#and all of a sudden it's they/them constantly

[sunrizef1]

The Way

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ex!reader, Charles Leclerc x reader

Authors Note: yo soy tired | multiple fics in a week who is this diva

Warnings: Break-ups, cursing, max is an angsty boy, not proofread

Word Count: 4.5k

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: You and max had been in love once upon a time. Now, well…. It was never supposed to be this way.

It was never supposed to be this way.

When you and Max had started dating, you hadn’t planned for it to end with a messy breakup that had both of you looking the other way with even a mention of the other’s name.

You’d like to preface by saying the breakup wasn’t your fault. At least, not entirely. You were just done dealing with the way Max constantly put you on the back burner for racing, even with you in a car just a few garages down from his own.

Last season, it hadn’t been that much of a problem. In a Williams, you weren’t often faced with the Red Bull drivers. They were fighting for podiums, you were fighting to even be in the points.

But in the offseason, you had been moved to Mercedes. Now, he was all you could see.

The press seemed to have caught wind of your break-up as well because, as opposed to before, now it felt like you were placed in the same conference as him every. Single. Time.

You’re not sure if it’s all bad, though. Because now, you get to see the look on his face when reporters comment on the unprecedented pace of the Mercedes while Max is stuck with comments on Red Bull’s recent dip in performance.

“You’ve won again,” The reporter starts, smiling at you as he stands, “That’s three wins in a row and three 1-2’s in a row as well. What do you have to credit for this sudden switch in Mercedes’s luck?”

You smile as he talks, lips forming a sharp grin, your thoughts barely held back, “Well, we could start with thanking me, no?”

You say it jokingly, some laughs echoing around the small one as you say it. George, who’s sat next to you, pats your shoulder proudly. Max is sat on his other side, having gotten a p-3 in the race. But, from what you heard, it was no easy feat, he’d fought the car the entire time, having had to rely on both the Ferrari’s DNFing to get the podium. Even then, he’d finished thirty seconds off of George.

“But I’d say it’s a combination of things,” you begin again, taking the question seriously this time, “The team is great, the car gets better every weekend, me and George are both putting in maximum effort week in and week out to maximize our performance. It also sometimes just comes down to relying on our competition to do worse than us. Recently, it has seemed like we are just running better than some other teams.”

If people want to see that as a did, you’ll let them. You were never one to mince words. Especially not about Max. Never about him.

The journalist seems pleased, most likely already picking out adjectives he’ll use to describe your tone when he writes his article. Snide, petty, confident, arrogant. You wouldn’t mind any of the above, truly.

The line of questioning moves, reporters turning to Max. That’s when you stop listening. You didn’t mind knowing he could see you succeeding right in front of him but even looking in his direction still makes your stomach turn.

You don’t look his way, don’t listen when they ask him about the race, don’t want to hear his voice, don’t want to see his features, set up in a way he only looks when he’s deep in focus. A face you had stared at many a night, watching as he told you every detail about the race from his point of view, his fingers fidgeting with whatever was nearest by. You were never sure if he even knew he was doing it. You’d stare and he’d talk. Then, he’d pause his rambling, noticing your stare, and a grin would paint his face. Then he’d lean in, laughing as you tried to pretend you hadn’t been enchanted by his features as he talked.

So, when Max starts talking, you lean back in your seat, hiding behind George. Your eyes drift close and you try to pretend you're anywhere else, not listening to your ex-boyfriend try to save face in front of tens of cameras.

You can’t really believe that, at one point, you’d been happy. Mentioning his name had once upon a time made you the happiest person on earth. Now, the name fills you with a sense of dread and you can feel the unresolved anger bubbling just under the surface.

It was never supposed to be this way.

——

Max is fuming.

It seemed, these days, he always was. But, right now, at this moment, he’s angrier than usual.

He’d finally won. Thirteen races deep into the season, he had finally won. It hadn’t been easy. He wouldn’t have won, if it weren’t for Mercedes double pitting just before a safety car had given the rest of the grid free pit stops.

Then, you and George had gotten taken out by a rogue Alpine and a Haas, the pink car trying to overtake the Haas and missing, sending the American car into the back of George, who had no choice but to watch as his car careened into your own.

So, having no sight of a black race suit on the podium, Max was happy.

He’d won, getting to celebrate with the Ferraris, a pair of people he held in the highest esteem, a racing legend and one of his closest friends.

It was a nice podium too! His team had come, he’d relished in the sound of the Dutch anthem as it blasted around the track, fans and team members in Red Bull gear all celebrating the long-awaited win.

It was what happened after that had made his anger spike so badly.

Max is walking off the podium when it happens. His skin is sticky and his hair is damp, his face still flushed with the heat of the race. He’s a little light-headed, the warmth in the car still sticking around to make him a little dizzy.

But he’s happy, a feeling he could get used to feeling again. It seemed like it had been so long. So long since he truly felt joy coursing through his veins.

He walks down the steps, prepared to hand his trophy off to a Red Bull employee to handle it for him. The empty champagne bottle had already been taken from him, whisked off to be discarded.

Lewis is walking just in front of him and he knows Charles is drifting behind him, having walked off last. Lewis gets down the steps, waving a goodbye to the Dutch man with a smile, walking off to, no-doubt, clean up from the event.

After saying bye to the Brit, Max turns to where he knew Charles had been, ready to comment on the race. But where Charles should be is nothing but empty air.

He glances around, looking for his friend. What he’s met with makes his eye practically twitch. Maybe it does twitch, he’s not in a right enough mind to know.

He sees Charles, turned away from his gaze, his red suit the only thing on display to the room. What gets max, though, is the arms wrapped around the Monagasque’s neck, black sleeves adorned with sponsors making it obvious just who the arms belong to.

Max isn’t sure if Charles knows that he can see the two of you. If he does know, he’d surely be getting an earful from the Dutch man for knowingly putting him through this. But Max is pretty sure he’s unaware when a laugh echoes between the two of you and suddenly you’re unwrapping yourself from around his neck and grasping his hand in your own, promptly setting off down the hall, pulling him along with you. He lets you, prompting a wide smile on your lips, something he hadn’t seen in such close proximity in a while.

It makes him angry. Everything about it.

The way you don’t seem to care that you lost, when every loss of his own had plagued Max’s mind like a disease, resting in the back of his head and ruining every thought.

The way you seem happy now, even without Max. You seem to have moved on, finding happiness somewhere else when Max hadn’t even gotten a whiff of it until he had crossed that finish line first.

The way Charles seems to think this is okay, letting himself get involved with his close friend’s ex-girlfriend, someone he knew Max wasn’t completely detached from.

More than anything, it’s the way that Max can’t stop thinking about it. The sight is burned into his mind, he can practically see it on the back of his eyelids when he closes his eyes. The sound of your laugh mixed with Charles’s echoes in his brain, taunting him, making him insane. He can still see your hands, running through the hair at the nape of Charles’s neck, not even caring that he was, no doubt, dripping with sweat and champagne. It’s the sight of you two running off, Charles letting you lead him away immediately after the race, something Max had never let you do, the Dutch man too laser-focused on celebrating his win to indulge you for even a second.

In hindsight, he should have been celebrating with you. The love of his life. That’s what these guys lived for, right? Stepping out of the car or off the podium and straight into the arms of the person they love, all cares forgotten in that hold.

Now that he no longer had the thrill of winning to hold him over, he truly felt the absence you had left in his life. Every day, he tried to move on. But you were still ingrained in his life, in him.

He found hair ties sometimes. In the glove box of a car he hadn’t driven in a while, hiding on a ledge in his shower, deep in the pockets of his jeans. They all reminded him of you. They all got thrown away.

You haunt him.

It was never supposed to be this way.

——

“Charles!” You’re laughing, running through the paddock, Charles hot on your heels.

It had started as a joke. He’d made some self-deprecating comment about his hair, made in passing. You, apparently to your detriment, had agreed with his comment, causing your own giggle.

Charles, ever the prideful, had scoffed, promptly trying to tackle you onto the couch of his driver's room. You’d escaped, running out of his room.

That’s how you got to this point, laughing loudly as Charles tried to navigate his way past the crowd, weaving between bodies and people who just couldn’t seem to get the hint that they should get out of the way.

You look behind you to see how close he is, not realizing until it’s too late that you’re about to run into someone. The someone in question moves away after the impact but you’re still hurtling toward the ground. But the hit never comes. Instead, your arm is caught and suddenly you're pulled up and spun into a pair of arms, holding you close, strong but gentle.

Charles looks down at you, a smile ghosting onto his lips, “Got you.”

You smile softly as well, looking up into his eyes, “You did.”

You stay there for a few moments, simply basking in the other’s presence. It had been a while since you had let yourself be happy like this.

What had started as a way to get back at Max had become your life, body, and soul. The way Charles held you could become your religion, the words he whispered at night your bible. You could worship at the altar of this love until the end of your days, your only sin being not devoting yourself sooner.

Charles is perfect. Attentive, kind, caring, a good listener, and, most importantly, he didn’t ignore you. Didn’t pretend like you didn’t exist at the paddock, knowing just as well as you do that this world is as much your own as it is his.

Your hands, that had been resting against his chest, reach back to pull his arm off of your shoulder, your fingers ghosting along the skin of his arm until they reach his wrist. You look up at him for a moment, eyes twinkling, before your attention turns back to his arm or, more specifically, the dainty black band around it. You hook your finger on the edge of it, pulling it off of his wrist and holding the hair tie between your fingers.

You were about to put your hair up, knowing you were about to escape and run from him again. But he didn’t need to know your motives, he just carried a hair tie with him all the time, having barely taken it off since the first time you’d handed it to him.

Once the hair tie is securely in your hair, you’re off again, Charles figuring out your ruse just a second too late. His realization is accompanied by the shout of your name, a laugh, and his own run as he tries, and mostly fails, to catch up to you.

It was lovely.

For everyone except one person. The very person you had run into a few minutes prior before not even noticing who you’d clashed with, not even bothering to utter an apology in his direction.

For what it’s worth, Max had walked away as soon as he could, retreating to the Red Bull hospitality he’d just come out of, having to pretend he wasn’t staring (or seething).

He had tried so hard not to think about you. God, he’d actually thought he was succeeding too!

Then the very god who’s name he’d just used in vain had quite literally thrown you at him, your perfect boyfriend in tow. If that’s even what you guys are. Neither of you had commented on it and the media hadn’t gotten enough of a rumour to ask.

Had he done something to deserve this? Had he cursed some god that had come back to haunt him? They wouldn’t be the only one haunting him, it seemed. You are everywhere.

On podiums, in interviews, on billboards, magazines, social media, parades, events completely unrelated to F1, everywhere. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried.

This had to be some sort of eternal punishment.

He used to be the person you’d run to after a good result, looking for solace in his arms.

Now, you didn’t even notice it was him even when you ran smack-dab into him.

It was never supposed to be this way.

——

If there was some deity out there that hates Max, the same one must love you.

Because you couldn’t think of a better conference than the one you were in right now. The top three: you, Charles, Max. All together on one couch. What could go wrong?

Max’s jaw is set, his eyebrows forming a straight line, betraying just how angry he is to be up here with the two of you.

Charles, on the other hand, couldn’t be happier. A grin is on his lips, his hair ruffled from his helmet (and your hands), his face full of the post-podium glow, his skin flushed and, thankfully, no longer sticky with champagne. He occasionally leans over to whisper something to you, his words much quieter than the giggles they cause.

You don’t know if Max is looking. You don’t care, really. Well, you care in the sense that you would love for max to be fuming on the other side of that couch. But you don’t care in the sense that it wasn’t your priority in your interactions with Charles. Not anymore.

The questions start, most being aimed toward the winner of the race, Charles, sitting next to you.

A question gets aimed at Max and Charles, not truly listening, takes the distraction of the audience to lightly grasp your hand in his own, before looking back to Max. You know he isn’t doing it to rile things up. He’s just happy and he wants to be happy with you.

It’s when Max is done talking and the attention is brought back to you for a question, does the reporter take pause. You can see the gears turning in his head, eyes flickering between your faces and your intertwined hands.

You pretend they haven’t noticed, raising your eyebrows to prompt the reporter to ask a question.

He does, an edge of humor in his voice, “First off, you two have anything you want to tell us?”

Laughs echo around the small room and you shake your head, a soft smile on your lips, “Nope.”

The reporter narrows his eyes, his grin not fading in the slightest, “Well then, I want to ask what fuels you when you race. You seemed so alive out there, so exciting, I wanted to ask what has changed.”

You can’t help yourself, your smile widening exponentially despite your best efforts, “Well, I’m just very happy, I guess. I know I’m not known as the most smiley person but life has just…. Been treating me very well recently.”

The reporter nods, smirking as his eyes pass between you and Charles, “Anything to do with a certain Monegasque?”

Charles, ever the comedian, furrows his eyebrows, muttering a quick “Who?” Under his breath, making you snort.

“Um-,” you start, trying your hardest not to laugh. Then, you look to your side and Charles is just staring at you, the softest look on his face as he watches you speak, “No comment.”

That’s enough for the reporter, who sits down, happy with the information he had managed to get.

The rest of the conference runs quickly, questions being split between the three of you pretty evenly.

You and Charles leave together, hands clasped together as he spins you around, asking you questions about evening plans between well-timed spins, both of you moving in some kind of child-like joy.

There’s a song playing from a speaker somewhere, a soft, floaty rhythm that fuels your movements. It’s almost psychic, the way you both move in tune with the other.

Max had never liked to dance, writing it off as silly or frivolous. You’d offer him your hand and he’d wave it away, leaning away from your hand and unknowingly leaning farther away from your relationship as he did. It couldn’t have hurt him to entertain your happiness just for once during your time together. But apparently it did, based on how he’d react like you had burnt him whenever you even suggested dancing.

Now, Charles was spinning you around without you even having to ask, humming along to the song playing through a speaker in an unknown location, eyes locked on you to trail your every movement.

It wouldn’t be so bad if this isthe way it was always meant to be.

——

The last time you think about Max in any significant way is a relatively inconspicuous day.

It’s a race weekend, just like any other. But this time, your home race. You were always fond of these weekends, when you get to be in your own country, racing on home soil, knowing the people in the stands, the people of your country, are rooting for you.

The past two seasons you’d been racing at the track, Max had won both times, getting to raise his fist in celebration in front of your fans, in front of your country.

Maybe that’s what makes you want the win so bad. What makes you try and overtake just a tad bit too aggressively, what makes Max go off the track, losing the position to you, Charles and Lewis funneling past him as well.

To anyone watching the race, it would look like a clean overtake, Max just having lost control over the car. But you knew what it was. You had known Max. Maybe not now, but once upon a time you had, and you also knew exactly what to do to make him stumble.

You hadn’t meant to do it, hadn’t meant to send him off. You also knew you weren’t going to get penalized for it. If you had any focus that wasn’t already on the race, you’d probably feel decently guilty. But your race engineer chalks it up to a racing incident, focusing your attention on Carlos in front of you, the only thing between yourself and a win.

In the end, after a well-executed overtake and your simply outpacing the Ferraris, you take the win.

It’s euphoric, if you had to describe it. Flags of your country wave in the stands, signs with your face and shirts adorned with the Mercedes logo decorate the crowds.

You quickly stand on top of your car, holding your arms out to the crowd around you, relishing in the sound of their cheers and screams.

Charles is standing next to your car when you turn to the side and you let him catch you as you jump down. You throw yourself into his hug, grasping him tightly as he rocks you back and forth. You can barely hear him through both your helmets, the words “I love you” just barely passing through.

He leans back, flipping up his visor and pushing yours up as well. His eyes lock on your own, fueling the tears already pooling in your eyes.

You know you have to pull away eventually and when you do, Lewis is standing behind you, quick to pull you into a tight hug. He knows how much this means to you. In your time in the Ferrari hospitality, he had become quite close to you, quickly becoming one of your closest friends.

He lets you go after a few seconds, shouting something about being proud of you through your helmets.

Once he’s dropped you, you turn toward your team, running straight into their arms. It’s something that could never be replicated, the joy you feel in this moment. You were with the people you love the most, succeeding at the thing you love the most in the place you love the most. It’s a perfect moment.

You eventually have to pull yourself from the grasps of their team, Toto landing a particularly spirited pat on your head as you do, making you laugh.

You let Charles walk you over to get weighed, throwing his arm around your shoulder, Lewis walking along on their other side. It’s nice, having people that care about you like this.

George is in the room when you go to get weighed. He hugs you, you smile and hug him back, whispering a quick “thank you” to the older man. He smiles back, patting you on the back before falling back into conversation with Lewis.

You pass through the process passively, not bothering to pay too much attention to the room around you, your brain somewhere else. Somewhere floating.

Then you’re up on the podium and everything comes back into focus.

Your anthem is playing, the music floating through your head, bringing every happy memory here back into the forefront of your mind.

They hand you your trophy. It feels like it fits in your hands perfectly. You stare down at it, trying to memorize every detail before you set it down, replacing it with the oversized bottle of champagne.

Charles is standing beside you, though you’re not looking at him. You know he’s looking at you but you can’t tear your gaze away from the crowd below, spreading out across the track, shouting your name.

Then, the champagne comes. You don’t even fight it as Lewis and Charles both immediately aim for you. You can’t do anything to get away so you let the alcohol hit you, the liquid seeping into the fabric of your fireproofs and causing a chill to run through your skin.

You try your hardest to aim the bottle onto the Ferrari’s, giving up when you can’t beat them, instead aiming the bottle onto your team down below.

After the bottles have run out, you’re left standing, sipping on the champagne that is left and trying not to feel the cold liquid on your skin. It almost feels lonely, just for a second.

But then Charles is there, wrapping an arm around your waist and looking out onto the crowd with you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting you bask in the sound of your name being cheered by thousands of people.

Lewis pats you on the back as he walks by, prompting you both to snap out of your staring, looking at each other with matching smiles.

As for Max, he’s below, standing on the edge of the crowd, not a part of the celebration, not sharing in the joy.

He had finished fifth, but he didn’t care about that now. Now, he only cares about you. The vision of you, grinning on the podium, eyes welling with tears as you look out on the crowd chanting your name. The sight of Charles pulling you into his arms, landing a warm kiss on the top of your head just before he pulls you off the podium, disappearing down the steps.

He wanted to be mad, he really did. He wanted to storm over and yell at you for passing him the way you had. But, to the outward eye, there was nothing wrong with the pass. Yelling at you would involve admitting that your only crime here was knowing him better than anyone, a fact he absolutely refused to acknowledge.

Besides, he couldn’t be mad. No matter how much he tried to be, he just isn’t. Not at you, at least. Maybe at Charles. Maybe at Carlos who had fended him off for 6 laps at the end. Maybe at the car for just being disappointing. But not at you. The anger would be misplaced. Fueled by the fact that he had lost you and couldn’t do anything about it.

His race engineer had tried to support him, Liam had tried to distract him. But he wasn’t having it. He couldn’t have it when you were looking at Charles like that.

He knows that, in another life, it would have been him standing next to you, by your side for your big moment. He refuses to acknowledge the idea that he probably wouldn’t have stayed by your side, his feet carrying him off the podium quickly, racking his brain to figure out why he hadn’t won instead of celebrating the fact that you had.

But it could have been him. It should have been.

But it wasn’t. It isn’t.

You have moved on. Found happiness in Charles. True, real happiness.

That’s when Max realizes, maybe this is the way it was always meant to be.

——

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i am sick rn ;((((( so how about pure vanilla and shadow milk (separately) taking care of a sick reader? i need my silly lil guys doing their best (or worst LMAO) to take care of their beloved -galaxy

Here you go! Hope you feel better soon :(

.....

Pure Vanilla

As a healer, it's only natural that he's the first cookie you called when you started feeling under the weather.

You're certain that you caught a cold from the snowy mountains of Dark Cacao Kingdom while accompanying him to a meeting a few days ago, as your doughy body hasn't stopped shaking since your return despite all attempts to warm yourself up.

Today, you woke up feeling achy all over, barely able to finish your tasks around the kingdom without becoming dizzy or getting sudden chills.

So you've put on bedrest until you feel well, asking one of the bluebirds to send PV a message.

Within the hour, he shows up at your place, bringing some good natural remedies to your bedside.

He also brought some hot jelly soup for when/if you feel like you could eat something light.

While his healing magic mainly extends to injuries, it's able to relieve the aches that plagued your dough.

But he discourages you from jumping up right away, as it took time to work.

Even though you think he's worrying too much over your simple cold, PV admits that he felt partially responsible for getting you sick because he asked you to attend the meeting in the first place.

You tell him that's not true, as you wanted to go and he couldn't have possibly predicted the weather that day. You promise him that you'll recover in no time, and you thank him for being here.

That cheers him up, as he promises to stay with you until you're well enough to move around, assuring you that whatever tasks you had could wait.

Shadow Milk

Despite being an inhabitant of Beast Yeast for years, you weren't familiar with the weather patterns within the Land of Spice...

Until Shadow Milk dragged you into his fellow Beast's domain at the peak of a spice storm one day.

He only wanted to annoy Burning Spice, although after you kept sneezing nonstop during their banter and being the one who annoyed him instead, the jester pouted and decided to warp back to his Spire with you.

Unfortunately, the storm made you terribly sick, with your eyes constantly burning and your throat feeling scratchy.

Shadow Milk only realizes something MIGHT be wrong with you when you refused to come out of your chambers that evening.

He invites himself inside and sees the sorry state you're in, laying in bed with spice particles in your dough and your toppings looking like they're gonna melt at any moment.

He doesn't understand why you're pouting and blaming him for dragging you out into that storm.

He even starts whining like "so you hate me now???? you want me to leave??????"

When you deny that and tell him he can stay, he's suddenly all smiles like "hehe I was gonna stay whether you wanted me to or not, doll. You're gonna have to depend on me now! But then again....you always have, and you always will~"

Sinister undertones aside, he's actually genuinely concerned for your health, taking care of you in-between his duties within the Spire.

He shapeshifts into a doctor/nurse persona, looking up cures for spice-related sicknesses and speaking in medical jargon the whole time he's with you.

He'd gather natural remedies and medicines out in the town no problem, demanding them from every vendor/storekeeper--and of course they listen.

After all, those same folks would gladly give him their left arm in exchange for a comforting lie.

You didn't mind playing the patient role, and you don't question how or where he got all those remedies, as you recover pretty quickly.

He definitely wouldn't dote on Black Sapphire or Candy Apple like this if they ever got sick, so you considered yourself very lucky.

[ang3ltine]

𓍯𓂃 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐤𝐞

c.w. nsfw mean! sevika

cursing ex! brothel freader

sypnosis: how sevika would act with a reader who acts like piltie (piltover citizen) 𝜗𝜚

God you hated being a woman.

You were currently being chased by a former client from the brothel. Despite constantly saying no to giving him service because you had just quit. He was adamant on having his way with you.

Clothes half torn and a rush of adrenaline rushing through you, you made a beeline towards a familiar bar in the distance.

The Last Drop.

You've had enough of the undercity at this point. The streets were overrun with shimmer addicts and that included the brothel.

More of your clients had been smoking shimmer , which caused them to become erratic at times. Pushing you to the brink of quitting.

It was a tough decision, leaving Babette and the brothel workers with whom you've called 'family'. But it had to be done.

"Will you leave me alone already?!" you snap back in annoyance as the pestering man was beginning to catch up with you.

"Sorry darlin' , I'm not leaving till I have what I want-" he slurred as he grabs your arm. In a frantic attempt to push him away from you, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar ravenette.

"Sevika!" , your voice coming out strained due to amount of screaming you had been doing the past 20 minutes.

Sevika, hearing a voice, she looked around in annoyance until she locked eyes with yours. Her eyes slitting when she noticed the man on the floor with a bloody nose had started chasing you again while you ran towards her.

Sighing in relief you fall into Sevika's side, too out of breath to even think at the moment. She didn't know the situation you were in but she damn well knows what the guys intentions are.

Sevika loomed over the cowering man, giving him a well deserved punch in the stomach. Practically knocking the wind out of him, at the same time blood spilled to the ground from his mouth from the impact.

She then grabbed him by the scruff of his dirty top , bringing him close to her face and sneered. "Listen. This is the last time I'll let you go free. Next time you won't be so lucky. Got it?".

The terrified man quickly scrambled on his feet as soon as Sevika threw him to the ground. Disappearing into the dark alleyway behind the lively bar.

Sevika was surprised to see you again. She hadn't been to the brothel in a while due to the heavy workload that she got from Silco.

"Thanks Sevika," you muttered under your breath as you began to shift on your feet. Clearly nervous after not seeing her for so long. It was especially embarrassing for you since you've never really seen her outside the brothel. Making this interaction all the more awkward.

"Hey," Sevikas deep voice made you look up slowly from the ground as she leans down to your level. Her cloudy grey eyes meeting with yours. "You ok? Did he hurt you anywhere?".

You questioned her sudden change in behaviour, since she usually isn't that caring in nature. She had quite the reputation of being Silco's scary right hand woman. Nonetheless, you indulged in it for now.

"No I'm fine," you breath out, your voice faltering slightly from the nerves. "Just a few scratches here and there when I tried fighting him off of me."

Sevika scanned your form, noticing how your clothes are torn and tattered and how your hair had become quite messy.

Sevika's smell enveloped you as you feel the heaviness of her cloak weigh on your shoulder. You felt quite content indulging in her presence, bringing back fleeting memories of your time at the brothel. Where she would actually come to you for advice rather than have your usual sessions.

She shrugs off her cloak and wraps it around your small form, making sure to cover your body. She then uses her normal hands to fix your hair. Tucking strands behind your ear so she could see your face better.

You were just like she remembered, absolutely beautiful.

There was an unspoken feeling between you two that you never brought up. This was because you knew Sevika is a stoic woman and didn't know if she actually liked you or not.

You were spacing out for so long that you didn't notice her move away from you. Sighing in disappointment, you turn on your heel to walk back home.

That was until you saw Sevika standing a few feet away from you. The familiar tingle in your stomach resurfaced as you gave her a gentle smile.

"Well? Do you want me to walk you home or not?"

Once again, the rally that Sevika had been trying hard to gather had failed. All they wanted was to see Jinx, but she refused to step outside her little workshop.

She was pissed that's for sure, nothing was going her way and nobody was taking her seriously. After Silco's death, Sevika tried taking over as the new leader of Zaun. But clearly that's not what the people wanted.

Slamming her apartment door shut, she made her way to the kitchen with heavy steps. Following the pleasant smell of...cake?

She almost forgot that you got home early today. Wearing your usual silk night dress and a frilly apron that managed to accentuate your waist perfectly. You weren't rich in any way despite living on the outskirts of piltover, yet you managed to look exactly like a piltie.

Sevika was grateful to have you in her life, you two had finally made your relationship official. This was after months of constant flirting and pining after each other.

You were humming to yourself from a classic song that was playing on the radio. Sensing that a pair of eyes were watching you as you prepared the icing for the cake, you turn around with an inviting smile on your face.

"Hey Sev," you ushered her over with a spatula in your hand and the other resting on your hip.

"Can you taste this for me, please?" Though Sevika looked like she didn't want to, you could see her eyes light up from your comment. Knowing that she secretly craves sweet treats.

You expected her to take the spatula, but she instead reached down to grab hold of your waist. Pulling you in with a cold yet firm grip from her mechanical hand. She then scooped some icing with her finger and brang it up towards your lips.

"Well, go on. Stick out your tongue for me, pretty girl."

You wanted to protest so bad , but they way she was looking at you? Made your knees buckle.

Legs unknowingly closing from the pet name, you obeyed. Sevika grabs your chin and places the sugary icing on your tongue. She had a shit eating grin on her face. Clearly amused from how quickly you obeyed her command.

Let's be honest, you wanted her as much as she wanted you. That's why you had prepared a surprise for her when she got home, knowing she'd be down due to her workload.

The pretty angel cake that you baked for her sat on the counter forgotten as a you two began your makeout session in the kitchen. She had kept on adding more icing on your lips and tongue, loving the delicious combination of the icing and your saliva.

She holds your hip firmly while the other hand slips behind you to take off your apron. As pretty as it looked, she wanted to fully feel you. While you entangle your fingers into her short raven hair. Sevikas' new haircut was... something. She thought you'd hate it, but in your opinion, she looks 10x hotter.

Sevika was the first to pull away as she leads you into your shared bedroom, and seats herself on her chair. That's right, you guys had enough money to buy her a desk set just in case she wanted to work at home rather than at the last drop. Which she appreciated alot.

Because now, she gets to fuck you on it.

"Come here," she commanded softly. Her voice was smooth and sultry. You eagerly climb onto her lap as Sevika's hands settle on your waist. Her fingers pressed into your flesh as she held you close.

As you settled, you felt a slight hum beneath you. Your eyes widened as you looked down at her pants. Sevika unzips the flap of her pants , revealing a hexcore powered strap on. She adjusted it so you could get a better look at it.

The soft glow flickering against her skin as she tilts her head, observing the mixed emotions you had on your face. A lazy grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

You were speechless as you look up to meet with Sevikas stormy eyes. Clearly she had planned this before she left for work in the morning and had been meaning to use her new toy on you as soon as she got home.

Anticipation was building up inside you as you caught a glimpse of the length of strap. It had thick girth and glowing bluish veins.

"Gimme a kiss," she whispers gently as she bumps her nose against yours. You complied rather quickly, closing the gap between you both as you met her lips in a sweet kiss. Hands still holding your hips , she moves you on top of her strap. Making you grind against it agonisingly slow.

Not breaking the kiss, she brings the straps of your dress down to reveal dainty lace bra. This made her stop dead in her tracks, pulling away with a string of saliva from the kiss.

You could see her eyes darken with lust and her nostrils flare slightly. It was no joke that you knew you weren't leaving the room at all 'til tomorrow morning.

"Hm, whats this?" She drawls as she thumbs over your clothed perked tit's, making your voice falter as you answer.

"Mmph -... this was supposed to be a surprise present for you after we had the cake," you manage to squeek out as she continues to fumble with your breasts.

Her hot mouth hovered over you ear and you shiver from the way she whispers into your ear, "Guess I'll have the real dessert now."

She swiftly moves her fingers behind you and unclasps your bra, letting it fall onto the floor. Moving from your ear back to your lips, she brings you into a seering hot kiss filled with lust and passion. You moan against her lips as she plays with your bare tit's.

"Lean back for me on the desk will you?," she whispers against your lips. You do as your told and lean on your elbows as she spreads your legs apart. The coldness of her metal hand made you squirm but she manages to pry your thighs open. Exposing your matching lace panties to her hungry gaze.

"Fuck baby, you're this wet already?" She chuckles , "Just from a few kisses?". You bite your lip, your face heating up from embarrassment. Your breath hitches as you feel her thumb against your clothed clit, feeling the bud twitch under her touch.

"I can't help it Sev -," you gasp as she kisses a trail from your thighs down to your hot core. Gently nudging her nose against it.

Before another word could be said, your panties were torn apart a slight tug from her mechanical finger. Realising she can't really have you properly on her desk, she picks you up in her arms bridal style and plops you down on the plush mattress.

Crawling onto the bed beside you, she then maneuvers you above her face. You peered down with heavy breaths at her as her mouth was now inches away from your throbbing cunt.

"You're gonna ride my face now, 'kay angel?"

You're not sure how long you've been riding her face, but it felt like forever.

"Nngh! Shit Sev, please...- can we stop for a sec..?"

Fucking Sevika. Just because she was a regular at the brothel, doesn't mean she gets to have her way with you.

You were beginning to get exhausted from the amount of times you came on her tongue. Of course, It didn't help with her completely ravaging you underneath like a mad woman. Making you squirm on top of her.

"Tsk, stop moving. You don't want me to tie you up and leave you high and dry, do you sweet thing?"

She mumbles against your wet core. The vibrations from her deep voice made you moan louder, surprising yourself as you quickly cover your mouth. The walls to your apartment were thin so the neighbours could definitely hear you two go at it. Not that Sevika minds, she knows that you on the other hand. Wouldn't want the embarrassment from your neighbours.

After your third orgasm , she pulls away while wiping her mouth. You didn't really have chance to breathe as she flips you onto your back again and positions her cock on the folds of your drenched pussy.

"Not done yet ," her voice deep with fervent as you could only sink into the pillows beneath your head and pray that she doesn't do anything too extreme.

The room filled with the obscene sounds moaning and skin slapping. Your body felt hot and sticky all over as Sevika continues to plunge inside you with her hexcore strap, the subtle vibrations adding to the pleasure. You tried your very best to keep quiet but it was hard with her being so rough.

You were surprised that it even fit in you considering the sheer size of the thing. But it slipped in quite easily due to the your own slick.

Sevika leans down as she folds her body over yours, pressing together your foreheads as she grunts. "Love this pussy so fucking much, you take my cock so well."

She captures your lips in hers as she deepens the kiss before pulling back slightly. Her intense gaze making you even more turned on than usual.

"You feel so good baby, 'swear I can feel you 'round me-"

Clinging onto Sevika , you felt the tension building once again as she fucks you relentlessly with a pace that leaves you breathless. You gently hold her face in your hands as look deep into her eyes as you whimper , "Pleae don't stop Sevy, you're doing so good for me."

Feeling her own high coming , she buries her face in the crook of your neck. Pressing hot kisses over the dark purple hickeys that we're scattered all over her neck.

"I won't angel, need you to come f' me ok?"

Sevika continues to pepper kisses all over your face and neck while her hands groped your tit's. Her thrusts becoming more faster and rugged , driving you both closer to the edge. You arch your back, your clit bumping against Sevikas abs with every moment. Your moans were getting louder so she leans in to swallow each one with a passionate kiss, making you borderline insane.

"There you go," she whispered, her voice a mixture of praise and satisfaction as she watched you unravel beneath her. "Taking my cock so well...just like I knew you would." Her words sent a thrill through you, and you felt yourself clench around her. Each thrust becoming faster and harder, making the bed creak beneath you.

" Vika shit...! I'm gonna cum-" you huffed breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers make deep dents and scratches on her back. With one final deep thrust, you completely become undone. Your legs shaking by her head with every thrust as Sevika slows down to help you calm down from your high.

Once you both came, she pulls out. Watching a mixture of blue shimmer and your cum drip out.

As the after math of the moment settled over you both, Sevika shifted back just enough to see the mess she made. A playful smirk slowly forming on her lips. She took in the scene beneath her, the sheets ruined and soaked. Your face was flushed and your messy hair created the illusion of a halo above your head.

"What a mess," she murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes as she caresses your cheek affectionately.

"Didn't know you had it in you." Her voice was low and playful. You were too dumbed out to speak so you just lay there, trying to regulate your breathing. Noticing how tired you were, she heads to the bathroom to turns on the taps and prepare a hot bath for you.

Picking you up gently from the bed, you weakly cling onto her while you lean in softly kiss her cheek. "Thanks Sev..."

" 's fine princess, let's get you all cleaned up. "

[cakerybakery]

“That was a good movie.” Adam nodded approvingly. “I wasn’t too sure about it being a musical, but the songs were good and I liked that they weren’t just to pad things out. They helped the story and characterization. I like the plot and the ending. It’s was good, Lucifer. Good job picking that out. Thanks, man.”

He went to get up, but one of Lucifer’s small hands grasped his pyjama bottoms and Adam looked at Lucifer in surprise.

Lucifer’s eyes were wide and confused. “I— I must have misheard you. What did you say?”

Adam paused and tried to summarize what he’d said. “Just, I liked the movie. You did a good job picking it out?”

His big eyes started to tear up, and Lucifer let Adam go.

He barely heard the small squeak of, “thank you,” before Lucifer turned his head away and pulled the hood of his ducky onesie down to cover his face.

Adam watched as Lucifer’s shoulders shook, the hand in his lap twisted around the fabric of his pyjamas and turned grey. There was a tiny shuttery sob and sharp inhale of breath.

“Lucifer?” He reached out, but Lucifer turned further away.

His voice even and measured spoke out, “I’m fine.”

He clearly wasn’t.

Taking Lucifer by the shoulders, Adam forced Lucifer to look at him.

Tears were streaming down his face and Lucifer was biting his lip to keep himself quiet. He tried to wipe away the tears, as if Adam hadn’t already seen them.

Adam wrapped his arms around Lucifer and pulled him into his lap automatically.

In that moment, Lucifer reminded Adam of Eve. Of her trying to be strong, to not add problems onto Adam’s shoulders. Her trying to hide the pain of her legs cramping at night during a pregnancy. The hand she broke wrangling a sheep before it could kick Seth to death. Finding her crying at night because sudden bad weather had killed some of their meager crops, and the kids had been going to bed still hungry for the last few days.

He held and soothed Lucifer. Telling the man it was going to be okay.

Lucifer broke down and started crying harder.

When at last Lucifer ran out of tears, he sat up and in a hiccupy, gasping voice apologized.

“Lucifer—“ Adam wasn’t fully sure what to say. What did he used to do with Eve? To help her feel better?

… Well, he couldn’t make Lucifer feel better that way. They were just friends.

Adam always tried to fix things for Eve. Rubbing her legs, he did his best to set the bone in place, got up early and hunted until his fingers threatened to freeze off.

But he didn’t know why Lucifer was crying or how to fix this.

“I’m fine.” Lucifer said, trying to smile. “Just… something in my eye.”

Adam scoffed. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lucifer stiffened in his lap, and Adam figured, he’d come this far.

“You were crying. Why? Cause of what I said about the movie?”

“N— no.” Lucifer tried to get off Adam’s lap, but Adam wasn’t going to let Lucifer teleport his ass out of the hotel and back to his dark little castle like the depressed, sad little duck—

Lucifer’s sad song from a few weeks ago when he stayed over at the hotel and they went out came back to Adam.

Sad little ducky all alone. Cold little ducky without a home. Lost little ducky sitting on a throne. Crying little ducky left to roam.

It was obvious that the ducky in the song was Lucifer. The man was painfully lonely. Kicked out of his only home and no one in the one he made for himself. When was the last time someone other than Charlie praised Lucifer?

Adam knew it was great for your kids to look up to you. But Lucifer, was constantly being reminded of his mistakes, heaven will never let him live it down or welcome a sad, lonely duckling back among the swans. Her one voice might not be enough to battle eons of others.

He couldn’t fix this any normal way. There was no one to kill or physical wound to tend to. Only a little broken heart.

Lucifer wasn’t struggling, but Adam pinned the man to the couch cushion to kept him from being able to easily leave anyway. Lucifer’s breath hitched and the already golden flush brightened. “A—Adam!”

“Listen to me.” Adam spoke firmly. “We’re friends, so take what I say seriously.”

Nodding, Lucifer whimpered.

“You did a good job picking out the movie. You do lots of good work and shit.” Adam shifted to hug Lucifer. “You don’t have to be a lonely little duckling. You don’t have to hide your feelings and crap. It’s, you know, okay to cry or whatever.”

Lucifer’s hands grabbed onto his sides and held on to him. Adam settled his weight onto Lucifer, knowing the guy could handle it. He was kind of small, but hit like a freight train. Settling down so their cheeks touched. Sharing the wetness feom Lucifer’s fresh tears.

Pressing their cheeks together, Lucifer hiccuped and spoke as though Adam weighed no more than a butterfly, trying to be light and teasing but Adam could still hear strain on his voice from crying. “Been going to Charlie’s therapy sessions?”

“Yeah.” He had been. Adam was basically just repeating shit Charlie told Angel the other day. It seemed to work for him. “Is this shit it working?”

Lucifer’s hands slid up his back and Adam felt Lucifer return the hug. “Yeah.” Lucifer murmured with a little content sigh.

“Good.” Adam would stay like this as long as Lucifer needed.

[plushyparfait]

DEATH NOTE UNIVERSITY/COLLEGE AU (because why not?)

part two :: Matt, Beyond, A

part one w/ Near, Mello, L

Random headcanons & art

Matt

1. Matt likes to randomly challenge his professors to game matches just to avoid a test or assignment if he wins. Usually it's a 50/50 chance of it working and lecturers usually humour him since his grades tend to be quite decent

2. Refuses to vape and prefers smoking actual cigarettes because he rather die from lung cancer the 'normal way' like God intended.

3. I can see Matt being an atheist, usually attending mass with Mello out of pure interest and just straight up supporting his friend.

• As a kid, he used to believe in God and was really moved by the worship music. When he went to his first concert, he realised Hatsune Miku gave him the exact same feeling and hadn't believed since (coupled with other things).

4. He’s made it a game to see how long he can stay silent in group projects before anyone notices.

• Matt doesn’t like participating, so he tests the waters to see if his classmates will handle everything without him. So far, it’s worked.

5. No one actually knows what Matt's natural hair colour actually is- not even Mello. he's constantly dyeing his hair different colours every week that people reckon he's actually just Ramona Flowers in disguise. (ps, it's red.)

6. Can't dress for shit and picks whatever. He's usually a big fan of collecting meme shirts for shits and giggles.

7. Matt started speaking in brainrot terms because he knows it annoys the fuck out of Mello but it's gotten to a point where it's become un-ironic (???) and he genuinely can't stop.

8. Mikami's made it his life's mission to uphold Matt's ban from the campus library after setting off the smoke alarms ONCE after taking a hit in the library.

• Matt didn’t expect anyone to notice since he was tucked away in a corner by a window, but when the alarm went off, he disappeared before they could pin it on him (everyone knows it was him).

9. Matt is actually a really great cook and likes to sometimes change up Near's meal regimen because he pities the little cotton ball and doesn't want him to starve or make himself sick from eating take out all the time.

10. Matt has an army of Roombas in his dorm that he’s programmed to follow him around, but they mostly just get stuck on furniture.

• He thought it’d be cool to have robot minions, but they’re more of a nuisance than a help. Still, he refuses to admit it was a bad idea.

Beyond/BB

1. BB sometimes appears out of nowhere, crouched in doorways or dark corners for the love of the game.

• He enjoys startling people with his sudden, animal-like movements, especially when they’re not expecting him to be around.

2. He has an entire series on his other/side YouTube channel where he investigates urban legends on campus—most of which he started himself.

• BB’s fans love the bizarre mix of real crimes and made-up stories, and they can never tell what’s fact or fiction because he's just a little too good at spinning tales.

3. BB has a habit of chasing people on all fours when they ask for directions, leaving them terrified and confused. Sometimes he also likes to chase little Firsties or new Professors.

• His preferred method of interaction is making people uncomfortable, and he gets a kick out of their reactions.

4. He sometimes posts the occasional odder than usual video on his main channel, keeping his video vague enough to leave people wondering if he’s the criminal he’s talking about.

• BB’s unsettling delivery and cryptic hints make viewers question whether he’s discussing a real case or something more personal. It's a bit harder to guess when he doesn't outright state names and locations etc like he does most of the time.

5. BB likes to lie and say that he's a vampire as a way to hit on people, touting it as the reason why his eyes are red.

• Since Shinigami aren't a thing here, alongside being L's younger brother, I like to think Beyond is just albino and won't admit it, preferring to spin tall tales about himself instead and dyeing his hair to support his nonsense.

6. BB is actually really good skilled at hacking and likes to leave papers he accesses on lecturer pcs with ominous comments just to mess with professors' and students’ heads.

• He’s notorious for leaving cryptic messages that leaves people more confused than when they started.

7. BB initially dyed his hair black to try and appeal to A since it'd make him look more like L.

• A and L usually had hung out (in the loosest way possible) and BB was usually present during study sessions when A came over. He'd noticed how A used to seem a bit obsessive over L, mistaking it for love and BB thought if he emulated L as much as possible, A would turn his sights on him instead but it didn't click until a bit later that it'd only turn him off. He's slowly trying to learn how to be himself.

8. He's so crazy over strawberry jam or anything related to the fruit to the point you can smell him coming before you see him since he's too sweet. His clothes are guaranteed to be covered in his version of the holy grail without fail.

9. BB's anger usually spikes during exam season— usually it's a manifestation of his anxiety and he's especially unwilling to be reduced to second best. Pity the poor things who incur his wrath at its peak. Kiyomi's hair's short for a reason. BB managed to chop it after she made the mistake of talking to him whilst he was busy.

• He does love L but also has developed a rivalry with his older brother. Constantly being pitted against him and being compared to him growing up has turned his view of their relationship into one of slight resentment and frustration, and his anxiety makes him snap at random, refusing to be reminded of his academic shortcomings if he fails anything.

10. Refuses to sleep in his dorm bed: BB sleeps on the floor, saying it makes him feel more “in tune with the earth.” People think it’s just part of his vampire act or something, but he insists it’s better for him

A/Adam

1. Adam somehow ended up as the student body president, though he’s not really sure how it happened, and now he’s stuck organizing events he doesn’t care about.

• His natural charisma and general attractiveness made him a shoe-in for leadership, but it’s more of a hassle than he expected...

2. His room is spotless, in stark contrast to L's if Mr Wammy doesn't send someone out to clean it. Adam insists it helps his mental clarity. (That boy is just a neat freak).

• He has high expectations for himself and his space, and cleanliness helps him manage stress.

3. Adam organizes casual debate nights at a local pub, where students get together and argue philosophical concepts over drinks.

• He enjoys intellectual challenges and has a natural ability to facilitate conversations.

4. Adam frequently debates professors in class, not out of disrespect but because he genuinely wants to dissect their arguments.

• He has a deep need for knowledge and constantly questions authority to understand the reasoning behind academic opinions.

5. Adam has a quiet job at the library where he mostly reads between shifts and helps organize study materials for students.

• The library is a peaceful escape, and the job allows him to focus on his own work while earning money.

6. He has a strong coffee addiction, probably worse than Light. Adam is always drinking coffee, often with a book in hand, claiming it helps him stay awake and focused on his many responsibilities.

• His drive to excel academically and socially often leaves him with little sleep, so caffeine is his lifeline. It's either that or he wheedles weed off of Linda.

7. Adam is always on top of his assignments and known for being the “responsible one” in group projects.

8. Adam’s competitive streak extends to physical activities, so he took up fencing as a way to channel his need for precision and strategy.

• Fencing fits his calculated, intellectual nature while allowing him to compete in a more structured environment.

9. He offers his time to help struggling students with work, often staying late to give them extra support.

• Adam has a natural inclination to help others and finds fulfillment in seeing his peers succeed.

10. He secretly wants to reconcile with L. Adam’s relationship with L is strained due to their competitive history, but deep down, he wants to mend it and stop viewing L as a rival.

• His maturity has grown, and while the rivalry fueled him for years, he recognizes that there’s more to life than competition

NEXT :: MISA , KIYOMI, LINDA, REM

notes: can you tell who's my favourite?

[shiftingfawnnn]

Me glaring at you for not shifting…but anyway I wanna discuss challenges about shifting! Let’s just get right into it shall we?

Shifting: Challenging What We’ve Been Taught About Effort and Desire

For most of us, life is framed by the idea that everything we want has to be earned through hard work, sacrifice, and persistence. Whether it’s a career, relationships, or personal success, we’re taught to believe that the road to getting what we want is long and filled with challenges. The idea of having things handed to us with little or no effort seems foreign, even impossible. Yet, shifting challenges that very notion—offering us a world where, in a sense, everything we desire can manifest instantly.

Shifting allows us to enter alternate realities where our deepest dreams and wishes can come true, often without the need for hard work or struggle. In a world where we’re taught that we must earn every inch of progress, the idea of being able to instantly access everything we’ve ever wanted can feel both like a blessing and a burden. The sudden transition from a life where patience and effort are required to a reality where they’re not can be jarring.

The Discomfort of Instant Gratification

Shifting, in its purest form, defies the idea that we must struggle to achieve our goals. It opens up a reality where desires manifest in an instant, where you can step into the world you’ve always dreamed of and have your wishes granted without the tedious effort we’re accustomed to. For many, this can feel surreal. It challenges the foundational beliefs we’ve built our lives on, especially the notion that you have to work hard for everything.

In a world where we’re taught that we must earn every inch of progress, the idea of being able to instantly access everything we’ve ever wanted can feel both like a blessing and a burden. It can be overwhelming to step into a reality where the rules are completely different—where everything we desire can be ours without struggle. The sudden transition from a life where patience and effort are required to a reality where they’re not can be jarring.

Shifting isn’t just a walk in the park. It’s not all magic and immediate rewards. The experience itself can be filled with feelings of unease, confusion, and vulnerability. For someone who’s grown up in a system that constantly reinforces the need for hard work, it can be difficult to navigate the idea of receiving things without having to prove your worth or struggle to attain them.

The Pressure of Perfection

Another aspect that shifting brings up is the concept of perfection. In our current reality, we know that not everything can be perfect. We’re aware of our flaws, imperfections, and the challenges we face. Shifting, however, can sometimes provide a reality where everything seems flawless: perfect relationships, endless opportunities, and personal achievements. This can be both liberating and intimidating.

When everything we want materializes so easily, it’s easy to forget that real life, in any reality, comes with its own set of challenges. And just because we shift to a reality where we seem to have it all, doesn’t mean the journey is without emotional weight. There’s still growth, still lessons to be learned, and still moments of discomfort.

It’s important to remember that even in a reality where everything comes easily, we still need to grow, learn, and understand ourselves. No reality is free from lessons, even if they aren’t immediately apparent.

Avoid Undermining Others’ Experiences

When it comes to shifting, there’s a tendency to undermine the experiences of others, especially if they’ve faced challenges in their journey. It’s easy to think, “If I were in your shoes, I’d be happy to have that problem” or “You should appreciate what you have,” but these kinds of comments, especially when said seriously, can be damaging.

Everyone’s shifting journey is personal. Some may experience the excitement and joy of a reality where their dreams have come true, while others might face difficult emotions as they adjust to this newfound freedom. Just because someone has shifted to a reality where everything they desire is within reach doesn’t mean they’re immune to feelings of overwhelm, guilt, or doubt. It’s important not to undermine their experiences simply because they’ve shifted to a place that seems perfect from the outside.

Telling someone that they shouldn’t feel upset or overwhelmed because they “have it better” than others isn’t productive. It minimizes their emotional process and invalidates their experiences. Just because someone shifted to a world of their dreams doesn’t mean that world is without its own challenges. Every reality, no matter how perfect it may seem on the surface, carries with it its own struggles and growth opportunities. And that’s okay. Shifting is a deeply personal experience that should be treated with empathy and understanding, not judgment.

Shifting and Self-Compassion

At the core of shifting is the need for self-compassion. It’s important to recognize that even in a world where everything we want is just a thought away, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed, nervous, or even unsure. The fact that shifting allows us to step into realities of our own making is powerful, but that power also comes with a responsibility to honor our feelings and experiences. Shifting isn’t about escaping reality; it’s about exploring new dimensions of possibility—some of which might challenge us to grow in unexpected ways.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by the instant gratification that shifting offers, allow yourself the space to process that discomfort. It’s normal to feel a mix of excitement and fear when faced with such a drastic shift in how you interact with the world. Recognizing these feelings without judgment is key to navigating the experience with more ease and self-acceptance.

Conclusion: Embracing the Challenge of Shifting

Shifting challenges everything we’ve been taught about effort, achievement, and success. It pushes us out of our comfort zones and forces us to confront the idea that our dreams can come true with little to no effort. This can be both liberating and nerve-wracking, especially when we’re so used to the idea that hard work is the only path to success.

However, it’s essential to remember that shifting is a personal journey, and each experience is valid. Just because someone shifted to a perfect reality doesn’t mean their emotional journey is free from complexity or struggle. We shouldn’t undermine others’ experiences or invalidate their feelings just because their reality seems ideal. Shifting is not about escaping; it’s about growth, exploration, and learning how to live fully, whether in this reality or another.

So, as you shift, embrace the challenge. Allow yourself to feel the discomfort, the uncertainty, and the excitement. It’s all part of the journey—and it’s all worth it.

[oxymoronicdumbass]

there is this fascinating phenomenon where cis people will refuse to use they/them for literally any trans person unless they're talking to trans person who doesn't use they/them. someone should really study that

[cubbihue]

“Knowing what he knows now, Timmy would never recommend it either.” What does he know?

Lots and Lots and Lots!

Consequence #2: Information Overflow.

Fairies perceives everything differently, from literal perception to mental understanding! A person have to handle the information flow during their transformation. It can be very loud, very sudden, and very bright.

Fairies stopped kidnapping adults after discovering that they easily succumb to madness at this step. Children, meanwhile, can withstand it due to their wild imaginations! Although the risks of madness is still very high.

Timmy Turner had great mental fortitude beforehand, so this didn't bother him at all. If anything, he was absolutely fascinated with his new sight. Tooth Fairy helped him get through the more confusing parts, such as re-focusing his eyes to view in the fourth dimension instead of the seventh.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[wickmitz]

I decided to start talking about Wick and Rocky's relationship because I like their dynamics too, I like seeing Wick scared of Rocky and Rocky being aggressive with him, which is unusual because Rocky is rarely aggressive with anyone, but of course Wick is an exception to rule

Also my mini opinion about their possible relationship, I think that if Rocky didn't have to fight for his place, then he and Wick could become friends, or at least tolerate each other a little, I also see some superficial similarities, their gentlemanly and romantic natures, and their common love for explosions (remembering the quarrymen chapter), but this is my assumption, I think that I don't understand the characters' personalities well, so I can be wrong in this assumption, something like that. So, what do you think about their relationship?

for starters, i cannot thank you enough for this ask! as i’ve said previously, i have many thoughts on these two, so it’s nice to finally be able to share some of them. although given the extent to which i think about them, i apologize in advance if this is sloppy and sort of everywhere … while i’ll try to structure things the best i can, i cannot promise i’ll succeed! but hopefully this is an enjoyable reply nonetheless.

one of my favorite things about rocky and wick’s relationship is absolutely how aggressive rocky is towards the aristocrat ; he is prone to glares and cruel jokes and borderline hissing whenever the man is within his line of sight, or can be brought to a wailing-fit over the mere mention of his name from miss m’s mouth. there is a childishness to it, but a very prominent threat as well in spite of rocky’s usual incompetence. so he goes out of his way to posture around wick, readily lying and adorning himself with the gangster drapes he so badly wants to wear, in the hopes that it intimidates … will even badmouth wick’s family and make fun of his name and rock related obsession to mitzi, and so on so forth! yet all of this is very reminiscent of schoolyard bullying rather than anything too severe, though we as the audience understand rather quickly that rocky would bash wick’s head in with a tire iron if he could. ( translation : if it wouldn’t earn the tears or hate of a certain beloved mitzi may ) and it’s all very intense despite the absence of actual violence! and i understand why many fans see this as unusual for rocky and believe that it’s only wick who makes him act so aggressively, but i’d argue it isn’t really wick at all that prompts such scary reactions from him … and that rocky is a deeply angry character who’s a.) been boiling quietly for a long, long time and b.) has turned wick into a punching bag of sorts for this inner world of resentment and hurt. basically, when he’s judging the well-to-do or poking fun, his eyes don’t look at wick and actually acknowledge him as sedgewick sable ; instead this is a being, something vague and metaphorical, who threatens to upseat rocky’s permanence in the lackadaisy and steal away his savior, and he’s had a hand in the violinist’s misfortune for a long time.

obviously, rocky doesn’t think wick robbed him of his family twice over and made him homeless, but he is channeling the fear and anguish of those events into his loathing for wick, if that makes sense? it’s easier that way -- to finally have an outlet for everything bleeding inside of you, to be able to bite and claw at something without feeling conflicted or having to take personal accountability for your own mistakes … which is something that i think rocky does struggle with to a degree. he is sort of a finger pointer! his pain has to be worth something, it has to be for someone else ; spending years homeless and losing his last bit of family was for freckle, and the scrambling of his literal brain was for mitzi, and that means he can’t ever be angry with them! well, except that he is, somewhat, but he buries it deep down instead of feeling it. with freckle there is a sense of strain between them -- an air of ‘you owe me’ from rocky to freckle as he uses freckle to appease miss m, and he constantly pokes fun at his cousin too. it’s lighter than his jabs at wick, but there’s a constant pestering, a reminder of how good freckle has it : how he’s got the mom and the house and the job and the girl most notably. i don’t think rocky is intending to come across as mean, and to his credit he hardly does! but it’s rather clear to me that some part of him, some hidden and deeply hurt part, is rather indignant about taking the fall for freckle all those years ago. which he can’t understand, because how could he? he made that choice, he decided to take accountability for something he didn’t do because he loves freckle and knows it’d be so easy to believe this family tragedy was roark’s fault ; the devilish child he was, all troublesome and too broken to properly fit anywhere. so there is a disconnect born here, where rocky can’t comprehend that he’d be angry at freckle, so instead these not so great feelings are placed elsewhere and silently boil over time. and with mitzi … i don’t think he’s angry at her per se, but there is a frustrated and desperate chorus of : why him and why not me, when i’m the one out here dying for you? which is certainly unpleasant. of course, rather than allowing those feelings to be more aimed at miss m, whom he feels unloved by, he ( again! ) represses these emotions and allows them to fester into his greatest fears and fantastical complexes. i think there is a lot of other miscellaneous anger he could have towards others too … perhaps some part of him is sore upon seeing ivy’s normal lifestyle, watching her go to university and knowing that’s been taken from him. or an ache felt when hearing stories from zib and the band and how they used to travel successfully, living as nomads, and rocky is all too reminded of his similar lifestyle and how he couldn’t make it work as effortlessly. people with immense trauma are more prone to irrational anger and jealousy, to viewing everything around them as unfair and believing it’s even more unjust that so many people get to live comfortably while they’ve suffered. a situation that gets more messy when you’re someone like rocky, a man who’s willingly made choices that have harmed himself and wants to continue on with his smiling, bumbling fool of an act. he does not want to be angry, does not want to see it within himself, i think, which leads to an accidental increase of it.

all of this is to reiterate that wick is a scapegoat for rocky and nothing more. it’s why he’s rather hypocritical whenever it concerns the man. for example, it was stated by tracy that he looks down upon wick for his excessive presence at the bar, yet he appears to enjoy hanging out with zib -- who drinks just as often! he makes fun of how all wick ever talks about is rocks, when he himself is prone to poetry rambles that people find irritating or boring, and etc etc. this is also just a human nature thing, to critique someone you heavily dislike and even going as far as to belittle things you love or do in your own day to day because you just hate them that bad! but given rocky’s willingness to befriend anyone, it more so reeks of a dehumanization element. wick is every obstacle in his way, every divine force that threatens to send him packing again, so he is equal parts unnerved by wick’s presence and angry about it. it is mostly a fear response we are seeing, an emotion that’s morphed into long held resentment and anger. so his actions are extremely defensive, with him trying to push wick far away and keep him and mitzi separate, like some sort of animal attempting to ward off a threat that’s come too close to their home. despite the loaded animosity there, this hate has hardly reached its peak … but it shall only grow more intense as things continue onward i’m afraid, since as it stands ( in the comic at least ) rocky is at an all time low … and is ten times more desperate. i’d honestly say wick has become so warped in his mind’s eye that he can only strive towards ‘winning’ over the other man, because that’s all he can see anymore. i think mitzi implying that wick willingly helped her out, the intense head injury, and rocky’s fragile emotional state is exactly what pushes him towards premeditated murder in look-see. i don’t know how people perceive that arc, but to me it’s very clear that rocky actively sought to see the deaths of wes and fish that night. going as far as to lament that he’d be, “very disappointed if ( he ) dreamed them,” and purposefully luring the marigold duo away to have freckle pick them off. while you could argue that this was a smart move, in a gangster sort of sense, there’s still no denying that rocky is oddly chipper about the whole thing and is now seeking death out ; whereas before his methods of vengeance were just, well, ruining people’s livelihood but ultimately leaving them alive. this isn’t to discredit the fact that rocky is going through something! he is in a very muddled and dark place, mentally and physically, but even tracy has said that the head injury hasn’t changed rocky’s personality -- it’s only brought things to the surface.

source : q&a with tracy .

which, yeah! makes sense! head trauma can cause a person to become a wreck emotionally ( think mood swings, irritability, etc ) but it doesn’t completely morph someone either. personality changes may occur, but it’s not like you’re being rewritten entirely, you know? and given tracy’s old statement, it’s clear that ‘personality changes’ aren’t a side effect he’s suffering from. something that adds to my beginning statement, which is that rocky is a deeply angry and troubled person, more so than fans give him any credit for.

however, to touch upon your mini opinion about these two, i actually wholeheartedly agree that rocky and wick could become friends if circumstances were different. they do in fact have many superficial similarities, but one of the more prominent things they deeply share is never really belonging in the groups they frequent. this is more overt with rocky’s character, yet wick faces it too in subtle ways. the well-to-do crowd, seen through the investors, find the gentleman to be lacking in about every place imaginable ; to them he is an obsessive freak who cares too deeply for meager rocks, something they constantly mock him for, while he’s also being noticeably set apart from the rest of them … he seems younger than the investors, more excitable, passionate, and a little less experienced, and doesn’t seem to care for money or reputation as much as them either. there is a constant rubbing between him and them, where what he enjoys is seen as wrong, such as his love for the lackadaisy and his choice in paramor, a grieving widow with extremely dangerous ties. we also know that wick doesn’t have many friends at all, with the only two he has being lacy and church ( church is listed as such on his character profile, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek way ), both of whom work for or with him. they are obliged to hang around, and while they care in varying ways, they are prone to judging him just as much. honestly, it’s not shocking that wick seeks refuge at his chosen speakeasy! but even there he is rather distant from everyone else. he doesn’t speak to zib ever in the comics, nor seems all too close with viktor, ivy, or horatio … it is merely mitzi he is close to, even if he knows of the other people who work there. and, once again, wick very obviously doesn’t fit in. he is not gangster material, could never be an atlas may replacement, much less someone who could get his paws dirty in such an active way. so he has his feet in two different worlds and doesn’t know how to fit into either of them, or which one he actually wants to fit into more. i think in many ways rocky could relate -- these are two very lonely people who wish to belong somewhere and be accepted by some group or another but go about it in all the wrong ways. wick, who is too hesitant to fully commit to what he wants and is worse off for it, and then rocky, who obsessively throws himself against what he wants until he breaks every bone in his body. they also have explosives to bond over, lol, and other miscellaneous things like their taste in women i suppose … but this potential bond adds to the tragedy of lackadaisy, where we see two people who on every level should get along but we’re burdened with the knowledge that it’s an impossibility anyway, because there’s no removing the circumstance of which they’re in.

though i like to believe that despite wick’s fear of rocky, he maintains a kindness towards him regardless. i think his worries about rocky are rather surface level … he doesn’t know the boy at all, really, and thus can’t make heads or tails of him, hence him believing the lie in balderdash. so when i’m feeling particularly self indulgent, i like imagining a world where they’re forced together and sort of ‘stuck’ together ; to which rocky finally breaks and exposes his wounds to wick, in every sense of the word, and wick finally gets him. the aggression, the possessiveness of mitzi … it is all fear and desperation and a profound sadness, things he’d sympathize with. if rocky was able to explain that he loathes wick because if he saves the lackadaisy then mitzi won’t need him anymore and that it’s not fair that wick gets to so easily fix things when rocky would give his soul for his home, for her, and how wick could render every sacrifice he’s already made for naught by smoothing things over with some greenbacks and he can’t lose this, he just can’t --! … which, well, wick is too kind of a man to be able to do anything except feel awful, even though it’s not his fault at all. here we have two people who could coexist! and they should, since rocky logically can’t do every speakeasy job ( band member, rumrunner, mitzi’s shadow, also the guy who gets the money for the hooch ) by himself, just like how wick can’t save the lackadaisy with only his cash and limited booze stash. it’d be a joint cooperation, a collaboration between them, both equally important in the grand scheme of crime’s every turning wheel … but rocky’s rage and fear won’t let him see that, and likely never will. still, in scenarios where everything ends up alright for the lackadaisy and the people involved in it ( which is not how canon will go, by the way ), i fancy wick and rocky getting better within their relationship. rocky will always be prickly and quick to upset around the other man sadly, but perhaps he could see wick in a softer kind of light. or at least understand vaguely enough that he isn’t out to get rocky, so to speak. and then maybe wick learns that pancakes soothe rocky’s ire and poorly makes them anytime he wishes to talk to the man, and other fun things like that! but you should have more confidence in your character analysis skills, because you were spot on ( at least in my eyes ) about them potentially getting along if things were different. it’s certainly a fun aspect to play around with, and is important to note when discussing their relationship so you can fully understand just how warped rocky’s perspective on things are. and how unstable and traumatized he is too, of course </3 sidenote, but i also hope that throughout everything i’ve said here, or anything i’ve said before on my blog, that my love for rocky and my own sympathy for him comes across well enough. while he’s deeply flawed and i have no qualms discussing said flaws in depth, i also don’t think of him as some insane freak who’s evil at his core or anything like that. honestly, i adore analyzing him so much as a character because of how far down his issues go! he’s very well written, i’ll say, as is wick and many of the other characters, but i digress.

once more, thank you for the ask! i’ll end this here because i fear if i don’t i’ll start going in circles, since their relationship is so vast and very important for rocky in a character sense. hopefully i shed some more light on it though! i love these two to bits and pieces and i wouldn’t be half as invested in lackadaisy if their dynamic wasn’t so monumental -- at least to me.

[shinidamachu]

Can you guys rec me some Inukag fanfics where Kagome is or recently was in a relationship with someone else?

[palossssssand]

Reconciliation

Old dome squadmates Trito and Kinoga get together at Trito’s place to catch up after years apart and a meeting by chance on the surface.

⚠️Warning for suggestive content below + implied chest trauma

After several weeks of chipping away at this, the comic is finally done! Very happy to have rendered a full 7 pages of oc stuff. Please give it a read!!

read the full 7 page comic on twitter! <-please do not click if you are a minor and view at your own discretion, this link contains explicit 18+ content. Thank you!

For the lore, includes stuff from splatoon Octo Expansion: Trito and Kinoga were a part of an octarian military squad living in the domes, Kinoga being their squad leader that many looked up to and admired. There were 6 of them who considered each other to be their closest friends. Upon hearing about the tests from Kamabo Co. and the allure of the Promised Land, Kinoga wished to seek it out in order to find a better life for their squadmates. A difficult decision, since it meant leaving them all behind, promising to come back and take them there.

Kinoga enters the metro trials and soon realizes that the Promised Land isn’t what they expected, their hope crumbling when they encounter one of their sanitized squadmates Agara, who followed suit to the metros soon after. Kinoga narrowly escapes, eventually making a break for the surface, carrying the shame of unwilling to return for their squadmates with them (it’s justified, of course, there might not be an easy way in, they might get caught again, Agara is gone)

Trito enters the Metro not too long after Kinoga does, wanting to catch up to them, and an accident that occurs in a test early on results in Trito’s near sanitization, giving him his scar. Terrified, and realizing what happens to his fellow octolings, Trito is unable to return to his squadmates, not wanting to break the news of their loved ones’ untimely fates. He hides away on the Metro until the events of OE happen and Agent 8 dismantles Kamabo, opening an opportunity to escape to the surface. Unwilling to face the possibilities of going back, Trito takes his chance to leave, starting a new life and feeling that it’s for the best if he doesn’t acknowledge it, though he missed his friends dearly.

Years later, Trito and Kinoga run into each other on the streets of Splatsville by chance, and the implications of them both being on the surface and alive hit them, having to carry the burden of leaving their loved ones behind and finding out the truth, knowing the other felt exactly the same, not knowing the fate of their squadmates and not wanting to think about the possibility of them being gone. They have a tearful reunion about it, and set up a meet later, to sit down and really talk, and get into a brief argument when the topic of returning to the domes comes up. Trito’s in disbelief that Kinoga never went back down to check on the rest of their squad, wanting them to have been a better person than him, who was too cowardly to do so. Eventually they do reconcile, and end up at Trito’s place to hook up, where the above comic takes place :]

[connecting-the-stars]

Missed Opportunities:

While I did love a lot of the aspects of the finale, I walked away feeling a bit empty? Maybe confused is the right word.

I’m still not fully settled with the finally, maybe it’s the whiplash of seeing Omega all grown up, or Crosshair claiming that clone force 99 died with tech after so many episodes of his death never being acknowledged by him, or maybe the shock that CX-2’s identity really turned out be unimportant or needing to take a day and rewatch the episode again. But I do feel like either the pacing is what put me off or there were arcs we were following that end up being incomplete.

I’ve seen a few people bring up the missed opportunity that the writers had to really tear at our hearts with the lack of CX-2’s identity being revealed.

I just feel like it could’ve been a full circle if crosshair had been the one to change his mind and be determined to bring his family back together, to use the hope omega has shown him and given him, that he won’t leave his family. The show demonstrates his PTSD and his hesitancy to return to tantiss, and throughout the season it had Crosshair revealing more and more about the information he had about the tests and operations. We know that he was tortured and went through the painful process of reprograming that had failed on him, but it almost feels like the progression was leading to a bigger reveal, like he had this massive secret that he refused to share under any circumstance. That paired with the absence of any acknowledgment of tech’s death by Crosshair besides yelling that clone force 99 died with tech, when season 1 really pushed with the fault being on the empire, that crosshair’s loyalty to that authority being the reason the team was never the same again. He knows that he made his own bed and had to lie in it, the deep seated isolation looming over him throughout season 2 really hammered in how much of a mistake it was to refuse rejoining his brothers. The team was never complete without their brother, and you feel the weight when Tech pushes for Crosshair’s rescue. “He is our brother. We do not leave our own behind.”

Crosshair’s growth this season has been wonderful to see, and I feel like rampart singling him out to be “just like him” which he corrects just furthers this idea that he’s changed a lot, that his perspective has changed. Having Crosshair going through this journey of guilt and self forgiveness is so important, and I want that to be echoed to others. From “I deserve to be in here” to “none of us belong here.” Repeating omegas words. Wouldn’t it be so impactful to have Crosshair come face to face with his brother who had faith in him all along when he had been turned by the inhibitor chip and for Crosshair to be the one to hold out hope. For Crosshair being placed in Hunter’s position from season 1 being helpless to save his brother from the empire, forced to leave him behind, but this time they are not abandoning anyone, not again. From giving up ever rejoining his family, literally fighting to send a message that they should go into hiding vs. trying his best to bring his family back together. From tech always having faith, hope that his brother would join them once more, going on that horrid mission in the hope that they might gain info to rescue cross vs. it’s crosshair that has faith that tech will come back to them, standing in the face of death in order to bring his brother home. To not give up on each other, even when the empire has done everything to tear them apart.

The idea that tech’s sacrifice could be represented in his fractured mind, would hold weight to his fall. The clone that’s mutation is to have an accelerated brain functions and highly enhanced technology skills is now failing to remember keys details or who he even used to be. He has to rebuild himself, rediscovering who he was and who he wants to become. He’s not doing it alone, his family and Phee provide support every step of the way, helping him reconnect to memories that had been burned away. If cross still loses his hand, then both of them would be in a similar spot where they now have to become more than what they were originally programmed and created to be. Finding a new purpose, creating your own future.

I’m gonna give it a day, try to rewatch the finale without crying this time. The moment where Omega adjusts Tech’s goggles hit me like a plane crash, like damn.

(I really did love the epilogue showing hunter’s continued care and support for Omega, and her being so passionate about helping others. My heart really did want 4 seasons of this show, I just wanted more time with these characters. My heart was so proud of Omega, just like hunter was.)

[linogram]

everyday europeans find new ways to piss me off

[doctahchang]

on one hand, i do not like how the end of the equinox barely addressed the falling out that janeway and chakotay experienced throughout those episodes. like there is no way they could (and should) have let it go that easily.

on the other...

[sysig]

Bad time of it, all things considered (Patreon)

[hylianane]

i really dont like using my blog to vent or complain cause idk thats not what social media is about to me its just a space to be silly about the things i like. that being said. im just gonna do a mini vent in the tags abt smth that isnt even half as serious as im making it sound