat of the performance or the months of frustration bubbling over, but you’re done. Done letting this hang over you, done second-guessing every look, word, and touch from him.

You spot him by the craft services table, casually leaning against it like he doesn’t have a care in the world, laughing with some producer. His easy charm grates on you, pushing you to stride over, your steps fueled by determination and anger.

“Niall,” you say sharply. He turns, his brows lifting in surprise. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Alright then,” he drawls, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager for some one-on-one time, love.”

“Save it,” you snap, your tone brooking no argument. “Somewhere private.”

His smirk falters, curiosity flashing in his eyes, but he shrugs and follows you into the quiet hallway. The air between you is already thick, and as soon as you’re out of sight from the crew, you whirl on him.

“I’m not playing games anymore, Niall,” you say, your voice taut. “What did you mean at the awards show? The comment about my ‘style’—what was that supposed to be?”

He blinks, caught off guard. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“Yes, I’m still hung up on it!” you snap, your frustration boiling over. “You made me look like a joke in front of everyone. So, explain. Was it a cheap shot, or were you just being your usual, arrogant self?”

Niall exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, but his playful smirk doesn’t quite disappear. “You really think I’d waste my time taking cheap shots at you?”

“Don’t act like you’re above it,” you fire back. “You’ve been throwing jabs at me since day one.”

“Because you make it so bloody easy,” he counters, stepping closer, his voice low and laced with that maddening charm. “You walk in with your head held high, acting like you’re untouchable. It’s…endearing.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” you say, pointing a finger at his chest.

He grabs your hand before you can pull away, his grip firm but not harsh. “I’m not patronizing you,” he murmurs, his tone dropping. “I’m telling you the truth. You’ve got this fire about you that makes it impossible not to push your buttons.”

You snatch your hand back, your pulse racing for reasons you’d rather not admit. “So, that’s what this is? Some kind of sick game to you?”

“No,” he says, his own frustration flaring now. “It’s not a game. But maybe I said what I said back then because I was jealous, alright? You’ve got this incredible career, this talent I can’t help but admire, and I—”

“Jealous?” you cut him off, your voice incredulous. “That’s your excuse? You made me feel small because you were insecure?”

His jaw tightens, and he steps even closer, his blue eyes blazing. “You don’t get it, do you? It wasn’t about making you feel small. It was about getting your attention. And, for the record, I’ve got a lot of respect for you, even if you refuse to see it.”

“Respect?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that what you call constantly flirting and turning everything into a competition?”

“Would you rather I ignored you?” he shoots back. “Because I don’t think you’d like that either.”

His words cut through you, your heart pounding as the tension between you reaches a breaking point. His gaze is locked on yours, and for a split second, you think he might close the distance between you.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, stepping back to break whatever spell this is.

“And you’re infuriating,” he retorts, though there’s something softer in his voice now. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I stopped trying.”

You hate how your cheeks heat at his words, how your anger feels tangled up in something deeper, something you’re not ready to name.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “This was a mistake.”

You turn and walk away, not daring to look back. But you can feel his eyes on you, and his words—sharp, teasing, and maddeningly honest—linger long after you’ve gone.

…

The Battle Rounds are behind you now, but the tension between you and Niall hasn’t eased in the slightest. If anything, it’s only grown sharper with every exchange, every offhanded quip, and every side-eyed glance from him that lingers just a beat too long. The audience eats it up, of course, but for you, it’s exhausting. Weeks of sniping at each other on live television have done nothing to resolve the resentment simmering beneath the surface. Now, it’s the Knockouts, and fate—or maybe just some cruel producer with a sense of humor—has pitted your contestant against Niall’s.

You sit in your oversized chair, trying to project calm confidence, but the energy crackling in the room feels like it’s working against you. Niall is close enough that you can hear him tapping his foot against the base of his chair, his arm draped over the backrest in that infuriatingly casual way that makes it seem like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His contestant is up first, and when the cameras cut to you both for reactions, he leans toward you with a grin that’s all smug mischief.

“Hope your kid brought their A-game,” he murmurs, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. “Mine’s about to blow the roof off.”

You don’t bother looking at him, keeping your gaze fixed on the stage instead. “Confidence is cute, Niall. Overconfidence, though? Not so much.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and maddeningly unbothered. “We’ll see how cute it looks when I’m walking out of here with another win under my belt.”

The lights dim, signaling the start of the performance, and Niall leans back in his chair, still grinning as if he already knows the outcome.

His contestant delivers a near-flawless performance, commanding the stage with an undeniable presence and a pitch-perfect rendition of a current pop anthem. The audience is eating it up, cheering and clapping in all the right places. You can’t deny the talent—it’s impressive. Annoyingly so.

When the performance ends, the applause is thunderous, and Niall is on his feet, clapping like a proud parent at a school recital. He glances at you as he sits back down, his grin sharper now. “Tough act to follow, eh?”

You finally meet his gaze, matching his smirk with one of your own. “Oh, don’t worry. My contestant knows how to make an impression.”

And they do. Your contestant strides onto the stage and delivers a performance brimming with raw emotion and artistry. It’s less polished than Niall’s act but undeniably heartfelt, a stark contrast that resonates with the crowd. By the time the final note rings out, the audience is on their feet again, their applause just as loud as before.

You glance at Niall, satisfied to see his expression falter—if only for a moment. “What was that you were saying earlier?” you ask, your tone sweet and pointed.

But Niall recovers quickly, leaning closer as the audience noise fades. “Not bad,” he says, his grin returning. “I’ll give it to you—your kid’s got heart. But sometimes heart isn’t enough, love.”

The final decision is made, and when the host announces Niall’s contestant as the winner, he explodes out of his seat, throwing his arms in the air with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“YES!” he shouts, turning to you with a laugh that’s equal parts giddy and teasing. “Told you, didn’t I?”

You stay seated, forcing a tight smile as the cameras cut to you. “Congratulations,” you say through gritted teeth, though your eyes narrow as he takes his sweet time basking in the moment.

As the stage clears and the contestants exit, Niall plops back down in his chair, still buzzing with energy. He leans toward you again, his voice a soft murmur so only you can hear. “Don’t take it too hard, love. You’re still my favorite rival.”

You glare at him, your composure slipping for just a second as your frustration bubbles over. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” he says with a wink, clearly relishing every second of your irritation.

The cameras cut to a commercial break, but the tension between you remains.

…

The day finally comes to an end, and the air backstage is charged with the hum of crew members packing up, the chatter of contestants celebrating or consoling one another, and the occasional burst of laughter from Kelly and Blake somewhere nearby. You’re standing at your vanity, wiping the last of your makeup off, your reflection staring back at you with tired, frustrated eyes. It’s not just the long day weighing on you—it’s him. Niall.

The Knockout rounds have been a whirlwind, but tonight felt like the final straw. His cocky grin, his teasing, the way he gloated about his contestant's win—it’s all too much. You’re still stewing over it when you hear his voice from the doorway.

“Burning a hole in the mirror there, love. What’d it ever do to you?”

You glance at him in the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his tie loosened and his shirt untucked like he owns the damn place. His hair is a little mussed, his grin infuriatingly lazy, and yet your stomach tightens in that traitorous way it always does when he’s around.

“I’m not in the mood, Niall,” you say flatly, turning back to the mirror.

He steps inside anyway, the sound of his boots soft against the carpet. “Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not my fault you can’t handle a bit of competition.”

You spin around, unable to stop yourself. “Competition? You mean you strutting around like a peacock and rubbing it in everyone’s faces every time you win? Yeah, real classy.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, but there’s amusement flickering in his eyes. “Strutting like a peacock? That’s rich coming from you, miss ‘watch my contestant steal the show.’ You’ve got the whole humble act down, but we both know you love being center stage.”

Your pulse races, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you are so full of yourself. Do you even hear the things you say?”

“Oh, I hear them,” he says, stepping closer. “And so do you. That’s why you’re always snapping back, isn’t it? Admit it—you love our little game.”

“I—” you start, but the words die in your throat because he’s too close now, his scent—clean, woodsy, with a hint of something darker—filling your senses.

“You want to know what really gets to you?” he murmurs, his voice dropping low, his eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not my ego. It’s not the teasing. It’s the fact that you feel something when we’re going at it. Admit it. You hate how much I get under your skin because part of you likes it.”

Your heart is hammering now, and every nerve in your body feels alive, sparking with frustration and something else, something hotter. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“I know this,” he says, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers curling lightly around your wrist. “If I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t stop me.”

And there it is—his challenge, his dare, hanging in the charged air between you.

Your breath catches, and before you can overthink it, your free hand grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him down. The moment your lips collide, it’s like a dam breaking.

The kiss is fire and electricity, all-consuming and frantic, mouths clashing as though you’re trying to prove something, trying to win a battle neither of you truly wants to end. His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, his grip firm and possessive. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging, eliciting a low growl from him that sends a shiver down your spine.

The world fades away—the noise outside, the glaring lights, the rivalry that’s defined your relationship. All that exists is the heat of his mouth on yours, the press of his body against yours, the way his hands roam as though he’s memorizing every inch of you.

His tongue slides against yours, and the sensation pulls a soft gasp from you. He takes advantage, deepening the kiss, his teeth nipping lightly at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. You press closer, your back hitting the edge of the vanity, and he groans against your mouth as his hands grip your hips tighter.

It’s fiery and desperate, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll lose yourself completely in him. His lips trail along your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin as he murmurs, “God, you drive me mad, you know that?”

The sound of his voice, rough and breathless, snaps you back to reality. You push against his chest, not hard enough to truly separate, but enough to remind yourself where you are.

“Niall,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He pauses, pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen and pink, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Say the word,” he murmurs, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment, your mind spinning, your body still thrumming from his touch. Finally, you exhale, your voice trembling but steady. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Sure, love. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

And just like that, he’s backing away, leaving you leaning against the vanity, your lips still tingling and your heart racing. As he walks out, he glances over his shoulder, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

You’re left alone in the quiet room, the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin, and you know—this changes everything.

...

The following morning dawns crisp and bright, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that marked the Knockout rounds. The studio buzzes with its usual pre-show energy, but you feel strangely detached, your thoughts replaying the night before on an endless loop. Niall's words, his touch, his kiss—all of it lingers, pulling your focus no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

You’ve managed to avoid him all morning, diving into rehearsals with your team and keeping your interactions limited to polite nods when absolutely necessary. But as fate—or that same meddling producer—would have it, you find yourself alone in one of the empty sound booths just before lunch, reviewing notes for your contestant. And then, like clockwork, he’s there.

“Running away from me already?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s a hint of something deeper beneath it, something uncertain.

You don’t look up, pretending to be engrossed in the clipboard in your hands. “Not everything’s about you, Niall.”

He leans casually against the doorframe, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. “Last night felt pretty personal, though. Or am I imagining things?”

Your cheeks burn at the memory, and you finally look at him, your expression carefully neutral. “If you’re here to gloat, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood.”

His grin falters slightly, and he steps inside, letting the door click shut behind him. “I’m not here to gloat,” he says softly, his tone a stark departure from his usual bravado. “I’m here because we need to talk.”

You set the clipboard down, crossing your arms defensively. “About what? How you can’t seem to go five minutes without trying to get under my skin?”

“About why I do it,” he counters, his voice steady, his gaze locked onto yours. “Because I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”

The confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. He takes a tentative step closer, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for something—permission, maybe, or understanding.

“Do you even know how this started?” you ask finally, your voice quieter now, almost tentative. “What you said back then—about my style. It felt like you were tearing me down, like you didn’t think I deserved to be here.”

Niall winces, his jaw tightening. “I know. And I was a right idiot for saying it like that.” He rubs the back of his neck, exhaling heavily. “But it wasn’t what I meant, not really. I said it because… hell, because I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you repeat, incredulous.

He nods, his expression surprisingly vulnerable. “You walked into that room like you belonged there, like you were untouchable. And I—I hated how much I noticed. How much I admired it. You had this fire, and it scared the hell out of me, but it also drew me in. So, yeah, I made that stupid comment, and then the press ran with it, and before I knew it, we were enemies.”

You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “You could’ve just said that.”

“I didn’t know how,” he admits, his voice low. “Still don’t, half the time. It’s easier to tease, to rile you up, because at least then I get a reaction. At least then I get to feel close to you, even if it’s in the middle of a fight.”

Your heart pounds, your defenses crumbling as you take a shaky breath. “Niall…”

He steps closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. “Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this, love. Tell me I didn’t ruin us before we even had a chance.”

For a moment, the room feels impossibly small, the air between you heavy with unspoken possibilities. Then, slowly, you take his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “You didn’t ruin anything,” you whisper. “But you’re damn good at making things complicated.”

He laughs softly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer. “I’ll take complicated if it means I get to keep this—keep you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, softer this time but no less consuming. The kiss is a promise, a new beginning, and when you pull back, your foreheads resting together, you know there’s no turning back.

“Well,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. “This should make the live shows interesting.”

His grin is back, full and unapologetically cocky. “Oh, love, you have no idea.”

The rivalry isn’t over—it never will be. But as he holds you close, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand, you realize you wouldn’t want it any other way.

...

The finale of The Voice is a spectacle unlike any other. The stage is a kaleidoscope of lights and sound, the energy in the room electric as the final contestants prepare for their performances. Months of hard work, endless rehearsals, and nail-biting eliminations have led to this moment—and while the focus is supposed to be on the contestants, the coaches’ chemistry has become just as much a part of the story.

Specifically, yours and Niall’s.

The once-infamous rivalry has evolved into something else entirely, leaving fans, contestants, and even the production team buzzing with speculation. You and Niall are still competitive, but the edge has softened. He cheers for your team members, and you’ve been caught smiling—smiling!—at his. The biting comments have turned into playful banter, and there’s a lingering warmth in your interactions that has everyone guessing.

“Okay, spill,” Kelly says during a commercial break, leaning over the arm of her chair to give you a pointed look. “What is going on with you two? First, you’re at each other’s throats, and now it’s like... I don’t know, some rom-com in the making.”

Blake chimes in, arms crossed and smirking. “I don’t know about rom-com. It’s more like a Hallmark movie—predictable as hell. I mean, just kiss already.”

“Will you two stop?” you hiss, glancing at the cameras, but your flushed cheeks give you away.

Niall, sitting in his chair with all the confidence in the world, just grins. “Don’t listen to them, love. Let them speculate. It’s more fun that way.”

Kelly raises an eyebrow. “See? That. That right there. The way he calls you ‘love’ like it’s no big deal. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Before you can respond, the host’s voice fills the arena, announcing the night’s first performance. The conversation is tabled—for now—but the tension lingers, amplified by the way Niall’s gaze keeps finding yours, even when the cameras aren’t rolling.

...

The finale flies by in a whirlwind of stunning performances, heartfelt speeches, and a palpable sense of anticipation. The votes are tallied, and the stage is set for the big announcement. You stand with the other coaches, your heart pounding as the host begins the dramatic countdown.

“And the winner of The Voice is…”

The crowd erupts as the host calls out Niall’s contestant’s name. Confetti rains down, music swells, and Niall throws his arms up in triumph. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he pulls his contestant into a celebratory hug, but his eyes flick to you almost immediately.

You clap for the winner, genuinely happy despite the outcome. You’ve come to respect Niall’s coaching style, even if his ego sometimes gets in the way. He’s good at what he does—annoyingly good—and you can’t help but admire him for it.

As the chaos dies down and the cameras cut back to the coaches, the host turns to you and Niall, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, before we wrap up this incredible season, I think there’s one question on everyone’s mind.”

Your stomach drops. Oh no.

The host gestures between you and Niall. “What’s the deal here? First, you’re rivals, then you’re besties—what’s really going on?”

The audience roars with laughter and cheers, and you’re about to brush it off with a witty comment when Niall steps forward, his grin turning downright devilish.

“Well,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise, “I think it’s about time we clear the air, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. “Niall, don’t you dare—”

But he does. Before you can stop him, he strides over, cups your face in his hands, and kisses you.

It’s not just any kiss. It’s a moment. The kind that steals your breath and melts your knees. His lips are warm, firm, and utterly consuming as he pulls you closer, one hand sliding to your waist as the other cradles your cheek. The crowd goes absolutely wild, screaming and clapping, and you vaguely hear Blake yelling something like, “FINALLY!”

For a second, you forget the cameras, the audience, everything but the feel of Niall’s mouth on yours and the way he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his grin as bright as the stage lights.

“Guess the secret’s out, love,” he murmurs, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You blink, your heart racing, and manage to mutter, “You are so dead.”

He just laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he turns to the audience. “Thanks for a great season, everyone!”

The cameras capture every second, and by the time you make it backstage, the internet is already exploding. #NiallAndY/NFinale, #VoiceCoupleGoals, and #EnemiesToLovers are trending worldwide, with clips of the kiss going viral in real time.

Kelly and Blake are waiting for you in the green room, both grinning like Cheshire cats. “Well, that was dramatic,” Kelly says, sipping her drink. “Even for you two.”

Blake claps Niall on the shoulder. “You’ve got guts, Horan. I’ll give you that.”

Niall just shrugs, looking completely unrepentant. “What can I say? I like making headlines.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. As much as you want to throttle him for the public spectacle, there’s no denying the weight that’s lifted now that the truth is out.

Later, as you sneak away from the chaos for a quiet moment, Niall finds you leaning against a backstage railing, staring out at the city lights. He slides his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Not bad for a season finale, huh?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You tilt your head back to look at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his gaze. “You really are insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

...

Part 2

[youhideastar]

hello!!! First I love love love your stories. I have read pretty much all of them and my faves like 10x. I’m currently obsessed with Concord, which I’ve read at least 20-30x times in the last few months. I really, really love the angst in Concord—the pain is so deep and real and felt, but they aren’t trying to be cruel to each other. I wonder if you have any recs for fics that feel the same way to you? Or fics that inspired you? I love good angst and would love any recs from you. No pressure and if you can’t think of anything but come up with something in six months, it’s an always open ask :) thank you again for sharing your writing with us. HNY!

Thank you so, so much for the kind words, and for the ask! I love the opportunity to rec some of my angsty favorites. 😄 (I'm keeping this to just The Untamed/MDZS but lmk if you want other fandoms as well.)

The Right to Care by @travelingneuritis: you cannot go wrong with any of travelingneuritis's work (shoutout also to when the sun goes out and In Imitation of Life), but this fic in particular has those Concord-esque "the relationship is the plot" and "everyone is trying and everything still hurts" aspects. It's a modern AU where, as the summary has it, "Rising young musician Lan Zhan and underpaid babysitter Wei Ying fall for each other hard." Also check out pentimento by orange_crushed - very similar vibes.

Discomfort, Revisited by @existentially-yibo: another great angsty modern AU, with a super cool flashback structure (and, bonus, great Chicago sense of place) and a Wei Ying who believes his whole life should be about other people.

keraunography by spookykingdomstarlight: a Pacific Rim fusion, also with a cool flashback structure, really brutally angsty with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian each blaming himself for the horrible thing that tore them apart.

half agony, half hope by @queenklu: a Persuasion AU, with all the smothered yearning and long-nursed emotional wounds that a Persuasion AU should rightfully have. "Five years after their broken engagement, now widowed with a child, Wei Wuxian must navigate the re-entry of Captain Lan Wangji into his life." Sticks the landing, too, after more than 100,000 words, which is NOT easy to do.

the lantern by the door by Lirelyn: modern AU zhanchengxian, which, you know, if you want really juicy angst, that is a ship that's hard to beat. Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng figure out how to make their rough edges fit together after Wei Ying dies--and then each assume, when he turns out to be alive, that the other person will choose him over them. Outstanding. (shoutout also to this author's say it's here where our pieces fall into place, a wangxian kidfic modern AU that hurts sooooo good)

These Things Stay the Same by notevenyou: Modern AU where WWX is in a train crash after switching seats with Mo Xuanyu - WWX survives in a coma but everyone, including Lan Wangji, thinks he's dead. After he wakes up, he tries to figure out if his loved ones' lives still have a place for him. (They do, but it's a painful process.)

Enjoy!!

[graciegoeskrazy]

i wish you would

(matty healy + daughter!swift-healy!r)

warnings: bit of tears, absent mother but like...not really she's just not tour but like she is?, matty being a best dad, some angst, more hurt/comfort vibes.

a/n: I told myself id do a hc for swift-heavy!r first but then I got this request and went straight to my computer so here we are lol. ty anon for requesting! I've wanted to do something similar to this for awhile but I've also been a swiftie since I was like a baby (debut came out a year and twenty days after I was born) like I've been singing our song since before I could talk so for some reason I can never write her in a 'bad light' (meanwhile I've put Matty through hell lmao) but this isn't even that bad so whatevs. love ya!

Both Matty and Taylor had always agreed on one thing - you came first. No matter where they stood with each other, no matter how messy things got between them, your well-being was the priority. No matter what. They never wanted to overwhelm you with their worlds - the flashing cameras, the stadiums packed with screaming fans, the chaos of fame - so they kept your involvement to a minimum. You weren’t a secret, they never wanted you to be, but you also weren’t a prop to be paraded around. They wanted you to have something resembling a normal life.

So, the arrangement was simple: whoever wasn’t headlining a world tour was the one you stayed with.  

It had been that way for as long as you could remember. When your father was touring, you stayed with your mom. When your mom was touring, you stayed with your dad. And when he went to rehab, you stayed with her full-time.  

At first, it felt like a sharp, painful shift - like being uprooted from one world and thrown into another. Not because you didn’t love your mother, but because it wasn’t what you were used to. Your life had always felt more settled with Matty. He was your constant. But during those months, you learned to navigate life with her. You got used to her routines, her world, her way of doing things.

And then, just as you adjusted, your worlds flipped again.

Ever since the start of her record-breaking stadium tour, you had been back with Matty full-time. It made sense. The biggest tour in history wasn’t exactly the best place to raise a preteen. And of course there were times, especially int he beginning, where you would go visit her for a week or two at a time. Your father had been more than happy to have you home, and you were happy, too. Truly. Life with your father was easy, familiar. You fit into his world like you were always meant to be there.

So why did it still hurt?  

Why did it still sting every time you watched her post clips from another show, thousands of miles away, singing songs that made people cry, making time for fans - millions of fans - but not for you?  

Another part of you felt stupid for even thinking that she could have time for you in the first place. She was the busiest person on the planet right now. You understood that. You really did. But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

You had been carrying that weight for weeks, trying to swallow it down, trying to ignore the ache in your chest every time someone at school mentioned her, every time an interview clip popped up on your feed. And for the most part, it worked. You had a good life with your dad. You were happy here.  

Why change that?  

So, you didn’t say anything. Not when she missed another one of your calls. Not when another week passed without a single text. Not when your dad noticed the way you had been shutting yourself off.  

Instead, you buried yourself in schoolwork.  

You sat curled up in your room, hunched over a notebook, scribbling down answers to math problems that weren’t due for weeks. The numbers blurred together, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to keep your mind busy. To not think about it.

You had barely spoken to your dad and Gabi when you got home earlier. A quick hug, a vague comment about your day, and then you were upstairs before they could ask questions. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to admit that it was bothering you.  

A knock at the door broke through the silence.  

“You alright?”  

Matty’s voice was soft, careful. You didn’t look up.  

“Peachy.”  

A pause.  

“You’ve been acting different lately.”  

You kept your eyes glued to your notebook. “Yeah? How so?”  

“Quiet. Distant.”  

You hummed, a meaningless response, hoping he’d drop it. But you should’ve known better.  

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”  

You could hear it in his voice - the concern, the gentle persistence. He knew something was off. He just didn’t know what.  

You didn’t answer.  

Matty wasn’t deterred. He stepped into the room, crossing the space between you. When you were younger, if you were upset, you’d blame it on being moody or having a bad day or, if all else failed, you’d roll your eyes and say, It’s the period talking, Dad. But you weren’t a little kid anymore. You were almost thirteen. More aware of your feelings. More aware of how hard they were to ignore.

“I don’t want you to get mad,” you murmured, fingers picking at the frayed edges of your comforter.  

Matty hesitated before sitting down beside you, careful, patient. “Why would I get mad?”  

You shrugged, keeping your eyes down, willing yourself not to cry.

“Did you do something, illegal?” he said, half joking, half serious.

You rolled your eyes, “No.”

“Drugs?”

“What- no.”

“Drinking?”

“No!”

“Boys?” He said, eyes narrowing.

“Dad, no!”

His effort to make you laugh hadn’t really worked. Starting to make you more agitated.

“Tell me, baby.” His voice was quiet, coaxing, the way it always was when he was trying to get you to let him in.  

You inhaled sharply, then exhaled slow, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal.  

“I just miss her.”

Matty let out a slow breath - not frustrated, just…understanding.  

“Yeah?” he asked gently.

You nodded. “I don’t like how she’s always working now.”

He took a second, choosing his words carefully. “It’s okay to be mad at her-”  

“I’m not mad at her,” you snapped, suddenly defensive. “You’re the one who’s mad at her.”  

Matty let out a small huff of laughter. “I’m not mad at your mom, baby.”  

You studied him, searching for cracks in his reassurance. The past two years had been messy - so many fights, so many reunions, so much history between them that you barely understood. The fact that they had made it back to each other at all was still something you weren’t sure how to feel about.

“Are you sure?” you asked, finally looking at him.  

He nodded. “Whatever happened between me and her…it’s nothing for you to worry about.”  

You sighed, frustration bubbling up. “So it’s just for you two and the rest of the world to worry about?”  

“Y/n…” he said in a warning, “We’ve talked about this,” he started, but you cut him off.

“Just - forget I said anything. I’m sorry.”

Matty paused, watching you carefully. Then he softened.

“Y/n, we all know - everyone knows - this tour is huge. The biggest thing on the planet right now. But it’s almost over, and when it is, she’ll be all yours again.”

“Not just mine,” you mumbled, twisting the frayed fabric between your fingers.  

Matty frowned slightly. “Y/n…” His voice was measured now, careful. “He’s nice to you.”  

You scoffed. “Everyone’s nice to me. I’m the daughter of two pop stars.”  

Matty let out a small laugh. “What about Gabi? You’ve never had a problem with her.”  

“That’s different. She’s cooler than him. And you and Gabi aren’t as famous as them.”  

“First of all - Ouch.” He said while holding up a finger. He smirked when you cracked a small smile. “Second of all - he’s probably the best boyfriend your mother has had in a long time.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. You knew he was right.  

“He loves her, Y/n,” Matty said, his voice softer now.  

“I know,” you admitted. “That’s why I never see her.”  

“She’s busy-”  

“Too busy for me?”  

Matty sighed. “No-”  

“Then why doesn’t she ever want to see me?” Your voice wavered. “I don’t even remember the last time we talked. But he gets to see her all the time. Her fans get to see her all the time.”

Matty’s face fell, and something in your chest clenched.  

“Your mother loves you,” he said. “More than anyone.”

You swallowed hard.  

“Have you tried texting her?” he asked.  

“I don’t want to send a message just for her to ignore it.”  

He learned closer. “Y/n,” Your eyes met his again, “She’ll answer.”  He said.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. But when he nudged your phone toward you, you hesitated - then picked it up.  

And typed.

[kathlare]

sunkissed entanglement

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the aftermath of a disappointing race for Lando, Amelie steps in to comfort him, navigating the fragile space between them.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 1st, 2021 - Mogyoród, Hungary

liked by lanelieshippers, f1gossipgirl, and others

amelieupdates: Spotted: Amelie looking as stunning as ever at the paddock today in Hungary! Always a vibe when she’s around. 🌟

View all 1,382 comments

f1tea: Does this mean we’re about to get some Amelie & Lando content? 👀 → speedyboi44: @f1tea We can only dream! Hope they’re hanging out together this weekend... I miss the old vibes 💔 → f1tea: @speedyboi44 Same!! Honestly, they need to stop teasing us. If they’re gonna flirt, just let us see it lol

landoandamelie4ever: Amelie at the paddock?? Does this mean we’ll finally get to see some cute moments with Lando? 💕 → racequeen101: @landoandamelie4ever If they’re gonna act like friends, then can they at least be flirty friends? They have that chemistry 😭

gpaddict28: People still hate on Amelie when she’s literally just vibing with her friends?? Get a life! → checoperezfan: @gpaddict28 Tell me about it. She’s here supporting her fam and friends, and people still can’t let go of the past. 🤦‍♀️

racefan123: Amelie really knows how to bring the energy to the paddock! Always adds something to the atmosphere.

lndolover99: Amelie + Lando = best combo! They might be keeping it low-key, but we all know what’s up. 🔥 → f1fan_321: @lndolover99 Exactly, they’ve always had that “will they, won’t they” vibe. It’s honestly cute to watch.

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

The Hungarian Grand Prix weekend had been a disaster for Lando, and Amelie knew that. She had heard the whispers from the pit lane, seen the disappointment in Lando's eyes when he walked out of the garage after the race. A DNF in Hungary was not the result anyone had hoped for, especially not for him. But she didn’t care about the race outcome—she cared about him.

Amelie hadn’t planned on seeing him after the chaos of the race, but as soon as she walked out of the Red Bull garage, there was only one thing on her mind: finding Lando.

She quickened her pace, weaving through the crowds of mechanics, drivers, and staff. She had one goal—get to Lando, check on him, and hopefully get him to talk.

With determination, she reached her destination—the McLaren motorhome. The pass Lando had given her months ago to gain access was still on her, and she flashed it at the guard at the door. He nodded without question.

Once inside, the atmosphere was almost surreal—quiet compared to the buzz outside. She walked through the corridors quickly, her boots clicking on the floor, until she reached the driver’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open without hesitation.

The sound of running water greeted her—Lando was in the shower. Amelie sighed, leaning back against the doorframe as she pulled out her phone. Scrolling mindlessly through messages, she felt her thoughts wander. It had been a weird couple of weeks. Nothing had been straightforward between them since the breakup. The way they pretended not to be something they clearly were. They couldn’t seem to stay away from each other, but neither of them had the courage to talk about what it all meant.

Amelie absentmindedly tapped her phone, her thoughts drifting to how complicated things had gotten between them. The casual arrangement they’d slipped back into after the breakup in May was barely enough to keep the tension from strangling them both. They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t have to. But the constant game of pretending to be “just friends” was wearing thin on her.

She could hear the water cut off, and instinctively, her heart picked up speed. It was absurd. They’d been here before, in the same tangled mess, pretending they didn’t want more than what they were offering.

The door creaked open, and Lando stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His hair was damp and messy, a contrast to the usually perfect, clean-cut image he liked to maintain. But today, everything about him seemed off. His eyes, tired and frustrated, locked onto her for a moment, and then his expression shifted into one of annoyance.

—What are you doing here?— he snapped, pulling the towel tighter around his waist as he walked toward the small dresser.

Amelie raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his abruptness. —Nice to see you too, Lando.—

—Not in the mood for this right now, Amelie.—

She crossed her arms, watching him as he rummaged through his bag. The tension in the air thickened, the same old pattern starting to emerge. He had this horrible attitude whenever things didn’t go his way, and she knew it. But what else was new?

—Lando, come on— she stepped closer, keeping her voice calm. —You’re not fooling anyone with that act. I’m not here to cause a scene. I just want to check on you. You’re clearly pissed off about the race—

—It’s not just about the race.— His voice dropped a little, still edged with frustration. He spun around to face her, his hands finding the edge of the dresser. —It’s everything. This whole fucking thing.—

Amelie watched him closely, her expression softening. She’d seen him like this before—lost in his own head, frustrated with the world around him, trying to hold everything together when he couldn’t. She’d learned how to handle him when he was like this.

—Hey, it’s just a race. It happens.— She moved forward, not giving him any chance to pull away. She reached up, gently cupping his face with her hand. —You’ll get them next time. But right now, I’m here, alright? Just... let me in. Let me help you calm down for a second.—

Lando’s eyes softened, just a fraction, but enough for Amelie to see the vulnerability hidden beneath the layers of frustration and anger. He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his wet hair, clearly torn.

—I don’t need anyone right now, Amelie— he muttered, though the heat in his voice was fading.

She didn’t back away, not this time. Instead, she took another step closer, closing the gap between them. Her hand trailed down his chest, and she watched the way his muscles tensed at her touch. She knew what he needed. She knew how to ease him.

Without a word, Amelie lifted her face to his, her lips brushing against his softly at first, testing, until he gave in and kissed her back. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper, as his kiss grew hungry and desperate. The frustration, the disappointment—everything melted away between them, replaced by the intensity of what they shared.

She pulled away just slightly, her lips brushing his neck as she murmured, —You’re not alone, Lando. Never are, okay?—

Lando’s hands gripped her waist, and before she could respond, he was lifting her, spinning her around until she was sitting on the armrest of the small sofa in the room. His body followed hers, positioning her in his lap as he sat down, his hands firmly around her, keeping her close.

The tension between them wasn’t just physical. It was everything they had been skirting around for the past few months. But Amelie wasn’t about to make this more complicated than it already was. They weren’t talking about their feelings, not yet. Not when it still felt like there was too much unsaid between them.

Lando’s lips found hers again, harder this time, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands roamed, pulling her in closer, as she melted into him, letting the world outside fade into nothing.

Just as things started to escalate, there was a knock at the door.

—Lando?— a voice came through the wood. —Interviews, man. You’re up next. You need to go.

Lando groaned, breaking the kiss reluctantly. —Fucking hell.— He looked over at Amelie, his expression filled with a mix of frustration and desire.

Amelie couldn't help but laugh, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. She leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow. —Guess you’ve got to work, huh?—

—Yeah, yeah, I know— Lando muttered, running a hand through his damp hair in exasperation. He shot Amelie one last look, and she could see the mix of reluctance and amusement in his eyes.

She straightened up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her top and fixing her hair. —Better go, then, superstar. Can’t keep the media waiting. You know how it is. All those fans waiting for their Lando Norris fix.—

Lando rolled his eyes but reached out, grabbing her arm before she could fully turn away. —Amelie— he said quietly, his voice softer now, though still a bit hoarse from their earlier kiss. —Can I see you tonight?—

Her heart skipped a beat, and for a second, she hesitated. This was nothing new between them. They were in this weird, complicated space where nothing was defined, and yet, everything felt... undeniable. But there was a shift in his tone that made her second guess her usual carefree response.

She met his eyes, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she replied, —You know where to find me.—

Lando's grip tightened for just a moment, and he leaned in to kiss her again, a quick, lingering touch that made her pulse race. He then let her go, watching her leave with that familiar intensity in his eyes.

Amelie walked out of the driver’s room and back down the hallway, making her way toward the exit. Her thoughts were swirling. It had been a while since things had felt so intense between them. But she was determined not to let her mind go there, not yet.

As she stepped outside, the noise of the paddock hit her again, but it seemed muffled, distant. She had to focus—focus on getting back to the Red Bull garage, and not thinking too much about what had just happened with Lando. He was her friend, after all, even if everything else between them was far from simple.

But she couldn't help but feel a little something—a little flicker of excitement—that maybe, just maybe, they were inching closer to something neither of them could ignore anymore.

[justlikeeddie]

all of layton and nikita's strictly dances ranked CORRECTLY by ME

14. Samba, Week 1

unfair to have to rank this one really because nobody really knows what they’re doing in week 1. FASCINATING to go back and watch this though. obvs this is strong in the context of a first week dance! but knowing where they’re going to go from here… this is the one and only time you can see that nikita is dancing layton through the steps and keeping him afloat. they’re not yet a PARTNERSHIP here. they don’t KNOW each other!!! anyway good luck to these boys with navigating what they are going to experience over the next three months <3

13. American Smooth, Week 10

the infamous bottom-two dance. a result which i believe was undeserved!!! but the american smooth IS the most boring category on strictly unfortunately, so it’s a humble placing for this one. i did not love their outfits, for once! why don’t they go together. why does nikita look like peter pan. however, obviously i liked it when they both picked each other up and did a little skip in the air. also enjoyed how much craig enjoyed being bammed up by the ending.

12. Rumba, Week 12

controversial to place this so low in the ranking perhaps?? obviously this was a complex routine that they performed beautifully AND was very tender and intimate. but the rumba is the second most boring dance on strictly after the american smooth i’m afraid I’M SORRY. however, points awarded for nikita saying afterwards that dancing this felt like the rest of the world fell away and they were the only two people in existence. girl what

11. Salsa, Week 5

a great dance! fun! good vibes! their first lift! followed by a bit that i like where nikita has to sort of kick layton upright again. loses points ONLY for being perhaps their least homoerotic dance, which one of them, i guess, has to be.

10. Tango, Week 6

all the ingredients for greatness are here. TANGO. HALLOWEEN. layton is in high goth drag. nikita looks a bit like paul gross as geoffrey tennant as hamlet in the flashback sections of slings and arrows s1. but weirdly i don’t think this dance quite lives up to the level of drama i expected from it. having just rewatched it i think it’s because they’re ACTING like it’s a MELODRAMA, and it FEELS like they’re acting, as opposed to the way they usually totally inhabit the narrative of a dance. however. the switch from this vibe into the denouement - the BACKFLIP (fuck!!!) - and then the breathy, drawn-out final moment, which they suddenly ARE inhabiting, braced over each other and staring into each other’s eyes like they are ON GOD going to fuck in the middle of the dancefloor, is astonishing. once again i am asking the bbc if this is what they thought they were going to air

9. Cha-cha-cha, Week 4

okay. we are entering the section of the list where everything from here on down pretty much makes me feral. layton is everything in that jumpsuit. the THROW into the SPLITS. the raw sexual dynamism somehow contained within nikita taking layton’s coat for him. unbearable.

8. Charleston, Week 12

off the charts crazy. how can people move like this. they CARTWHEELED across the STAGE for what felt like YEARS. points only deducted for the fact that when nikita cried in the interview afterwards because he loved layton so much he had to do it in this extremely silly outfit.

7. Quickstep, Week 2

they danced the equivalent of a gay leyendecker illustration in week 2. IN WEEK 2 THEY DID THIS. they’re having so much FUN here. and to follow up on the week 1 ranking, the transformation from them feeling like a professional and a celeb to two people actually dancing together happens SO fast. it’s only a week later, but already something’s changed; layton’s totally at home in the routine and nikita’s REALLY enjoying it. it’s just so nice and i love them so much :’) also the quickstep is one of my favourite strictly dances because it’s inherently funny watching grown adults run full-pelt around a room and occasionally do a little skip. perfect 90 seconds of television.

6. Viennese Waltz, Week 3

ok so this is actually one of their lowest scoring dances on the show. but NOT according to my ranking. this ought to feel as faux-dramatic as the vampire tango but it doesn’t. something is HAPPENING between them in this dance and it’s real. i could write paragraphs about the eternities contained within the long, long seconds of them holding each other after it’s over, which goes on for long enough that the editor just has to like. give up and cut away from them. i’ve been linking to the bbc’s youtube clips throughout this post, but if you have access to iplayer i strongly recommend you watch this dance as aired (i have linked to the timestamp for your convenience) in order to see the full effect of this ending. there’s something about the combination of… the sincerity of the dance. the gender of it all. the refusal to break character. nikita’s slightly baffled-looking parents in the audience lending whatever the fuck is going on here a bizarre frisson. i’m completely obsessed with it

5. Jive, Week 7

the first thirty seconds of this dance genuinely make me feel like i’m coming up. overwhelming transition from the sexy sexy opening section (why are they dressed as little sailor boys? why are they touching like that?) into the supercharged beat of the side-by-side. people pay good money to feel like this. as has been pointed out, the jive is not a traditionally racy dance, and my question to nikita as choreographer is: why

4. Showdance, Week 13

cunt. cunt. cunt. cunt. the absolute fucking serve of the matching slutty magician elbow-length gloves. nikita dropping his hat while layton executes everything perfectly. obviously in the finale, homophobia won <3 but my god. they ATE. no notes.

3. Paso Doble, Week 11

i have said this before. but dancing to BACKSTAGE ROMANCE. in a show where i (facetiously) believe they may be experiencing a BACKSTAGE ROMANCE. seems illegal. anyway. this dance is insane. almost worth them being in the bottom two in week 10 in order for them to produce the unbridled energy of this comeback. as a category the paso doble has similarly melodramatic energy to the tango, but this performance is so unlike the slightly campy vampire number; they’re IN it, they’re living and feeling and breathing every moment. something about the mood of this dance, the power dynamics of it, nikita on the floor looking up at layton in awe as he emerges at his absolute fucking fiercest - happening in THIS week, rising above the stress of relegation and the overwhelming tide of online hate, is, like, pretty incredible, tbh. also the series of searingly erotic snapshot poses at the beginning of this routine are among the worst things i have been subjected to on this show, and as you may be gathering from this list, this is a crowded category.

2. Argentine Tango, Week 8

god it was a TOUGH GODDAMN CALL on these top two places. and tbh i think this is actually, truly, their best dance. the sheer SKILL here… whatever the move is where layton has to jump in the air and kick his little leggies around… stunning. i don’t really have a comical paragraph to write about this because i genuinely think it’s an incredible piece of dance and there’s not much more to add to that. however, extra points for the truly unhinged decision to do some dom nikita roleplay at the end? again, please watch this one on iplayer to experience the full unedited effect.

1. Couple’s Choice, Week 9

as i say. probably, technically, the argentine tango is better. but if i think about any element of this routine, i immediately black out. i cannot stress enough that he is standing on his back. he is STANDING. on his BACK. nikita choreographed this dance and he was like. i want you to stand on my back. PLEASE don’t worry about it. watching this routine is like looking into the sun. if i saw two men doing this in the club i would have to politely turn away to respect their privacy. also sorry to do this for a final time but i also need you to watch this one on iplayer because nikita stays on that pole at the end for so much longer than you are expecting and then does something sooooo unnecessary. this dance should be expunged from the internet so that i never have to contemplate it again.

[cialovesklopp]

chapter one — mercedes amg

summary — contract signed, license accepted and off we go — it should have been that easy but the transition wasn’t. and now all hopes were resting on her. she truly hopes she won’t disappoint.

song — dead man walking [ brent faiyaz ]

warnings — none ( however if there is something that should have been, pls tell me )

word counts — 3.1k

cia’s quick rambles — so sorry for the long wait, so many things were happening and i completely forgot it with all the exams also coming up. however I got ahead of myself and finished the first two chapters. hope i have part three finished by next week. enjoy, this is just the beginning 🫶🏾

( masterlist / navigation / previous / next )

— august 2023

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

princessaaliyah

liked by evamueller, mercedesamgf1 and 8.927 others

princessaaliyah first day of work, wish me luck

view all 1203 comments

username so she’s the girl toto appointed as new chief technical engineer? ⤷ username i really wanna know why her ⤷ username she doesn’t exactly seem like the normal appointment

username am i the only one surprised, how quick people found her account ⤷ username same, like they are actually scaring me

mercedesamgf1 welcome on board aaliyah, we’re already looking forward to our time together  ⤷ princessaaliyah me too, thanks admin 

username so happy to see more and more diversity here ⤷ username definitely, f1 is going to fall off so hard when lewis retires

username she is so pretty and sweet

evamueller already miss you so much, it’s so boring here ⤷ princessaaliyah now you know how i felt when you did a month in greece  ⤷ evamueller taking the family jet now to come see you ⤷ princessaaliyah letting you know now that i’m broke and can’t bail you out this time ⤷ evamueller 😕

username i already love her ⤷username fr she seems to funny and sarcastic

susiewolff excited to meet you aaliyah, always nice to see a new female face ⤷ princessaaliyah thx susie, i’ve also heard so much about you ⤷ princessaaliyah think i’m hyperventilating 

username predicting it now, she’s gonna build a rocket ship

username i really hope she’s gonna be the female adrian newey and have lewis win his eighth ⤷ username never with the way mercedes has been for the past two seasons

username there’s something promising about her

username am i the only one who finds it weird that she just appeared in the middle of the season ⤷ username it’s called silly season for a reason

f1 welcome to the sport aaliyah  princessaaliyah liked this comment

username but why is there nothing about her? like her wikipedia page is almost blank, as if it’s been created yesterday ⤷ username maybe because she likes her privacy like normal people? ⤷ username apparently she’s still a student  ⤷ username how do u know? ⤷ username my cousin used to go to the same university, she also has a phd in physics and a bachelor in engineering already ⤷ username and she’s only 26

username this is gonna be a funny second part of the season

username just begging that she can finally give lewis his eighth ⤷ username and george his second win 

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

to say she was amazed was an understatement. standing in front of the official mercedes amg quarters had her star struck. even though it wasn’t her actual dream workplace, the place reeked of excellence. and it felt good to be part of that.  

just as expected it was raining in england which had her stepping out with an umbrella in her hand as she walked towards the modern complex. it was seven o’clock in the morning and the building's modern, metallic facade gleamed under the morning sun which had her breath hitch. it was beautiful and yet terrifying. 

she was doing this for him, she reminded herself. this was all for him— a gesture toward redemption, a way to ease the guilt that gnawed at her in the quiet of the night.

aaliyah smiled when she saw toto personally waiting for her at the entrance in a black team rain jacket. it fit his darth toto vibe perfectly. 

and how did she know about that? well, one good thing in her life was being an overachiever. she did not go anywhere unprepared and it was the same for her new job. between getting the offer and actually signing the work contract, she had done a full research into the world of f1 and all the lore that came with it. 

and how did she know about that? simple: overachievers like her never went anywhere unprepared. she had a knack for digging into the details, and when the job offer came, she didn't waste a second. between getting the call and signing the contract, she plunged into the world of F1, reading herself into all the lore that came with it.

she could call herself a brocedes expert now. 

“i’m happy to see that you made it.” he greeted her and the two walked inside. they passed teams of engineers and technicians moving with a synchronized efficiency that spoke volumes about their skill and dedication. 

the hum of activity, the whir of robotic arms, and the occasional rev of an engine being tested filled the air with an electric energy. he would have loved this, she thought and a small smile appeared on her face. 

this was her world, her area where she would excel. she had promised him that much and even though she was way out of her comfort zone, this was where everything came together and that created a new kind of comfort. the perfect mix of engineering and luxury cars. 

“this is bigger than i expected,” she mumbled, still feeling starstruck as they continued. many walls were decorated by massive tvs and pictures displaying the latest amg models in action, zooming through picturesque landscapes and roaring down racetracks.

toto laughed. “well, the best for the best right?”

“so what’s the plan for today? it’s seven thirty now and the only thing we’ve been doing is walk.”

“well the next race is soon so today, you’re going to see the car in its full glory for the first time. lewis and george should be arriving here soon so they can tell you a bit more about it.” 

of course, the two mercedes drivers she would meet for the first time today. she had read about them, instantly taking a liking to lewis. and she had found george to be very likable from what she had seen and heard of him. but meeting them in real life was always something else. 

it was crazy for her when she thought back that two months ago, she had just been aaliyah prince. engineering student at munich university. and now she could add the title of chef technical engineer to her resumé. her life had gone from zero to 180 in the span of a month and there was no going back. 

everything was already official, she had gotten her badge, she had signed her contract and the official f1 account had publicly announced the change. she was all in now. 

after a quick tour of the factory that had been specially arranged for her, she and toto entered a huge gallery where all of the previous race cars had been stored. she stopped in front of the famous w11, cautiously touching its rear wing while her heart started beating quicker. 

“impressive, huh?” 

she turned around and found toto smirking at her. 

“it’s definitely something. i think this was the most perfect car in f1 history, it did give lewis his seventh championship.”

there was something spark-like in toto’s eyes. “nice to know that you did your homework. and with you, i’m sure we’re going to get his eighth.”

she opened her mouth, wanting to say something before closing it again. she didn’t want it to sound wrong but she had to know. she needed assurance that her secret and past stayed hidden and buried six feet underground. 

“didn’t they ask questions? why you suddenly chose to recruit a twenty-something student from university?”

“i’m the boss, i get to do everything.” 

“i just mean, people will want to know where i am from, look me up. and that’s what scares me.”

“aaliyah, if this is about what I think it is — i’m the only person that knows about it and should know about it,” he began and closed the door to make sure no one could overhear them. “ we both talked about it, i handled it, don’t worry.”

“i just don’t want anything to come out,” said aaliyah, her voice much quieter. “and with me being a public person now—”

“you don’t want anyone to know that you have an iq of 171 and are a certified genius.”

she snorted sarcastically. “175 and believe me, my brain has been more of a curse than a gift to me.”

toto softly put a hand on her shoulder. “and i’m here for you now. i may be your boss but i’m also your friend. so if anything, and i really mean anything,” he emphasized, both knowing what they were referring to, “comes up, you tell me. call, or even come to my hotel room. there’s always a solution.”

the tour neared the end and toto led her to a special section with lots of computers and graphics. there were sketches and designs with specific attention to detail that amazed her in one way. aaliyah could feel a deep sense of admiration for the talent and dedication of her new colleagues.

and in the middle, in all its black beauty and glory stood two w14, one with a certain green-yellowish embroidering while the other had a blue one. she felt more than fascinated with them — this could become an obsession for her. staring at the car in front of her should have made her back out, maybe even run for the hills if the reports that she had read about mercedes and their w14 were true. 

but instead it sent her brain into overdrive. 

in her head she was already going over all the things she could experiment, of course under regulation of the other mechanics. this was the car she had to turn into a rocket ship and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited. 

maybe that's why she sometimes viewed her brain as a curse. it was a relentless force, endlessly questioning and analyzing, never quiet. it burdened her with insights and thoughts that felt overwhelming, leaving her longing for peace she rarely found.

she edged closer to the car, her fingers brushing against its surface, the sensation almost dreamlike. the touch brought back memories of those old sundays, when life felt simpler. she recalled sitting with her father on the couch, watching the races when the cable worked, and how he loved to point out the drivers to little aaliyah, who only understood the allure of the cars.

it made her miss her dad so much. 

the car itself was at first sight a masterpiece of combining aerodynamics and engineering with the law of physics. she could practically feel all the effort and research that had gone into developing it. her finger graciously traced the carbon fiber bodywork along, the coolness of the material sending a shiver down her spine.

her thoughts darted ahead, a whirlwind of possibilities for the car's transformation. she could already pinpoint some areas ready for modifications, envisioning tweaks and upgrades that might unlock new speeds, each idea a wave crashing against the limits of her own imagination.

aaliyah found herself so mesmerized by the car, she did not notice the two other persons enter the room. lewis and george were clearly surprised when instead of the expected elderly man, they found a young black woman standing in front of them, completely lost in her thoughts as she played with the car. they were clearly curious because except for her name, they didn’t know anything about her. 

“you must be aaliyah,” said lewis in a warm tone and she turned around, nearly jumping because of the two new presences in the room.

great, she had already ruined her first impression and and it was lewis hamilton standing in front of her. 

thank god she couldn’t spot a blush or else her face would have matched a ferrari car. “yes, that’s me, aaliyah. the new chief technical engineer. and for the record, in my head this went way better.”

they all laughed. 

george took a step forward and held out his hand. “george russell, a pleasure to work with you from now on.”

damn, he’s tall. was height a requirement to work here? 

lewis snorted. “believe me, i asked myself the same thing. 

again, thank the lord her skin was too dark to blush. “i didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

she suddenly felt small, smaller than she already was in company of the three men. lewis hamilton was beautiful, ethereal even — his iconic dreadlocks were neatly styled in a typical bun, he had beige trousers matched with the black team merch on and his fingers were adorned with all types of rings. but it was his smile that made him probably the most beautiful man she had ever seen. 

in other words, lewis reminded her of him. 

then there was george, whose tall frame and youthful energy were equally compelling and kind of attractive. she knew they would get along well, his smile was warm and genuine as they shook hands. it really did feel as if she could find her place here. 

“i’ll start again and just say, it’s an honor to be here. i can’t wait to work with you,” said aaliyah, smiling. 

“it’s great to meet you too, aaliyah,” george said, his handshake firm. “toto didn’t tell us much but looking forward to working with you.”

“it’s always great to see another female face working in this environment,” added lewis, a warm smile on his face. “and your hair looks amazing by the way. i love the afro.”

was she about to cry because the lewis hamilton complimented her hair? never. but was she about to have an allergic reaction because of that? perhaps. 

she passed a hand through her hair, untangling a few curls. “thank you, lewis. i appreciate the compliment.”

“always here if you need one, sweetheart,” he winked at her which had her laugh. 

they continued their small get-to-know-each-other as they discussed various aspects of the car and how the last races had gone for each of them. some of them were good, others horrible and manageable. the two drivers told her where they thought was the most to work on and the challenges they encountered concerning the speed. 

but as hopeful as they sounded, aaliyah knew she had to set limits to their dreams before she gave them too much and they would fall flat down on their arses. 

“boys, let me just say something,” her tone became a bit more serious, “from what i heard about the rules concerning changes, certain can give you penalties. the current setup is good, i already see some things i can change but i can’t do much for now because i need to see it in action.”

lewis nodded. “you’ll travel with us for the next races, won’t you? or will you work from the factory?”

“i think both, like i said, i need to see the car in action. so the next race, i’ll be there,” she explained. “also, i need to note that there may be several areas i believe that need significant changes from the reports i’ve been able to read. and not only will this take time but there’s a high likelihood we might need to take some grid penalties for those changed. i just want to make sure you’re both on board with this before we go any further with this.”

they exchanged a glance, both drivers listening thoroughly to what she had to say. they were already struggling and in a hard battle with the ferraris concerning the second place in the constructor’s championship. but on second thought, a few grid places lower were definitely manageable if it meant fighting at the top again. 

lewis was the first to nod again, this time towards her. “we’ll handle a few grid places. at this point, it’s anything to give those red bulls in front a fight and show them they’re not invincible,” he said firmly, determination clear in his tone. “we’ve been struggling with this car for a while now, the bumping may be gone but it’s still so slow. if you believe these changes will help us get back to the front, then we’re with you.”

“yeah, i absolutely agree. not going to lie, it’s been horrible driving this thing as it is. we trust your expertise, aaliyah. and if you think we need to take a step back to move forward, then that’s what we’ll do.”

aaliyah clapped her hands together. “that’s brilliant to hear. i promise i’ll do my best to give those red bulls a fight and make sure we come back as the famous silver arrows.”

she knew she could fix it—find the mistake and redo the equation. and if not for herself, then for him. there was no question in her mind; she was determined. she had never backed down from a challenge before.

[inklore]

after a year and a handful of months of debating on if i should, or wanted to, do commissions (and with some convincing and hyping from friends) i've decided why the heck not!

so to everyone whose ever complimented me and hyped me up for my themes and graphics thank you and you're definitely another driving force in this decision.

making graphics is therapeutic to me and i take a lot of pride and joy in doing it, from seeing everyone loving the things i create. and i want to share that pride and joy even more, sooo if you've ever struggled with making a good theme, feel too lazy to make one, need a banner for a fic or masterlist, a header, or just need someone to help your graphic vision come together; i'm here to provide!

before you commission something, or just want some examples, please check out my past work and portfolio!

PORTFOLIO | PINTEREST | ART TAG | GIFS

PLEASE THOROUGHLY READ THROUGH THE RULES!!!!

✶ all payments will be made through kofi or fiverr depending on what you're commissioning. if you'd rather go through paypal that is also a valid option just message me.

when it comes to commissioning anything details matter!!! i need complete details of what you want to be created. i will not accept something like 'floral vibe' or 'something with browns'. that gives me nothing. i need a vision, i need as much information as possible, examples (but do not take them from other creators please i will decline your commission), you can take inspo or examples from my own themes, or go through my pin board. the more details the better. the greater i can make your vision come into view. this is important!!!

i will not use other peoples art. do not ask for it to be included in whatever project i am creating. everything i make is for personal use only.

you will get two redos for me to change something you don't like about the theme. a preview of the finished product will be sent your way and you can ask for something to be completely re-done, but after that no changes will be made.

please include your user or where you want me to send your graphics within your request.

there's not a time span in which you have to use the theme or graphic for, but a week would be complimentary.

you can commission as many times as you wish after i've finished the first one.

for my own personal reasons minors are not allowed to commission things.

we do not have to be mutuals, nor do you have to be following me to commission something.

you don't have to outwardly give me credit but please do not claim my creations as your own.

if you have any questions before commissioning something my messages are always open and there is never a dumb question. please feel free to ask!

✶ fandoms i will not accept commissions for: anime, supernatural, our flags mean death, good omens (because i am not in them nor have enough knowledge on how to make the vision really suit said fandoms).

a full theme includes: a navigation banner and a header.

when commissioning a theme there are a few things that need to be mentioned and answered, so please include them in your request!

what kind of navi banner do you want? (refer to my portfolio for this, or if you just want something simplistic, big, small, medium, extra, messy, chaotic, etc)

what vibe are you going for? (dark academia, greek myth, ocean, dainty, horror, etc)

colors? (a must ok i need to know, if you give me none then i'm going to do whatever and choose what i think looks best and that's also fine if you want me to have complete creative liberties)

whats your overall vision? (can be included in the vibes section but giving me more detail is better)

text. (what do you want included on it, words, titles, information, quotes, etc)

examples. (like i mentioned in the rules examples are encouraged but do not take them from other creators on here and i will not copy, or make them look like someone else's work)

what kind of header do you want? (a simple png that goes along with the navi colors and vibe, a whole other banner-esk graphic, none, etc)

✶ see the add ons section below if you want more things included in your theme.

now these add ons are only for themes. if you commission a header only, or gif, they will have their own add on options.

$1 - for dividers that match your theme in color and vibe (if you want symbol, graphic, or anything that's not color then the price goes up a dollar)

$1 - three+ icon options (want the perfect icon to fit your theme and don't want to do the searching yourself? i got you)

$2 - content warning + minor dni banners (i'll make theme specifically to match your theme, with your user, and whatever you want them to say or look like etc)

$3 - layout + navi formatting (aka i'll come up with a completely new layout format for your navigation post + your bio)

$4 - a gif header or a gif included within the navi graphic (this is the highest price because finding clips, extracting scenes into caps, making the gif, coloring it to match the theme, blending, etc, is a lot lol)

a header commission includes: only a header. it is not a theme, just a mobile header, or a header for a masterlist, or fic.

the information needed for this commission are as listed below.

what kind of header do you want? (aka what is it for. this is important because the look is dependent on this information)

colors, vibes, vision. (more detail the better)

text. (if you want text on it, what do you want it to say, so title, etc)

examples. (not needed but a plus)

gif commissions include: gifs for your fics or masterlists. not for themes or headers.

depending on how you want these little moving pictures to look you gotta give some details.

fandom, character, scenes. (don't just say 'any scene' unless you truly want me to choose whatever scene lmao)

how many? (the current cut off is six, if you want more then there's an add on)

coloring. (you can completely leave this up to me but if you want them to be a certain color then please let me know, i'll also check with you before making all of them to make sure you like the coloring)

text. (want them to say anything? a title? subtitles? dialogue from your fic? your username on them? etc)

add on: blends. (want two characters or actors from different angles, scenes, or fandoms in the same gif? i got you)

add on: textures. (if you want added details such as a texture on the gifs then this will be extra, but i need to know what kind of texture / details you want added)

fic commissions: are only done through fiverr or paypal. if you are interested in commissioning a fic or any kind of writing then please refer to my fiverr and inquire over there or message me on here. thank you!!

✶REMEMBER TO MESSAGE ME WITH ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAVE BEFORE COMMISSIONING, NO MATTER THE TIME OR SUBJECT, I ENCOURAGE IT!

contact info: on tumblr, or discord: toldbylaur.

where to commission: kofi or pm me!

[sm-writes-chaos]

BIG Announcement! (I Mean it This Time)

Also an exciting one. I’m about (in a few months) to have a lot of free time to work on my creative projects, and what better time to decide on one of my many comic ideas?

I’ve decided to leave it up to whoever sees this and takes interest, and yup I’m even bothering the HOF tag list with this one. (It’s real important to me 🥺)

So please feel free to take a moment to look at this messy collage I have made! Including sketches of the characters and rough drafts of descriptions for each respective comic.

I’m also including a PREVIEW of each comic so you can get an idea of the vibes.

Then YOU yes YOU, can VOTE on whichever I should develop first!

I’ll then figure out the rest and tag whoever wants to see each update.

They may be in color, they may be in black and white, they may be an amalgamation of drawings and prose…but I can’t wait to find out!

—

(Zooming in is your best option here lol)

—

Some extra stuff below, so you can better make your choice! (+ plain text of the descriptions, they’re all really rough, suggestions are okay)

—

No Plan and A Baby:

“Get back here! Why would you steal a baby?”

Roy wasn’t sure what to think when a baby instead of a rabbit came out of his magic hat, but now some mysterious lady has taken the baby and he just knows he has to get it back.

He does regret it though when he discovers an organization that investigates supernatural phenomenon, and that the baby is one of their cases.

After meeting a mime who claims to be the baby’s mother, he has no choice but to protect the baby while avoiding becoming the organizations next test subject.

—

The Suburban Spies:

Aka and Leo, spy partners and spouses for as long as they can remember, investigate and bust crime organizations along with their teenage daughter Kacey.

This time though their case has an element they never could have prepared for:

Undercover as a normal family in the suburbs.

While trying to investigate one man’s suspicious activity, they have trouble navigating this new life.

But they almost don’t want to leave.

—

Cirque Des Démons:

Mae and Magna run a circus, which to them was more of a buffet. Half siblings and both part demon, they travel together and put on shows to unsuspecting victims. It’s not only until they meet Flora, an investigative journalist/ yoga instructor, do they realize someone is onto their scheme. Along the way of their game of hide and seek, they unravel a plot by an immortal seeking human threatening to take over the spirit world and destroy their home as they know it.

(I liked the thought of demons in the modern age traveling in an rv. Which they do lol)

—

Marz and The Normal Guy:

Guy Normal was living a, well, normal life. That was before met Marz, a creature not-quite-human looking for crime and an assistant to go with it. Promising he’d work with her if they solved one case, they end up going down a spiral of solving a years old mystery, and an organization who’s determined to stop them.

—

Haunted House Hunting:

(This would be a reality show with interviews style.)

Malt and Cherry are realtors, realtors who get the worst houses to sell…Including the haunted ones.

Their boss sends them out on a special job to de-hauntify prime real estate all over the town, essentially turning them into exorcists on the go.

Only, their job turns ethically confusing when the two ladies discover the stories behind each ghost.

Will they sell the houses? Will the ghosts get sent back to the grave? Or will new connections be made, dead or alive?

—

That’s about it….my babies essentially. TWUECUD is not here because that’s developed hah.

Tagging anyone who might be interesting in voting!!! thank you for your time!

@delusionisaplace @full-on-sam @honeybewrites

@thecomfywriter @paeliae-occasionally @an-indecisive-nerd

@fwiendlyone @the-ellia-west @sunflowerrosy

@squarebracket-trickster @anulithots

:)

[youreyeson1y]

short n' sweet (mimi's kpop version)

collection of short n' (mostly) sweet fics about my favourite boys !

groups included: enhypen & stray kids

tracklist:

01. taste: student council president!yang jungwon

you can't help but tease your ex's current girlfriend just to get a rise out of her, definitely not because you still have feelings for him.

tracklist to be updated:

02. please please please: jake

03. good graces: seungmin

04. sharpest tool: minho

05. coincidence: niki

06. bed chem: hyunjin

07. espresso: christopher

08. dumb and poetic: sunoo

09. slim pickins:

10. juno:

11. lie to girls: changbin

12. don't smile: heesung

author's note:

hello lovelies ! as a long time fan, sabrina's sns was an instant favourite of mine, so i wanted to do something that incorporated her music <3

some things to remember:

📌as most of the songs depict toxic relationships or talk about relationships that have already ended, but me being an absolute fluff activist, this is to lyk that the fics will not portray the literal meanings of some songs but just the general vibes.

📌and to stay with the theme of short and sweet, the chapters won't be much long (my aim was under 1.5k but then the first part ended up being over 2k 💀) so i'll try to keep the chapters under 2k.

and ofc, why not include the people that have been living rent free in my head these past few months?

this started out as a thought that i needed to write about someone other than chan and because i wanted to experiment with different characteristics and tropes; and honestly i'm obsessed with each and every one of these fics

(since we didn't get the sab x enha collab we deserved, i'm here to serve)

as this is very experimental and a totally new experience for me, i would truly appreciate any form of feedback, constructive criticism or just you ranting about your fav scene <3 every single comment or tag means the world to me and i could really use any form of motivation 💋

anyway, i hope you all enjoy !

get back to navigation?

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Yuri posting time. These are ships I personally vibe with from what I post about on here.

Higuchi and Gin (BSD): Okay, I'm not sure I can really explain this properly because it's so entwined with the plot of a particular fic I've been wanting to write about them, and I don't really want to spoil where it goes too much? Basically, I love the potential of two characters who (it's implied) got involved with dangerous work for the sake of their siblings. Higuchi's idealized view of romance contrasts with Gin's survival mentality (which is similar to Akutagawa's). At the same time, Higuchi gives Gin opportunities to express different sides of herself. They both work for the sake of others. Okay, so canonically, there isn't a lot there, because there is little exploration of the themes of BSD through these two characters, unfortunately. But, with a combination of "what if I explored the themes through these characters", some influence from O-Gin and Higuchi-sensei's works, and a touch of my own personal brand of "fuck it, we ball, and see where it rolls", I think there's a lot of fun things you can pull at.

Higuchi and Tsujimura (BSD): Not a long-term relationship. They're best friends who had a brief fling and then decided to remain friends. To me.

Wells and Sasaki (BSD): Absolute crack ship that I have not stopped thinking about since you suggested it @lucythejudge. It's so funny.

Meryl and Milly (Trigun): !!! THEM!!! AUGH! They spent!!! Eight months navigating the apocalypse together!!! Milly's smile and presence is enough to help Meryl out of her dark thoughts! Milly is unable to sleep when Meryl is in danger! Milly challenges Vash and Wolfwood when they try to stop her from rescuing Meryl! Meryl has complete faith in Milly to intervene when she has a literal contract killer pointing a gun at her head!!! They're always at each other's sides! THEY!

Coco and Agott (WHA): They give me slight killugon vibes (also maybe lumity - but I've never actually watched owl house unfortunately). Cute and pure. I hope they continue to inspire each other. :)

Theta and Morena (HxH): Saw art for this once. They haven't even interacted. But still, my brain thinks about it and goes ohohohoho

Ann and Shiho (P5R): Ahhh... they want to be strong for each other... avenging Shiho was Ann's reason for awakening... ahhhhhh

Ann and Mika (P5R): I just think Ann's canonical admiration for women who are mean is incredibly funny and so real. Get her a mean girlfriend.

Makoto and Hifumi (P5R): Okay, they hit it off immediately and also I want to see how intense they get over a game of shogi. Everyone quietly backing away from them... lmao. Also I think it's nice because Makoto could understand Hifumi's struggles with expectation and wanting to help her family, and Hifumi offers a familiar setting (intellectual, strategic) with opportunities for Makoto to expand her understanding as well as form a solid connection. They should be best friends at least!

Bonus:

This idea I had for a fucked up polycule that never actually becomes a polycule and is literally just Yosano, Wells, and Mary all being needed for some kind of research, with a stressed Tsujimura as their supervisor. There is... some kind of tension happening amidst the often inadvisable scientific decisions being made. No sex or romance actually ever occurs but there are conversations that sound suspiciously like flirting that usually end in Yosano gleefully hacking at something or someone in her temporary office, Mary nearly downing the entire grid because she diverted all the power to her latest project that then promptly exploded, or Wells vanishing then abruptly and calmly reappearing minutes later with no explanation except "the world will survive another day". Tsujimura is about ready to tear her hair out. The cat thief drops in sporadically to cause extra chaos. This too, is yuri.

[kitmoas]

maimed underneath wreckage

TGU--Season 2 Installation 1

Warnings: **18+ ONLY** **MINORS DNI*** Mommy Kink, light talk of breeding, hostage talk, light degrading, talk of weapons and magic

as usual if I missed anything let me know!

Author's Notes: IT"S SEASON 2!!! Hi Hello, the beginning of season 2 is here! It's a day late and I'm sorry. Also no editing cause fuck that shit I'm sorry if there's mistakes. Hopefully its a good intro to the vibes of season 2 :) Lemme know your thoughts even if you wanna stay anon in my inbox

Training Grounds Master List | Navigation Post | Inbox

Flickering, a small flame breathing in air as it grows slowly. Despite the darkness and the isolation, it almost feels as though the world is solid. Firm and rooted in a good foundation, but it won’t take long for that to crumble. Falling, spiraling about as if gravity no longer exists. 

Nothing in this place had longevity, changing within a single breath, a flaw in its creation. The insatiable need for peace drove the inevitable hysteria, and that’s where the structure falters. Slowly everything will become normal once more, forcing a reality check in which will leisurely chip away at the sanity within. 

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

The sounds of conversations mixing is a nice change to the beeping of the lab and the clicking of keys in the office, a light wind blowing through your hair as you allow your eyes to laze around your surroundings. The heat lamp next to you allowed for you to sit atop the roof despite the snow along the grass under the balcony. Having spent the past few months keeping your head down after your first semester into your masters, it was nice to finally be back to something a little more normal. A moment between everyone that feels cozy, and you even feel comfortable with the arm that lays along the back of your chair. 

Empty plates are scattered and you know that your brother is confused, and a bit off put, but you try to ignore it. This isn’t where you thought you would be, but it’s okay. Life is a rollercoaster and you need to start understanding that, you cannot control everything nor can you put someone else in control of the levers. You need to move on, learn to take the hits like an adult and live. 

The talk was light the entire lunch, almost cordial which felt weird,and maybe you should have taken that as a sign that this was destined for doom but you shrugged it off. You were here for fun and not everything had to be serious, which made your skin crawl because you knew that wasn’t the same mindset of the girl next to you but it was the one you were stuck in. 

“So have you thought anymore about Peter’s offer?” It never happened on purpose, the dreaded swing back. An end to almost every interaction that you have with anyone at this point, never really detangling yourself from those that left your world rocky. 

You know your brother doesn’t mean it maliciously, but you can’t help but glare at him every single time he brings up the offer. A step into the same world as those that used to be your pillars, the ones that created your world as it once had been. 

Sighing, your eyes divert as you notice the hopeful look of both your lunch companions. “You know I haven’t Cars, you know that it isn’t the only offer I have and there’s no reason to even entertain it. I have school.” Despite the want for your voice to be strong, almost commanding, it wavers on each syllable. “I don’t need another distraction. I want to do well.” 

Before you even finish you can sense the change in his body language, jaw stiffening and eyes rolling. “Personally I think it’s time you stop running from what you’re actually good at.” 

Your mouth opens, just slightly, as your tongue dips out to wet your lips. “You know damn well that I won’t ever truly become part of that world, not full time.” The low simmering anger, the one that exists in you at all times, starts to heat up. You know where this is going, where it has gone for the past couple months. 

“Running from dad and who he was isn’t going to make you happy, we both know that.” The words were out of his mouth, put out into the world, but it was almost like you lost your ability to hear. It wasn’t healthy, your coping mechanism with your father, and you know that but at the end of the day you still weren’t ready to change. It almost felt too familiar, too cozy, and the thought of more change scared you. 

An answer for his statement never came, just your footsteps in the light layer of already melting snow as you walked back into the building. The loud chatter within the food court of your student union masking your emotions, as Cassie stumbled to thank your brother for having a meal with the both of you. Only the brief reflection of them parting indicated what happened at the scene you left behind as you conceal yourself within the wave of people all heading for the coffee bar. 

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

A small stack of papers go flying through the air, hand slamming down on the large oval table. “We can’t keep acting like expansion is impossible! The world needs different types of technology so let’s give it to them!” Kate leers over the table, glaring at the projection of their end of year statements. 

You could feel the tension in the room, everyone was just a bit too scared to fight their boss. “Ms. Bishop, what….what would you mother do in this moment?” Apparently not everyone was scared, a single older man raising his hand with a strict look on his face. 

The young girl blinks, straightening her back as she stares down the table. Her jaw sets and she uses the moment of quiet to smooth down her blazer lapels. Kate settles down in her chair, allowing the smooth soft leather to calm her down more before she speaks. “Maybe you should remember where my mother got this company, yes? At the brink of forced federal shutdown, and practically bankrupt when our combined assets were seized. She destroyed the reputation of this company, disruption within the entire field, because she wanted to be rich. When I took the seat, and responsibility, of this company I swore that I would bring it back to what it could be but you all want to stay what my mother created. If that is true then security can escort you out because I will not be working with criminals. Meeting is dismissed and you all are required to go home, do not return to this building until or unless your mindset changes. We are not villains in this company and I will not entertain the idea of such ideals either.” 

Slowly each person leaves, shock on their face after being practically punished by such a young girl. They had always thought that she would be a fun loving kid, the one that was barely a good secretary but they knew she was growing into a good firm CEO. 

Letting the door lock behind the last person to leave, Kate leans back with her feet on the wood table. Sighing she rubs her hand along her face, staring out at the skyline. Her mind drifts as she tries to settle her heart rate. Memories of her favorite times plague her mind.  

“You wouldn’t dare, Mutt!” Her words held no real venom, voice cracking with laughter as she tried her hardest to keep the nerf gun aimed properly. The ginger staring down Kate as she holds you in a chokehold, her own gun against your temple. 

The body behind you shifts, the arm loose around your neck. “Bring it on, old lady, I’ll pull the trigger. I ain’t no scared lil bitch!” Everyone in the room cracks up at your girlfriend’s random accent that she puts on. 

Neither of you noticed Wanda, hovering in the back, eyes gleaming ruby. Just a tilt of her head and the brunette’s nerf gun is hovering above her hand, the two of you separated slowly. Her hands land on you and Nat is tackling Kate next to you. “Well hello, my little one. No one keeps you hostage but me, understood?” Her voice is deep, smooth as her lips move directly against your ear. 

The sight of the ginger straddling the younger girl below you, hand wrapped around her throat as the two kiss messily. You can’t help the whimper that falls from your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you try to focus on the feeling of Wanda’s hands on you, but you can’t help as your attention is pulled to the wetness growing between your thighs as you watch the beginning of dry humping. 

“Now, if Mommy’s little girl doesn’t start paying attention I’m not going to be able to take care of that issue growing between your pretty little thighs. Are you my brainless obedient hostage or not?” Her nails grips at your hips now, digging painfully into you as she tugs you backwards into her. Her bulge is prominent as she grinds purposefully into your ass. 

You can’t help but get lost in the sensation, arching your back as much as you can to feel more of the woman behind you. The sound of the witch’s annoyed sigh only turns you on more, as she lets one of her hands claw at your jaw–forcing you to nod your head. “Such a stupid little slut already?” Her other hand is pushing its way into your pants, fingers roughly swiping along your wet folds. “Do you want to play a game with Mommy?” 

Even though you are eagerly nodding your head, the claws that dig into you are forcing your head up and down as well. A sharp whistle makes you flinch, the piercing sound right in your ear as the woman behind you calls for the attention of the others. “It’s time for the puppy to learn how to breed our pretty little fucktoy.” 

Kate practically falls out of her chair at a gentle knock, the door disengaging as her secretary pops her head in. “Are you staying late? I can stay so you're not alone.” Her sympathetic smile makes the young brunette feel almost pathetic. 

Pulling herself up, politely she dismisses her and lets her know that she too is heading out. That she has a busy night ahead of her with some very important plans, but had just lost track of time. The brunette spends the next few minutes cleaning up, taking great care to make sure that her co-worker is fully out of the building before starting her descent down the stairs. A heavy sigh as she pulls up Doordash for some random pizza shop, trying once more to find a place that can take the place of her once favorite parlor.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Crickets softly chirp, a sound in the early night that still brings a soft smile to the blonde’s face, under the slowly raising moon. A chill is settling over the dead grass and bare branches, a sure indicator that another night time snow fall is approaching. It’s been a while since she felt like this, everyone around her had been so stressed out and tense but she just wanted the world back as she had fallen in love with it. That’s selfish but it’s what she wanted, even though she knows that the pain and despair she is going through is bare minimum compared to her closest people. 

“You know, when we were younger mom would also find you fallen asleep out here. She used to say that you were meant for the night. Viridescent in the moonlight.” Natasha’s smile is forced, and her younger sister can see it from a mile away. It had been for months now, if not even longer but it’s only gotten worse as each day passed.  

The hum is soft, barely loud enough to even be noted in the noise of nature. “I miss them.” Her voice breaks causing her to flinch at the obvious weakness she displayed, a quick flash too early in the conversation. 

Wrapping her arms around the blonde, the older woman takes a moment to press a kiss to her temple before rocking with her. “They loved you so much Y. You don’t even understand. When you came to us, god, that was it. We were complete and we all wanted to protect you so much. I wish we would have done a better job, we kind of failed there.” Even as the ginger looks out into the yard, a newly installed play gym shines in the dim light, she can’t help but let her mind wander to some of the best years she had in this neighborhood. 

“You…Sha, you say Mama and Daddy loved me and I knew that but why do step straight to them?” Yelena blinks up at her sister, relishing in the first sign of emotion from her. She watches her contemplate for a while, silence filled with the chirping of crickets, before she stutters out a few syllables. It ends in a stubborn snap of her jaw, the muscles there tensing as she clenches her mouth shut. “I just believe that they would enjoy it here. We will reunite with Mama soon and maybe by the grace of the gods Daddy will show, but we have people we love here. They once said that we find love grasp on tight, you remember?” 

Natasha nods, hot heavy tears filling her eyes. Forcing them down, she tries to chuckle. “The idea of that man being graced by the gods is hilarious, if anything that man would make it back to Yav in the form of one of Mom’s pigs.” At the dead end glare she receives the older woman gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “Okay, I had to walk away. Okay? Okay. I think everyone can agree that I had to. I had no other choice but to remove myself from the situation. It wasn’t fun or nice but I had to. I had to. I had to Y. Okay?” It wasn’t on purpose but her voice was getting louder and her younger sister could see the anger and desperation rising in her. 

Pulling away to sit directly facing her sister, Yelena takes a deep breath as she goes through her thoughts. She knew that it wasn’t going to be easy and that she needed to take her time, but at the same time it had to be direct and quick to make sure that Natasha didn’t run. “The situation did not require leaving, you should never leave and even Daddy spoke to that. Do you not realize that staying would have allowed you to growth instead of leaving and the entire would becoming rubble?” Internally she flinched, the words spoken were harsh but she knew what she wanted out of this. At the end of the day, she herself was angry. Her sister walked away, without a fight, and the blonde knew that she was in the wrong. No matter how much she may idolize her older sibling she has to knock her off that pedestal once in a while. 

The two sit there, for almost an hour, in silence. It’s agonizing and tedious, a feat that almost feels athletic but it ends with Yelena retreating. A gentle kiss to the ginger’s forehead as she sighs, shaking her head and heading back into the house to allow her to have some time in a calm isolation. 

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

Your brow was dripping slightly, the back of your hand doing barely anything to stop the droplet from stinging your eyes. A chorus of laughter echoes in your ears as you stare down at the facetime call, both Peter and America are frantically running towards your shared destination. “Okay, whoever gets there first needs to make sure that they try and get them to honor our reservation!” 

The boy yelps as he nods, the world rushing as he swings towards the science wing of campus. “I’m gonna beat you both!” He’s laughing loudly as he flips about, and for a moment everything almost seems normal. Just a couple college friends trying to finish some research, all of you aiming to practically overdose on caffeine. 

Trying to focus on not tripping as you exit the gym and keep up with conversation as America runs across campus, the rapid wind being Peter’s only real contribution to the call, you almost miss running straight into someone. Dropping your phone, the dreaded clatter never came and you realize that the beloved item is hovering within a glowing red orb. 

“You truly are just a clumsy little thing, you know?” Her voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as she looks up at you through her lashes. 

Frantically reaching up to your air pod you hang up your call before your friends can realize who you just ran into, literally, as you try to scramble your brain into thinking of any sort of retort. “Um.. I-” Your vision blurs slightly, but it’s then you realize she’s still crystal clear. The world around her is blurry and fogged, but as per usual she’s the brightest thing to exist. 

She smiles, a sullen thing pulling her lips, and shakes her head. “I just missed you, but you don’t have to reply.” A quick shush stops your arguing and her eyes dim for a moment. “It’s not fair of me but I just wanted to see you, just for a moment. I could never stay too far away from you for long could I?” There’s a slight cocky tone to her voice as she expresses her thoughts, her body straightening as she realizes you still react the same way towards her. 

“Why.. um.. Why didn’t you call me? I would have answered. I always would.” You try to reassure her or maybe that’s all for you, but you can’t help the words as they pour out of you. “You don’t need to miss me, I’m always at your access if you need me. We always promised that and I don’t ever want to break that promise.” 

The older woman chuckles, almost in spite of herself while she takes a few steps away. Her magic forces its way into your hand as it sets your phone there, waiting patiently for you to catch up to what was happening. It’s the last thing you feel, her scent pulling away as she moves farther backwards.

Gentle vibration that you cling to, but you never got to say goodbye as the entire world melts into nothing.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

The door closes behind her, a barely warm pizza in hand. It doesn’t smell very appetizing, but anything with cheese should do the trick nowadays. The feeling is instant, the box hitting the counter without a sound. An arrowhead slips down her fingers almost at an instant, swinging around the young girl tries to play her paranoia off casually but her shock is something she can’t. There bent over the chair is Wanda, almost in a frantic state. Her face is flushed and wet with tear stains. Her demeanor is nothing like the CEO is used to but she knows their lives have changed a lot. “W-Wanda? Are you okay? What happened?” Her concern for not only the woman in front of her, but those that connect the two takes over. 

“Please I just want to see someone, anyone. Please. Where is Tommy? Billy? I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.” The woman is sobbing, the words slurring together as she struggles to stand up. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her frame was thin. It almost looked like she had spent weeks searching for these people, but Kate was completely confused. Who was she even speaking of? Did she find a whole new group in just a couple of months? 

Taking a step towards the crouched older woman was a mistake, causing her to practically fling herself backwards. For the first time the young girl stopped, head tilting in confusion and her hand falling to her side, Wanda was scared. It was something that she never saw before, and felt like even on the battlefield she had never even seen an ounce of hesitation from her. 

Slowly Kate slips to the floor, setting the arrowhead out in front of her so that she could seem less like a threat. “Hi, Wanda? Do you know who I am?” She was starting to think that maybe she suffered some kind of brain injury or maybe she was on some sort of drug. 

The frantic woman’s bloodshot eyes snap to match the calm dark waves, and it seems to help her breath a bit better. She shakes her head, pushing away until her back can hit the wall. “I don’t… I don’t know who you are. Am I supposed to?” 

It was a possibility, a small chance, and Kate knew that it was there but hearing it stung. A woman that not only did she look up to but also had grown a large liking to doesn’t know who she is. Though the hurt was sharp, and overwhelming, the young hero tried her hardest to ignore it. She had to save the woman in front of her, she had to make sure that she was taken somewhere that they could restore her memory. 

As gently as possible the archer reaches out, palm upwards. “Can I touch you?” Her voice was soft, almost as if she was talking to a sleeping baby. At the shy nod of Wanda’s head, she smiles. It’s not a beam or bright, but almost like the beginning rays of the sunrise–soft and warm. 

Her hand never makes it there, never touching what looks like a soft sweater, instead the world blacks out and it almost feels like Kate falls into a black hole. 

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

Natasha had grown accustomed to darkness, the time of day when even the moon goes to bed. It happened to be one of her favorite times of the day, a peace that was laid over her like a blanket. When everyone else wanted to do everything during the day, she just wanted to wait for the shadow of night. She worked and thought best at the latest of times, and sometimes that backfired on her; as it was currently. 

She knew that her world was crumbling, but didn’t the destruction start two years ago? The daily life she had created was put on a pause and when she was able to hit play again, the script was rewritten. She was so far behind on rewrites and the new cast members that catching up was impossible, so she went along with what she knew. 

It’s not like she didn’t enjoy everything, nor did she not finally fall into a groove but the foundation she created was not the one everyone stood on. No, instead it had almost felt like a bridge–one laid upon the old foundation. It was strong but it was heavy upon the slowly cracking stone holding it up, time was the only thing in the way of the wreckage. 

For now this was her life, time in the neighborhood that could have been her identity. She could have been part of that family across the way, the one that is sleeping soundly currently and will wake up and get their children to school before heading to work. Maybe she would have been part of the couple that have three dogs and a cat, and work remote jobs so that they can travel the world together. 

Gulping down a thought, she hates to have the visions cross her mind. It could have been her and maybe someone else. Someone else right next to her, smiling and laughing; crying and healing. They could have survived the world together, but the fights would be corporate life and monthly bills. The two of them could have dogs and a cat or two, maybe even a kid if they really wanted. It’s a vision she sees every time she lets her eyes scan the backyard, fairy lights now twinkling dimly to allow enough lighting for safety. 

It’s then when she sees two small crimson orbs, floating. A sense of dread and urgency sinks in her stomach, her fight or flight kicking in and the need to grasp at her widow bites strong. As the circles approach, the figure being illuminated by the string of twinkling dots, Natasha realizes the familiar feeling. Taking her back to Sokovia twelve years ago, she realizes Wanda is the one once again hiding in the shadows; but this time Strucker is not a part of it. 

“Well hello Agent Romanoff.” Her voice was deeper, a bit of that old rage still there. “What are you doing out here, all alone?” 

Despite the girl being far enough out that Natasha could easily escape her, she still felt an overwhelming sense of danger. She knew what this Wanda was capable of, even if it was barely a fraction of what current age Wanda could do, and that was enough for her to let her widow bites activate. She doesn’t give the young girl the sense of pride to speak back to her, just stand at the ready. She couldn’t let her have a moment of the upper hand, she refused to feel her hex again. 

Wanda tilts her head, a mockingly curious look on her face. “Why do you seem so scared, aren’t you the great Black Widow?” She smiles widely, every single one of her teeth shining a faint red as her eyes pulse with her magic. “Or maybe it’s because your best friend Tony Stark isn’t here?” 

Blinking, slowly, Natasha tries to piece together what was happening. What does she mean? Did she lose her memory in the past couple months? Originally she had thought that maybe her magic had consumed her and that it reverted her back to a darker sense of dress, but the way she speaks isn’t something she understands. 

The one thing she is conscious of is the growing ruby orb rolling around in Wanda’s left hand, and the rapidly expanding magic glow around her. The presence of the magic was stronger than almost every moment Natasha had ever seen of the other woman. It scared her and that was the only thing that saved her as she jumped out of the way of the impending attack. 

Except it never happened, the world blurring almost as if her magic stole the ginger’s sight. 

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

Chaos, that’s the only word that can really describe what is happening. It’s only a moment after the world blacked out, only a moment since three lives were blurred and melted back together. 

You didn’t really understand what happened, just a moment ago you  were staring at Wanda for the first time in months and now you were in some random room with people freaking out all around you. She was standing, somewhat away, trapped in a box. She looked confused, but almost at peace, and you wanted to help her. She had been caged before and you never wanted her to ever feel like that again. You didn’t even get to take one step towards her before you watched her start to glitch, almost like a computer screen, before she just disappeared. 

Swinging your head around you tried to find someone who would tell you what was happening, but that’s when you saw her. Kate, your archer, wait no. Kate. Just Kate. She was on her knees, talking to another Wanda who was curled up in a ball crying. It was only another second before that one turned to static. You watched as the brunette frantically stood up, begging for help from the first person she could find. 

Next to her, with shocked eyes, stood Natasha. Her arm is held up by the CEO as her voice gets caught in her throat, but her other hand is outstretched to where a crimson fog is dissipating. The two stare at each other for a moment before Kate apologizes, trying to leave the situation in a professional way. 

In the crowd you blend in, hiding yourself as agents and other Avengers run around. There’s screens and machines all around, things you don’t really understand as everyone is trying to piece together what could be happening. You almost couldn’t tell if you wanted to be seen by the other girl, or even by the widow. Your soul and heart craved her attention, and you knew that your body would relax just from the sight of the ginger’s eyes, but how could you look at them? You had destroyed their lives and now you must live in the ruins of it. 

“ENOUGH!” The loud voice of Dr. Strange freezes everyone, and for a time you think you’re safe. It’s until everyone turns to you, the summoning from the stupid wizard, that for the first time you drown in the salty blue of the eyes you missed most. It was pain, a stabbing through your soul that you knew you would never survive. The need for her attention, even the most miniscule amount of it, was like oxygen. You need it to live, and for the past few months you had none. 

You weren’t sure what any one spoke of, people pushing and shoving not only you but the other two to the center of the floor. A large table there that now seated the rest of the Avengers, three empty chairs left. Even though there is yelling and arguing around, you can’t help but stop. You want to just look at them, forcing your eyes away from Kate was a mistake as you struggle to stay still. You wanted to run to the widow, get on your knees and beg her to come back. 

It was a clearing of a throat that interrupts your thoughts, stern and firm. “We need to discuss Wanda.”

[mushroomjar]

Did you think I forgot about it? The Halloween vocaloid playlist is done!! I'll include the links in a reblog so Tumblr doesn't bury the post, there's a YouTube playlist and a Spotify one, the YouTube one being the longer one with nearly 100 songs... yeah, I got carried away lol Reminder for those who have forgotten/not in the know, this playlist starts with cute lighthearted songs about Halloween and monsters, and gets darker in tone and sound the deeper down the playlist you go

I don't want to make the post too long so I'll just include a general content warning for the songs in the playlist, and under the cut I might list all the songs and ramble a bit about what it was like to make the playlist. I hope you enjoy!^^

Content Warnings: flashing lights, bright images, loud sounds and jumpscares, disturbing images and noises, death, body horror, gore, cannibalism, abuse, stalking, potentially paranoia-inducing songs/lyrics

The playlist has been done for days, I've just been procrastinating on actually making the post until now lmao sorry! I had a lot of fun making the playlist and going through the suggestions, it also made me fall in love with some producers I hadn't paid much attention to before (shout out to all of the people who sent in Babuchan suggestions, as you can see I went down a bit of a Babuchan rabbit hole and added tons of his stuff to the playlist, same for machigerita lol)

I'll admit that one of the reasons the playlist kept getting longer was because I'd look at other creepy/scary vocaloid playlists on YouTube for inspiration, and every time I was nearly done I would write down 20 more songs to check out, which is why it took me a whole month to get this playlist done lol. I hope it was worth it! I'm very pleased with how it all turned out

There were also many songs/producers I really liked but decided not to include in the playlist, for example I found DaijoubuP, who I really like, but I didn't think it fit the vibe of the kind of Halloween playlist I wanted to make, so none of his stuff is in the playlist. Same goes for SEIKAI, his songs sound very creepy but I found the lyrics a bit too dark and I wanted to try to keep the playlist a bit more lighthearted. Maybe I'll make a more general vocahorror playlist sometime to highlight all of these producers' work! Who knows

Something else I realized because of this playlist is my standard for creepy vocaloid music might be a bit different than other people's. I got many Maretu suggestions, and I love the guy and completely understand why some of his music was suggested (such as Coin Locker Baby), but it surprised me just how much I'd see him suggested in the notes of my post or in Spotify playlists, he's never really given me the creeps even with his darker lyrics. Not judging! Just an observation I had

You'll notice that I've been using vocaloid as a bit of an umbrella term, since there are a couple of songs that use UTAU and even Synth-V voicebanks^^

I think that's all I have to say for now, so I'll just list all the songs in the playlist and hurry to put the links in a reblog! Thank you so much to everyone who helped with the playlist, all of your suggestions were really appreciated, I would not have as good a playlist if it wasn't for you^^

The song list is mainly because I tried to link back to the original producers whenever possible, and also sometimes the songs were very hard to find, so a lot of the titles are in Japanese, so I figured having the songs and producers written out here would make it a bit easier for you to navigate the playlist^^ Anyway, songs:

Happy Halloween - Junky

SLASH/ER - Circus-P

Ghosts Play To The Audience - PinocchioP

Kikkai Kettai - Meddmia

Zen'yasai no akuma - mayuko

Furaan Furaan Zombie - nem

Fake-Cryer Pumpkin - CycleP

Zen'yasai no kuroneko - mayuko

Halloween Patisserie TrickaTorka - machigerita

Halloweenya - Chinozo

Dream-Eating Monochrome Baku - nem

Creepy Toast - CircusP

Pumpkin March - momocashew

Selfish Princess - fujiwo

Pumpkin Head Spooky Dance - machigerita

Dream Meltic Halloween - machigerita

Giga giga witch - Kurosawa Madoka

Trich, Trach, Trick Parade - sasasaP

Happy Hollow And The God Club - Nanou

Saa, Docchi? - HINATA Haruhana

Propaganda! - Crusher-P

What Gave It Away - R.I.P

Shadow Shadow - Azari

Splatter Party - Camellia

Who? - Azari

Pandemic - YuugouP

Twilight Homicide Song - Kiraboshi Hikaru

Greedy Halloween Candy Nights - machigerita

Gochisou - Xitoo

Spiral-Luvox - Tune Tonic/Switch

Mrs. Pumpkin's Comical Dream - hachi

trick and treat - OSTER Project

Strange Masquerade Halloween - machigerita

Oxidation And Dream Monsters - Ghost

Oz no Kaitai Show - Ankoku DouwaP/Joruzin

Sadistic.Music Factory - cosMo@BouSou-P

Hourglass - HiiragiKirai

Dance With The Dead - Ghost

Alice of Human Sacrifice - Yugami-P

Candy Addict Full Course - machigerita

The Boy Who Went To Hell - SHUDDER

Crazy Clown - Intro-P

Ideal Picture - NanoritaP

Serial Contraption of Malice - Ghost

Twins - Babuchan

Not As It Seems - Creep-P

Amydgala's Rag Doll - Ghost

Hyouhon Shoujo - Kiyozumi

Rotten Girl, Grotesque Romance - machigerita

Grotesque Love Song - shoutarouP

That Woman - shoutarouP

Musunde hiraite rasetsu to mukuro - hachi

Hide And Seek - Ho-ong-i

Tokeru Sakana - Yuzuri_Hal

Greetings From The Bottom Of The Well - machigerita

Color & Electricity - mushiP

Patchwork Toxin - machigerita

Bacterial Contamination - Kanimiso-P

Song for Great Satan - Nanka-P

Taiyou-sama - Abuse/Abuse-Ken

Fear Garden - Chaa

Despair The Burguer Factory - Groy Anderson

The Cyclops - David K.

Tears of Artificial Flowers - Babuchan

Moon Prescription - Babuchan

Rugrats Theory - Crusher-P

Monochrome Ward - Yugami-P

Bone Dead Mansion - Babuchan

50/50 - Risshuu

Dark Woods Circus - machigerita

Wide Knowledge of the Late Madness - machigerita

Tell me you'll love me - Babuchan

After School - Okashi-P

Lavender Town - neku

???????? - SocialPhobiaSynaps

behe-laino_hotza-bihotza - sakizakisaki

In A Rainy Town, Balloons Dance With Devils - hachi

Sand Gum - MOL.

Nodoka na Kyuujitsu - HikkieP

Broken Toy Mania - Babuchan

Red Flower - Babuchan

Cry Baby - Babuchan

Fuzai - MondaijiP

Boku Yaranai, Kimi Itooshi - nicol

Ant Observation - Healing-P

A 13-Year Old Killer - Sunazame

0 People's Waltz - Babuchan

Varicella - Babuchan

Kagome Kagome - Zawazawa-P

potatoman - MondaijiP

Okaasan - machigerita

VOCALOID UTOPIA - dennoko-P

Hyperpnea - Hikkie-P

Crushed Mary - Mondaiji-P

Nakazu to mo Rokkaku Wrench da Hototsugi - MondaijiP

Complex - Watashi no koko