#and i don't know if it's them doing their best giving us something

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ A FLAME BLOOMS, LIKE A FEVER

02z WHEN YOURE SICK

pairings: enha (02z) × reader genre: fluff wc: 0.55k warnings: use of petnames notes: I accidentally bought kids panadol when I was sick and it was so fire I think it was called calpol but it was so good yo | LIBRARY

JAY — acts of service!!

Don't expect to move a finger, you're hungry? He'll cook. You need something from another room? He'll get it. You need to go downstairs? He'll carry you.

“Jay you can't do everything for me, honey.” You'd croak out, coughing. And Jay would already be standing with a glass of warm honey water for you to soothe the ache in your throat.

He takes your words as a challenge. He absolutely can do everything for you. Just you wait and see.

You're pulling your jumper over your arms, feeling too hot, and Jay runs, practically sprints to your side.

“Arms up love,” you don't have the energy to argue with him, and if you did, you're sure you'd lose anyways, letting him pull the material over your head in one swift motion.

You can expect that jumper to be freshly washed and neatly folded in your closet the next time you get up. Maybe even with a couple of sprays of his cologne to make it smell just like him.

JAKE — bribes you with kisses

Is a mother. He knows you're going to be sick even before you are. It's like an instinct. He'll warn you, telling you not to go out with wet hair or to take a jacket when you go out. You don't listen, of course, and Jake nags you endlessly.

Still, he takes care of you meticulously, spoon feeding you home cooked meals he's spent hours making.

“Jakey, I'm really not hungry.” You'd say, but he was having absolutely none of it.

“I know, baby, but you have to eat.” he'd coo before the idea comes to him, “One bite and i'l give you a kiss, hmm?”

Ever greedy for kisses, you'd agree, not realising Jake would probably end up the same as you a week later. He doesn't mind, though, just wanting you to get better.

Despite your hair being absolutely soaked with sweat, Jake still traces his fingertips across your head, massaging it. Only feeling relieved when you finally fall asleep.

SUNGHOON — medicines galore

At first, he tries to fix everything with wet paper towels and some panadol, but when that doesn't work, Sunghoon goes above and beyond.

“I got some headache medicines from the pharmacy, a few flavours of cough drops in case you don't like them all, I got these cute tissues, some herbal medicine and apparently chewing on ginger helps too.” He'd only have been gone for half an hour, not wanting to leave you alone for too long, and he'd come back with enough medicine to last you both a lifetime.

One you take the medicine, he watches you like a hawk, monitoring your condition, checking for any side effects. And if the medicine doesn't seem effective within a few hours, you practically have to beg Sunghoon not to buy more.

“Hoon, it's not going to work that quickly.” You have to tug him from walking away with all your strength.

“But you're sick.” He looks at you, frowning, with pouted lips and puppy eyes. You know just how much he hates seeing you in pain, with those low energy levels, and the missing spark in your eyes. It makes your heart swell.

“Hmm, they say the best medicine is—”

Sunghoon leaps out of your hold, ecstatic, “What, what is it?”

“Cuddles.”

taglist : @nanawrlds @flaminghotyourmom @mystverse @chenlezip @lotties-readings @jenobubbles

[cherry-coffees]

Marriage of Convenience!Caitlyn headcanons

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who does not want to get married - much less to someone she doesn’t know or have feelings for. so when Cassandra introduces you to her for the first time, all she knows is that you’re from some noble house in Noxus and she resents you. It’s not your fault, she knows, but it’s so much easier to have someone to blame for her unhappiness.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who watches Cassandra talk to your mother in silent rage, who watches you smile politely and just go along with this. this just makes her resent you even more because why are you so okay with it?

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who (very reluctantly) attends the ball in celebration of your engagement. no one know it’s arranged - everyone in Piltover thinks that a Piltovian and Noxian fell in love and oh how wonderful it is that these star-crossed lovers will bring peace and an alliance between the two regions! Caitlyn wants to scream the truth at them all until her lungs burn. but her mother would kill her, so she just stands there with a fake smile, blue gaze icy.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who eventually ducks out of the main ballroom and onto a secluded balcony, seeking some relief from the constant attention of the crowd, only to find that you’re already there. frustration runs through her veins, a scowl automatically gracing her sharp features because why can’t she just have a single moment alone? but her expression morphs into one of surprise when she takes in your posture: leaning against the balcony railing in your gown, your head low and your body almost crumpled — defeated.

Caitlyn can’t help but hesitate, straightening out her Commander uniform she had insisted upon wearing. She doesn’t know whether to intrude or leave you be. But, she supposes, you will be married soon. 

So she breaks the silence, stepping forward to lean on the railing beside you. “Why aren’t you in the ballroom?”

“Why aren’t you?” You counter, not bothering to meet her eyes. You stare ahead, looking out at all of Piltover all lit up at night. 

Caitlyn can’t stop the scoff that escapes her. “Too much attention for something I don’t want.”

You bob your head once, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Makes two of us.”

“Are you kidding?” Caitlyn’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing and turning her body to fully face you. “You seem to be quite content going along with everything your parents want.”

“Yeah, well,” you exhale, your breath coming out as a puff in the cold night air. Caitlyn notices this, gaze darting to the gooseflesh that prickles on your bare arms. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it. It’s better to go along and make the best of it. If I’m going to be married to you, I don’t want to hate each other.”

Caitlyn blinks, slightly taken aback. “I-“ she pauses, considering your words. “I don’t hate you.”

“Seems like it.”

“I don't,” she insists, and you finally turn your head so your eyes lock with hers. “Look-“ Caitlyn holds your gaze, a twinge of respect stirring within her. “If my parents had to marry me off to someone, I’m glad it’s you. I know we just met, but you’re very respectful, and you seem kind. I like that.” She hesitates again, eyes flicking down over your body for a split-second. “And you’re undeniably pretty.”

“Uh- thank you." You blink, wide-eyed at the unexpected compliment, a pink hue dusting your cheeks. You can't deny that being called pretty in that posh accent of hers makes you a little flustered. But you push past it, shaking your head to clear your mind and continuing. "You’re right: we don’t know each other. But since we’re getting married, I’d like to, if you’ll allow it.”

And for the first time since Cassandra broke the news to her about this marriage, Caitlyn lets herself give you a half-smile. “Yeah,” she nods, a hint of interest in her eyes. “I’d like that.”

I have loose plans to write a full fic of this so!!! Stay tuned and lmk if you have any ideas/things you'd like to see with this <333

Reminder that my asks are open!

[adieutristana]

Hi! Can you make arcane characters x reader who is afraid of touch?

of course! thank you for the request <3

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

summary; arcane women with a girlfriend who is afraid of touch.

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, (vague) mentions of past trauma, fluff, mentions of poor mental health

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is pretty understanding when it comes to fear of being touched. she is as well, for the most part. when it comes to a relationship, i think jinx would be incredibly touchy, but if you tell her that you're afraid and/or uncomfortable she'll give you the space that you need. yes, jinx enjoys physical touch, but she doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

✧.* jinx will probably resort to words to show her love instead, though she's not the best with them. saying sweet things like "i missed ya, trinket! i've got something to show ya, yeah?" or "oh gods, you just look so pretty, it's impossible!"

✧.* jinx is the textbook definition of clingy. look up the word in a dictionary, and her face will be underneath. so she won't physically hang off your arm if you're afraid of touch, but she'll still follow closely behind you like some kind of lost puppy. it's endearing, honestly. jinx just needs to be close to you somehow at all times.

✧.* the closeness reassures her. she's used to everyone she lets in, everyone she cares about dying. so to share that proximity with you and have the reassurance that you're here, alive, with her, it means a lot more than jinx thinks you'll ever understand.

✧.* like i said, jinx is the same way to an extent. touch-starved, but also won't let anyone close enough to touch her. so when she met you, let you in and began to trust you, part of jinx did expect that touch. you're in a relationship, after all. but once you explain to her, she understands wholeheartedly!

✧.* also constantly showing her love through gifts and grandiose gestures. makeshift firework shows that are a fire waiting to happen? yep! music boxes that play your favorite songs (although slightly out of tune)? also yes! tagging walls in the undercity with your initials together in hearts! you bet! jinx will go above and beyond, she doesn't want to scare you off by doing something she knows you're afraid of

✧.* on the off chance you do let her touch you she'll be making sure you're alright, but also very very happy for those little moments.

✧.* pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while whispering, "you okay, sweetness?"

✧.* jinx doesn't really question you on these things, she just lets it be. if you say you're afraid of touch, then so be it. not a problem for her.

✧.* "come with me!" she'd say, using her hand to wave you over. "what's this about, jinx?" you'd ask, quirking an eyebrow. jinx would be giggling all the way, shaking her head and nearly skipping towards her destination. "don't worry about it, toots! you'll love it, i promise!"

✧.* knowing jinx, she's probably dragging you to the last drop after hours so she can show you how she decorated it just for you (don't question how she managed to pull that off), or she's taking you to her hideout to show you some of the gifts she made you. she's just so excitable around you, she can't help it

vi;

✧.* vi is a little confused at first i think, but that's just because of her need for communication and specifics. like yes, you're afraid of touch, but what kind of touch?

✧.* she has a loooot of questions. she's not trying to pry at all, genuinely just trying to understand you and where you're coming from better. is it alright if she hugs you every now and then? can she hold your hand? what don't you want her to do? do you need her to ask to touch you, or not touch you at all?

✧.* literally just doing everything in her power to not scare you off. vi has a good thing going with you, something real. the last thing that she wants is to fuck it up because she couldn't keep her hands off of you

✧.* vi is sooo so good with her words, though. a master at sweet talking you to show her adoration.

✧.* "you look so beautiful right now, y'know that? i mean- you always do, but gods, right now..." or something along the lines of, "look at you, all focused and stuff. you always amaze me, cupcake."

✧.* one of her defaults is that it's a trauma response, mostly because she knows that's most of where her sister's fear of touch comes from. she'll try to approach the subject delicately, letting you know that if you need to talk about anything she's here and she only wants to help. it can come off as slightly patronizing without her meaning to, so it really all depends on how you take it.

✧.* if it is a response, then fine, vi wants to help and support you the best she can. if not, then she backs off still, settling for just doing you favors and vocalizing her love for you

✧.* she will not let you do a damn thing if you're in a domestic situation. vi is so loving and attentive. she will handle the cooking, cleaning, laundry, all that... you just rest!!

✧.* honest to gods, vi is just such a sweetheart. literally whatever makes you happiest and most comfortable is done without question by her.

✧.* on the off-chance that your girlfriend does scare you or accidentally crosses a line, she'll be profusely apologizing. asking if there's anything she can do to make it up to you, this is the absolute last thing she wants.. if you need space, you've got it. need words of reassurance? consider it done. literally anything.

✧.* generally, i'd think vi is touchy but not enough that this would be a problem. she's versatile, she can show her love in a lot of ways!

✧.* "mm.. i'll do your laundry for you tonight. give you some time off." "vi, that's not necessary-" "shh. it's done. see? i'm already on my way, getting your laundry..."

mel;

✧.* honestly a bit confused at first. mel has grown up around war, tragedy, and despair, but she hasn't met many people who are just downright afraid of being touched- even in the midst of chaos.

✧.* she probably immediately goes to thinking it's because of something that's happened, though, only because of the war and tragedy that she's seen. she hasn't seen fear of touch in particular, but mel has seen a lot of things affect a lot of people in different ways. if it is, then she wants to support you, of course. if not, she still will do her best to show her appreciation for you in other ways.

✧.* mel is easily one of the most devoted and gentle lovers ever, and she has so many tricks up her sleeve when it comes to affection. we've already established that she'd be spoiling you constantly, but she'd also be using her words so well. i also think mel might be the type to write you poetry, honestly. is she the best writer? probably not. but damn, she pours her heart into it.

✧.* "hey, darling. i wrote something else for you, see?" she'd say while holding up another slip of paper, just to add to the collection of your endless others. "written just for my dearest girl."

✧.* mel is just so attentive. she'll probably be a bit protective, especially in public. even if it's just a stranger innocently tapping you on the shoulder to ask for directions to the station, she doesn't want you to get scared.

✧.* "aht- i'll handle that. directions, yeah? you'll go straight here, then take a left, and another left right past the council building." all before someone can touch you.

✧.* if you do allow any kind of touch later on, mel will tread lightly. it's not that she thinks you can't handle yourself or you're fragile, but she just wouldn't be able to live with herself if she scared you off somehow or hurt you.

✧.* light caresses to your cheeks, gentle hugs, guiding you by the small of your back, her head on your shoulder or lap. always so careful, but so sweet and loving

✧.* of course mel will have a lot of questions initially, but it's only because of her need for connection and understanding. she doesn't mean to push or prod, she just wants to understand her lover better and know exactly what is and isn't okay. what will make you most comfortable being with her, that's all that she wants

✧.* hands-down the best at comforting you if you do happen to get scared by touch, though it's usually not at her own hands.

✧.* "hey. hey, tell me what happened. i'm right here, you're alright." she'd say, her voice low and soothing. "nothing's gonna hurt you, nothing's gonna touch you. at least not while i'm here. just let me make things better."

sevika;

✧.* i don't think you'd really need to have a conversation with sevika about it. she's intuitive. the first time you flinched from her touch, trying to wrap an arm around your waist, she knew something was up and she backed off. she wouldn't ask, wouldn't push for more information than you're comfortable giving her. something in her tells her that it's a sensitive topic, and asking might make things worse.

✧.* if you want to talk to her about it, the floor is open. you know that she'll listen, she always does. but until then, she won't pry.

✧.* if you do decide to have that conversation with sevika, she'll take in and cling onto every last word. we've established time and time again how loyal and devoted she is, how she'll do anything just to make sure you're content. she'd listen attentively, taking note of every little thing that you say scares you, of every shift in tone of your voice.

✧.* "i... thank you for telling me this." she'd whisper, her eyes locked with yours. "you know you don't have to hide a thing from me, yeah? but i won't ask for more than you wanna tell me, either. just don't hold out on me, dove."

✧.* besides, sevika has a lot of other ways she can show her love to you. that connection can be achieved through other means! late night talks, bringing you to play games of blackjack and poker with her, etc.

✧.* that's actually one of her favorite ways to have fun with you: gambling! as odd as it may sound, it's one of her favorite pastimes, and getting you involved in her world is a big deal for sevika. someone who famously doesn't let anyone in. so for her to play games alongside you when she's typically merciless, giving you tips for your own hand, it's a big deal.

✧.* if you do allow sevika to touch you, it'll be fleeting and soft. almost as if she's afraid. it's only because she wants to ensure your comfort and sanctuary, really.

✧.* light kisses to your jawline as she whispers things like, "look at you, so beautiful," or "my sweet girl, you look tired. let's turn in, hm? i can hold you. or not. your call, dove..."

✧.* like she doesn't need to be told twice that you're afraid. sevika is very good with respect, very good with communication and laying off. she loves you, she doesn't want to make you afraid or uncomfortable at all if she can help it.

✧.* super protective in public, though. if anyone tries to touch you at all, even if just to push past you in a crowded place, she's immediately pushing them away from you and telling them off.

✧.* "hey. you lay off her, ya hear? thought we learned as kids to keep our hands to ourselves."

caitlyn;

✧.* i think caitlyn would also catch on pretty quickly. she'd ask just to be sure, but she's a smart woman. she can take hints, put pieces together, figure things out. the first time you inched away from her touch was coincidence, the second time was anything but.

✧.* naturally, cait brought it up with you when she got a moment that was just you and her. she tries to approach the subject with caution and care, as she doesn't want to scare you off or seem like she's aiming to force information out of you. but she loves you, and she worries.

✧.* "you can tell me things, love. i promise, i won't get angry. whatever it is, you can tell me."

✧.* she's understanding once you do tell her! she's been raised knowing devastation and war, though her upbringing is privileged. she still knows about trauma, about fear, about phobias, all that kind of thing. even if it's just a thing of general anxiety and you not wanting to let people in that way. she won't take it personally, she knows that this is just something innate within some people

✧.* caitlyn will likely resort to her words and acts of service instead. she's constantly doing things for you, trying to make your life easier in any way that she can. if there's some housework you need done, consider it taken care of. if you're feeling hungry, she's cooking your favorite without a second thought.

✧.* she might accidentally touch you without thinking- like a brush against your back or a grasp of your hand, but she immediately pulls back and apologizes the second she realizes what she's doing. she gets the hang of it rather quickly, but she's used to showing physical affection to her family and friends.

✧.* she still loves sharing a bed with you at night, but cait makes it abundantly clear that she doesn't expect you to cuddle up to her, and she won't hold you unless you ask her to. she's perfectly happy having you next to her, just your presence soothes her to sleep.

✧.* "shh... just sleep, dear. i'll be right here. you always look so peaceful when you're at rest, it's beautiful."

✧.* cait is honestly just so sweet and understanding, she'll do anything and everything in her power to make sure that you're at ease!

[catsshadow]

Yes, "the Church" doesn't like the competition. They want the desperate coming to them and THEM ALONE--certainly not the government! It's one of their best revenue sources, after all. It's really psychological manipulation: help someone when they are in a bad situation and they feel especially obligated <OBLIGATED> to do something in return. And "the Church" is adept at making this "something in return" last a lifetime. People in an emotional state (happy, sad or afraid) are easier to manipulate, which is why they INSIST marriages, baptismals, funerals, etc., need to be held at "the Church" and presided over by "Church Officials". Debt collectors know this trick, too, and they are absolute A-HOLES with it--they are TRAINED to find what buttons to press to get you upset, etc. You get the idea.

Just think of all the sales people, TV/radio/internet commercials or mailers you've encountered offering something for "free". Hell, they'll do anything to get that "free" thing into your hands. Why? Because you then feel obligated to buy something from them. Or better yet, GIVE something to them: "Jesus died for YOUR SINS--can't you just let him into your heart? Is that too much to ask?" And of course, you don't want to be rude, right? They use this psychological trick to guilt you into doing what they want, and that starts you down the path they have very carefully designed for you to follow. This was designed and has been crafted and adapted for CNTURIES. They are sure to follow up and keep coming at you...all in the name of what's RIGHT and GOOD, of course. How could you deny them this little thing they ask of you? Stand firm and just say "no" right from the beginning. Or "NO!" if necessary--they know EXACTLY what they're doing, so DO NOT FEEL BAD! It was very nice of Jesus to "die for me" and all, but I never asked Jesus to do anything, so tough darts.

--CS

I am finding out that a lot of things I thought were common knowledge about Christian Fundamentalism are not in fact common knowledge.

Like with the aid freeze, people were like why would they do this? And I was like cause they want churches to be the only option for aid.

And people were shocked. And I was also shocked that this wasn't like...more well known. I grew up with people who were anti-aid because they felt that belonged to the church and made people behave more worldly if they could get it elsewhere. It was so well known it was a debate topic in my Philosophy of Religion course in high school.

I'm just...I'm concerned at how little some groups seem to know about Christian Fundamentalism. I wish I could help translate more.

[miange1]

IAN GALLAGHER , MIKEY MILKOVICH

this is short, male reader, implied bottom reader, peer pressure, readers 'innocent' in shameless terms, passing out, vomit mentions(i think), polyamory(im not fond of it, sorry if this isn't the absolute best), mickey is a switch and i will forever believe that, ians a stone top nothing changes that, i haven't watched shameless in a while

"fuck, quit stumblin' or else we can't carry you." mickeys voice was muffled in your ears, your eyes darting around the room trying to find someplace that didn't seem so blurry in your vision. "he would be able to walk straight enough if you weren't manhandling him."

your fingers gripped both of their shoulders, trying not to slip and fall on your face. "well things would go smoother if you let me carry him!" ian shushed him, a whine mumbling past your lips.

"throw up would be all over you mick," mickey scoffed, "you think i give a fuck? look at me, and tell me if you think there's any fucks i give." he didn't care if you threw up on him, worse substances have been all over him he could handle some puke.

"what i mean is i don't want him to throw up in general!—" ian stopped talking hearing you cough, the two trying to get you to the kitchen to get you some damn water.

"sorry.." you said, your body slouching down on the counter while your legs dangled off of it. "you're sorry?" ian came over to you, hands grabbing yours whilst mickey got some water and pills for when you were sober.

"what are you sorry for, hm?" it took a few hums, and choked words before you had gotten it out. "i..didn't mean to take it, it just.." they knew what happened. you weren't the type to drink, do drugs, or anything of the sort.

you just wanted to have fun, but in the end you got pressured into drinking more and more. way too much for a first timer on top of that.

"shh, don't apologize for that okay? we know." mickey handed you a glass with cold water, setting the pills beside you.

"hey, take these in the morning okay? you're gonna have one hell of a headache and it won't feel good." you nodded at his words, taking small sips of the water.

at least you knew if you drank too much that you would throw up, so you set it down. "im tired." they got you down, heading upstairs to get you to bed.

"here..alright, get him undressed and i'll get him some new clothes."

mickey lied you down getting your shirt off , the cold air making your body shiver. "mngh..mick? wactha doin'..?" mickey smiled a bit, the way you were so confused was just funny to him, though the situation wasn't something to smile about.

"ugh..you wanna have sex or something..?" mickey snorted, bursting out laughing shaking his head. "no— im tryna get you in some different clothes, not fuck you."

"his clothes off?" ian had come back, a different shirt in his hands and some long shorts that hopefully fit you all the way.

"yeah, give 'em." it took way longer to put the clothes on whether than it did to take the original ones off but they got you in bed without too much trouble.

"we'll be downstairs okay?" ian gave you a kiss on your forehead hand in your hair. "if you need anything just call us."

you nodded your head, saying goodnight to them as they turned off the light and shut the door.

[tarotbyjam24]

messages from your future spouse

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Masterlist \pick a cards

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ? Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Pile 1

Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful .

Some people don't change no matter how hard you try.

But we can not simply sit and stare at our wonds forever .

You spread joy because you're joy that's what I admire most about you .

First love teaches us what love isn't .

It's better to feel the hurt of honesty then to live in a false comfort of lie .

The secret of life is to be obsessed with yourself and be kind to everyone around you.

Some days are just heavy .

Everything you lost will be replaced with something better.

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 2

You haven't met the best version of yourself yet don't give up

when you choose yourself everything around you will choose you too

remember you can start again over and over as often as you need

people don't cry because they're weak it's because they've been strong for too long

the little things ? little moments ? they aren't little

perhaps we should learn to love ourselves so loudly , it silences our insecurities

I love seeing you happy

it happened so that you could grow

you will forever be my always

do it for your future self

Pile 3

You can't go back and change the beginning but you can start where you're and change the ending

expect nothing appreciate everything

you can also comit injustice by doing nothing

be patient. Sometimes you've to go through the worst to get best

how many time can the same thing break your heart ? As long as you love it

find joy in simple things life will always be fulfilling

In the end, I realized the hurt never turned to hate. No matter how much my emotions led me to feel so. I never stopped loving people. I stopped trusting them.

The art of observing and not absorbing

Not liking me is fine, but making up lies to destroy my character is weird.

Keep it private until you know it's permanent

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 4

First love teaches us what love isn't .

Discipline is the strongest form of self love .

She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind

people talk about me behind my back and i just sit here like damn i got myself a fan club

It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations .

Forgive yourself for the mask you wore when you didn't feel safe enough to be yourself

YOU DON'T NEED EVERYONE TO love you, JUST A FEW GOOD PEOPLE

may every hour in your soul be golden, may it be filled with endless magic .

Vibes to carry through out the week

You're not sensitive. You're not overreacting. If it hurts you, it hurts you. Don't let anyone invalidate your feelings. Ever

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻

Loads of love , jam\gem

Exchanges : open , collabs for pacs : open

[archangeldyke-all]

hii idk if you’re still writing the cowboy sevika fics but i’m actually obsessed with them you have no idea!! anyway i was thinking a fluffy little fic about sevika being depressed after shimmers death and reader, vi, and jinx do their best to cheer her up/support her!! do whatever you want i’ll literally take anything i just love your characters so much🙏🙏

YEEHAWWWW i miss cowboy sevika

men and minors dni

it's been a month since you and your girls buried shimmer by your garden. not a night has passed where sevika hasn't cried herself to sleep in your arms. it's breaking your heart.

watching shimmer die was hard enough. you were never much of a horse person before meeting sevika's trusty mare, but shimmer converted you. before sevika settled down with you; one of your greatest comforts when she was out wandering the desert was that she had shimmer there with her. the horse was so in tune with sevika, and they'd been riding together for so long, that they practically moved as one. you worried less about sevika losing her mind when she had shimmer to listen to her rambling. you worried less about her losing her life when she had shimmer to run her back home to you if she ever got too beat up.

and as sweet as sevika is when she claims you're her best friend-- you know that title really belongs to shimmer.

"we should do somethin' for sev." vi mumbles one night. jinx is fast asleep between the pair of you, after insisting she wasn't tired for an hour straight.

"like what?" you ask.

vi shrugs. "cait and her dad go hunting sometimes."

you giggle. "you're crazy if you think we're giving jinx a gun."

vi laughs. "no, no, we wouldn't hunt. we could just, y'know, go camping or something. there are some cold springs thirty miles west of here."

"and how would we get there without a horse?"

"we could borrow one of grayson's." vi suggests.

you smile and turn to face her. "you've been planning this?" you ask. she smiles guiltily.

"sevika's just been so sad. i wanna cheer her up."

your heart bursts with love and you dart forward, squeezing jinx between your body and vi's as you attempt to hug her. vi giggles. jinx wakes up with an annoyed groan.

so, a week later, you, your wife, and your girls set out with a horse drawn wagon and one of grayson's newest additions: a young colt named 'teddy.' grayson was happy to lend you the horse, muttering something about him being a pain in the ass to train. "if there's anyone i know who can get through to a stubborn horse like teddy, it's sevika." she sighed.

the ride out to the springs is rocky and bumpy, sevika getting used to riding a horse that isn't shimmer-- teddy being an ass just for the hell of it. at least the girls find it fun. their giggles and squeals are the soundtrack for your entire ride to the springs. even with all the curses she's spewing at teddy, sevika looks more relaxed than she has in weeks back on top of a horse.

"what're we even gonna do once we get there?" jinx asks. you snort and ruffle her bangs.

"well, i'm going swimming. you losers can do whatever you want." you say. the girls giggle.

"do you think there are cliffs we can jump off of?" vi asks. you shrug.

"i'm sure we can find some. we've got a whole river to explore."

"none of you are doing any exploring until we set up camp and get a fire going." sevika huffs from on top of teddy's back.

"boo! boring." jinx whines.

'setting up camp' ends up being sevika building the tent and jinx feeding teddy while you and vi attempt to make a fire the old fashioned way.

"how did the cavemen ever do this?" vi huffs as she rubs two sticks together. you snort.

"i'm sure they had tools. blubber to make it catch better, or something."

vi rolls her eyes. "i don't understand why she won't just give us her lighter."

you laugh and look up at sevika as she wipes her sweaty brow. "she doesn't trust us not to burn down the whole riverbed."

"or she's just bossy." vi mutters. you cackle.

"i think you're right, kid."

you don't make it into the river on your first night, but you don't mind much. when the sun sets, the heat of summer fades and the cool dark forces you all to squish together on a log in front of the fire while sevika cooks up beans and weenies on the fire.

"is that a planet or a star?" vi asks. jinx looks up and hums.

"i think it's venus."

"yeah?"

"i think so. sev?" jinx asks.

sevika glances up at the sky, smiling proudly and ruffling jinx's bangs. "you nailed it, kiddo."

"what constellations are out tonight, sev?" jinx asks, tucking herself under your wife's arm. sevika hums, leaning back to study the sky.

you don't bother to look at the sky. pretty as the stars are, they're nothing compared to the sight of your three girls, cuddled together and illuminated in the firelight.

"follow my finger. you see those three stars close together?" sevika whispers, her voice melding with the crackle of the fire and the roar of the river.

"yeah." vi whispers. jinx nods against sevika's shoulder.

sevika drags her finger across the sky. "see how they lead into a cross? there?"

"is that the northern cross?" jinx asks. sevika nods, her smile growing.

"you know it. anyways, the cross is in the center of cygnus the swan. backbone of the milky way." sevika's eyes flick down and catch yours, and she smiles shyly. you grin. there are more stars in her eyes than in the whole night sky.

you spend the next day in the river with the girls, laughing and splashing and squealing when fish nibble your ankles. vi and sevika ride upriver to try to find cliffs to jump off of, and you teach jinx how to doggy paddle. when the girls return, they're soaking wet and cackling.

that evening, with the girls fast asleep in the tent, you and sevika smoke a joint and go skinny dipping.

"did you have fun with vi?" you ask, your arms and legs wrapped around your wife. sevika giggles against you.

"i shouldn't tell you." she says. you giggle.

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"means she almost jumped onto some rocks several fucking times. gave me a heart attack."

you groan, shaking your head. "no, you shouldn't've told me." you agree. sevika giggles.

"but, we both lived, didn't we?" she asks. you laugh.

"y'know we're gonna have to adopt teddy from grayson?" you ask. sevika snorts.

"what makes you say that?"

"jinx is obsessed with him. braided and un-braided his mane like six times today. calls him 'teddy bear.' plus..." you trail off.

sevika darts forward to kiss you. you hum against her lips. "plus?" she asks, her lips brushing yours.

"plus, you need a new horse. you look good in the saddle."

sevika hums and kisses you again. "you take such good care of me. how am i supposed to keep up my bandit appearance when i got a wife that talks me into adoptin' horses and takes me out on vacation?"

you laugh. "you haven't been a bandit in half a decade. and the vacation was violet's idea. she was worried about you."

sevika sighs and leans forward to rest her forehead against your shoulder. "you still take good care of me." she says. you kiss her scalp.

"well... y'know. you're my dingus the duck."

"your what?!" sevika asks with a cackle. you groan and shrug.

"i dunno, those stars you were talking about last night!" you whine.

"cygnus the swan!?" she asks. you nod.

"that's the one."

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she asks though her laughs. you snort.

"y'know. you're the backbone of my galaxy, or whatever."

sevika's teasing expression melts, stars sparkling in her eyes. "that's awfully corny, darling." she whispers, her voice shaky with emotion. you smile.

"what the-- what are you two doing?!" vi squawks from the riverbank. you and sevika giggle guiltily, caught by your kids canoodling in the cold springs.

"go back to the tent!" you shout.

"awe, gross, are you guys naked!?" jinx whines.

sevika snorts. "we all bathed together three hours ago!"

"yeah, but you guys weren't all up on each other-- vi, let's go before we overhear something nasty." jinx groans, tugging on her sister's arm.

violet laughs and stumbles behind jinx. "don't drown!" she calls.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[yogsandchaos]

Been a bit and definitely nothing has happened so I'm gonna...

7. Mental health should be taken seriously, but be wary of when it's used to distract from real issues. The fact someone did a bad thing should not be forgotten even if the results have hurt them. Instead facts like "no one deserves an internet witch hunt and death threats" along with "even still you did a really bad thing" can and should both be taken equally. At the same time though, give people at least some grace when it's brought up and don't immediately assume it's a distraction. It very likely feels important to the person bringing it up and like it's worth mentioning especially when in those headspaces. TLDR Don't be guilted, don't let guilting go unchecked, but don't inherently assume guilting was intentional and not just a poor decision made earnestly

8. People are inherently biased towards their own favor and view of events. If someone genuinely believes themselves to not have done something wrong, insisting on that is not gaslighting or anything, it's simply a different perception. Someone can be wrong without doing it on purpose, in fact this can be rather common. Don't take defensiveness and reframing as a sign of guilt, that's just how humans work.

9. Everyone involved has more information then you, random person on tumblr, it's good to get both sides, but do not presume you know everything, no one is ever 100% completely right about everything on a developing situation. You do not know these people's, you do not know the full extent of whats going on, they are not your friends. I understand the defensiveness, but you gotta remember this isn't your beef. Form your own opinion yes, but be aware that facts can change and that the truth is usually a bit more complicated then you might hope.

10. Cancel Culture is much more complex then just "100% good" or "100% bad" it's a hard to control tool that can have severe consequences, but like all tools it depends on the use and applications. Be careful on how you use it, and be understanding when people speak out about how dangerous and potentially life threatening it can be. Don't feed flames that don't need to be fed and especially don't misuse it as an excuse to be vicious towards whoever is on the weekly chopping block.

11. People can be wrong and support someone they shouldn't, this isn't a reason to immediately condemn them and cut them away as helpless, but a reason to learn more about why and their own opinions. It's an invitation for discussion, not an immediately burned bridge. Nuance good! Especially don't expect people to immediately cut off people they were close friends with for long periods of time, even if it turns out they were wrong about them, people wanna defend their friends and family, especially with how violent cancel culture can get.

12. The best thing you can do about an unfolding situation like this is to let the actual people involved settle things and do the arguing and fighting and stuff, and to simply stay somewhat informed and double checking that the information is correct. Like, make memes and jokes, but don't take it upon yourself to try and get actually involved, you'll just make things messier and more confusing with how fast disinformation can spread. Screenshots can be faked, deepfaking is a lot easier these days, I'm not saying to not believe everything ever, just, remember to further check things.

13. SENDING DEATH THREATS IS ILLEGAL, DO NOT SEND THREATS, YOU'RE GOING TO GET IN TROUBLE IF YOU SEND ANYONE DEATH THREATS OR JUST THREATS, ESPECIALLY IF THEY ALREADY HAVE LAWYERS INVOLVED IM CHOOSING TO BELIEVE MOST PEOPLE WOULD NOT DO THIS, BUT FOR THAT LIKE 2% THINKING ABOUT HOW FUNNY IT WOULD BE, YOU CAN GET IN A LOT OF TROUBLE DO N O T .

14. Don't call people narcissists or psycho, or anything, I know that's asking a lot, but at least try not to be ableist about this. The word you want is not narcissist, it's "manipulator." It's scummy to immediately assume anyone who does anything bad has to have "bad person disorder" something that does not, and never has existed.

15. Remember people who hurt others or do bad things are very rarely giant supervillains pulling the strings with dozens of scripts and plans to manipulate and twist everything. They're just a person, a person likely with some sense of entitlement. That's it. You don't gotta be a smart Machiavellian master villain to hurt someone or do something scummy. You just have to feel like you're owed something, you have been wronged somehow, or that you are an exception to something. Anyone can do that. It's basically never a big grand chessmaster plan, it's just a person who likely genuinely does not believe they did do anything wrong, or that whatever wrong they did wasn't actually what people are taking it as.

16. Continue to be nice and patient! Just, be nice, I cannot stress enough how much being nice and patient can make things easier to deal with when it comes to discourse. Like, do it for your own sanity at least, don't get in fights, or yell at people, or stay up to 3 am putting up a red string board. Be nice and patient.

17. Almost forgot, but just because one person is worse doesn't mean you shouldn't call out when the other is going too far. You're allowed to go "this person is bad, but i find this reaction or statement about it to be uneasy or uncomfortable" that's allowed, nuance nuance nuance. Someone can do something wrong about or to someone who has done harm, and the fact that they have done harm does not inherently mean you have to turn a blind eye to it.

The hermit community is pretty old so I probably don’t have to say this, but I know a lot of people in the fandom are young; but here’s a few tips from an old school yog fan

1. just because someone has left or did a bad thing, doesn’t mean you’re a bad person for enjoying the content, along with still wanting to watch that old content they did or were a part of

2. Just because someone has left or did a bad thing does not mean you cannot continue to make fan content. While it’s understandable if you don’t make more or remove art you have made, you are also not bad if you don’t. YouTube is all about collaboration and transformation. Fanart? Fanfic? Cosplay? That’s all transformative, you don’t have to stop making a new thing from the old thing. It’s fully in your right to do so, but it’s not required.

3. Do not harass people about whether they do or don’t make art or delete art, it’s transformative works and personal choice, the most you should do is ask for it to be tagged so it can be filtered.

4. Don’t harass the creators either, it’s clearly been handled and handled well. If this was a case of it being ignored for years by the company or group (COUGH SJIN YOGSCAST COUGH) then it would be more complicated, but it’s a solved issue. Don’t harass iskall or stress either

5. You are allowed to hold off on making a value judgment until you have more information. We don’t have a lot of information and things around kids media tend to be a lot more stricter then adults for what’s appropriate. so it could be a lot of different things of highly varying morality ranging from assault to a bad case of public intoxication that didn’t fit the child friendly brand of the Hermits. We don’t know. Especially about Stress her resignation and how it relates is a near total mystery right now.

6. Be kind to each other, and remember the people you watch are people, and people do dumb or fucked shit sometimes, it sucks, but these are just people, hopefully it’s something to be grown from by Iskall and not something life ruining, but let this remind everyone to not put people on pedestals as unproblematic. Every hermit has probably held an opinion or been a part of something you’d find distasteful, that’s just what it means to be human. It’s up to you to decide where your personal line is and your comfort levels on that stuff, and no one can make that choice for you.

[nanahachi3]

"I AM GETTING RIPPED TONIGHT" | Skz

Summary: Nothing but hard thoughts with stray kids members.

Warning: This contains short adult scenarios. Minors should not read. This is part 1, and I will release part 2 soon. It's not my best work because I was busy these past months and couldn't write it properly.

Chan

Woah this was big.

Your eyes were still widened as his words echoed through your mind.

It was 20 minutes left before your show, and you were nervous. Heck, it was your first time performing at Coachella, and Chris was here backstage with you, trying to calm you down, and this way was weird. How did he do that?

You already know the answer: he was naked in front of you.

Chris veiny cock hardened in front of your eyes.

You gulped the nervousness down to your throat. You were inexperienced, and you never gave any guy a blow Job, and it was also your first time seeing a cock.

“Pretty, don't worry. I know you will be amazing. It's fine. I know you can do it.”

You needed to touch his tip, Making him chuckle. He looked so cute right now, his blush face and his curls flowing down to his forehead.

Your eyes were hooded, the nervousness was slowing down as he gave you his shy smile, and you touched his cock from tip to whole length, giving it soft strokes. Every touch was tender and made him feel something in his heart.

“Baby use that mouth of yours”

You understood his words and wrapped your lips around his tip, and slowly and slowly, you took the whole cock inside your mouth. It almost choked you because it was your first time giving someone a Head.

And it was not just someone.

It was your boyfriend, Chris.

He groaned and let out a satisfied moan.

“Yes angel”

His fingers ran through your hair, stroking them as you nodded. Your mouth was full of his cock, and you looked so cute like that!

You moved your tongue slowly sending a shiver through his spine. His cock was wet by your saliva as your tongue licked his length and then you moved to suck down his cock.

“So good baby”

“I can't believe that you are this talented”

“Oof angel I love you and you look So pretty with my cock inside Your mouth”

He gave you praises and his groans were softened up because he didn't want the audience to hear you.

Your mouth was making him see the stars. He could feel him grow sensitive shit. He was this close. He didn't want to end up in your mouth. It was embarrassing since he had never come before so fast but now he was climaxing so fast inside your mouth.

He was feeling nervous more than you know because your pace was going fast now he could hear the filthy sound you were making from your tongue while sucking him off.

He tried to move you away because it was embarrassing to finish off Inside your mouth or at your face.

“Move baby I am close fuck!!”

You were stubborn and you gave him a last suction before you could move away, his cum shooting at your face covering your lips and nose with his white liquid.

“Baby I am so sorry”

Hrs grabbed the towel to wipe the cum from your face but you grabbed His hand to stop him.

“What?”

“I want it and I want this inside me”

You kissed his cock and laid him down on the couch before positioning yourself to insert his cock inside you.

“Angel Is needy hmm?” He chuckled and you nodded with your lusty eyes.

…………..

Felix

The relationship between you and Felix was wrong.

It was a stepbrother and step-sister trope between you.

Your parents recently started dating, and you guys were introduced to each other, but the problem was that you were attracted to your soon-to-be step brother Since he was also angelic.

His face was like an angel. It felt like he was carved by God himself. The way his freckles adored his face, the stars, and the glow around his eyes. He was a beauty, and not only his beauty, he was a sweetheart by nature.

It was 2:45 am, and you could not sleep. You continued to roll around your bed again and again. Felix was sleeping by your side, and you could not control how beautiful he looked.

“Angel, I am Sorry I am doing this”, he cursed as he removed all of your clothes. You could not process what was happening as the clothes you were wearing were shoved down somewhere on the floor.

His blonde hair fell onto your shoulders as He was finally inside you.

“I will move slowly, hmm?” Felix asked, and you hugged him, pulling him closer to you.

You bit your lips as the light illuminated you. The 2 AM sounds were relaxing. Many thoughts rushed through your mind as the pressure began building inside your body. The still purple lights fell onto your eyes. Felix pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Shall I move princess?” He asked as he slowly grabbed your thighs, leaving Some marks on them, and slowly and slowly, the pace started moving. You could feel the friction between your hips and his cock.

It was a slow and gentle trickle of sweat, glistening on the skin like small droplets of drain, his dark brown eyes sparkled as you could feel a different sense of love around you and him.

“Felix ah”, you cried and hugged him tighter. Your pussy was clenching him well.

It felt like You were made for him. He groaned, his voice crying against your ears. He left the small hickeys on your neck and chest area.

“Angel, You are so good” You smiled at his words.

He was hitting the spots where you wanted him to. The light was dim as you Continued to bounce on his cock. The groans and the messy moans spread around the room, the white bedsheets filled with your cums and sweat as you continued to fuck each other in different positions.

From doggy to cowgirl, he has stretched you well. Your cunt was still taking his Cock so well, so deep.

“Ahh, last time, I promise, sweetie. I know you can cum for me, hmm?”

“Ngh ngh’ you blinked. Your eyes were too tired to move now that you were hooded. As he pushed his cock once more against your cunt From behind and his left hand playing with your nipples and the other hand holding your hair.

“I am cumming, lix”, you cried out as you felt yourself, realising The wet hot white liquid once again on The sheets.

Felix pulled out this time as he was also close. He kissed your lips. Your hands kissed his Cock and jerked it till he finally spilled his cum on you.

“I love you angel this Pussy was made for me” he leaned down a bit and placed soft kisses on your clit.

You blushed and laid down on the pillow as he played with your clit leaving kisses or pinching it.

You were relaxed.

And Felix was elated.

Seungmin

Your eyes were rolled up. The lingerie that you wore was resting on the floor all stripped down from your body when you were busy walking or doing a runaway for your boyfriend while he was sitting on the couch.

Seungmin was hard after he saw the new Victoria's Secret lingerie that you brought specially for him but the poor lingerie was now stripped down somewhere.

Seungmin clenched your hair from behind ‘take it up you are a good pup for me aren't you?” your head was softly laid down on the pillow he was hitting your sweet spot from behind the grip on your ass leaving his nails marks on your skin.

“So sweet this pussy takes me so well huh”

“Who could have that you are such a messy whore” the drool on your lips leaked onto the pillow. He was being harsh on you whenever you disobeyed seungmin. He would punish you this way.

“Fuck fuck it's too much baby” you whimpered the laid back eyes your ass jiggling in the smooth motion. He slapped your clit as he kissed your shoulder leaving Some bites on it.

“Too much min” you once again cried out it was too much for you can't handle the pleasure or the punishment he was giving to you.

He slapped your ass a red mark on it “this ass was made to satisfy me”

“Tell me whore this cunt is mine!?” HE gripped your hair harshly and you nodded weakly.

It was the close moment where your legs gave up and shook as you cum the white liquid dripping from your hole and he smiled licking the cum from your pussy.

“This pussy is mine”

He slapped it before going to eating your pussy once again.

[scoobydoodean]

If you had to pick five moments that you think best summarize Dean as a character… What would they be? Like, either each individually makes you go “yup THAT’S the character” or as a whole they male up the most of his facets?

Oooh that’s difficult. Hmm. HMMM.

1.02 "I figure our family's so screwed to hell... maybe we can help some others"

"Saving people, hunting things, the family business" etc etc yeah. But ALSO we often ignore that this whole conversation is centered around not letting desperation for revenge consume you, and Dean's care for others including strangers—wanting to keep them from experiencing the traumas that he has.

DEAN Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM How do you do it? How does Dad do it? DEAN looks over at HALEY and BEN. DEAN Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.

4.22 "Stepford Bitch in Paradise"

This one is a good representation of Dean's refusal to back down, caring about the whole world, and arguing fiercely to protect it, as well as his ability to stir up the care and love in others.

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.

12.22 "I hate you and I love you"

Just a very good summary of Dean's childhood experiences and how they have effected him, and how he (yet again) stirs up the care and love in others (and pulls people from mind control over and over via the power of love <3)

I hate you. You lied to me. I was a kid. You promised you'd keep me safe. And then you make a deal with Azazel. Yeah, it saved Dad's life, but I'll tell you something else that happened. Because on November 2, 1983, old Yellow Eyes came waltzing in to Sammy's room, because of your deal. You left us. Alone. 'Cause Dad was just a shell. His perfect wife? Gone. Our perfect Mom, the perfect family... was gone. And I... I had to be... more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe. And that wasn't fair. And I couldn't do it. And you wanna know what that was like? They killed the girl that he loved. He got possessed by Lucifer. They tortured him in Hell. And he lost his soul. His soul. All because of you. All of it was because of you. I hate you. I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand...'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once. I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You, me, Sam. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you – I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please.

5.22 "Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone"

Bobby and Cas try to convince Dean that they've lost and there's no point in trying to reach Sam.

BOBBY: You just don't give up. DEAN: It's Sam! CASTIEL: If you couldn't reach him here, you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield. DEAN: Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right? CASTIEL: I just want you to understand – the only thing that you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother. DEAN: Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone.

Dean pulls up at Stull right in front of two archangels who could blow him to smithereens, blasting music from his car and making an obnoxious scene. THEN Cas and Bobby show up right behind him (just as Michael says "you are not a part of the story!") Dean's refusal to give up defies causality, and his attitude is infectious.

While Dean is being beaten to death, he's saying,

DEAN: Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you.

Dean's refusal to abandon his brother fills Lucifer with jealous rage making his control slip, while simultaneously bringing dozens of memories of traveling with Dean to Sam's mind helping him surface and take control.

3.10 "I didn't deserve what he put on me"

I have trouble picking a 5th because there's so many different directions I could go (Dean and Cas in the Crypt, Dean reusing to abandon Cas in Purgatory, Dean in the cemetery in 2.20 crying over John's grave, Dean's "I'm not mad I'm worried" from "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets" or the similar scene in "The Future", Dean convincing Chuck and Amara to make up, Dean refusing to give into Chuck's writing and kill Jack, Dean telling Chuck "We will never give you the ending you want", etc).

I think I have to go with 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream of Me" because it summarizes a lot of Dean's intrusive thoughts and his overactive sense of responsibility and guilt, identifies the origin of those feelings, connects all of it to his depression and suicidality, and then circles back to the fact that he knows deep down that he doesn't deserve to feel this way, that he's not a tool for others to use, that he is his own person, and that he deserves to live.

DREAM DEAN I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it? DEAN Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up. DREAM DEAN I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog. DEAN That -That's not true. DREAM DEAN No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell. DEAN Just shut up. DREAM DEAN I mean, think about it ... all he ever did is train you, boss you around. But Sam .... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. DEAN I mean it. I'm getting angry. DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die. – who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

[darkfictionjude]

OH BY GODS THAT ENDING FUCK ME I WAS THINKING ABOUT COMING HERE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW BROKE UP MY HEART WAS AFTER LORCAN DISMISSED CROWNY AND ASK YOU WHAT IS THE KINDEST ROMANCE ROUTE BECAUSE I CAN'T TAKE LORCANS ANGST ANYMORE (not without some fluffy in between) BUT THAT ENDING GOD DAMMIT JUDE WHAT A WAY TO END WITH A B A N G!

Perfection, just 🤌

... but without screaming this time, could you please kindly rank the kindest to roughest (?) romance routes - separating kind/antagonize? I really need a break from Lorcan abandoning us at the dance floor 😭 (when I saw the "me and you" line I knew Crowny was COOKED, BWAH)

Also, I don't think I realized how fucked up everyone was until now. Yeah I know, sHoCkInG, but when Irme admitted he knew about James stunt and did nothing? Not nice man, not nice. No one coming after them to see if they were okay after? Can't blame Lorcan, he hates our guts, but Nia is/was Crowny's BFF... should mean something right? And everyone calling debts on each other in the library? Also fantastic, I love fights (I don't, but do). I don't know how friendship points make that interactions different (do they?) cause every opportunity I have I go to that sweet little red heart in Lorcan's scenes (and he still hates me 😭😂)

Hmmmm so let me see. Kindest is Nia friendly, then Lorcan friendly, then Imre friendly. Then it’s Nia antagonistic, Lorcan and Imre

What’s interesting about you saying you didn’t realize it is that another reader kind of said the same thing too on the itchio comment section. It was surprising to me to see the surprise hahah cause I thought it was obvious this was coming since every time these four are together they fight. The first time they don’t is in this episode when they’re costume shopping. I feel like they didn’t go after crowny because they don’t know how to comfort them all of them are kind of bad at it 😭 they probably thought it was best to leave crowny alone as a way to not make it worse? Not the best method ofc

I’ll give you some hope. Lorcan doesn’t really hate crowny any more. I don’t think he’s realized it yet but his actions (when you don’t mention his parents, orla) show he doesn’t dislike crowny’s presence

So yeah their way of showing the have crowny’s back is either killing James and/or helping crowny not go to prison cause they willing got involved in something that could fuck up their lives too. I think it counts a lot that none of them hesitated to get rid of the evidence there was no “crowny killed him it’s not my business” or “we should call the police” they were ride or die. If that doesn’t show loyalty I don’t know what does

[bookie-bookdust]

Helpful (but Aggressive) Guide to the new Hogwarts Legacy PC Mod Update✨

I have been seeing NOTHING BUT COMPLAINING about this damn update and no one actually trying to help each other. So I'm going to do my damn best here to give you a little intro into this new update. Because instead of leaning into the standard toxic consumerism bullshit of fandom, why don't we actually try to be nice to each other?? And the fucking modders who put all this time and effort into making this for us?!?!!?!?!? Special thanks to @anomalyaly because we were up last night trying to figure this out LOL. These screenshots are hers and mine!

PART ONE: Why is my game crashing?

You need to delete your old Nexus ~mod folder from the game files. Throw it in the trash, cut and past it somewhere in your documents, idc. Just get it out of there. The pathway to find it is:

2. Steam senses your bad attitude and don't like it idk. I'm not IT. Turn it off and back on again.

NOTE: Once you start up the game and get it working, you can bring back compatible mods from Nexus. You just need to create a new folder to put them in. It can't be the original one. If your game crashes after that, then you have an incompatible mod in there. You'll have to go down the list until you narrow down which one it is - typically will be a face mod, hair mod, jewelry, or a mod that already exists in the new mod store thing. Yeet it.

PART TWO: I'm not going to teach you how to add the new in-game mods and start the game. I'm not your mom. It's pretty intuitive honestly.

PART THREE: Where the fuck are the clothing mods I just added????

An excellent question, my new charge. You need to go to GladRags to get them. You're going to have to long rest at least three days for them to show up in his store. For me, it took five times lol. This is kind of annoying, but it needs to be immersive to the game I guess so oh well. I don't think we'll die from it.

See all those red exclamation points? That was my fault. I loaded a wizard clothing mod into a witch save. So if you see that, you loaded something you shouldn't have.

PART FOUR: HOW DO I CHANGE MY UGLY ASS HAIR?

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. You're going to go to that hairstyle lady in Hogsmeade I'm too lazy to look up the name of. That bitch charges you for the new hairstyles but you can download unlimited money cheats so whatever.

Don't mind my face lol. I was having a BP makeup glitch LOL

PART THIRTY-SEVEN: How do I change my makeup?

This part sucks. RIGHT NOW as of 1/31/2025, you have to be in the main character design screen at the beginning of the damn game. BUT BUT BUT - if you mod back in the BP character editor, you can do it anywhere. My hope is a new mod will replace this so the game works more smoothly.

Those white spaces? They're the new in-game mods for hair and makeup. Well, most of them. I think some are just random blank spaces lol.

Part Six: Where are my unlocked spells and unlimited plants and shit?

Two reasons they're not showing up:

If you just added this mod and you load your game in the middle of the mission, you need to finish the mission first.

You probably have something incompatible (a nexus mod) that isn't playing nice. Yeet it.

After getting everything squared away, I look fucking great. You are not doomed to a potato face🥔. I FUCKING PROMISE YOU ON SOLOMON'S LIFE.

Truly guys, once you work out the kinks in this update, it's really. fucking. nice.

Before I reinstalled the nexus mods, the game was running so smoothly and the graphics were beautiful. I loaded in 20 mods all at once, and the game handled them just fine. After reloading the nexus mods it was a bit clunky, but of course it would be.

I know change is scary. Also for those who spent time creating/commissioning mods that are no longer compatible, they have the biggest right to be freaking out. BUT BUT BUT we all fucking know the old mods AND SO MANY MORE will be back soon. People are working their asses off in the background converting things right now.

I want to put some things into perspective for you:

We have not had a real update in two years (no, photo mode doesn't count). This is literally the best kind of update we could ever ask for. We are not dependent on the devs for updates with this. In the launch event they were speaking as if you can create your own quests; there are audio mods....think about it guys. Endless protentional. (The only things that aren't going to make it are if you have weird ass like engorgio penis mods because there's no way they're approving those for public use hahahaha)

The devs reached out to people in the community to ask for feedback and to collaborate. THEY CARE ABOUT THE FANDOM. Consider what that may mean for the sequel??? We might not be forced to stomach Hogwarts Legacy 2: Dumbledore's Jorts. They're listening (but they're not going to listen if you're fucking rude and stupid).

You guys shitting on this update very vocally here, on twitter, and on tiktok are forgetting that people in your community helped create it and can SEE YOU. STOP IT. Whine in private!!!!!! Also because I knowww I have to specify because someone is going to take everything personally, I don't mean posts making funny jokes about the updates and just being like ahhhh wtf is going on I'm so lost and whatnot. Like please guys, read the room. I'm referring to nasty comments.

So yes, I'm here with a positive review of the update, and an insanely aggressive reminder to calm the fuck down and go touch some grass. The old mods will be back soon. This update makes using them so much easier. Also, THE POOR CONSOLE PLAYERS DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING YET SOOOOOOOO

I WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY QUESTIONS OR CRITICISM SO STFU. THANKS FOR READING THIS LONG ASS POST IF YOU'RE STILL HERE. OKAAAY BYEEeeEE.

[goldsbitch]

Twelve Grapes

-chapter 7, part 1 - A bit of a bad boy

Yeah, sure. Let’s do the talking on track. Only - the track is public roads of Monaco and the talking is a couple fight.

word count: don't even ask, it's getting out of hand warning: kissing, m/m, Jos Verstappen A+ parenting introduced, few awful homophobic comments, couple fight

"Max, if you don't want to have the whole of Monaco gossiping about us, you're going to have to stop touching me every time the realtor turns his head around," Charles stifles as he reluctantly pushes Max's arms away from his waist. Both of them know Charles does not really mind Max's hands roaming around his body.

The Dutchman laughs. "The guy is too focused on explaining why this specific faucet is the best in the world, I don't think he remembers we're here," Max argues and steals one kiss and pinches Charles' hip. But, after that he caves in and puts his arms away from Charles and does few steps back, to create a distance that would somewhat be acceptable for "a buddy who's helping him pick out a new apartment to move in". Charles walks toward the realtor guy to listen to a lecture on kitchen cabinets, something that Max knows he secretly enjoys. Max still does not understand why all of a sudden Charles needs his own apartment. Yes, technically, he's still living with his mother. However, realistically, he spends any free moment in Max's place. The phrase "a Ferrari driver can't be living with his mother" is not a strong argument in his opinion. He lets them debate about the marble tile materials and takes one more walk around the place. It's a particularly nice apartment, the best one so far. Main feature being the massive terrace overlooking the city and sea. Provides enough of privacy for them to let go and promises a notion of domestic freedom. It's been just a few months since they first hooked up. Seems like ages ago, everything went to quickly and naturally after that. Max especially appreciated the fact there was no bullshit needed with Charles. They both understood the predicament. Keep things private from others. Don't let their relationship affect racing and vice versa. It was surprisingly hard to watch Charles and his first potential win slip through his fingers. Max won't ever admit this to him, but it's going to be way harder to balance this than he ever expected. And the season has just started. He will uphold their unspoken agreement. Charles has entered his life in a measure like no one else before. Max prays that he is mature enough to not fuck it up for both of them.

He joins Charles back in the kitchen and waits for the damn realtor walk away to the bedroom again, before caging Charles against the kitchen counter, back to back. He bends him over and hold him by his hair.

"Max," the man, who's ass he's pressing into, warns. But even though he can't see Charles' face, he can hear the hidden amusement in his tone. Max chuckles and rolls his hips into him. It would only take a moment for the realtor to turn and spot them in this position.

"What?" he whispers into Charles' ear while giving it a quick lick. In return, he starts to melt under his touch immediately and almost gives in to whatever Max would suggest. As always. "I need to make sure the kitchen is up to our standards. We don't exactly use it for cooking," he comments, images of him fucking Charles hard against the counter at his home flooding Max's brain. He knows Charles enough to know that it takes everything he has to wiggle out of the embrace and walk away, like a responsible adult would. But it's all clear when he flashes him a flirty smile on the way over to the realtor. Just like Max, he is nothing but a horny post-teenager, who would happily get bent right then and there. His hot, desirable and inescapable Charles. With dimples created specifically to make Max lose himself in them.

//

The start of his dream career in Ferrari is about as hard as expected. Completely new environment to blend into, battling the strange combination of part of the team believing Charles is there to help them get to the top, generational talent and all that, and the other side of the garage, that is still bitter about Kimi Raikonnen getting replaced by a rookie. Then there is Sebastian Vettel. Someone he used to look up to. It took him the first two races to abandon that sentiment completely. Seb radiated a sort of tired, I'm-so-over-it energy that poisoned anyone who was willing to listen. And the fact Charles looked so happy to be part of the old, somewhat stagnant team, was not exactly helping their teammate energy.

The Ferrari engagement is ten times more demanding than his workload in Sauber was. Charles' life lately has been reduced to his work and Max exclusively. Time with friends replaced by PR duties and trying to make space for some downtime with one of his biggest rivals. And here's the wildest thought he keeps for himself. He'd give anything to have Max as a teammate. It might be not exactly the healthiest of wishes, but after getting stuck in another strategy meeting, when he's on the receiving end of Sebastian's self-introduced Ted talk about how the current newcomers into F1 don't follow the proper ethics of racing (something Charles finds incredibly ironic, coming from this man), he's getting more and more annoyed with this approach. They are not there to drive around all politely and harmoniously. He never thought that the biggest inspiration he'd take from this legend of a driver is to make sure he never falls into the trap of this attitude.

He can feel himself spacing out during the drivers parade. Sebastian is standing next to him, nagging something to his ears about a hot reporter standing nearby, challenging Charles to come out of his shell for once. He's not listening to him. His eyes keep sliding over to a certain driver.

Charles can’t stop himself from watching Max, even when it’s dangerous to look. Which seems to be the case all the fucking time. There’s something magnetic about the way Max carries himself, completely unaware of how he commands attention. Not just from Charles, but from everyone. It’s in the sharpness of his jawline, the way the light catches in his sun-streaked hair, and the way his eyes, icy and calculating on track, turn softer when they’re alone. Max Verstappen in public is a machine, a flawless embodiment of focus and precision. Max in private? That’s the man Charles loses sleep over. Endlessly proud to know he's the only one who can see him like that. They never discussed what they were - and Charles is grateful for that. Because there is no need. It took them one night spent together to know it is inevitable.

Max, dressed in his Red Bull kit, stands at the other end of the drivers’ parade truck, casually leaning against the railing. His laughter cuts through the general hum of the crowd, drawing Charles’ attention like a moth to a flame.

Charles knows he shouldn’t stare, not with Sebastian Vettel by his side, who is murmuring something that’s no doubt vaguely inappropriate. But Charles has stopped caring. He can’t help it. There’s a warmth in Max’s laughter that Charles rarely sees, a kind of unguarded joy that makes him wish they could exist in a world where nothing had to be hidden. Where Charles could walk across the paddock, curl his hand around Max’s wrist, and pull him into a kiss for everyone to see.

His pulse quickens at the thought.

He knows the paddock is connected through and through with affairs and relationships. But, he can't help but fall into the pattern of thinking the two of them are just so much more than what anyone here around them have. They don't need the layer of secrecy to keep the blood flowing. It's a burden, not a blessing. Max glances over at him, catching him mid-stare. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of them. Charles feels like he’s standing still while the truck rolls on, the crowd cheers, and the cameras flash. Max’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile. It’s nothing much, just a subtle curve at the edge of his mouth, but it’s enough to make Charles’ knees weak. It’s infuriating how easily Max gets under his skin, how even in a sea of people, Max can find him, target him, and ruin him with a single glance.

He recalls last night - another impulsive, reckless visit after terribly long day. Max had pinned him to the wall of his hotel room, breathless and relentless, as if daring Charles to pull away. He hadn’t. He never could. They made a deal to avoid visiting each other's hotel rooms as much as possible, keep their affair locked in Monaco, where they could be somewhat safe. But how does one do that, when they get to spend so much time together?

Standing on the track, anthem blaring, Charles feels the weight of it all. The impossibility of their situation. The inevitability of it. Max is the one thing Charles has, and nobody can ever know. The one thing making him able to unwind and with that, he's giving him all the power in the world to destroy him.

When the anthem ends and the drivers disperse, Charles doesn’t let himself glance Max’s way again. Not until he’s strapped into the car, visor down, engines roaring around him. Only then does he let his mind wander, let himself imagine what it would feel like to have Max beside him - not as a rival, but as a partner.

And in that fleeting moment, before the lights go out, Charles feels it in his chest. The ache of loving someone who has set his entire world on fire. Charles knows this is real. There is no need for the "what are we" talk. It's been so obvious, even for his anxious soul, that what they have is real.

At that time, he has no idea that last night was the last one he'd spend moaning Max's name in good faith and not cursing him until the morning hours.

//

It's his first Monaco home race as a Ferrari driver. The team has got his schedule planned out to minutes every day. Still, he manages to sneak in one dinner at mamma's apartment, just like the old days. Charles sits at the table, in the same chair he’s occupied since he was a boy, but tonight it feels different. Heavy. The kind of heavy that presses on your chest, makes you shift in your seat, and has your fingers nervously spinning a fork against the edge of the plate.

His mother bustles around, humming softly, the clatter of pots and pans filling the room. She’s always been able to fill the space, even when it’s quiet. Normally, Charles finds comfort in that. Tonight, though, it just makes the knot in his stomach tighten.

She’s been on him for weeks now - little comments slipped into phone calls, questions disguised as casual curiosity but cutting deeper than she probably realizes.

“Where do you spend your nights, Charles?”

It’s why he got his own apartment. Her gentle but relentless probing on where he hangs about when she knows he’s in Monaco. 

“You’re doing a bad job at pretending you’re only happy because of Ferrari. Is there someone special in your life? You look like you're in love.”

The hardest one. The one that makes him want to blurt it all out something he had never said out loud to anyone ever, not even Max: Yes, I am in love, more than I ever thought possible.

“Why can’t you tell your own mother?”

He puts the fork down harder than he means to, the sound startling both of them. She looks over her shoulder, brow furrowed, silence crawling around the room, filling every free space. 

Charles takes a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He’s dying to tell someone. To tell her. To share the happiness that bubbles inside him every time Max so much as looks at him, the way Max’s smile makes his world turn upside down. He’s already nearly spilled it to Pierre more times than he can count. And now, sitting here, the words claw their way up his throat faster than his brain can stop them.

“Okay,” he blurts out, his voice louder than he intended. His mother turns fully now, watching him with that patient, all-knowing gaze that makes him feel like he’s still ten years old and caught stealing cookies. “Yes, I’m with someone.”

Her face softens immediately, curiosity lighting her eyes. “I knew it,” she says, tone laced with the feeling of winning, the same one he uses when he himself stands on a podium. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Who is it?”

He hesitates, his hands curling into fists on the table. Every muscle in his body tenses as the next words tumble out.

“You won’t like it, Mamma. Nobody will. It’s career-ending if it gets out.”

She sits down slowly, her brows knitting together in concern. “Charles,” she says carefully, leaning forward. “I might not understand racing as much as you do, but I do understand love. The time I spent with papa was the best thing I could ever wish for. And if my child, the one born out of our love, is experiencing the same thing, nothing else matters.“ It's becoming impossible to fight the urge to tell her the name immediately. Because what does one say to follow up that. 

She continues. "Is it someone from Ferrari? You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything."

"No," he speaks, his voice sharper than he intended. Her expression flickers, and guilt washes over him. He softens, exhaling shakily. Fuck it, there goes nothing. Maybe the questions will stop after this. "It’s a man."

There it is. The truth. The first and most terrifying step.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. Instead, her head tilts slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And?"

Charles stares at her, his mouth dry, his heart pounding. That’s it? No judgment, no hesitation?

He swallows hard. "And... I’d like to bring him over for dinner," he mumbles, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. His chest feels tight with adrenaline, but there’s something exhilarating about it too. Like throwing himself into a corner on a wet track, knowing it could go horribly wrong but trusting himself to pull through.

His mother reaches across the table, placing her hand gently over his. "Charles," she says softly, her voice unwavering. "Anyone who makes my child happy is welcome in this house."

The weight in his chest shifts. Small wave of temporary relief washes over him, so profound it nearly makes his head spin.

"Sunday," he says quietly. "After the race."

She nods, smiling warmly as she squeezes his hand. "Sunday it is. I’ll make something special."

It all dawns on him on the way home. By patching a small wound, he managed to create a whole different one. He’s not just made a promise to his mother. He’s made a promise that relies entirely on Max agreeing to something he knows Max won’t like. Charles stops in the middle of the street, the cool night air biting at his cheeks. He can already imagine the way Max will react. The scowl, the tension in his shoulders, the way he’ll cross his arms defensively and say something like, "Schatje, why do you always have to make things complicated?"

For a moment, Charles considers calling the whole dinner off. He could make an excuse, tell his mother Max is traveling, or the timing isn’t right. But then he thinks about Max - about the softness in his eyes when they’re alone, the way he reaches for Charles in the quiet moments, the quiet vulnerability he hides from the rest of the world.

Charles loves him, even if he struggles to say it out loud. He’s just going to have to convince him, let him break through his shell.

As he unlocks his apartment door, Charles resolves to talk to Max. He can already feel the nerves twisting in his stomach, but for once, the fear doesn’t outweigh the hope.

For Max, for them, he’ll make it work. He just has to. Otherwise, what is the point of all of this? He does not need to flaunt their love in everyone's faces. But he wants at least someone to know. He's proud of their unlikely journey. So proud, it makes his heart want to jump out of his chest sometimes.

//

Max loves race and practice debriefs. He always has. The precision, the data, the raw feedback, it’s where he thrives. Things are clear when data is involved. No margin for assumptions of decision based on false pretense. But today’s debrief feels different. Suffocating. Mainly, because the data speaks for itself. 

The sour feeling starts with the slides. A giant screen dominates the room, displaying Charles’ lap times from practice, sector by sector, alongside Max’s. Every thousandth of a second where Charles was faster is highlighted in beaming bright red, as if to drive home the point. This season, there are people specifically designated to dissect Charles’ times. He’s the main enigma, the unknown. Max tries to shut off any guilt creeping in. His personal life has nothing to do with what happens on track. He knows that’s not what team would think. Had they found out that Charles regularly wakes up in his sheets, they’d find a way to use it for the team to beat Ferrari. 

“Leclerc was gaining on you in Sector 2 here,” the one of the strategists assistants speaks, circling a specific corner on the map with his laser pointer. “You carried too much speed into Turn 6, and he took a tighter line—clean, precise. That’s where the gap started.” Long gone are the times when the people in the room would feel like they had to sugarcoat the truth to Max. Overtime, they leaned that the best way is to serve it as it is. 

Max’s jaw tightens. He stares at the screen, but the words blur together. This isn’t the first time they’ve dissected Charles like this, and it won’t be the last.

“His medium-tire stint was particularly strong,” another engineer chimes in, clicking to the next slide. It’s a chart, Charles’ performance in clean air compared to Max’s in traffic. “He’s consistently managing his degradation better than you in the latter half of the stint. We need to figure out how to counter that.”

Max’s fingers tap against the table, a restless rhythm that no one seems to notice.

"It’s not just the car," the strategist continues. "Charles is not afraid to play dirty with his teammate." Max should feel proud. He’s the one who’s been drilling that into his brain. Now, it’s starting to feel more like digging his own grave. "You saw how he defended in Turn 3 today." The unspoken end of the speech hangs in the air. He’s beating you, Max. If he goes like this, he’ll finish the season above you. Get a grip. 

There’s an edge to the words that grates on Max’s nerves. He knows what they’re implying. That Charles is evolving, becoming sharper, stronger. 

"He’s reading you," the engineer adds, tapping his pen against the table. "You’re predictable to him in some situations. We need to mix things up. Throw him off. Make him doubt himself."

Max finally looks up, his expression blank but his voice cold. What a bizarre thing to get asked of. "You want me to play games with him?"

The room falls silent for a moment. The engineer hesitates before replying. "Not games, Max. Just… keep him guessing."

Max leans back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. His team has no idea how hard it already is to keep things straight with Charles. On the track, off the track - it’s all a balancing act. A line he has to walk perfectly every single time.

"Anything else?" Max asks flatly, his voice cutting through the tension.

The strategist frowns, glancing at the screen before turning back to Max. "We’re not saying he’s unbeatable, Max. But you need to stay sharp. Leclerc’s coming for you, and he’s not going to let up. He’s your biggest threat this season."

The words linger in the air, louder than the hum of the projector or the scribble of pens against paper. Max doesn’t respond. He doesn’t trust himself to. Because what can he say? That Charles has already gotten under his skin in ways his team could never imagine? That every time they ask him to find a way to "beat Leclerc," they’re unknowingly poking at something far more personal?

Max clenches his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms. He forces a small nod, his face carefully blank.

“Understood,” he says, his tone clipped. "Monaco race this weekend is a crucial one,“ the head strategist adds and Max almost laughs, because he says this about every fucking race. 

The debrief continues, more slides, more data, more dissection of the man Max has to pretend he’s indifferent to. But the truth lingers just beneath the surface, raw and unresolved.

Charles isn’t just his biggest rival. He’s his greatest weakness.

As he drives home, he can’t stop small doubts forming in his head from getting louder with each corner he passes. Days, months and years spent, sacrificed, only to get him to where he is now - and suddenly, it feels like he is letting that all pass through his fingers for few moments of unfiltered pleasure. Guilt enters the chat. Work of so many people tainted, because he can’t keep it in his pants. This is the first time he cancels on Charles. He does not trust himself around him today.  

//

It's a long Thursday evening talk, topic being the Sunday dinner. And it goes just about as Charles expected. Back and forth - it's not a fight per say, but it does resemble one.

Max argues that Charles is pushing things too quickly. That to bring up the topic of official introduction to his family day before qualifying is a low blow. That he should have talked to him before agreeing to step big like that. Charles apologizes many times, comes close to pleading for making this happen. Apologies don't seem to land well with Max. Surprisingly, Charles is the first one to reach anger. Does not understand why Max pushes so much against this. He asks hard questions that Max can't answer. Throughout the talk, Max becomes more and more numb. In the end, he agrees to the dinner. They fall asleep next to each other and don't fail on kissing each as a last thing of the day.

//

Once the idea flourishes in Max's head for few days, he becomes more accostumed to it. Pascale is a kind woman. If Charles believes she will be supportive, he just has to trust him. He wishes he could find the time to tell him in person, but another busy weekend prevents him from doing so.

//

DNF. In Monaco. Charles is fuming. He's smashing things again. Tears fall down his cheek in the privacy of his driver room. His home race. Fumbled from the start, he didn't even get to finish - which in hindsight might be a blessing. Having to drag his half functioning car back to the pit and look at the faces of sympathetic mechanics. As always, he stares misery right into its face and watches the rest of the race, eyes glued to the monitors. He gets to watch Max, cruising through and then experiencing the brutal Hamilton ruling the world of racing. He's witnessing the cheer in Ferrari garage as penalties push Vettel in front of Max. He's not even sure how he feels about that one. What he would like to believe is that there isn't any part of him that would be happy about Max missing the podium. The internal decision comes - ignoring any thoughts reaching that topic, shutting down and focusing on his own tragic race. Next year. It will just have to be next year. As he walks through the hoards of reporters, sponsors, fans and just about everyone he's ever met, he feels so painfully small. A confused, beaten up child. It all melts into one big blur. He hides in his new apartment and ignores Max's texts.

//

Max manages to get hold of Charles the following noon. It's clear in Charles' tone that this one stings. Max tries to distract him and for a moment it almost works.

"I'm excited about this evening," he hears Charles getting little more relaxed once they get onto this topic.

"Are you sure you don't want to meet up before that? So that we could like, hang out prior to speaking to Pascale?" Max can't shake this strange feeling that he does not want to walk in there without seeing Charles first. Just few months ago, the man on the other side of the phone call would do almost anything to prevent her from finding out. And now, he's urging him to walk in as if it was the most casual thing ever.

"I think I need to clear my head from the race alone. Just for a little longer...Oh and Max, just a reminder - my mom does not really like red roses," Charles says instead and has Max roll his eyes. Talk about subtle demands.

"You're impossible," he says instead of any filler words.

"And yet..."

"And yet."

//

Somehow, with the way how tragically his first home race with Ferrari went, this dinner is starting to become the one light that's still up there to guide Charles out of this with at least some achievement in his pocket. The one thing he can win. Last part of his life where has some control left. These past few days have been several steps back for every one tiny leap forward. But his mother and Max might just be the last people who won't look at him with the quiet, suffocating pity that twists the knife of his own humiliation. With Max, it's an agreement - they don't hang out together directly after one of them has a bad race. It's too hard to navigate. They don't feel sorry for each other. The urge to seek validation after a failure is something they have to saturate elsewhere. It feels like first day of school. Charles gets ready at his apartment and arrives to his childhood home with enough time to spare, with the intention of pretending to help his mother in the kitchen, while both of them know she'll do anything in order for him not to meddle. He ignores everything else happening, pushes all this weekend inside and fills his head with daydreams about Max and Pascale finding common ground, about Max fitting into his safe space perfectly, cementing their connection. They'll tell the story of how they got together for the first time and truth be told, Charles can't wait to hear Max telling his point of view. His mom will get to be the first witness of their connection. He'd been terrified of her finding out about them, so to allow himself to make this extra step has been a thrilling distraction from it all. He can see it clearly: Max in his sharp, casual confidence, offering his blunt humor in the way that always disarms Charles, even when it shouldn’t. Pascale teasing Max, probably about his awful performance at the hair salon that morning after their first night together, and Max would lean into it, charming her in that effortless, maddening way of his. By dessert, Pascale would see exactly what Charles sees - the real Max, the man beneath the hard edges. He has a good feeling about this - his mom is already asking him so many question about "the mystery guy" that's on his way. And Charles talks and talks and talks.

A long hour later, the table is set, the food is warm, and Pascale is opening a bottle of wine. But Max isn’t there.

At first, Charles tries not to think too much of it. Max is probably running late, nothing unusual in the racing life. He tries to ignore the fact Max is rarely, almost never, late. Charles double checks the text he had sent him, just to make sure he did not mess up the information about the time or address. In the middle of each of her stories, Pascale finds a moment to pause, seemingly addressing the situation, non verbally. It only takes one look. While she does not approve of this behavior, she is there as a supportive figure. It keeps Charles going. Max won’t miss this. 

Still, as Pascale lights the candle in the center of the table, Charles finds himself glancing at his phone. No messages. No missed calls.

Pascale has a talent for addressing the unspoken. She’s been silent on this topic for some time, filling the space with latest stories from the neighbors, skillfully getting away from the topic of Charles’ visitor. 

"He’s probably just caught in traffic," he says aloud, mostly to himself. "Lot of the roads are still blocked," he addresses the obvious. Like this is Pascale’s first time being in Monaco during a Grand Prix. 

Pascale doesn’t comment, though he notices the small glance she gives him, her quiet way of observing.

Charles picks at a piece of bread, his nails all gone now as a result of his never-ending bitting. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty.

The silence starts to press in. Pascale makes an effort to fill it, chatting lightly about the neighbor’s new dog or the strange man she saw at the market, but Charles can’t focus. His mind keeps drifting to Max.

What’s taking him so long?

His phone vibrates, and he grabs it instantly, his heart leaping. But it’s just a notification from one of his racing group chats. He sets the phone back down, his chest tight. Pascale is doing her best to lighten the mood up. She began to avoid the subject of Charles' lover just when it started to be clear he is late. Painstakingly so.

//

The bouquet of white lilies and pale pink roses sits forgotten on the counter, the paper wrapping soaking at the bottom. Max glances at the clock for the third time, his chest tight with the nagging guilt of being late. Pascale is waiting. Charles is waiting. He needs to leave.

But, that is currently not an option. Just as he was about to put his shoes on and head out, his dearest father decided to pay him an unannounced visit. One of the pro's of Monaco racing weekend. Everyone is in town.

"Dad, I'd love to chat, but I really have to get going," he says again, speaking in Dutch, as they always do when their alone. But Jos is standing firmly, blocking the hallway, his arms crossed, and that familiar expression - half-smirk, half-glare - plastered on his face. He owns the room. Max knows this face. Whatever is about to follow is not going to be nice. He asks him once more, if the matter at hand really can't wait until tomorrow. The only reaction he gets from his father is a nod towards the kitchen table. There is nothing else for Max to do than follow his lead, unless he want to get into a fight immediately.

"So, where are you rushing so much?" Jos asks once they're both seated, his tone calm but carrying the unmistakable weight of trouble in the air.

Max knows better than to not proceed with caution. This is not a friendly catch up. This is a screaming warning: negotiations ahead.

"Dinner," he keeps his answer deliberately short. Somehow, even this one word gets Jos rilled up. His lips shut into a thin line, his gaze stuck on the table, where his fingers are tapping the glass.

"With who?" Jos shots back, his voice slicing through the air.

Max is calm on the outside, storm of panic brewing on the inside. He knows. "Nothing serious," he lies.

There is a momentary shine is Jos's eyes, as he smirks once again. "That is a good answer. Remember it."

It's like a knife to his chest. Before diving into the difficult conversation, Max manages to send a quick text to Charles, while his father smirks at him. He does not have time for an apology.

//

The text message is short. Too short.

I’m not going to make it. Need to talk.

The words blur on the screen as Charles stares at them, his breath catching in his throat. 

He reads it again, and again, his fingers tightening around the phone until his knuckles turn white. Need to talk. The phrase feels like a punch to the gut, its weight heavy with implications he doesn’t want to consider.

Pascale’s voice pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts.

"Charles?" she asks softly, her brow furrowed with worry.

He blinks up at her, forcing himself to breathe. His mind races, scrambling for something to say that will keep her from asking too many questions.

"He’s not coming," he concludes finally, his voice flat, hollow. ůSomething came up."

She frowns, leaning forward slightly. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," he lies, sitting still. "He’s not like this…He cares," Charles does not know where the tendency to defend Max comes from or why it is here, but it's an automatic reflex. Nothing is lost, yet. He tries, desperately, not to panic. His racer instincts kick in and his body is taking in this new wave of adrenaline. He must have pushed Max too far. It was a mistake to force this upon him. He’ll need to do some damage control. The realization that just because someone is willing to spend every available night kissing you goodnight does not automatically mean that they are ready to be your official partner. Charles is a romantic person - something that not everyone might share. He like to believe life is better than it usually is.

It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, totally fine. He’s trying to hide his hand that began to shake a minute ago. If he stays strong, his mom might just believe that Max is not a complete asshole. 

There is unmistakable sorrow and a hint of disappointment in his mother’s face, but her words tell a different story. Somehow, this disconnect makes it all just a little redundant. She is dancing around the truth that both of them don’t want to address. "I know, Charles. I’ve known you well enough to know that you won’t just settle for anyone. It’s ok. A strong relationship won’t crumble over one missed dinner. Don’t let that happen."

They sit like that for about ten minutes, which for Charles seems like seven hours. Charles knows there is nothing his mother can say to make this go away. He is still for one more second, before he stands up abruptly, the chair nearly falling down.

"I'm sorry mamma, I have to see if everything is alright." Without waiting for her response, Charles grabs his jacket and heads for the door. His heart pounds as he pulls it on, his mind a swirl of emotions - anger, disappointment, confusion, fear and all of these are tripping one over each other creating a cacophony he does not want to listen to. Not this weekend. Not after the fumble of a race he's had.

As he steps into the night air, one thought rises above the rest: This isn’t like Max. Something’s wrong. All he knows is that he can’t sit still, can’t wait for Max to decide when and where they’ll have this talk, which is apparently so important they can't have dinner at his mother's house prior to that.

Rip the bandaid quickly. If Max won’t come to him, Charles will go to Max. Whatever’s happening, he’ll find out. He has to.

//

With a swift move, Jos whips out a paper folder, its edges worn as though it had been handled too many times. He sets in on the table, slowly, and to be honest, overly dramatically. It slides toward Max.

Max glances at the folder and then at his father's face, obviously inviting him to open this up. Max is determined to stand his ground as long as possible. He does not move.

His father only smiles at the lack of reaction. "You already know what this is, don't you?" It could be anything - leaked texts, phone call recordings...But most likely a photo. Max tries to brace himself and his last though is that maybe, just maybe, he is wrong and whatever this folder contains does not have anything to do with Charles. He is not wrong. It's obvious from the first second he sees the image. Staring back at him is a blurry, but clear enough photo of him giving a small peck on Charles' cheek. The smile on the Ferrari driver, wide as the sun, makes it sting all that much more. On a normal day, he would be almost grateful to have a photo like this in his possession. He recalls precisely what moment this commemorates. He forgot himself, or possibly ignored for one second the fact they were out in the open, and kissed Charles, after he messed up yet another English idiom. It was the cutest thing. He was about to pay a gigantic price for the warmth he felt that one time. Max is not a man to cry easily. But there's only so much he can take as a person. After the initial drop of his stomach, he gathers up all the strength he has within him to keep it together in front of his fucking father. He looks up and is met with one of the worst expressions he has ever seen on him.

"What, you're only going to look at one photo?" Jos teases, raising his voice, while smiling evilly and starts to shuffle the folder. "Because, there are plenty. Oh, look at that, here it looks like you're holding his hand! It'll look great in the family photo book!" He smashed the pile of photos down with unnecessary force. There must be about ten pictures mapping their short trip from Max's apartment. His heart keeps sinking.

"I'm sorry," Max mumbles quietly, not really knowing what else to say. Part of him hopes that this is all just a really bad nightmare.

Jos switches up his expression, going from almost mocking Max to more distressed. "I'm not even going to comment today on the fact my son likes to fuck pretty boys," he says casually and ultimately, by putting it like that, it brings Max back to when he's ten again, keeping his helmet on just in case his father decides to hit him because of his bad performance on karting track.

"Where did you get this?" Max asks quietly with the intention to keep the conversation as factual as possible.

Jos snorts. "Where do you think? Do you think this kind of thing stays hidden? Do you think nobody is watching you, waiting for you to slip up?" He gestured at the photo. "This? This is a gift. A warning. One that I had to pay a hell of a lot of money to make disappear. More than most people earn in a year."

There is a part of Max that is grateful for his father being one step ahead of him. He just wishes he wasn't so cruel about it. "How long do you know?"

Jos clearly has no plans on being the one answering questions. "How long is this going on?" It's rhetorical one, a mockery laced with Jos' obvious disgust. He has the upper hand. Max is barely able to hold it together. Anything he says will result in an angry response from his father. Because even it this talk lasts for ten minutes, it's too long.

"Let me be absolutely clear, Max," he speaks again, before actually giving him a chance to respond. "This - whatever it is - ends now."

"You can't force me..."

"I can't? Well...Oh ok. You go and fuck whomever, for what I care. You know what, go on and stay with Leclerc. Wait until someone finds out and then you finally become someone who makes a mark on motor racing. The first openly gay driver. Doesn't that sound amazing?" The way he says it makes it sound like the most pathetic title in the whole world.

"Dad.."

"No, seriously. Judging by your performance of late, you don't have it what it takes to become the legend I've managed to convince everyone you will be. So maybe, this actually might be the only way for you to have a legacy." It stings. Awfully familiarly.

"The world has moved on from this homophobic approach," Max tries, but his words come out weak.

Another half-smirk. "Not the world of F1. Half of our sponsors are from countries where they stone people like you," he says with utmost snobbishness. "This is a direct path to ending your career. But maybe it's good. At least you'll have something else than your abilities to blame for not winning a championship." It's like Jos is a cook and Max is nothing but a piece of bread for him to rip apart. No words come for him to defend himself, or Charles.

Jos takes a dramatic pause and closes the file. "Leclerc is using you. He knows he's not better than you, unless he gets into your head. Which is exactly what is happening now."

Max knows deep down his father is not right. Charles can't be doing that and it would take a hell of a lot trying to even get Max to consider this option. It's everything else that his father has said so far crawls around Max's brain and he struggles to find any arguments to defend the whole affair.

"I saved you this time. But we got lucky. I trust you know what to do."

Max wishes he never woke up that morning.

//

Charles does not wait before knocking loudly, nonstop. No sound comes from the inside, after a moment the door opens to silent Max, who stands in his otherwise empty apartment. Charles takes a good look at Max, who seems to not be hurt or particularly distressed in any way. 

Charles gulps. The air of casualty floating around Max, as if this is just another boring day, is infuriating. His expression speaks a different story. Cold, unapproachable and icy. He imagines this is the look other drivers receive when they cross him. The worst kind of Max is silent Max. He manages to become completely unreadable and in that moment, Charles questions whether he had imagined their whole encounter. 

Max does not even greet him. He just stares. There is no quick pulling inside for a kiss. It makes Charles feel guilty, the thought that he’d rather see Max in some sort of crisis, something that would give him a valid excuse for ditching the dinner. But no. There he is. And the sight hurts. Charles fights the urge to rip the beer he’s holding and smash the glass on the floor. 

"I see you're ok," he proclaims as casually as he’s currently able to. His mother's words are ringing in his ears. 

A strong relationship won’t crumble over one missed dinner. Was this even a relationship? 

Max nods and reluctantly steps back, inviting him in and refusing to meet his eyes once he gets closer. Charles can't stop his memory from flashing back to the first time he stormed his apartment and his stomach turns in disgust. He'd probably give up his seat in order to get back to that night, rather than this one. 

He has to fight his body from shaking, and his mouth from spilling out sour and needy comments. 

"You said we needed to talk. And here you are - not talking." Max shifts his weight, fingers tightening around the beer bottle in his hand. "I'm sorry for missing the dinner." His voice is flat, too controlled, like he’s reading a scripted apology and hoping it’s enough to move on.

Charles does not want to know "what came up". Whatever he might say would probably be a lie anyway. He always believed Max’s biggest issue was telling the truth obsessively. But he has seen him lie to others about them endlessly in the past few months. Keeping him like a little dirty secret. His heart sinks. That must be it. He is so ashamed of being seen with him that even the idea of his mother seeing them together is too much. "I'm sorry I pushed you into it." He does not know why he’s apologizing. 

There is a pause on the other side of this conversation. "I like it when you push me out of my shell. I mean, this is how this all started in the first place," Max exhales sharply. It might sound like a fond sentence on paper, but his tone makes a clear emphasis on being pushed.

"I'm sorry I pushed you into that too," Charles lets the words out flatly.

"Stop apologizing, please!" Max finally snaps, his voice cracking with something that’s neither anger nor frustration, but exhaustion. His grip tightens around the back of his neck as he turns away, like he can’t bear to look at Charles when he says it. Like it might break something in him, too.

And it does break something, mainly Charles' patience. "Well then, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell how embarrassed I feel, how I couldn't look my mother in the eyes because even after the shitfest of a weekend I've had, this was the moment when she started feeling sorry for me? Because you couldn't even say why you didn't show up?" Max won't even acknowledge Charles' pain. He's searching for any proof in his eyes that he cares.

Finally, an emotion creeps into Max’s face. Despair and guilt, if Charles is still able to read him correctly. 

"I can't do this," Max says the damning sentence. Charles flashes him a look and more adrenaline kicks in. No. He stares back at him. And, like the enigma Max is, he follows that sentence with launching onto him, gripping Charles' head with everything he has and connecting their lips together, before Charles can even register the words. Charles is helpless. Leans into his touch without any hint of self-control. His thoughts are still, but his tongue is roaming about Max's mouth and this kiss is anything but cute, light or romantic. It is hungry, desperate, borderline aggressive. Somehow, they're finally on the same page. Anger ruling their bodies and it all ends up with Max slamming Charles into the wall, full force, so much it almost hurts. In return, he grips his t-shirt as if the goal was to rip the fabric apart. This is wrong, everything about this is like from a bad dream. He can sense it in Max's touch. Charles feels the first tear of the evening rolls down his cheek and it's all so unhinged, which he realizes only once he can taste his own salty tear mixing with Max's saliva. It acts as a catalyst and he breaks down completely, gripping Max's shoulders, as if he's about to disappear if he lets him go. He knows he's losing him, unless he's already lost him. Charles can feel it in the way Max kisses him - desperation, restraint unraveling at the seams, a kind of hunger that feels more like a last resort than something born out of love. He's never felt smaller, so insignificant and down right doomed. Charles is selfish and a dreamer - he wants to have it all. And right now, it’s making him drown in it, as he grasps on the last remaining straws. 

Inevitably, Max slows his movements down, initial fire dying down and Charles bites his lip one last time before he starts pulling back. "You're the worst things that's ever happened to me," Max whispers and it's probably intended sarcastically, but right now it only makes a harsh chuckle and few more tears come out of Charles. He leans against the wall and stares into the ceiling, trying to swallow the words I love you before they can escape.

He doesn't say them. Max's words burn him like fire.  

"Well, then get ready, because we have a long journey to go through. I have not pulled out my greatest weapons, yet" he replies, not even sure what he means by that. It does however earn him a small sad laugh from Max. 

Then, he exists Charles' personal space and starts pacing slowly around, hands on his hips and Charles can't do anything but watch him and wait for his final sentence. 

"This has gotten too far," Max announces after few moments and Charles can't but agree - but most likely in a completely different context than Max intended. While he's probably referring to their affair in general, Charles would be referring to the fact he left him stranded and cancelled the last minute - and as it looks like, with zero to no remorse. He stays silent. Max stops pacing, his hands still on his hips, his jaw clenched so tight that Charles wonders if he’s actively holding himself back from saying something worse. There's something new in his expression now - something calculated. Charles braces himself for whatever comes next.

His speech is becoming apathetic. "So, one dinner with my mother is too far."

"No."

Charles spots set of flowers on the table, looking truly out of place in Max's apartment. They're smashed up, like he'd thrown them against the wall and then tossed them aside. Kind of like he does with Charles. 

He thought they were meant to be. Painfully similar destinies, yet different enough to keep it fresh. Nobody understands him like Max does. And at the same time, nobody understands him less. They won't make sense to the outside world. He'd always thought that's a good thing. A proof that what they have is real. If it's there, loud and clear, but without a reasonable explanation. That's what love is suppose to be, right? 

"Max, what is going on? Tell me. Speak to me. I'm so lost," he pleas, holding on last strain of hope that this is all just one big mistake. 

Max stops abruptly, voice heavy with something final. "I can't keep doing this."

Charles grips the wall behind him. Max shakes his head, like he's convincing himself of his own words. "Things are different now. Too complicated. We're risking so much and one mistake can cause us our lives. Fuck - I - Charles, you're my biggest rival."

Charles freezes. It's the desperation with this the last word hit the ground that shuts off all the roads leading back to the place they were at just few days ago. He can't help but laugh.

Max exhales sharply, raking his hands through his hair and speaks in a defensive tone. "Every single meeting, briefing, interview - your name is the first thing to come out of their mouths. ‘Charles is faster in Sector this and look, he's doing that...'" his voice tightens. "Do you know what that's like? To sit there and listen to them rip you apart, to tell me exactly how to beat you - and then come home and pretend none of it matters?"

Charles swallows. Of course he does. He's been sitting in meetings like that for the past two years in F1. Ferrari strategist bring up Max at any given opportunity, mainly to avoid the subject of Sebastian. But...they agreed. Racing and home don't mix. He promised. "Max…" The hint of yet another betrayal is probably more than noticeable in his voice.

Max laughs, but it's cold, tired. "You think they wouldn't drop me in a second if they found out I was fucking my biggest competition?"

Charles flinches. Because now he gets it. This is not about Max being afraid. This is Max's ego swallowing him up hard. This is him, unable to tone out the voice of people who don't even have an idea on what kind of damage they cause with their casual remarks. Max probably loves him - but, he will never hear those words. Because Max also has to destroy him. And he doesn’t know how to do both.

It's clear as day. Some sort of mania takes over his body. It's what it is. Now he gets it. It's sudden, quick - the total opposite to the way how he fell for Max. Charles takes a breath, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Max stiffens. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Charles laughs, but it's empty, broken. "I actually get it now." He leans away from the wall and heads towards the door.

Max moves forward like he's going to stop him, but Charles doesn't let him.

His breath shakes, hands clenching at his sides. "You know, I always thought we had something special," he tilts his head slightly. "But maybe we were just inevitable. Two drivers, too fucked up to be anything but this." It's plain as a day. They were way past their expiration date anyway. Charles tries to burn the image of Max permanently in his memory, standing in his kitchen, vulnerable and open - because he knows he's never going to see him like that again. In a way, Charles appreciates that they depart in this way. He probably couldn't stand watching Max grow sick of him. They were fine just two days ago and now there is no "them" to even speak of. Simple, clean cut.

Max studies the floor, as if it holds some answers. "Charles-"

"No." Charles shakes his head, voice all calm now. "You're right. I don't want to be your weakness. And you don't want to be my distraction," he says, making sure to have the last part come out as cruelly as possible. "So I guess that means we're nothing."

Max’s face twists, his whole body going rigid. "Charles, wait - let's pause and think this over, you're everywhere in my life and I-"

Charles interrupts him, because his mind is already made up. "Well. Let me solve one of your problems for you," he says bitterly and does what is most natural to him when he feels like his presence is making the situation worse than his absence. It's like he's being served this option on a silver platter. He has to smile. They'll end just how they started. 

So, he walks out. He recalls promising Max he won't ever do that - and there is a part of him that is doing this purely out of spite, because he knows just how it’s going to infuriate him. And it gives him a sense of control. No longer just reacting to things. He does not need Max. There must be a guy somewhere that will not think of him as an obstacle in his life mission. As an accident that’s gotten out of hand. It's a wave of rush all of a sudden. So he opens the door to unknown rooms inside his head and leaves self-control behind. Invites the most malicious parts of himself inside. 

He has to, in order to save what's left of him. It's bitter and he hates it. But he fails to see any other option. 

Major chords turn into minor. Leading vocals fade out and the only thing guiding him now is the background noise and the beat of his heart. 

He's barely out of the building when his phone start blowing up. Brief check confirms that it's Max. He mutes the phone and buries it deep in his pocket. He needs to get out. For once, Monaco truly has him in a choke hold and he will do anything to leave the city behind. It could burn all down, for what he cares. With Max in it.

//

Max stays glued to the floor as he watches Charles vanish into thin air. Again.

There was no clear plan when Charles inevitably stormed into his apartment. His father kept on urging him to break it off with Charles, so much that Max smashed the flowers when the door closed behind him. His brain worked in overdrive, justifying following Jos' direction, while every cell in his body screamed to do anything but that. And it all mixed together in a perfect mush. There is a way, there always is. But definitely not the way he handled the whole thing up until this point. Do something, you moron. He's fighting himself on every front and if keeps on doing that, he'll stay frozen in the same spot for eternity.

He whips his phone out while he reaches for his car keys. Charles' number on dial - and then few times more - always ending up in voicemail.

That's it. Unable to just stand there and let this slip past his fingers, he heads out the front door of his apartment building and frantically looks around every surrounding street for a glimpse of Charles. The ghost of him seemingly gone into thin air. So, he hops into his fastest car, cursing himself for losing time.

There is zero remorse regarding road traffic rules as he springs out towards Charles' apartment. He's driving on autopilot, lost in the thoughts about the only person who makes him drive like a possessed madman even outside of the track. Nobody else does that to Max. Is that good? Is that bad? Let's not dwell on that.

The brakes certainly do not appreciate the way Max slams them down, the car barely heating up before he swings it into a violent stop against the curb. The tires screech in protest, the engine growling as if it, too, is furious with him.

Max does not care. The only thing he's focused on is Charles, who is approaching his own car right now. He barely registers throwing the door open, feet hitting the ground with the same force that’s been thrumming in his chest since Charles walked out of his apartment. He calls his name, in loud and sharp voice, cutting through the empty street, but Charles doesn’t even flinch.

Max swears under his breath, picking up his pace and crossing the street. "Charles, wait. Just...Just stop for a second." Nothing. No reaction. Not even a glance over his shoulder. Max's heartbeat pounds against his ribs, frustration boiling over. He reaches out, fingers curling into a fist like he's about to grab Charles by the arm, force him to listen. But Charles is already pulling his car door open. He slides into the driver's seat, fingers gripping the wheel with the kind of easy control Max knows too well. Max watches, helpless, as the engine roars to life.

The brake lights flash red against the night, burning into Max’s retinas like an direct beam of sunlight. And then - Charles drives away.

Not with fury, not with recklessness. He doesn't spin the tires, doesn't make a show of peeling off in a rage. No, Charles drives away calmly. Smoothly. Effortlessly. Not skipping gears or overbearing the clutch. Still, in the split second before he disappears down the street, Max swears he sees it. A smile. It's small, barely there, but it's real. A cruel, bitter thing. A smile that tells Max everything he needs to know. Max stands frozen for a moment, the street too quiet now, the air too thick. His pulse is still racing, and the back light of Charles' Ferrari seem to mock him too. His fingers twitch at his sides.

Slowly, stiffly, he turns back to his own car. The driver's door slams shut behind him. Max grips the wheel too hard, the tension in his jaw spreading through his entire body. The engine hums beneath his hands, ready and waiting. He exhales through his nose, sharp and short.

Then, without hesitation, Max slams the pedal.

Fine, have it your way.

He accelerates at alarming speed and leads his car to follow the annoying red one. There is no tears speared for anyone living nearby, let them all suffer with the sound his car is making. It's a long straight followed by a turn to the left - and then he can see Charles' car again. He's still driving like a civilian, perhaps slightly above the speed limit. Max flashes his eyes further down the line. The road is narrow, but not impossibly narrow. He does not think twice about his actions. Let's hope there is no car driving in the opposite direction. No hesitation. His car surges forward, roaring past the tiny gap between streetlights, sliding up alongside Charles, like they're racing down a straight at Spa instead of a dimly lit city road. Funny, how overtaking becomes possible in Monaco all of a sudden.

Max barely registers the blare of a distant horn, the way the world tilts slightly as he swings into position alongside Charles' car. The only thing he's focused on, apart from the road, is him. Hands steady on the wheel, streetlights flickering over his face, mouth set into something too sharp to be neutral. And finally, Charles turns his head.

Max catches the split-second flicker of pure disbelief in his expression - the way his brows snap together, lips parting just slightly, like his brain is still processing the fact that Max is actually here, driving next to him, in the wrong fucking lane. It's not panic, just shock. Max does everything in order to convey to Charles to stop his car. But, the only thing that does is replacing Charles' shock with something else. Something equally crazy as what can be found in Max's eyes.

Charles fixates his look ahead, position of the hands gripping the steering wheel changing. His shoulders settle, his body falling into something that Max knows better than anyone. The click of instinct taking over and just like that, the all-polite Charles is gone. Max barely has time to react before Charles yanks the wheel right, cutting across the road without warning.

"Fuck!" Max slams his brakes as Charles' car swings violently into the turn, tires marking the street. His tail lights flicker as he disappears around the corner, leaving nothing but the smell of burnt rubber behind. Max barely breathes before he reacts. He shoves his foot against the brake, twisting the wheel hard as his car twists into the intersection. The back tires lock up, the entire chassis shuddering violently as he spins - too fast, too fucking sharp, the whole street blurring past in a rush of movement.

He lunges after Charles. Quickly, he's right behind him again, but this time the other car is ready and expecting him. Max has seen these moves countless times before, but never outside of his helmet visor. Charles does not give him any space, recklessly driving in both lanes, only barely letting random car in the opposite lane pass by. He's reading the street like the beast on wheel he can be. Predicting Max's moves and doing everything possible to avoid Max getting ahead of him. At this rate, this is going to end badly very quickly. Max does one more thing to make this even more dangerous and shuffles around, searching for his phone. This makes him lose few seconds on Charles, but nothing he won't be able to catch up to. Once he manages to find it, he dials up Charles' number, his phone thankfully connecting to his car automatically, as Max has to do another manic turn of his steering wheel. Another intersection passed by. The sound of the phone dialing echoing through the whole car, mocking him and making this all much worse.

Charles is heading east, away from the centre and onto the highway. But, before they get there, he turns the car over the an actual part of the Monaco circuit. A track that has barely been dismantled few hours ago.

Max is now calm and focused. Charles is leading them through turns that feel like they should still have barriers up, marshals waving flags. The ghost of the Monaco Grand Prix lingers. Finally, the familiar angles of corners they both know, not just streets of Charles' childhood hometown.

The hairpin is coming up. Max is calculating all the possible moves the Ferrari can make. Charles is setting up wide, making sure he owns the entry, just like he did in the actual race. Max knows what he's doing. The bastard is using the street as his personal defensive line, keeping Max behind him just enough to make sure he can't dive in without risking everything, in a car that is nowhere near as safe and a formula 1 car. For a moment, he considers doing just that, to prove a point and get the lunatic to talk to him, like a normal person. But, racing instincts prevail. It's a Monaco move. And it's fucking working.

The phone still rings, unanswered, the sound piercing in Max's ears. He clenches the wheel tighter, body moving on pure instinct. The next thing he does is a fake move to the outside, knowing full well Charles will react, will shift his car to cover the line. And the second he does, Max cuts inside.

It's a lunge, one he wouldn't have dared to try in an actual Monaco race, but this isn't an ordinary race. It's something else entirely.

Charles reacts fast - of course he does. He sees Max's front light tilting and closing in and jerks his car over, forcing Max to hesitate for couple of milliseconds. That's all it takes. Max almost gets alongside him again, but Charles slams the gap shut, leaving Max inches away from scraping against the concrete barriers still lining the street.

Max slams the brake, feeling the car lurch beneath him, his heart pounding as he barely avoids disaster.

The phone stops ringing. Finally, Charles picks up. There's a pause, just breath and static, before Charles speaks. His voice is frighteningly calm, steady, like he’s completely unfazed.

"Max. Are you trying to kill us?"

It only makes Max chuckle. He's in line behind Charles' car, practically glued on his back. If Charles slowly down even by one second, Max is full on crashing into him. He does not think about that, he only stops at the thought that this is strangely thrilling. Once again, they're speaking the same language.

"Stop the car and talk to me," he orders and copies Charles' racing line.

Charles laughs. It’s breathless, sharp around the edges, the kind of sound he makes when he’s seconds away from snapping.

"Stop being a little bitch, Max. It's pathetic," he sings and hangs up the phone.

Strong words coming from someone who cried in his apartment just minutes ago. Is this his position now? Playing it out tough, acting like a baby? "Dickhead," he comments to no one but himself.

And then - Charles takes off. Max barely has a second to react before Charles swings his car out wide, flooring it onto the open stretch ahead, heading toward the tunnel.

Max doesn't think. He just follows.

Full send into the last turn of the circuit as he heads over to the regular road. The other lane is filled with cars, preventing Max from making any moves. He's cursing himself for missing few opportunities before, the words of his strategist ringing in his head like a loud alarm he can't turn off. Ironically, this might be the best Charles has ever driven around here. Simply fuckin' lovely. It's impossible to get ahead of him. And even if he does, what will happen then? Is Charles going to crash into him? Will he turn the car around without a care for safety of anyone nearby and this whole circus is going to happen all over again?

They are forced to drive more calmly now, nevertheless, to the other people on this road, it still looks like two reckless idiots trying to kill each other. As the scenery changes and houses get replaced by small trees, Max starts to doubt his genius plan of following Charles. They drive like this for half a kilometer. It's obvious where Charles is heading. The last place where Max can be seen.

He dials the phone one more time. To surprise of no one, Charles does not pick up. Max counts his options one more time. His emotions settling down and reality creeping in. Charles does not want to be caught.

All the fury is gone with the wind. Reluctantly, he slows down the car and at the first opportunity turns in the side of the road and kills the engine. He watches, as the scarlet car keeps on going and going, until it disappears over a hill.

He sits in the car for few minutes, then gets out into the cool spring air. The sea below does not provide any answers into what's going to happen now.

chapter 7, part 2

------- @chezmardybum @biancathecool

[girl-lostconnection]

hallo love your work it's so delicious. I also love how you show emotions. I wanted to tickle your brain for a sec if you don't mind (no pressure). What would happen in your AUs (like the acceleration au) if the reader was more um- violate like when simon decides oh this stranger yep he's going in the bed with us, (even if mind you she was chill about the strange man before if a bit hurt) she gets stern and simply tells him to get out of her house. That if he wants to bring his soldier fine- but that is not her problem that is her home her life. Also I saw you had a fic of gaz with what was basically a gym rat reader and omggggg it's so muahhh. I love strong reader.

Finally got to your ask, anon. So I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of days now.

I think the reason why Reader doesn’t outright put her foot down or why nothing too rash actually happens from ANY side of their throuple is from how slow it all burns. The temperature is going up degree by degree, so the frog doesn’t jump out of the pot.

Now, if Simon tried to ram his way through her stating clearly and plainly that she’s uncomfortable with something, than yes, it would be a recipe for a disaster.

But yk the AU works only because these guys listen to each other. Simon knows Reader and Reader knows Simon and Johnny knows Simon and Simon knows Johnny and Johnny tries to know Reader.

The AU works because they try to get attuned to each other and not because one or all of them try to forcefully slot themselves into each other’s lives.

I get where your question is coming from, I’m just explaining my thought process behind the structure of their relationship.

So their relationship however strange it may seem works because they are adults that while have some unhealthy attachments or coping mechanisms are still capable of processing their own emotions and giving each other space.

I know that I don’t go into too much of a detail exactly how it works/feels/goes between them but for me personally that’s part of it. In life for me oftentimes relationships can get complicated and sometimes you do in fact realise that the person you called best friend for years is actually the person you love.

Also, sometimes when coming from a not very fortunate or healthy family you may not know how different types of love feel like. You have no model to take example from so yeah, sometimes it’s a lot of stumbling around and nuzzling into people and taking time a shit ton of time to figure it all out.

And while I get that Simon may seem really annoying to some people, for me he’s actually really endearing because in this AU I understand him perfectly. He’s a man, he has some issues he never worked through, he dislikes conflicts and tries to avoid them, he takes the coward’s way out because he hopes maybe things will fall into place on their own.

And I understand Reader because she loved him all her life, she never said it, she always dreamed about the life that she wasn’t brave enough to live, she’s really jealous that Soap was brave enough to do what she didn’t, she feels ashamed that she’s jealous, she made mistakes, she hates that she did, she is difficult and isn’t sure she’s worth this much trouble. It’s okay, she is. You are. All the trouble and effort.

All worth it.

And I understand Soap. I think I understand him the best out of them all. He’s jealous, he’s used to work himself to the bone, he’s incredible aware, he’s insecure, he’s feeling like he could be left behind (he wouldn’t be), he likes Simon, he likes Reader, he has different needs than Simon or Reader have and he’s not sure how to voice them. He’s there but is he really present? Is he wanted? Is he needed? Is he loved? He isn’t sure. He doesn’t know whether he should ask.

So the thing is that they are all difficult and complicated and multidimensional and honestly, I love the three of them so so much.

Even if they stress you, guys, out sometimes

[mqriuss]

kpop idol au yuzuha x fem idol!reader (Part 2)

jesus christ there's not a lot of you but i expected like two people to read my rambling BUT IM GLAD THE FEW OF YOU THAT READ IT ACTUALLY LIKED THE KPOP IDOL YUZUHA so here's more !!

part 1

i can't keep calling the character's members of your group/your group member/yuzuha's group members, so we need to give them names!!!

... i sat here for like 5 minutes i can't think of group names SO let's just move on to member's names lmao (feel free to give me group name ideas!)

your group members:

you

eunjung

sunhee

miyoung

hyunjae

yuzuha's group members:

yuzuha

haeun

haejung

yunhee

kyungmi

ok now that that's out of the way

your fans love it when you and yuzuha's groups make a comeback at the same time cuz that means they get sooo much interactions during the promotion era.

like music shows are so fun. the fans and shippers are so well fed bc you and yuzuha are (suspiciously) close with each other, the amount of photos and videos you have together are endless. and i haven't watched these in a while but you know when idols like vlog themselves for their youtube channel? yeah, best believe yuzuha will always appear on your group's channel and vice versa.

"oh, and there's y/n," sunhee says, panning the camera over to you. you were eating a snack while getting your hair done before your performance. looking over to the camera sunhee held, you did a little wave. then someone else's head pops into view, "yuzuha is here too for some reason," sunhee snickers, knowing exactly why she's here.

"hey, guys! lemme borrow y/n for a sec, okay?" yuzuha grins, waving at the camera.

username01: sunhee sounds like she knows something we dont

→ username02 replied: it's like i can hear her smile from behind the camera lmao

also, don't forget the tiktok challenges! with every comeback, each of your group's fans are always always expecting the two of you to make tiktoks with each other's new songs.

username01: chat it's been days why haven't we gotten a single y/nzuha tiktok challenge

username02: if we don't get y/nzuha doing each others' tiktok chalenges i will seriously end it all

username03: my theory is that y/n and yuzuha fought over something so it's taking them long to make a tiktok

→ username04 replied: NO WAY they were interacting just fine on the recent show

→ username05: you may never know, idols are good at faking smiles

yet here you sat with yuzuha on the inkigayo stairs, laughing together when she showed you the comments your desperate fans were making.

"oh my god, you're right! they literally expect it from us now," you say in between laughs. it's no wonder this was how fans reacted—i mean, you two were always one of the first to post tiktok challenges. so you purposely tried to mess with the fans by giving them absolutely no content this time around to see if they'll notice.

and like, what were you expecting? of course they'll notice!

y/nzuha shippers are the worst because they genuinely feel like their ship is real. like gayer and realer than any other kpop ship out there, and you and yuzuha feed into it so much. even though you were rivals, this shipping thing is actually beneficial to both of your groups. almost all of your group's fans are also fans of yuzuha's group and vice versa bc of your ship. your duo with yuzuha is even more popular than the duos in your respective groups.

ok anyways, so you and yuzuha finally get up and decide to make some tiktoks together and you decided—after depriving your fans of y/nzuha content, you were going to release ALL the tiktoks you made that day. two of them were your group's respective tiktok challenges, then there was like one thirst trap, two of the tiktoks were like those couple trends—yes your fans went crazy and that is an understatement, and then another random tiktok dance challenge.

username01: they disappear for days AND THEY COME BACK WITH A FEAST

username02: y/nzuha nation, how does it feel to suffer from success?

username03: what the FUCK i was literally just talking about y/nzuha doing this chalenge AND THEY ACTUALLY DID IT... y/n or yuzuha has got to be my oomfs

→ username04 replied: y/n is more likely to be oomf methinks

username05: Y/NZUHA THIRST TRAPPING ON THE OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS SOMEBODY HOLD MY HAND

both you and yuzuha lurk on social media a lot and it's to see the fans reactions to basically anything, you're both hardworking idols—seeing what the fans like and absolutely milking it—in this case, y/nzuha. it's just a cute thing at first like "aw look, yuzuha and y/n used to be on that traumatizing survival show and they're still hanging out and really good friends."

and then it started getting serious like you weren't just a duo anymore, you're a ship. well, you have been since the survival show but with your debuts, you both started getting more fans and as a result, more shippers.

the both of you just look at each other, already plotting different ways to make fans go crazy. your managers had to stop you guys from posting a really really suggestive thirst trap one time, even your members have to give you guys warnings every now and then like you two better cool it!

you also have known for a while now that views aren't really authentic anymore in the kpop industry because of the streaming stuff. your rivalry with her doesn't really show when they announce winners at a music show. but your fans do get a bit of nostalgia when you guys post content together.

username01: this video of yuzuha and y/n is literally just them trying to outsing each other

→ username02 replied: if they ended up in a group together, we could've gotten another girls generation song where every vocalist outsings the other

→ username03 replied: ACTUALLY THO cant we just merge their groups? can they collab already?

or like you know how sometimes, you don't see idols putting in that much energy into each other's tiktok challenges? (no shade btw)

yeah, that could never be you and yuzuha. in every video, fans have noticed you guys have to glance at each other while dancing. giving looks that say "i'm doing your choreo better than you are."

oh your rivalry would also show in variety shows. there isn't really any room for rivalry in terms of music and popularity 'cause you can hardly control how fans view you and if anything, you both are always so supportive of each other's careers. so when you get a chance to go against yuzuha, you take the damn chance.

variety shows are definitely nostalgic for the fans 'cause you two refuse to team up with each other for games unless you were assigned to the same team. fans eat it up so much, there would be so many clips going around on tiktok, instagram and twitter.

while we're on the topic of rivalry, ISAC is a big day for y/nzuha nation.

when everyone finds out yuzuha was the head of the kyūdō club in high school, they're immediately expecting her to win in archery. but you practiced longg and hard to go against her.

now imagine the fans reactions when they find out yuzuha herself helped you train for ISAC lmfaooo

i think that's all the rambling i have for now but here's a bonus: new fans or non-fans of your groups mistake your ship name for y/n x kazuha of le sserafim instead of yuzuha and it's the funniest day on twitter ever. y/nzuha stans attacking them for not knowing it's yuzuha and all 💀

you share a selfie with kazuha after that day for funsies. let's just say, you kinda... sorta... maybe started a little fanwar. but y/n x yuzuha shippers aren't the only ones getting a little jealous. :)

[spiralling-thoughts]

Instead of butchering Caitlyn's character to the point of her becoming extremely unlikable why not give her arc and lore to a different character like idk CAMILLE?

( for those of you who don't know the lore of the game Camille is from a very wealthy and influential piltovan family and she's a assassin who kills any who she perceives as a threat to piltover, she launched with a comic that had her assassinating a chem baron that wanted to marry a piltovan girl and the very thought of a zaunite joining the upper class of piltover is unbelievable for her so she kills him Infront of the girl that wanted to marry him while the girl begged Camille not to do it and that she loved him but Camille didn't care and while the girl was crying over the body of her fiance Camille had the audacity to coldly tell the girl that she should be greatful and that she saved her , in the games interactions too it was implied that she was the reason why vi was a orphan and there was another character named Renata whose parents were genius zaunite alchemists who made medicines that completely healed the deadly diseases of zaun and because piltover was profiting from zauns illness by selling them chronic treatments that would keep the poor dependent on them and Renata's parents were a threat to their profit so they sent enforcers to kill them and burn their house to the ground and it's implied in the game dialogue that Camille was involved in that because she despise zaunites and would kill any of them to ensure that they remain oppressed by piltover she is cold and ruthless and literally heartless and very classiest) yeah if you thought that piltover were bad trust me they are much worse in the games lore they don't just neglect zaun they also ensure that they remain oppressed by them and the enforcers aren't just police force they are guns for hire by the wealthy see now the problem of trying to make them sympathetic?

Anyway Camille is literally the perfect fit for Caitlyn's role and the decisions that Caitlyn made feel like something Camille would do like gassing zaunites and declaring martial law though they definitely should forget the idea of redeeming her Camille is literally a classiest killing machine ( Wich is probably why they didn't use her because that wouldn't help with the both sides are wrong BS they were trying to do)

That way Caitlyn's character wouldn't be ruined and the games fans would be excited seeing more of the game characters joining the screen , best of both worlds

Honestly at this point I feel like the writers could have benefited if they borrowed from the source material since it's clear that they had no idea how to continue after season 1

And if anyone is going to tell me that they won't have time to introduce a new character *choug cough* the strike team and all the other characters

If they wanted to expand the cast then why not bring the characters from the game who are already established and who have their own fans instead of creating new characters then not developing