#but i can see a PR manager doing that on purpose

[macverse]

I was excited that the unexpected Evans might get me to feel inspired to write but all I can see is the G-D FRAMES!

WHY!

One of those is crooked! Or is the wall not straight!? There's a hole to the left! It needs one more. The fuck is this placement! I wanna be inspired by this but all I see if FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAMES!!!

I love a gallery wall. I have a couple in my home. They make me happy. This seems like a couple-y thing that he and his wife would do. But you neeeeeeeeed a test run especially with this many!

I'll stop [user continues to complain in the tag]

US Weekly (August 2024)

Link

[kenjisatos]

MSBY BLACK JACKALS READ THIRST TWEETS ! (ATSUMU EDITION)

second part of this series! i love to see more of this team <3

[sakusa version]

this fic features…

haikyuu timeskip!spoilers, highly suggestive content (as the title entails), inappropriate language, atsumu keeps getting violated by his teammates, i headcanon sakusa to be fluent in english (argue with the wall), genre: crack, some of these are actual tweets i found lol.

The videos begins with multiple flash shots of Atsumu screaming, Hinata and Bokuto bursting into laughter, and a clip of the camera zooming in on Sakusa’s disgusted face.

- cut scene -

“Hi, we’re the MSBY Black Jackals, and we’re here with Buzzfeed to read your thirst tweets.” The 4 of them say together.

Hinata drums on his chair, “Miyaaaaa Atsumuuuu edition!”

Atsumu smirks at the camera, “I know you’ve all been waiting for this.”

The cameraman speaks up, “Are you excited?”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically, “Hell yeah! I can take this like a champ, unlike Omi-Omi…”. He side eyes the outside hitter, who, in return, flips off the setter—but the video pixelates it for censorship.

Bokuto snorts, “That’s what she said…”

Atsumu chuckles and claps his hands together. “Let’s get started!”

- cut scene -

The crew tosses a phone to Atsumu. He catches it and clears his throat. “Alright, first one…”

“How can I transform into one of those cameras used for volleyball games? Oh to get that view of Miya Atsumu’s dick all up in front of me when he does his sexy low set.”

Atsumu chuckles, “I can practically see you drooling from here, user.”

Hinata wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to hit a spike, “It is a sexy set, Miya.”

Bokuto fakes an animalistic growling noise, “When you get down low and—“

“Oh please, why are we praising Miya for flashing the camera?” Sakusa cuts in.

Atsumu huffs, “I’m not flashing them on purpose!” He then turns to the camera and winks, “Unless you want me to…”

“Barf.”

“Shut yer trap, Omi-Omi!”

Hinata snickers, “Miya, your accent is slipping in…”

His voice is high pitched and whiny as he replies, “No, it’s n—!”, he clears his throat, his voice now two octaves deeper, “No, it’s not.”

Bokuto chuckles, slapping the setter on the back. Atsumu simply passes the phone to him to read the next tweet.

“Funny how I want to throw hands at Inarizaki Miya Atsumu, but at the same time, I want to throw my panties off for MSBY Miya Atsumu.”

Sakusa laughs, actually laughs, for the first time since they started the shoot. His rowdy companions slowly turn to him, eyes blown wide at the rare sight of their stoic teammate showing an ounce of amusement.

Sakusa’s laugh trails off, “Yeah…you were a piece of shit in high school.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were. Still are.”

Hinata tries to reassure the blond, “Don’t worry, Miya, I thought you were cool.”

Bokuto quips, “Hinata, I thought you couldn’t tell the difference between him and Osamu.”

Hinata’s eyes widen and Atsumu glares at the orange-head, “Seriously, Shoyo?”

Hinata waves his hands dismissively, “I-I-I…”

Atsumu sighs, “You guys keep distracting me! I’m supposed to be replying to these thirst tweets.”

Bokuto holds a hand to his heart, “We are sorry, your highness.”

Atsumu looks at the camera and smirks, “Keep your panties on, ladies. I like to do it with them on.”

Sakusa stares at Atsumu in disgust, the beginning scene of the video making its’ debut as the cameraman zooms in on Sakusa’s revolted expression.

“How do you do it with it on?” Bokuto thinks out loud.

Hinata responds, “I think he means it’s pulled to the side?”

Bokuto’s mouth turns into an animated ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, or or or he—“

Their pr manager coughs loudly off screen. Sakusa gives their manager a grateful look, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

The other three pout as their conversation is cut short. Bokuto hands the phone to Hinata; he squints his eyes at the screen as he tries to make out the words. He begins to read:

“Have y’all seen Miya Atsumu? If that dick slap his thigh when he walk, I shall listen when he talk.”

Hinata laughs but continues, “The Twitter user reposted themselves saying ‘Sheesh.’ with 18 fucking android emojis.”

Bokuto leans closer to Hinata, “Ooh! Lemme see, lemme see.”

Atsumu grins smugly with his eyes closed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to run through his platinum hair.

Sakusa speaks up, “Stop posing for the edits.”

Atsumu seems to ignore Sakusa’s comment as he faces the camera. “Well in that case, I guess you’ll all be listening to me.”

Hinata snorts, “Proof?”

Bokuto guffaws while Hinata holds his laughter in behind a cheeky smile.

Atsumu’s cheeks flush red at his words, “I ain’t showing you nothin’!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, “Trust me, we’ve seen enough in the locker room.”

Bokuto hides behind Atsumu and holds his hands up a certain distance to insinuate the length of Atsumu’s…commodity.

Atsumu continues, practically flirting with the camera, “But trust me y’all, it does, indeed, slap.”

Hinata leans his elbow over Atsumu’s shoulder, “Yeah and so does he!”

The sound effect of a turntable skidding plays.

Atsumu flinches away from Hinata, “WHAT???”

Their pr manager stands up quickly from their seat, a horrified expression on their face; the threat of losing their job rushing in their head.

Bokuto is holding a hand over his mouth, the Buzzfeed crew members are exchanging nervous looks, even Sakusa has his eyes wide open.

Hinata realizes his mistake and freezes for a moment before he’s jumping and scuttling around in a panic.

“I-I-I MEAN HE SLAPS—NO, NOT LIKE SLAPS, LIKE SLAPS LIKE SLANG ‘YEAH THAT SHIT SLAPS’ KIND OF SLAP. NOT PHYSICAL ABUSE SLAP I—”, he exhales sharply, “I’M GONNA STOP TALKING NOW!!”

Sakusa snorts and covers his face with his hands, Bokuto has tears in his eyes from how hard he’s holding in his laughter, the MSBY pr manager sits back down, their pale face slowly regaining its color. Atsumu is left with what can only be described as a sea-sick expression, almost constipated. After a few seconds, he remembers how to speak and says:

“Shoyo…what the fuck.”

“I’M SORRY!”

Sakusa opens his palm up, he’s biting his lip to not let a chuckle escape. “Give me the phone, Hinata.”

Hinata wordlessly hands the phone over as Bokuto giggles and places both his hands on Hinata’s shoulders and jumps in place to brighten up the mood.

Atsumu finally laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Almost caught myself a scandal there.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Sakusa mutters as he scrolls to the next tweet he has to read.

“Miya is so fucking hot, I want that man to turn my legs into jello.”

Atsumu grins, “Well well well—“

Sakusa continues reading the tweet, “I’m talking about Miya Osamu btw, aka the better twin.”

Atsumu opens his eyes, “Huh??”

Sakusa snickers, “Finally a tweet I agree with.”

Bokuto raises his hand to cup around his lips and whispers to Hinata, “Here come the SakuSamu shippers…”

Hinata whispers back, “I thought they were called Omigiris…”

The camera crew turns to a very confused Atsumu, “We thought it would be funny to add an Osamu tweet” one of them says.

Atsumu scowls like a petulant child.

Hinata perks up, “Osamu is pretty sexy, ey? In his Onigiri Miya compression shirt too…”

Bokuto nods in agreement, “And that cap? Smash.”

Atsumu whines, “Guyssss, this is supposed to be about meeee!”

“Womp womp.”

“Omiii :(“

Sakusa gives the phone back to Atsumu, who pouts and sticks his tongue out before he grumbles, “Y’all love to bully me, huh? And here I thought we would have deep team bonding conversations.”

Sakusa quirks an eyebrow up, “…at a thirst tweets shoot?”

“It’s personal and vulnerable,” Hinata replies.

“The only vulnerable thing at risk here is my wellbeing,” Sakusa retorts.

Atsumu sighs as he grabs the phone from Sakusa. “I hope the next tweet makes me feel better…”, he mutters.

“I just know that if Miya Atsumu called me a real good boy, it would awaken something in me.”

Bokuto starts barking at that, “Yeah, it awakens that inner dog in me.”

“We are the Black Jackals.” Sakusa comments, matter-a-factly.

“Are they talking about that time you and Kageyama were at that youth camp?” Hinata asks.

Atsumu nods, “I believe so.”

“Then how do they know you said that…?”

Sakusa responds amusedly, “Knowing Tobio, he probably tweeted about it. That man hates Miya.”

Atsumu defends himself, “Hey now, hate is a strong word. Tobio-kun is just jealous that I’m Shoyo’s setter.”

Bokuto, once again, leans in closer to Hinata to whisper, “Here come the KageHina and AtsuHina shippers…”

Atsumu stares right at the camera with a smoldering expression, “User, you’re being a real good boy…”

Bokuto barks again. The video adds a sound effect that makes it sound like a chorus of Bokutos are barking all around.

Atsumu laughs and passes the phone to Bokuto.

“Someone on here said the English equivalent to Miya Atsumu’s Kansai dialect is a country accent. Well then, call me a cowboy the way I’d be riding that man till the break of dawn. #SaveAHorseRideACowboy”

The video adds a cowboy hat and lasso to Atsumu, who pretends to be on a horse. His voice is much deeper as he says, “Yeehaw~”

“Oooh we have international fans!” Hinata speaks excitedly.

Bokuto’s eyes light up at Hinata’s comment, “Oooh, Omi-kun, say something to them!”

Sakusa squints his eyes and raises an eyebrow, “What do you want me to say?”

Atsumu jumps in, “Tell them I’d be happy to let them have a go at this rodeo ride.” He clicks his tongue with a wink.

Sakusa sighs then looks directly at the camera, and says the following in perfect English: “I hope your taste in men improves from what it is now. My condolences.”

Atsumu smiles, completely oblivious to the insult. “Thanks, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa smiles, an evil little smile. “My pleasure.”

- cut scene -

Atsumu tosses the phone back to the crew, “And that was it! I thoroughly enjoyed the ego boost, minus the parts when the team bullied me.”

“You were a good sport, Miya.” Hinata tells him.

“Thanks, Shoyo. And you’re a horrible speaker.”

Hinata’s face burns scarlet again at the reminder of his misfortunate wording earlier.

“2 out of 4 completed!”, Bokuto exclaims.

“Yes, we’re so close to being done.” Sakusa says, though he looks way too happy and relieved.

“More coming your way!” Hinata adds.

“Stay tuned~” Atsumu points at the camera.

“We’re the MSBY Black Jackals, goodbye!”

kenjisatos

🏷️ @dervngedgf

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi could u write max x sunshine desi reader where she is his teammate and everyone (all drivers and team principles)adores her and she is known for wearing saris to events and award ceremonies and max and her having a grumpy x sunshine trope

Also like pr games for insta or smthing where he pronounce hindi words or muhavare and its cutee and fans love them!!!!!

I loved superstitions!!!!

swear words ✧˚ · .

Summary: Based on the anon's request!

⟿ mv x desi!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

⟿ fluff ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

masterlist ☾☼

max was not grumpy. he was fun, and he was slightly unhinged, but he was not grumpy. though, in comparison to his teammate, y/n, everyone else seemed grumpy. she was quiet literally sunshine embodiment.

the two had been teammates for two seasons now, and everyone loved her. as they should. secretly, max also loved her. he would never say it out loud, though.

his favourite thing about her was the way she dressed up for any and all non-race event. she was always in a kurta or a sari. max had not known what her attire was called till he heard her talking about it once to charles' girlfriend. he could have done the sensible thing and just asked her himself, but finding out the way that he had done was easier.

max and y/n's relationship had really changed from teammates to more after max had attempted to anonymously gift her a sari for an event. y/n had looked radiant, max was speechless, and the rest was history for them.

it was during one of the PR events where max had gotten unhinged again and cursed a few times. the managers were furious, but she could tell that he didn't really give a fuck. to save him from future scoldings, y/n had come up with a plan that she really thought could save him.

"max," she called out.

"yes, my love,"

"i'm going to save you from future pr nightmares," she said confidently.

max laughed, "right, okay. how are you going to do that?"

"you're always getting in trouble for saying swear words on live tv. what if you say them in a language people don't understand?" there was a glint in her eyes that told max that she was going to be trouble. but, he loved her for it.

"how are we going to do that?"

"baby, i come from a country where we have a wide range of swear words. we've got different categories too."

max laughed. he did that more around her. he would never let anyone from the outside world see or know that.

"i'm serious! we've got swear words for moms, sisters, animals, body organs, animal body organs. you name it, and we probably have it!" y/n insisted.

"okay, okay, i believe you. teach me some of the words, and i'll see if it works for me,"

y/n clapped her hands in excitement, and began going through her list, explaining their meaning.

max had never been more in love.

a few months later, when the desi f1 fans caught what was happening, they made a compilation video. it consisted of every hindi swear word that max had said in interviews and such, with y/n laughing in the corner, and the interviewer being absolutely clueless on what was being said. the video had compiled all of those moments with the least to worst swear words, purposely not adding the meanings to keep the rest of the world confused.

it was a long time before anyone else, especially the red bull pr managers caught on, and only then did y/n get yelled at for the first time by them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

this is the first max verstappen imagine I've written! idk if this is what you wanted, anon, but honestly, I couldn't see max saying muhavre and stuff, but I could see him saying a lot of curse words in hindi, so I went with that! also, I love the fact that when I went on Pinterest to look for pictures of max, almost every picture was of him smiling or laughing. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[txttletale]

Ok so, let's assume there are 2 steps on how to deal with AI, which are:

give up on luddite dead end pursuits of turning back the clock to more indivualized production

put energy into productive working class organizing

Could you please elaborate who is even trying to do that thing you mention in step 1? Those in denial? I have yet to see anyone, all I see is people being upset and thus hating it, which is a natural reaction to having your art be stolen. Give it time, people need time to process this change.

And regarding your step 2, that's gonna happen either way? I mean, what choice do artists have? Same as all tech that those in power want to push, ai is gonna persist, it's inevitable, as is artists trying to adapt.

I genuinely see no sense in posts advocating for ai, like, it doesn't need that, it's doing good without you guys, it has a pr team working tirelessly trying to integrate it daily. What are tumblr users who advocate for it trying to accomplish here? Make artists hate it less? As an artist whose art got stolen, even if I do manage to successfully adapt, I will not stop hating ai and those behind it? Like, what's the purpose here 😭 Sorry this got kind of long

i mean i don't consider myself an 'advocate' for 'ai art'. generative visual art is an artform i personally have little interest in making. i think if openai went bankrupt tomorrow it would be awesome and very funny. you are making a classic mistake, which is to assume that every issue is like a splatoon splatfest with two clearly defined teams. i point out that the things that people frothed up into anti-AI hysteria say are at best untrue and at worst deeply reactionary, pushing right-wing social views about art or right-wing economic views about copyright because i think those things are bad.

i don't bother making posts pointing out that, like, @ApeHODL69Doge on twitter who thinks every movie will be ai generated by 2026 is moron because, very simply, i don't exist in a social environment where i run into that kind of guy or anyone who doesn't think that kind of guy is a moron, and also because liberals can and have done a pretty great job comprehensively debunking that type of guy's nonsense arguments and empty tech hype.

this does not apply to me but many users on tumblr who "advocate for AI art" are literally just defending themselves against vicious ableist harassment mobs who think it's okay to tell a disabled person their disablity isn't real or they should draw with their mouth or they're just whiny because they used the funny picture machine, so i think what those people might be trying to accomplish is to stop getting harassed, and i think that's a pretty admirable goal

my personal goal is to encourage people to think more critically about new technologies and understand that where these new technologies immiserate them it is because of the social structures and economic system under which that technology is deployed, not because of an evil devil curse lurking in the technology itself. hopefully this answers some of your confusion.

[glassrowboat]

Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ who said that I hate you? - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: S/n, the rookie in Formula 1, challenges sexism in the sport, facing criticism, intense rivalries, and false accusations. Amid fierce disputes with Charles Leclerc and unexpected support, she fights to prove her talent.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Charles Leclerc x Female Reader! Red Bull Driver

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ warnings: Heavy sexism, fake news (??), Charles being a complete jerk, and angst. Let me know if I forgot anything.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be a short story, but I got carried away and had to split it into two parts. If you guys like it, I’ll post part two tomorrow! English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, sorry 🤍

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ part two here! ✨

Formula 1 has always been a male-dominated sport, but who said that would stop rookie S/n from claiming her place? No, giving up was never on her list of options.

You’ve spent your whole life hearing that you would never make it into Formula 1, that you could never compete on equal footing with a man. But when you finally signed a contract with one of the top teams on the grid, you realized the biggest challenge wasn’t on the track—it was the people who wanted to see you fail.

Among those people was Charles Leclerc, one of the most beloved drivers among fans. Charles hated the attention you were getting, convinced that everything you did was just marketing and nothing more. He made sure to make that clear, with interviews filled with sharp remarks and intense on-track battles.

To Charles, S/n was nothing more than a lucky rookie. To S/n, Charles was just another jerk trying to bring her down—like so many before him.

“S/n, are you okay? S/n, if you’re alright, just answer!” Your engineer’s panicked voice echoed through the radio just as your car crashed into the tire barrier.

Everything happened in a blur. You had been fighting for the lead on the final lap against Charles Leclerc, and suddenly, you were struggling against your aching body to get out of your wrecked car.

“I’m fine. Just sore, but I’m fine,” you responded firmly as you stepped out of the cockpit.

Adrenaline still coursed through your veins. You kicked the car hard before shrugging it off, trying to calm yourself. The medical team rushed over, but you simply nodded and got into the rescue vehicle, removing your helmet and letting out a long sigh.

Back at the garage, you waved briefly at your trainer and went straight to your private room.

You threw your helmet into a random corner, kicked the couch, and collapsed onto it. The TV in the room replayed the crash. Anger boiled inside you. Without thinking, you got up and stormed back to the garage, determined.

“Do you have any idea what you just did, S/n?! You could have been seriously hurt… or worse!” Your PR manager, Adele, exclaimed as soon as she saw you walk in. Your trainer, Steve, and your public relations assistant, Bree, rushed to you.

You looked down at your race suit, still covered in dust. You brushed it off lightly, but nothing could erase the bitter taste of defeat burning in your throat.

“That clueless idiot is entirely to blame! He threw me into the wall on purpose! Did you see how he closed that corner?! Asshole.” Your voice dripped with indignation.

Steve and Bree immediately agreed, but Adele sighed, running a hand down her face.

“S/n, you can’t afford to lose your head over him. The media is already waiting outside, and I can guarantee they won’t go easy on you,” Bree warned, her voice calm.

You huffed, closing your eyes for a moment before facing them.

“Sorry, guys. But this time, I won’t stay quiet.”

The paddock sweltered under the scorching sun, and the sound of cameras clicking was deafening. You adjusted your team cap, trying to hide the simmering rage.

In front of you, a journalist held out a microphone with a smug smile.

“So, S/n… Do you think that crash was due to incompetence or inexperience?”

Your jaw tightened, but the journalist continued, not even bothering to mask his sarcasm.

“I mean, a lot of people were already questioning your place in Formula 1. Isn’t it obvious now that this sport just isn’t for you?”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your anger in check. But before you could respond, a firm voice cut through the air:

“Excuse me, are you planning to ask serious questions and act like a professional, or are you just going to keep up this ridiculous circus?”

You turned to see Max Verstappen standing beside you, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

The journalist tried to laugh, taken aback, but Max didn’t back down.

“If any other driver had crashed, you’d be analyzing the data, not mocking them. But of course, it’s easier to tear down a woman than admit she has talent.”

A lump formed in your throat—not from weakness, but from gratitude.

“If you want to talk about who deserves to be in Formula 1, start by actually analyzing things properly. But I suppose real journalism is too hard for you,” Max finished, pulling you away from the journalist, who stood speechless.

When the interviews finally ended, you leaned against a wall near the exit.

“Thanks, Max. I don’t think I’ve ever been at a loss for words before.”

He smirked.

“It’s alright, S/n. Look, I know what it’s like to be criticized. Not like you, of course. It must be even harder for you… Society is still so sexist. But you’re strong. You’ll get through this.”

He draped an arm over your shoulder.

“And since I was so nice, how about you buy me an ice cream?”

You laughed, finally feeling some of the pressure and anger fade away.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

( . . . )

Just minutes after you left, the same journalist who had humiliated you was now grinning at Charles—the one responsible for your crash and disqualification. The contrast was brutal.

“Charles, what a race! You mastered the corners brilliantly and proved once again why you’re one of the best on the grid. How does it feel to be such an inspiration to aspiring drivers?”

S/n watched the broadcast while picking up her ice cream. Max had been smiling at you, but as soon as he saw your expression, his own smile faded. Your muscles had already tensed in anger. The way Charles smiled and basked in the praise made your blood boil.

“Well, I think some drivers need to understand track limits better. But… it’s all part of the learning process, right?” Charles spoke modestly, but his tone carried clear provocation.

You felt your entire body tremble. How dare he act like a hero after what he had done?

Max, standing beside you, whispered:

“S/n, don’t do anything. This is exactly what he wants.”

He gripped your arm, worried about what you might do next, and pulled you away from the shop.

You took a deep breath, but every word from that reporter felt like a knife sinking deeper into your skin.

Minutes later, Charles approached you in the corridors, hands in his pockets, wearing a smug grin.

“Are you okay, princess? That was quite the accident… Shame you couldn’t keep the car under control.”

S/n clenched her jaw, fists tightening. Every fiber of her being screamed to punch him right there.

But she held her ground, her voice a cold, sharp blade.

“Careful, Charles. Because when I win, there won’t be any excuses left to save you.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving him speechless.

When you reached your motorhome, Adele was waiting for you, pacing back and forth.

“Hey, Adele! What happened—” Before you could finish speaking, she pulled out her phone and showed you a news article.

“S/n under suspicion: FIA investigates possible data manipulation in the rookie driver’s car.”

Your eyes scanned the words, your heart pounding. A lump formed in your throat. It was a lie. A dirty, planned lie…

You felt your fingers trembling.

Lando came up behind you and read the headline over your shoulder.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Lando said, frowning. You jumped at his sudden presence and immediately turned to face him.

“They want me out of the game,” you murmured, pure anger in your voice.

You walked into the motorhome and threw yourself onto the couch, running a hand over your face, exhausted from all the accusations.

( . . . )

Two weeks had passed since your confrontation with Charles, and finally, it was another race weekend. You smiled as soon as you stepped into the paddock—nothing could shake you here.

Everything was perfect. You were in a great mood, and everything felt in perfect harmony.

As you made your way to your team’s garage, you suddenly felt someone grab your arm before you could step inside.

You stumbled, but someone caught you. Looking up, you saw Lando, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Lando! What happened? Why did you drag me here?” you asked, laughing at his reaction.

The worried expression on his face made your heart skip a beat.

“S/n, did you check social media today?” Lando asked, and you shook your head.

“No, why?” You asked, looking at the phone in his hand.

Frowning, you grabbed the phone, your eyes darting over the bold headline on the sports website:

“SCANDAL IN FORMULA 1: S/N INVOLVED IN AFFAIR WITH COMMITTED TEAMMATE”

“Internal team sources reveal that rookie driver S/n isn’t just trying to make a name for herself on the track but also off of it. According to exclusive reports, S/n has allegedly been having an affair with her teammate while he was still in a relationship with his now ex-girlfriend, who is pregnant!

The secret relationship has supposedly caused numerous arguments within the team, with rumors that tensions in the garage became unbearable after a confrontation between the ex-girlfriend and S/n. Some team members, speaking anonymously, claim that the driver’s performance has been questioned because she has allegedly been receiving internal favors to keep her seat.

Moreover, speculation has arisen that her closeness with her teammate may be influencing certain strategic decisions in her favor, raising doubts about the legitimacy of her season results.

The FIA has yet to comment on the matter, but the negative backlash is growing on social media. Has S/n used Formula 1 not only to prove her skills but also to climb the ranks through scandal?”

“WHAT?!” you shouted, and Lando quickly covered your mouth.

You felt your blood boiling in your veins. Your heart was beating so fast it echoed in your ears. You reread every sentence, every disgusting lie, and the anger inside you grew into a suffocating knot in your throat.

“This is absurd,” your best friend said in a low but furious voice. You looked at him in desperation, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body shaking with fear.

“What kind of sick joke is this, Lando?” You stared at the phone in your hand. “Who would have the audacity to make this up?! How the hell am I ‘influencing strategic decisions’ when they barely trust me to change my tires at the pit stop?” Your voice was low, but Lando looked at you worriedly, already knowing you well enough to see that you were on the verge of an outburst.

“Whoever did this wants to destroy you, no matter what. First, that ridiculous accusation about the car’s data, and now this?” Lando leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair.

“And the worst part is that people are going to believe it!” you said, deadly serious but clearly terrified.

“S/n, I know you want to explode right now, but we need to think about what to do. They want to destabilize you.” Lando spoke, and silence fell over the place. You weren’t just angry anymore—you were sad, upset. You wanted to cry.

You took a deep breath, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough air. Your eyes returned to the phone, where the article was already going viral. In the comments, a flood of toxic messages appeared:

“Knew she wasn’t actually talented.”

“Women in F1 always end up making headlines for the wrong reasons.”

“Of course, it had to be a woman. Getting ahead the easy way.”

“Shame on the sport. Who’s protecting her?”

That was the final straw for you.

Your chest ached. Not from weakness, but from a deep sadness that made your body tremble.

Lando noticed.

“This isn’t just about destabilizing me, Lando! This is a direct attack on my reputation! They’re basically saying I’m only here because I slept with someone?! This is disgusting!” Your voice cracked, and tears started streaming down your face. You had never broken down like this in front of anyone. Your legs gave out, and Lando noticed, rushing toward you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“You can’t let them win, S/n. You’re not alone, okay?” Lando murmured, running a hand through your hair.

“Why, Lando? Why do they hate me so much? I never did anything to these… assholes, I swear! I may be explosive, but what did I ever do to them?” you sobbed, your voice failing. Your best friend was always there for you, and you were grateful for that.

( . . . )

“What the hell is this!?” Max bursts out, furious, as he storms into the meeting room where you, the team leader, and the PR team are gathered.

You still felt the sadness burning inside you when the door swung open forcefully. Your teammate, Max, rushed in, his eyes blazing with indignation. Right behind him, Kelly, his girlfriend, clutched her phone tightly, as if ready to smash it.

“Oh, so you saw the ridiculous nonsense they’re spreading too? Welcome to hell.” You sigh, your tone calm. Everyone stares at you, surprised. They expected you to be angry—or worse.

Max ran a hand through his hair, visibly upset.

“I saw it, and it’s unbelievable! Who has the audacity to make up something like this? I’m still with Kelly, and now they’re trying to turn this into a scandal?” Max says, sitting down beside you. Kelly joins him, and despite her frustration, she offers you a reassuring smile.

“This is so ridiculous it’s actually offensive! As if I would end a relationship over a stupid rumor!” Kelly says, clearly frustrated with the situation. She looks at you, her expression softening when she sees the emptiness in your eyes. “I know you would never do something like this. Just because you’re a woman working in a male-dominated field doesn’t mean you have to sleep with someone to earn your place. Whoever wrote this deserves to be sued.”

An unexpected tightness grips your chest. After everything you had endured that day, hearing Kelly defend you instead of accusing you was a relief you didn’t even know you needed.

You offer a small, tired smile and meet her gaze.

“Thank you for believing in me,” you whisper, and she smiles back.

“The problem was never you, S/n. The problem is people who refuse to accept that a woman can be great at what she does without relying on anyone,” Bree, your PR assistant, speaks up, and you let out a deep sigh.

Max nods in agreement.

“Exactly. They want to destroy S/n’s reputation because they know they can’t beat her on the track,” Max finally says after a long silence. He takes a deep breath, grabs his phone, and starts typing. “I’m shutting this down right now.”

Within seconds, his Instagram post is already going viral:

@maxverstappen: “Just to be clear: the rumors about S/n and me having any kind of romantic involvement are completely false. Kelly and I are together and doing great, and this attack on S/n is just another disgusting attempt to discredit her. Enough with the fake news. Respect the sport.”

Kelly follows suit, posting a story:

@kellypiquet: “Let’s get one thing straight: S/n has NEVER disrespected me or Max in any way. This story is just another example of how women in sports are attacked for no reason. Grow up.”

( . . . )

After the fake news scandal, you expected Charles Leclerc to use it against you, but to your surprise, he remained silent. No provocative comments, no sly remarks in interviews. He just watched you from a distance, as if analyzing your every reaction.

Charles truly didn’t feel comfortable mocking this kind of situation—not after everything he had witnessed.

Then, the day after the media chaos, when you were alone in the garage reviewing race data, he appeared beside you, casually leaning against the table.

“So… what’s it like being the most dangerous woman in Formula 1?” Charles asked sarcastically, but without the malice he once had.

You narrowed your eyes, already expecting a jab. You were used to his teasing.

“Listen, Charles,” you said, stepping closer, “if you’re here to make jokes, you can turn around and leave. I’m not in the mood.”

Charles crossed his arms, but his gaze lacked the arrogance it usually carried.

“Relax, hothead. I’m not here to fight. I just… wanted to see how you were holding up,” Charles said, scratching the back of his head. You hesitated for a moment, confused.

Charles was asking how you were?

“As if you care,” you spat, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

Charles shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie—I enjoy messing with you. But I know what it’s like to have the world call you a fraud.”

Your eyes widened, surprised by his admission.

“You? The media’s golden boy? Ferrari’s prodigy?” you mocked, and he rolled his eyes.

“The media chooses who to attack. Today, it’s you. Tomorrow, it could be anyone,” Charles said before walking away.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel immediate hatred for Leclerc.

( . . . )

After the false news spread, the journalists still hadn’t let go of S/n. Now, more than ever, she was the main target. During a team event, a persistent reporter started pressing her with loaded questions.

“S/n, do you think your involvement with Max could affect your career in the long run?”

The reporter’s words instantly irritated you.

“I’ve already said there was no involvement. That’s a lie.” You responded confidently, keeping your anger in check.

But he just smirked, still trying to provoke you.

“But rumors always have some truth to them, don’t they? Maybe it’s just a matter of admitting it…”

Before you could snap, Charles appeared by your side, resting a casual yet protective hand on your shoulder. You glanced at his hand, then at him, then back at his hand. You raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Interesting… you ask very specific questions for someone who has no proof of anything.” Charles stared directly at the reporter. The journalist hesitated, and Charles continued. “Formula 1 is a competitive sport, but it seems like you’d rather turn it into a cheap reality show.”

You were surprised. It was the first time Charles had publicly defended you or had any interaction beyond provoking you.

When the journalist finally gave up and walked away, you turned to him, suspicious.

“Okay… what was that?” You asked slowly, still looking at his hand on your shoulder. Charles pulled it away, made a face, and wiped it on his clothes.

He shrugged.

“You already have enough problems. You don’t need an idiot like that making it worse.”

You stared at him, trying to figure him out.

“You hate me. Why are you helping me?”

Charles held your gaze a second longer than necessary before smirking.

“Who said I hate you?” He said and then walked away, leaving you more confused than ever.

( . . . )

After Charles’ unexpected defense, the dynamic between the two of you became dangerous territory. You started noticing how often he was around—sometimes teasing, sometimes protective, but always testing your limits.

Then, during another press conference, Charles defended you again. Lando and Max exchanged glances before looking at you, waiting for your reaction. You stared, mouth slightly open, completely lost. You turned to Lando and murmured:

“What was that?”

Lando just shrugged, looking even more confused than you.

That really sent some intrusive thoughts your way.

At the paddock gym? He was there, running on the treadmill next to you.

In team briefings? He made a point to sit close and throw in snide remarks.

At sponsor events? He joked about how you had to smile for journalists who clearly hated you.

And the worst part? He never crossed a certain line.

One night, after a mandatory team dinner, you were walking back to the hotel when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned abruptly—there he was, hands in his pockets, walking casually as if it was nothing.

“Are you following me now?” You rolled your eyes.

Charles gave you a slow smirk, completely unfazed by the accusation.

“Relax, hothead. I’m not that obsessed with you. We’re just heading to the same place.”

He said it so casually, making sure to emphasize the nickname he had given you, something he always did when you were alone.

You crossed your arms, suspicious.

“Right. And you just happen to always be where I am lately? And what’s with that nickname?”

Your arguments didn’t bother him one bit—unlike you, who desperately wanted answers.

He shrugged.

“Coincidence. Or maybe I just like seeing you get worked up.” He clicked his tongue. “And the nickname? It’s just a fact. You’re really stressed all the time, S/n.”

You narrowed your eyes. You wanted to hate him completely, but something about his calm, teasing demeanor made your blood boil in a different way.

And the nickname? He wasn’t wrong.

So you turned on your heel, walking briskly toward your room.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to be around him.

That was it.

Avoid him. You told yourself.

[weirdsht]

Hi, can i request a fanfic of cale with a reader who used to be a popular kpop idol like aespa before she transmigrated?

Shining Star - LoTCF & Reader

a/n: pls be proud of me I managed to resist the urge to make it super angtsy (because we would've been here for +5 more pages) also I couldn't help but take the chance to do a Debut or Die inspired fic after seeing the req lol

tags: Cale/Reader, romance but it's subtle, there's an entire romantic subplot going on if you squint, trust me guys there's romance huhu idol! reader, reader's gender is not specified, open ending

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Requests are open and welcome

Navigation Masterlist

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! GO TO RAIN CITY OR DIE]

[You will die in a year unless you get to Rain City in time]

The first time you saw the translucent, floating blue screen in front of you, you almost screamed bloody murder. Why was this happening to you? Sure, you read trashy transmigration and system novels in your spare time, but you never asked to be in one.

You were happy being an idol thank you very much.

Sure it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. Fainting before and after performances, losing sleep, fighting with your groupmates, taking jobs you don’t really want to do, having to say things for PR purposes, losing friends and family, dealing with stalkers, and so many more things. Those things were not fun in the slightest. In fact, you find yourself questioning your life in the shower more times than you can count.

But still, it was a life you chose for yourself.

Performing in front of a crowd, writing songs, producing beats, hearing your fans’ heartfelt admiration, and seeing little kids look up to you as their role model.

You reveled in those, strived to do better day by day because of those reasons.

Now though everything is ripped away from you. Thrown away in the sand and washed away by the waves as if such life never happened.

Now the only thing waiting for you is this stupid status window and a world that isn’t even based on the last novel you read.

So much for cliches right?

Having no choice left you strive to complete the mission. Gathered information about the world you are in and how you should navigate your way to Rain City. 

And wouldn’t you know it… you’re a continent away from the goddamn destination.

Not only that but said city is also hard to travel to once you get to the Roan Kingdom.

Still, you persisted. If there’s anything you’re good at it’s persevering through the toughest of circumstances.

You wouldn’t be an established idol if you weren’t.

And so after months of travelling, you set foot in Rain City.

Well… describing it as just months of travelling is a great understatement. You desperately wish you just hopped on a boat and waiting the days to go by then suddenly you’re in Roan Kingdom.

No, no, it couldn’t be like that. That would be too boring.

First, you had to figure out where to get the money to travel. Being an idol helped with this one because, although it may be a fantasy world, your money-making skills still come in handy.

Then once you had some decent money it was either making a fake identity or skirting around the law to the best of your abilities. You may have experienced many side gigs as an idol but being a felon isn’t one of them, so a fake identity it is.

Don’t even mention the danger in your travels. If you’re not trying to run away from thugs you’re sneaking around so you don’t get caught up in the brewing war.

And these things don’t even begin to cover the surface of your odyssey.

However, it doesn’t matter because now you’re in Rain City and so finally you can get rid of this stupid status abnormality.

…right?

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! ENTER THE HENITUSE HOUSE OR DIE]

Yeah, tough luck…

One mission after the last. The cycle goes on…

And on

And on 

And on

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! GAIN CALE HENITUSE’S TRUST OR DIE]

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! ACQUIRE AN ANCIENT POWER OR DIE]

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! GAIN RON MOLAN’S TRUST OR DIE]

You can't see the end of it. No matter what you do it's as if they never end.

If you were the you before you would've ignored it.

If you were the you before you probably would have given up.

You may be one tough cookie but everyone has their limits, right?

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! PROTECT THE PLAZA OR DIE]

If it was you before you would've grown tired by now.

So why haven't you?

Why do you still push yourself? Play tag with death as if you're immortal.

It's comedic in a way. Pushing yourself to death to complete a mission whose main reward is not getting instant death.

So why do you?

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! BALANCE CALE’S PLATE OR DIE]

Him

He's the reason why.

The reason why you push yourself.

The person who motivated you time and time again. Despite the irony of him not wanting to do anything, he motivates you to do what you can. Push beyond your limits to help those in need. 

And the reason?

Simple

It's because you love him.

You love what he stands for.

And so you continue to do your best to help him achieve his goals.

It doesn't matter how many missions this stupid system throws your way. As long as it doesn't hinder your goals — Cale’s goals — you're willing to complete it.

Anything to stay by your beloved’s side.

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! WIN THE WAR OR DIE]

And so you push

And push

And push 

And push 

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! GAIN A GOD’S BLESSING OR DIE]

Be it coughing blood or fainting for a week, you continue to get up.

Until you couldn't anymore.

Until you are forced to a dead end.

Not because the task is impossible. Not because you don't have the means to complete it.

Quite the opposite actually. All it takes is asking your beloved a simple question and it will be completed.

You already know he's more than just the man he presents himself to be. You're not an idiot to believe that suddenly one day the drunkard noble son has sobered up and gathered his wits. 

Still, you ignored it. Acted unaware of the most blatant signs of lying.

Because if he is what you think he is then you know how hurtful it would be for the people around him.

What would be his family's reaction? Ron? Beacrox? All the people who thought he was still the same Cale they've known through the years.

You wouldn't want such fallout to happen.

You wouldn't dare tear apart the meaningful bonds your beloved had built with these wonderful people.

[STATUS ABNORMALITY! SHARE CALE HENITUSE'S REAL IDENTITY WITH AT LEAST ONE PERSON OR DIE]

[Complete these missions or die:

2. Share this identity with at least one other person.]

1. Uncover Cale Henituse's real identity 

And so this mission has become your dead end. 

For you would rather die than dim Cale Henituse’s light.

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 128 days 18:36:03]

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 128 days 18:36:02]

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 128 days 18:36:01]

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 128 days 18:36:00]

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 128 days 18:35:59]

Just a small fun fact: the days remaining is KRS' (and CJS') bday. Meanwhile, the time remaining is Cale and KRS' age when the transmigration happen.

[andypantsx3]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

bakugou writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

incendiary (30K) : complete

When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

you’re the one that i haunt (15K) : complete

Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.

statistically significant (24K) : complete

You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

cover shot (through the heart) (16.5K) : complete

For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

war paint (28K) : complete

Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (A Mulan AU)

savvy (17.5K) : complete

You’re a business course third year who’s good at being bossy, organized, and data-driven. You just want to use your business savvy to help all heroes. Well, all heroes except one. [smutty one shot follow on: defiant]

barbarian-verse au (various) : in progress

You find yourself traveling with barbarian Bakugou. Things get complicated quickly.

ONE SHOTS

filling in (8.2K) - gn!reader

A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki. 

fruit first (ask questions later) (3.6K) - gn!reader

When the grocery store you’re in becomes collateral in a villain attack, pro hero Dynamight comes to your rescue. When you become armed with a handful of oranges, however, someone may need to come to his rescue…

abs-olutely worth it (3.5K) - gn!reader

You’re an amateur hero photographer whose shots of Bakugou’s abs keep going viral. Everything is going great…until Bakugou catches wind of it.

defiant (4.5K)

There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place. Katsuki, however, has other ideas. [a smutty oneshot companion to savvy; you do not need to have read savvy first!]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

general bakugou x princess reader (1.1K) -> part two (3.2K)

Your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry. There is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne.

always (1.5K)

Best friend Bakugou helps you through a breakup.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

destruction (1.6K)

"Are you this stupid on purpose?"

wine & dine (0.3K)

“Oh my god, I am gonna fuck whoever made this apple pie so hard they see stars for weeks.”

always first (0.7K)

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling."

just can’t weight (0.8K)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" + gym bro Bakugou

personal chef (0.4K)

Living with Bakugou is like living with your own personal chef.

fan art (0.2K)

Bakugou has an embarrassing secret (ft super cute art from Merms!!)

[theunsinkableship1]

In response to @lillforpolin

Thank you for your measured tone and for taking the time to share your perspective. I appreciate the opportunity for respectful dialogue, and I’ll do my best to respond in kind.

First, I’d like to clarify that this space is not centered on blind adoration for either Nicola or Luke as individuals. In fact, my investment here stems not from a belief in their infallibility or an assumption of their moral superiority but from an admiration for the unique and genuine connection I perceive between them a bond that transcends mere professional camaraderie.

You mentioned women "adoring" a man. I want to make it clear that I don’t "adore" Luke or Nicola in a personal capacity. I respect their talent as actors and appreciate the qualities others, including cast and crew, have attributed to them such as Luke’s thoughtfulness and kindness and Nicola’s wit and professionalism. However, my engagement here isn’t about elevating either of them as individuals. Rather, it’s about supporting what I believe to be a rare and extraordinary bond between two people. This distinction is key.

I also do not believe either of them to be liars, though I acknowledge I could be mistaken. My belief in their authenticity is grounded in the consistent way they have been praised by colleagues and their own behavior. I trust that neither of them would intentionally “hard launch” a relationship in a way that would be disrespectful or hurtful, especially during a premiere, nor would they defend someone publicly who had behaved inappropriately. If I believed they were guilty of either, I would not be here.

You suggest that my presence here demonstrates support for problematic behavior on Luke’s part. I must respectfully disagree. The interpretation of the so-called “launch” during the premiere is not universally agreed upon. From my perspective, the situation is not as definitive as you suggest, and therefore, any judgment is premature.

If this act was indeed intended as you perceive it a deliberate public distraction on such an important night it could be concerning. With a background in PR, I can understand why this situation might be perceived as a misstep. However, precisely because of that perspective, I find it highly unlikely that this unfolded as part of any deliberate plan on his part. The nuances of public image management make such a scenario seem implausible, particularly given the potential for unintended backlash. Based on my understanding of Luke and Nicola’s dynamic, as well as the broader context, I see no compelling evidence that this was the case. Instead, it seems to me that assumptions about their intentions are being conflated with established facts.

You state that this community is accessible in minutes, which is true, but it is also purposefully created for a specific purpose: to discuss and explore the perceived connection between Luke and Nicola. It is not a space to challenge that purpose or derail it entirely. There are countless platforms where one can critique public figures and their actions. Actively seeking out a niche space, designed for a particular focus, to criticize or dispute that focus can come across as intrusive.

As you pointed out, you wouldn’t enter private spaces to challenge others’ dreams, yet by engaging here, it feels like you are doing just that. The idea that one must address grievances where “it all happens” is understandable to a degree, but this is not a general public forum; I only use the hashtags Lukola and lukolaland, it is a community centered around a specific belief. There is space elsewhere for broader critiques of fandom behavior or public figures, and I encourage utilizing those instead.

You raise an important point about double standards in how public actions are judged depending on the gender of the individual. However, this isn’t the lens through which I view Luke and Nicola. My interest isn’t about defending one over the other or excusing problematic behavior based on gender. My focus is their shared dynamic, which I perceive as unique and worth celebrating.

Ultimately, I believe in approaching this situation with humility. I don’t know the full truth none of us do. That’s why I refrain from declaring certainty about their personal lives. What I support here is not an uncritical endorsement of everything they do but rather a belief in their connection as something rare and special.

I encourage everyone, myself included, to remain respectful and grounded in discussions like this. If you find this community or its focus incompatible with your beliefs, there are many other spaces better suited for broader discussions or critiques. This space was not designed for universal agreement, but it does have a specific purpose, and I believe it’s important to honor that.

Thank you for engaging thoughtfully, and I hope this response clarifies my position.

I apologize if I wasn’t brief, but I hope my message was clear.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

III who is best friends with reader and blatantly hates her now-ex because he was a piece of work :] (i regret dating my ex help)

May end with III and Reader drunk and making out. Add onto this idea if you'd like!!

First choice

iii never liked him. From the moment you introduced them, he hated the guy. So did he squeeze his hand just a bit harder while they shook hands? Yes. Did he ask a stupid question on purpose? Yes. And did his stare promise death? Yes, it did. “Can you behave?”, you had hissed at him a while picking up extra cutlery. “Haven’t killed the idiot so I think I��m behaving just fine”, iii had shrugged, making you let out a grunt as you went back into the dining room.

And quite frankly his suspicions had started to unfold not even after a month of you two being together. From missed dates to ghosted text. To fight each day. iii was a patient man he was listed to you talk about this over and over again. Suppressing the urge to punch the fucker next time he saw him. But it’s a random Friday, he’s been stuck in a studio for hours. Lost in music, when the door opens.

As if by a natural pull his head snaps up. His gut turned at the sight of your bloodshot eyes. The guitar is off his shoulders in seconds as he moves to the side, dogging Ivy as he moves towards the door. “Hey”, he manages to mutter before your eyes meet his and it’s like the final straw snaps. The sob that leaves your lips even with a hand clapped over your mouth is heartbreaking. iii puls you in, one hand cupping the back of your head. His jaw tenses as he feels you bunching up his shirt in your tiny palms as you pull him closer. “I’ve got you”, he mutters, “just breathe with me”.

He’s hyper-aware of everything, the fact that the boys stopped playing. He can feel their eyes burning holes in his back. He can feel how unevenly your heart is beating. The little tremble in your hands. “Come on, I will grab my stuff and we’ll leave”, leaning in he pressed a kiss to your head. “Can you go wait in the car?” He squeezes your shoulder looking down at you. You just nod, taking his car keys from him. Letting go is so hard and he’s left staring at the door for a moment. “iii”, it’s vessel’s voice that pulls him out. “I have it under control”, he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Head on your shoulders, mate”, ii says calmly, but iii wasn’t listening as he ducked through the door.

Now hours later his shirt was drenched from tears. Your body was pressed against his as iii slowly ran his fingers through your hair. “I don’t get it”, you muttered for what felt like a thousand time. iii let his eyes close for a heartbeat, “love, he’s the one who fucked up”, he said firmly, “wish I could give him peace of my mind”, “No, promise me you won’t do something stupid if you run into him”, you reached out grasping his hand. “Define stupid”, “iii”, you warned him. “I hate seeing you like this over some… stupid prick”, he grunted, wiping away yet another tear from your cheeks.

You just sighed, shaking your head slightly, “always wanted to be someone’s first choice”. iii watched you for a moment, “you are though”, he pointed out. “Not really no”, you shook your head. “To me you are, always been my first choice”, your head turned to him so fast your vision blurred for a moment, “what?”, you muttered. “Now is probably not the best…”, “iii”, you said a say, shaking your head. “I like you, thought it was quite obvious”, he muttered. “But you… I saw you with… the blonde”, you whispered. “Emily works for our pr, that’s why she was here a couple of times”, iii frowned slightly.

“I only went out with Ben because…”, you let your words trail off before your eyes moved back to iii. You fist his shirt once again, crashing your lips into his. It’s messy and desperate. Both riding a shock wave of it all. “Let…”, iii pulls away, breathlessly before leaning in for one more kiss, “let’s take this slow. Let me properly wine and dine you”, he mutters against your lips. “You don’t have to, I’ve known you for years”, you muse. “No, we are doing it the proper way”, iii argues back, “And I still might punch your ex”, “iii”, you grunt but he’s quick to shush you by brushing his lips over yours once more.

[ggukkiedae]

notes: WELCOME HOME HOBI! (dialogue written in italics are spoken in english)

setting: october 17, 2024

word count: 566

taglist: @sunflower-0180 @seaoffangirling @yourwonderbelle @1-800-enhypennabi @kamiiyou @strwberrydinosaur @uraveragefangirlsposts @caratinylyfe @1-800-minji @one16core @kimhyejin3108 @chansols @akshverse @toriluvsfics @billboard-singer @stopeatread @allthings-fandoms @jammingjaem drop an ask or a dm if you wanna be added or taken out of the taglist 🥰 requests are also open!

The atmosphere was tense in the best way.

Yoonmi kept looking out the van window, checking for the familiar figure she was waiting to see. The car shook slightly as she bounced her leg, fingers going up to tug at the ends of her hair.

“Geez,” Seokjin threw one leg over her lap and pulled her hands into one of his, “were you this jittery when I was discharged?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

A chuckle escaped him, “That’s such a PR answer.”

“As a Bangtan member in this media economy…” she trailed off, making both of them laugh.

As much as her eldest member was able to distract her for a bit, her attention almost immediately faded back to the gates she had purposely asked their manager to park in view of.

Having Seokjin back has been one of the best things to happen to her in 2024, especially with him visiting her on her tour and hosting her comeback live just last month. Now that she had finished the tour, the absence of the other six members was starting to fill her senses.

“Hey,” her companion’s smile was evident in his voice while his posture shifted to grab the giant bouquet next to him, “if you stop overthinking right now, you’ll notice a little someone coming.”

Her eyes widened as she turned to look out the window. A familiar smile made its way into her view, unconsciously making the corners of her lips curl up.

Hoseok had come out of the gates.

Before anyone could even process what was happening, Yoonmi had already slammed the car door open and practically teleported to Hoseok’s arms.

There was a small grunt that came from him as he held her up, wrapping her in a hug as well. 

She immediately buried her face into his chest, noting how much taller he felt due to his combat boots and her lack of platform shoes. “You’re home!”

“Almost, makdungie,” he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “I still have to say hi to Jin hyung and talk to the media first.”

“Get back here,” a third voice joined their conversation.

The confusion was obvious in her face as Seokjin grabbed her by the back of her hoodie, pulling her off of Hoseok, only for him to hug his first discharged younger brother.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Hoseok laughed as he hugged Seokjin, “and what are these flowers, hyung? They’re bigger than our makdungie!”

“Obviously I was going to get you something big,” Seokjin scoffed.

“Alright, alright,” Hoseok smiled at his eldest and his youngest member, “let me address the media, then we can get out of here.”

Yoonmi watched in pride as Hoseok confidently addressed the media (and with amusement at Seokjin’s antics) before being caught off guard by the prior turning to look at her.

“Also, before I end, I need to do this.” His posture immediately straightened, Seokjin stretching his arms up further to accommodate the younger member who sharply raised his fingertips to his brow. “Sergeant Jung Ho Seok reporting the successful completion of his compulsory military enlistment to Bang Yoonmi, otherwise known as Kim Yoonmi.” 

A gentle smile made its way to her face, mirroring his. “You’re home.”

He looked at her, sharply bringing his hand back down before relaxing his posture.

“I’m home.”

(there were articles the next day about jin's amusing reaction of being fake annoyed that he didn't have a similar emotional moment with hobi and his appalled face upon realizing miya was riding in hobi's car rather than with him)

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff; crash

Masterlist

CHAPTER 9

As Lando prepares for his first race back in the car since the accident, the atmosphere is charged with anticipation and excitement. The British Grand Prix, his home race, adds an extra layer of significance to the occasion. The energy in the air is palpable as the fans, eager to witness their local hero back on the track, fill the grandstands with cheers and banners.

Lando's determination is a beacon, shining brighter than ever. The challenges and uncertainties that followed the accident have only fueled his resilience. The sight of his McLaren gleaming on the grid ignites a fire within him, a renewed sense of purpose that transcends the ordinary pursuit of victory.

The moments before the race are a flurry of activity. The team works meticulously to ensure the car is in optimal condition, every detail scrutinised to maximise performance. Lando, surrounded by the familiar faces of his dedicated crew, shares nods and words of encouragement. The camaraderie is evident as everyone rallies behind their driver, each person in the McLaren garage contributing to the collective aspiration of victory.

“Welcome back, Lando. You gave us quite the scare back in Monaco, but we’re pleased to see you back and smiling. How are you doing?”The interviewer asks.

“I’m feeling great. My body’s healed up nicely. I’m very thankful to everyone who played a part in my recovery, it’s not every day that something like that happens, but everyone did their best and I appreciate that.” Lando comments, his gratitude evident in his voice and smile.

“What’s your headspace like heading into your home race this weekend?” The interviewer continues.

“It’s a positive headspace. I kind of try to forget about the last few weeks, it was beyond anyone’s control, so heading into this week, it’s pretty much back to normal. I love racing on this track, and it’s home, so that helps.” Lando concludes before returning to the McLaren garage.

Upon Lando's return to the garage, a sense of normalcy returns as he seamlessly transitions into the routine of a race weekend. Without missing a beat, he joins Natalie, and together they delve into the intricacies of his race weekend schedule. The professional camaraderie takes precedence, temporarily overshadowing the nuances of their romantic relationship within the confines of the work environment.

In the controlled chaos of the garage, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the focused energy of the McLaren team, Lando and Natalie synchronise their efforts. Their interactions are marked by efficiency, communication, and a shared commitment to the tasks at hand. The dynamics between them shift seamlessly from the personal to the professional, a testament to their ability to compartmentalise and navigate the complexities of their dual roles.

“Lando.” Adam's voice rings out from behind him and Natalie as they sieve through his social media content for the race weekend. “I need to chat with you.”

Lando, sensing the urgency in his father's tone, follows him to his driver's room. As they enter, Adam shuts the door, creating a private space where their conversation can unfold without the prying ears of the bustling garage.

“What's wrong?” Lando immediately asks, sensing the gravity in his father's tone.

“We've finally found him.” Adam informs his son, the weight of the revelation evident in his expression.

“Who? What are you talking about?” Lando questions, his confusion etched across his face. In response, Adam pulls out his phone, showing Lando a photo of a man in a club.

"Is this him?" Lando asks, scrutinising the image on the phone.

The air in the room becomes charged with anticipation as the pieces of an undisclosed puzzle start to fall into place. The photograph holds a significance that raises more questions than answers, setting the stage for a revelation that could potentially reshape the course of their conversation.

“It seems like the barman spiked her soda at the club that night. She had one drink from what I could tell, and he was the one who handed it to her. She kept her drink covered the entire time, so the only time someone had access to spiking it was before she received it.” Adam explains, referencing the night in Shanghai when Natalie was drugged and assaulted.

The room tightens with tension as the implications of Adam's discovery sink in.

“But, why? He doesn't know her, does he?” Lando continues to prod, seeking to understand the motive behind such a malicious act.

“I had a friend of a friend go by the club and speak to him. And, you'll never believe what we found.” Adam explains, swiping to reveal a photo of Lucas, Natalie's ex-boyfriend.

“No way," Lando seethes, his disbelief and anger evident.

The revelation hits close to home, and the betrayal is twofold—first by the barman, and now by someone Natalie once trusted intimately. The shock and frustration emanating from Lando reflect the emotional turmoil of discovering that someone from Natalie's past could be involved in such a reprehensible act.

“He came in the day before, apparently he knew where she would be going, paid the barman a hefty amount to spike her drink. We suspect he has some hidden app on her phone so he can see exactly what she’s doing, when, and with whom. I’ll need to get her phone cleaned. Lando, Lucas was there that night in the club. I also got a different camera angle from the opposite side of the club and it clearly shows him watching her, approaching her, and then dancing up behind her. She spins around and immediately hurries away, likely to the bathroom where she called you from. There weren’t any cameras there for us to see if he followed her again, but he just disappeared.” Adam details.

The revelation unfolds with a chilling precision, exposing the orchestrated cruelty behind Natalie's assault. The calculated actions of Lucas, manipulating the situation and exploiting intimate knowledge of Natalie's whereabouts, paint a disturbing picture of betrayal and malice.

“He's insane. He's literally insane. He claimed to love her. Who does that to someone they supposedly love?” Lando argues, his anger palpable, a storm brewing within him that his father has never witnessed before.

“Son, it gets worse.” Adam adds gravely. “He has a paddock pass this weekend.”

“No fucking way.” Lando grunts, the shock and disbelief evident in his voice.

The sanctuary of the racing world, meant for competition, suddenly feels tainted by the presence of an ominous figure from Natalie's past.

“We'll do what we can to protect her, but she's bound to run into him at some point.” Adam replies, acknowledging the imminent threat that hovers over Natalie's safety.

“Please, Dad, don't tell her. I don't want her stressing about this, with everything the last few weeks, she's had enough to deal with as is.” Lando urges his father, his concern for Natalie's well-being overriding any desire for immediate confrontation.

“Of course.” Adam agrees. “But, we'll have to think of a way to keep her safe. If he can drug her that easily, who knows what he can do here. She's by herself most of the time.”

“I'll think of something.” Lando mumbles before a knock on the door interrupts them, signalling an intrusion into the private space where they grapple with the unsettling reality that has unfolded.

The impending challenge of ensuring Natalie's safety in the paddock adds a layer of complexity to an already emotionally charged race weekend.

"Sorry, I hate to bother. Lando, we need to finalise your content, please," Natalie sheepishly explains her intrusion as she pops her head into the room.

The transition from the weighty conversation to the demands of the race weekend is abrupt, but Natalie's professional demeanour glosses over any traces of the private matters being discussed behind closed doors. The racing world, with its relentless pace, demands a swift return to the immediate tasks at hand, and Natalie, aware of the intricacies involved, seamlessly switches gears. Lando, while grappling with the recent revelations, acknowledges the necessity to refocus on the upcoming race.

“Of course, let me be out of your hair.” Adam quickly excuses himself, sensing the need for privacy between Lando and Natalie.

“Everything OK?” She asks Lando, her concern evident in her gaze.

“Yeah, all good.” Lando lies, attempting to shield her from the weight of the recent revelations. However, the internal conflict is palpable, and he hesitates before admitting, “Actually, no.”

“What do you mean?” She asks, her confusion deepening as she senses a shift in the atmosphere of the room. The veneer of normalcy cracks, revealing a layer of unspoken tension that lingers between them. Natalie, attuned to Lando's emotions, waits for him to unravel the truth.

“I may or may not have tracked down the guy who drugged and assaulted you in China, with my Dad’s help, of course.” Lando admits.

“You did what?” Natalie exclaims, her surprise and shock evident. “Why would you do that?”

“I needed to know who it was, Nattie. He could have really hurt you.” Lando explains, his concern for Natalie evident in his words.

“So, who is he?” Natalie quickly asks, seeking an answer. The urgency in her voice reflects the immediate need to understand the identity of the person responsible for the traumatic incident in Shanghai.

“I don’t have a name.” He lies. “I just know that he’s been spotted in the UK in the last few days.”

“This is actually crazy right now.” She breathes, her heart racing.

The revelation adds another layer of complexity to the situation, leaving Natalie in a state of uncertainty and unease. The lack of a definitive name amplifies the mystery surrounding the person who orchestrated the assault, and the proximity of the threat raises the stakes for both of them.

“Please, Nattie, I’m asking you nicely, please do not do anything by yourself this weekend, even in the paddock.” Lando begs her.

“You don’t think he’ll be in the paddock.” She shakes her head in denial.

“I don’t know, but I cannot risk you getting hurt.” Lando tells her as he pulls her closer to him. “Please promise me you’ll have someone from the team with you at all times, just for this weekend while we figure out what to do about him.”

“Why did you do this?” She quips, her brain digesting the fact that he had purposely sought her assailant.

“I can’t let someone get away with hurting you.” He half explains.

“Yeah, sure, but that’s a lot of effort.” She shyly responds.

“I told you I can’t lose you. Hand-in-hand with that goes a promise to protect you, to the best of my ability. Let me do that. Let me protect you and keep you safe.” He finally admits. “No matter the amount of effort, or the time, or the distance - I will do what I can to keep you safe.”

The vulnerability in Lando's plea cuts through the complex emotions of the moment. The admission of his commitment to her safety, despite the challenges and uncertainties, unveils a depth of care that transcends the boundaries of their public personas. In this intimate moment, their connection strengthens, grounded in a shared understanding of the need for protection and support.

The weight of his words hangs in the air, a testament to the sincerity and depth of Lando's feelings. The realisation that he went to such lengths, confronting a potentially dangerous individual, solely to ensure her safety, leaves Natalie with a mix of emotions—gratitude, awe, and a growing awareness of the depth of their connection.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding them, Lando's unwavering commitment to her well-being becomes a beacon of support. The paddock, usually filled with the noise of race preparations, momentarily fades into the background as the significance of their shared moment takes centre stage.

“I feel like I should write that down.” He jokes.

“Why, so I can read it when I don’t believe you?” Natalie jokes back.

“No, so I can use it in my vows one day.” He responds, causing her to smack his arm.

The banter lightens the atmosphere, injecting a moment of humour into the seriousness of their conversation

“Please, just have someone with you this weekend, especially when I’m not by your side.” He reiterates.

“I promise.” She finally agrees as she hugs him tightly.

In the midst of the racing world's intensity, their love story unfolds, marked by the unconventional backdrop of pit stops, podiums, and paddocks. Lando, with his passion for speed and the vibrant papaya colours associated with McLaren, becomes the unexpected protagonist in the romance she never saw coming. His gestures of care, protection, and understanding create a narrative that transcends the confines of a typical love story.

As the engines roar on the racetrack, so too does the beating of her heart for the man who not only races with fervour but also loves with a depth that surpasses the confines of the fast-paced world they inhabit.

- LATER THAT DAY DURING THE RACE -

A missed call from her mom causes panic to hit Natalie in the middle of the race. She knows her mom wouldn't call her at work unless it was an absolute emergency. She rushes out of the garage, leaving behind the sounds of roaring engines and the intensity of the race. The paddock, filled with people moving up and down past the garages, becomes a maze of anxious anticipation as she presses the phone to her ear.

“Hi, Mamma. You were looking for me?” Natalie speaks into her phone, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

“Sorry, my love, it was an accident. I wanted to message you and ended up calling you instead.” Her mom sweetly explains.

“That’s OK. I just thought-” Her sentence is cut short when she spots a familiar face further down the paddock.

“Honey, are you there?” Her mom asks.

“I’m here. I have to go, though. I’ll call you after the race, OK?” Natalie quickly speaks before hanging up.

With all the people around, she had drifted a distance away from the entrance to the McLaren paddock. The paddock, a buzzing hive of activity with team members, journalists, and fans, proved to be a labyrinth of twists and turns. In the midst of the race excitement, Natalie had momentarily strayed from the familiar path, drawn by the urgency of the call from her mom.

As she hangs up the phone and takes a quick scan of her surroundings, a sense of disorientation kicks in. Racing against time to retrace her steps, she turns to see where Lucas might be but couldn't spot him amid the crowd. Panic sets in, and her steps quicken as she rushes back towards the garage. The familiar sights and sounds of the paddock become a blur as she navigates the human maze, desperate to reach the safety of the familiar McLaren territory.

Frantic and without anyone by her side, as Lando had pleaded with her, Natalie finds herself caught in a moment of vulnerability. The realisation dawns upon her—Lando knew it had been Lucas and deliberately withheld the information. The protective instinct in Lando's actions becomes clear. He chose not to disclose the identity of the person who had caused her distress, perhaps to shield her from the heightened anxiety that such knowledge might induce.

In the midst of the racing world's chaos, Natalie grapples with the conflicting emotions of gratitude for Lando's protective gesture and the realisation that there are elements of her past that still hold the power to disrupt her present. As she hurries back to the garage, the intensity of the race is momentarily eclipsed by the personal turmoil unravelling in the paddock.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Where’s Natalie?” Lando yells as he celebrates with his team on a P2 finish in the British GP.

“No idea.” Zak yells back as the crowd keeps growing louder.

The jubilation of the race result echoes through the paddock, but Lando's elation is tinged with concern for Natalie's whereabouts. Amidst the cheers and the team's celebratory atmosphere, her absence becomes a noticeable void.

The thrill of the podium finish momentarily takes a back seat to Lando's growing unease. The question about Natalie's location hangs in the air, creating a pause in the celebratory chaos.

Lando breaks free from the crew as he rushes into the garage.

“Where’s she?” He asks his father, but doesn’t wait for a response, he just keeps running. “Nattie!”

His voice echoes through the garage, filled with urgency and worry. The celebration around him fades into the background as he searches for the one person who matters most to him. The pit lane becomes a blur as Lando races towards a truth he needs to uncover, his mind echoing with the possibility that something might have gone wrong.

Natalie is locked in Lando's driver's room, hidden beneath the massage table, when she hears Lando's voice screaming her name. The sound reverberates through the room, heightening the tension in the air. As his calls pierce through the silence, the door rattles from his attempts to gain access, his hands banging on the door, urgently pleading for her to open it.

In the confined space beneath the massage table, Natalie can feel her heartbeat syncing with the frantic rhythm of Lando's cries. The fear of being discovered intensifies with each passing second. The room becomes a sanctuary of isolation, echoing with the outside world's chaos and the desperate plea of someone searching for her.

Unable to endure the mounting pressure, Natalie decides to end the charade. She gets up, her hands trembling as she unlocks the door. The door swings open, revealing a breathless Lando on the other side. His eyes scan the room, settling on her panicked expression and shaky hands. The relief on his face is palpable as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him, creating a momentary bubble of privacy in the midst of the paddock's tumult.

“It's Lucas... isn't it?” She manages to speak, her voice laden with fear and vulnerability. “He was in the paddock earlier, and then he was just gone. Please tell me it isn't Lucas.”

The revelation of Lucas's presence and the implications weigh heavily on the air. Natalie's tears stream down her face, dampening the fabric of Lando's fireproof suite as she seeks solace in his arms.

“I'm sorry, love.” Lando breathes as he pulls her against him, offering a comforting embrace. 

“Why would he do something like that?” She cries into his chest, the pain and confusion evident in her voice.

The question lingers, an unspoken plea for answers to a situation that strikes at the heart of trust and security. The weight of the revelation, the emotions swirling in the air, leaves him momentarily speechless. Sometimes, there are no words that can adequately capture the complexity of the situation, especially when faced with the shocking reappearance of someone from Natalie's past.

In the silence that follows, Lando tightens his embrace, offering a silent reassurance that transcends verbal communication. His presence, a steadying force in the midst of turmoil, becomes a tangible anchor for Natalie as they navigate the uncertainty together. Sometimes, the absence of words speaks volumes, acknowledging the depth of the emotional turmoil and the unspoken commitment to face whatever challenges lie ahead, hand in hand.

After calming Natalie down, Lando continues to debrief with the media and the team, leaving her in the care of his father. As they get ready to leave the paddock, Lando wraps his arm around Natalie, keeping her tight against him. The physical closeness serves as both a shield and a source of comfort, a silent affirmation of their connection and Lando's commitment to providing her with a sense of security.

Strolling down the paddock in silence, the night has settled, and the once-bustling atmosphere has dwindled. Very few people still wander around, allowing the couple a moment of respite amid the shadows of the paddock. Adam, Lando's father, had departed earlier to arrange additional security for both Lando and Natalie. He had pulled some strings to ensure a heightened police presence outside the track premises, further fortifying their protection.

In the quiet of the night, with the paddock lights casting a gentle glow, Lando and Natalie navigate the aftermath of the unsettling revelation, finding solace in each other's presence and the unspoken assurance of shared strength. The night air carries a mixture of tension and determination as they make their way through the paddock.

“I always thought you two would make a good-looking couple.” Lucas' voice echoes as he emerges from the shadows, stopping Lando and Natalie in their tracks. The sudden appearance sends a shiver down their spines, the past converging with the present in an unexpected and unsettling confrontation.

Lando instinctively tightens his grip around Natalie, a protective stance against the intrusion. The paddock, once a place of celebration and victory, transforms into an eerie backdrop for a confrontation that neither of them anticipated. The ambient glow of the paddock lights casts long shadows, accentuating the tension in the air.

Natalie's gaze narrows, a mixture of fear and defiance in her eyes as she confronts the figure from her past.

“There’s no use in hiding her. She’s always been a scared little girl.” Lucas continues, his words slicing through the air with a cruel edge. The tension in the paddock becomes palpable as he attempts to exert control through intimidation.

“You don’t want to do this, mate.” Lando warns him, a firmness in his tone. The protective instinct in Lando intensifies, his posture reflecting a readiness to shield Natalie from any harm.

“Oh, but I do. Because I vividly remember you staring at her, pining after her, pretty much frothing at the mouth when she was around you. Now you have her, but is she really as great as you hoped she would be?” Lucas asks. “Have you not realised that there’s nothing special about her?”

Lucas' words are laced with bitterness and resentment. His attempt to undermine their relationship becomes evident, a calculated effort to sow doubt and discord. Lando's jaw clenches, and his gaze narrows as he absorbs the verbal assault. He remains steadfast, standing beside Natalie with an unwavering determination to protect her from the venomous words.

“I think you need to leave.” Lando continues to warn him, his voice firm and resolute.

The air becomes charged with tension as Lucas takes a step closer to the couple, his actions pushing the boundaries of confrontation. Natalie, feeling the threat escalate, clutches Lando's arm, attempting to pull him back from the brewing conflict.

“And, you. You naughty little whore. Did you really think I was stupid? You got so turned on whenever he smiled at you. I should have known when you suddenly started wearing shorter skirts when you knew he’d be around.” Lucas continues, his words cutting through the air with a venomous tone.

The accusatory remarks aim to demean and shame, further escalating the tension in the paddock. Natalie, stung by the degrading comments, feels a surge of anger and humiliation. She tightens her grip on Lando's arm, seeking solace and strength from his unwavering presence.

“That’s enough. You do not get to speak to her.” Lando barks, his voice carrying a stern and protective edge.

The line has been crossed, and Lando, unwilling to tolerate any further disrespect towards Natalie, asserts himself in the face of Lucas's venomous words.

“Did she tell you she packed all her shit and disappeared in the middle of the night? That she didn’t even have the audacity to leave me in person, she left a note on the kitchen counter.” Lucas adds, his bitterness evident in every word. “She left me without any warning.”

Natalie, caught off guard by the airing of their past, feels a mixture of emotions. Lando, however, remains resolute, refusing to let the past dictate the present. He wraps a protective arm around Natalie, silently conveying his support and determination to shield her from the ghosts of her past relationship.

“I don’t blame her.” Lando counters. “You drugged her and assaulted her, and we have proof.”

The revelation of Lucas's heinous actions shifts the power dynamics of the confrontation. Lando, steadfast in his defence of Natalie, draws a line in the sand, exposing Lucas's true nature.

“I did not assault her.” Lucas argues. “She was drunk and having a good time. Who would have thought she’d be grinding her ass up against me that night and not you?”

His attempt to twist the narrative adds a layer of manipulation to the already charged atmosphere. Lando's jaw clenches once more, his grip on Natalie tightening as he struggles to contain his anger.

“Mate, take one more step and it’s over for you. Did you honestly think you could come into this paddock after what you did in Shanghai and intimidate us? I have people all over this paddock watching us right now. I have video evidence being sent to the police where you’re paying a barman to drug a girl’s drink with the intention of physically harming her. You do not get to scare her any more. You do not get to look her in the face and cause her any more trauma. Do you understand me? You’re going to walk out of here and never look back.” Lando barks with a resolute authority, his words cutting through the tension-laden air. “Leave. Now.”

Lucas, realising the gravity of the situation, begins to retreat hastily. The collective eyes of the paddock, now aware of the unfolding drama, follow his every step. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation as security guards shadow Lucas's exit.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Lando repeats, his voice cutting through the commotion.

The authority in his tone demands compliance, and Lucas, with a resentful glance back, continues his retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the paddock. As the tension gradually dissipates, Natalie looks up at Lando, a mixture of relief and gratitude in her eyes.

The distant wailing of police sirens grows louder, signalling the swift response to the emergency call. Within moments, uniformed officers arrive on the scene, taking control of the situation. Adam provides the evidence they gathered, including footage of Lucas orchestrating the drugging at the club in Shanghai.

Lucas, now surrounded by law enforcement, is met with stern faces and handcuffs. The seriousness of his actions sinks in as the officers read him his rights. The arrest is swift, and the atmosphere in the paddock shifts from tension to a sense of justice being served.

Natalie watches from a distance, her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Lando stands by her side, a protective arm around her shoulders. The weight of the recent events slowly begins to lift as they witness Lucas being led away by the police.

Lando, having fulfilled his promise to protect Natalie, looks down at her with a reassuring smile. The wheels of justice are in motion, and the dark chapter of Lucas's actions is now transitioning to a resolution that ensures accountability.

As they drive back to the hotel, the quietness inside the car is a comfortable one, devoid of tension and anxiety. The events in the paddock have left an emotional residue, but the shared silence between Natalie and Lando carries a sense of mutual understanding. The soft hum of the engine and the gentle rhythm of the road serve as a backdrop to their contemplative thoughts.

Lando occasionally glances at Natalie, his expression a mix of concern and relief. He reaches over and gently takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Natalie, still processing the recent confrontation with Lucas, appreciates the warmth of his touch.

The city lights illuminate the night, creating a calming ambiance within the car. The journey, though marked by the unexpected encounter, becomes a moment of reflection for both of them. The emotional rollercoaster they've been on seems to slow down, allowing them to catch their breaths.

In the dimly lit hotel room, the soft glow of the bathroom light spills into the space. Natalie takes a moment to compose herself, the echoes of the recent encounter with Lucas still lingering in her thoughts. As she emerges from the bathroom, she finds Lando sorting through their luggage.

Feeling a mixture of emotions, Natalie decides to embrace the solace of Lando's presence. Without saying a word, she walks over to him and wraps her arms around him. Lando, attuned to her unspoken feelings, reciprocates by folding his arms around her waist. In the quiet intimacy, he rests his head against her neck, offering silent support.

A moment of stillness hangs in the air before Natalie, moved by the comfort Lando provides, retracts slightly. Without a word, she pulls him closer and seals the moment with a sweet and reassuring kiss. The exchange speaks volumes, conveying a shared understanding and a connection that transcends words.

“What was that for?” Lando whispers once she pulls aways from the kiss.

“It was a thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for what you did.” She murmurs, her words carrying the weight of deep appreciation.

Lando, understanding the sentiment behind her actions, tightens his embrace and responds with another tender kiss.

“And, I’ll do it again. No questions asked.” His commitment to her safety is unwavering. “You know I love you, right?”

Natalie's heart skips a beat at Lando's unexpected confession of love. The shock registers on her face as she gazes into his eyes, trying to comprehend the depth of his feelings. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and a mix of emotions swirl within her.

In that moment, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping them in a cocoon of shared vulnerability. Natalie, caught off guard, searches Lando's eyes for sincerity and finds a sincerity that resonates deeply with her own emotions.

“You do?” She asks shyly.

“Of course, I do.” He informs her, his voice soft and low as he caresses her cheek. “How could I not?”

She presses her lips to him once more as they shuffle towards the bed. She pulls him down on top of her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as they continue to kiss. In the intimate embrace, their lips meet in a dance of shared emotions and newfound revelations. The room, once filled with tension, transforms into a haven where unspoken feelings find expression. Lando responds to her kiss with a gentle passion, savouring the warmth of the moment.

As they continue to kiss, a sense of comfort envelops them, transcending the events of the day. The weight of recent challenges begins to lift, replaced by the tender connection they've discovered. In each other's arms, they find solace, understanding, and the promise of something deeper than the complexities of their fake relationship.

The journey from pretending to love to acknowledging true feelings has unfolded in unexpected ways, leading them to this intimate intersection. The room becomes a sanctuary for their unspoken emotions, and time seems to slow down, allowing them to savour the sweetness of the moment.

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

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely @secretgal66

[northlt03]

Once again trying to spread my Rosekiller RWRB agenda...

Bartemius Crouch Sr as the head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a household name, respected and feared by everyone. Everyone except his rebellious son.

Barty Crouch Jr, known for getting around and hating his father in general. Barty Crouch who grew up close with Regulus to the point they're both insanely inseparable. He's charming, he's carefree, he tries to actively make things harder for his father, the whole shebang.

In comes Evan Rosier, son of one of the wealthiest pureblood families other than the Blacks. His father is trying to get the position for Minister for Magic. Evan is as Prince Henry is in the book. Kind of lonely, kind of keeps to himself.

For reasons beyond his understanding, Barty hates him, absolutely loathes him. It's completely a one sided feud though and it all bubbles up at Narcissa and Lucius' wedding when they go sprawling in an insanely expensive cake. (For the sake of the story, lets assume the Malfoys are closely related to the Rosiers)

Cue Bartemius Crouch Sr and Rosier Sr demanding they pretend to be best friends for pr purposes.

They get pictures taken for the Daily Prophet, they have to go to St Mungos together and talk to little kids, where there's a threat so they get shoved into a broom closet and Barty reveals the real reason he never liked Evan was because of something stupid that happened in Hogwarts that made him instantly dislike him.

They kind of unpack everything, start talking a lot more. Evan has this really stupid dad joke type of humor that would be completely unfunny if it was anyone else, but Barty fucking cracks up every time.

They start sitting next to each other whenever they have to be present in the Ministry. Evan has to constantly try to keep Barty under control and entertains him with insane gossip and Barty just blurts out any impulsive thoughts he has like, "hey I should just push over a shelf in the hall of prophecies and watch all the balls fall, I think that would be fun" And Evan has to constantly deal with his ass.

Anyway, they become friends, sort of. Barty likes him because no one really looks at him the way Evan does, like there's something interesting about him. No one ever looks or tries to look at the person he is and not just his body. Hell, even his own father avoids looking at him if he can.

Evan is distant sometimes though, like he's dealing with more than he could possibly divulge. And Barty's great at distracting him, great at making him laugh, making him feel like they're the only ones in a room.

Barty always throws the best parties other than the Gryffindor graduates. For the New Years Party, he manages to convince Regulus to show up as well cause he wanted to reunite the whole Slytherin group.

Evan, surprisingly, shows up, even though he had told Barty he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it.

The party is like a ritual for Barty. He gets wasted, he kisses a girl or usually more than one (that pisses off his dad so fucking much and maybe that's the reason he keeps doing it) then he wakes up the next day hungover. It's fun for him.

It's fun when he tries to drag Evan onto the dancefloor and tries to make him laugh with bad dance moves. It's fun when Evan keeps staring at him and only him. It's fun when he slips his hands onto Evan's waist trying to get him to loosen up, try to forget the pureblood upbringing. It's fun when they're super close and Evan keeps staring at him through his eyelashes like that.

It's fun when the countdown begins and Barty tries to look for a girl to kiss. It's fun when some pretty girl slips into his arms and they chant the numbers and lock lips.

It's not fun anymore when he looks up to see Evan absolutely devastated. It's not fun anymore when he sees Evan look like he's going to throw up. It's not fun anymore when he sees Evan slip out to get fresh air.

So he follows him because that's the rational thing to do. And he finds him under a tree.

It's kind of hard to look away from Evan ever since he started looking at him. It's kind of hard to give a shit about anything else when Evan is in front of him.

Barty knows he'll never know what it's like to grow up in a pureblood family, not in the way Regulus and Evan do. So when Evan starts blabbing about what he can and can't do, its all he can do to nod along.

He tries to be supportive, he really does. But its clear he's way too drunk for it.

So when Evan calls him stupid (that's kind of become his nickname) and kisses him before pushing him away and immediately bolting, Barty's mind kind of stops working.

Evan doesn't call, doesn't send letters anymore. He's laser focused on helping his father's campaign or something equally stupid that does not work as an excuse.

Barty's thought of guys like that before, but he never thought of Evan being into guys. He's not homophobic, but he's not gay either. He's been around Regulus enough to know the terms.

He ends up confiding in Regulus about everything that happened and takes his advice.

The next time they meet, it's at the ministry.

Evan looks positively ravishing. Barty almost leaps across the room to drag him away. He knows Evan won't come willingly. He bribes and lies but he gets his way.

And it's just the two of them alone in a room again.

This time, Barty isn't stunned or hesitant. This time he kisses the way he wished he'd kissed back when Evan kissed him.

And well, it may not be a very easy road, but they make it eventually.

[sgiandubh]

"He's actually paying those PR people? Whatever for? A drunk wombat would be better at the task." I LOL'd because my god have we been asking this very question of both Sam and Cait for years. They're PR is actually the worst. It's honestly hard to believe at times. Absolutely zero idea who either of them are trying to reach. The recalibrating after that VF disaster sent Cait into hiding, I'm not sure she's done another print interview since Belfast promo ended and if the Sam articles are going to continue on this way, he can quit too. Boring.

Dear Quit Anon,

I am flattered I managed to bring a smile or even a LOL, but I am not particularly glad about it. Unlike droves of people who think this PR shitshow is sad, I actually find it mystifying.

You are right. Goddess C went into occultation after that cursed VF interview. There are clear reasons, I think, for that. Also, please take into account the fact that, despite the illusions peddled by some fuckwits in this fandom, there are many things we simply do not know (nor should we, most probably).

As for S, I guess that ever since she went totally MIA (as I said, make-up and fash-un promo don't really compensate), he is overexposing himself. On purpose. Perhaps to protect her (I think so). Certainly to hide something. Since this is no way in hell about being gay (I will die on that hill and I know I am right), the only thing he could hide is well... I don't really need to draw it, do I?

Smoke and mirrors is always a risky strategy. S simply hasn't got what it takes to play that game long term, probably for the same reasons he was never a serious shortlist candidate for Bond. At this point in time, he'd mechanically go with whatever merde du jour is thrown by his imbecile PR on the table. Still, it's high time he'd seriously pull himself together. He can do better, as I wrote in a comment: he can do NYT and he did it very well, recently. And I was glad to see that. But Metro is just disappointing, clueless and tasteless. And it's padding up a press portfolio with amiable, meaningless bullshit that goes nowhere. Or at least nowhere near he wants to be or see himself in, let's say, five years from now.

OL is going to end. It has to. It's been both a blessing and a curse, I said that before. Then, it will be high time to end the fucking Truman Show. He (abstractly) knows that, he keeps hinting about it. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world” - for some reason, I found this phrase very telling. But I doubt he internalized what probably still feels like a safely remote occurrence, right now.

What are his real projects? For the moment, zero. Directing? I'd love to see it, but he's got no real credentials for that. Bond? I mean, publicly gushing and insisting is not going to manifest it. He needs a real movie, a good one to break that glass ceiling. Is he going to get it? I hope so. But his personal brand awareness is still low. The PR clowns should stop talking to us, in here: we are already here and not going anywhere. All of us: antis, mommies, shippers, fencers, haters, trolls. They should talk to the people who have no clue who S is, and do it differently. He should step out of his comfort zone, ditch the leeches and refuse to discuss his personal life, for a while. There, I said it.

What are her real projects? For the moment, not much. Sure, we have The Cut, where I gather her part is minimalistic, to be kind. We also have The Amateur, of which very little is known at the moment. However, if I am correct, she is not one of the leads. Enough said. And beyond that? Crickets.

Make no mistake. The real litmus test is not now. The real litmus test is 2025. And then we'll see. And I'll still be here, taking weeping Anons because I don't know who said I don't know what I don't know where. Mark me.

[foxes-that-run]

Can you please write about everything that went down with Harry, Taylor, and Kendall? Please 😊 🫶

There are quite a few decent Hendall timelines on tumblr, these are the mentions of Kendall in my timeline.

Hendall timeline

2013

20 November - Harry has dinner with Kendall Taylor tweets ""I've listened to "Hold On" by @ColbieCaillat 45 times today. So on repeat. So important." on the 21st when dinner reported.

23 November, both Harry, Taylor and Kendall at AMAs, gold dress. Kendall PDA reported by media but there is no record of it. That's a fair sign that it was PR.

25 November - Midnight Memories released

6 December - Harry leaves Kendalls hotel and they have breakfast. Lunch the next day NY. Harry is carrying notebooks and dressed that same as in the Spotify visual for Where Do Broken Hearts Go. Tabloids say not dating Kendall and he is texting Daisy Lowe.

15 December - One Direction performs Midnight Memories on Xfactor UK Final and Harry arrives at Kendalls London hotel at 2am. This is a really odd sighting because he was seen with Ed and Taylor 2 days later.

17 December - Harry, Ed and Taylor spotted together in Suffolk.

2014

2 - 4 January - Harry and Kendall go Skiing with his manager Jeff and his GF

6 January Lover Journal January 6, 2014, LA: Taylor decides to move to NY “dating is awful”. Reports KUWK producers wanted to film Harry and Kendall and Harry said no.

16 January - Harry seen at pool, then eagles concert in LA on 17th Harry puts his arm around Kendall at Eagles Concert. Kathy Griffiths said he was wasted, said that Tom hanks joked about wanting to drive Harry rehab and that he didn’t stay with Kendall inside.

25 January - Rumour Harry seen with Kendall.

2 February - Harry’s 20th birthday, he told stern in 2022 that when he was 20 he felt like every decision in his adult life had been made as a democracy till that point and felt he should make decisions. Daily Mail he spent birthday with Kendall Jenner, his cousin said he is always the dumpee.

9 February - Taylor wrote Clean written

11 February - Taylor gets haircut, Harry seen backstage. He writes Stockholm Syndrome. At this stage it seems Haylor is at least flirting and hanging out. Next think you know....

18 February - Kendall at London Fashion Week, Harry goes to Cara's show not hers, in the BUA the next week "Harry purposely didn’t go to the Topshop show or have his planned party so people wouldn’t speculate about him and Kendall,”

19 February - Harry left Brit’s after party early to return to LA

20 February - Harry arrives in LA in afternoon.

22 February - Lover Journal February 22, 2014, LA, Been in the studio with Max, Shake it off, has been in Conway Studios all week. Ariana Grande also recording album. Said that Harry "was just visiting the studio and (producers) Savan (Kotecha) and Johan (Carlsson) were like 'Hey do you wanna write a song for Ariana?' and he was like 'Oh sure!'" "He went into the other room and they were writing for a while and I remember when I heard it I was like 'Wow that's a really strong verse, that's really beautiful’ She records JALBOYH in Conway Studios, Max Martin working on both records. Harry MIA in day, then at same Miley concert, Kendall goes separately. Harry and Kendall BUA, work commitments

12, 13 March - Harry had dinner alone in LA, Kendall on date with someone else down the street. Harry’s motorbike broke down, he looked sad, guy who came to help mad. 15 March LA

[for the rest of the year Harry toured and was in the same city as Taylor a lot, 1989 came out in October.]

1 December - Harry, Kendall and Cara at British Fashion Awards in London, the day of that photo of him at top of stairs.

2015

The start 2015 is the end Haylor of sorts, Calvin appeared in March.

11 January - Harry tweets he had a "I Had a Good Morning :D Hard Work.... 'Yikes' !!". Kendall and Khloe post "Forget You "I see you driving 'round town/With the boy I love and I'm like/Forget you." Like clockwork that Haylor ends and Kendall is back.

14 January - Last time Harry and Taylor are seen at the same place till 2021 is Lily Aldridge's birthday.

17 January - Taylor shares photo of her kitchen with framed Temper Trap lyrics on her stove. Again they broke up before his birthday. :( Harry tweets that "This bucket hat might be the best purchase we've made in years." Cara and Kendall retweet that and the Cake? Rumour they bought a hat. H played golf the next day.

22 January - Harry went for yogurt, Nadine Leopold in his car

1 February - Harry’s 21st birthday party, everyone is fabulous with Gigi, Kendall, Cara there Harry Styles turns 21 with the A-list No mention of Taylor or Lily Aldridge, although Harry had been at Lily’s birthday 2 weeks earlier.

27 June - Taylor London show w/Kendall, Gigi, Serena, KK, Martha, Cara. 1D in Helsinki.

13 October - Kendall and Cara seen dancing at a One Direction concert.

28 November - Rumour Harry with Kendall at golf club.

31 December - actual last 1D performance Dick Clark's Rockin New Years TV Special, their performance was pretaped. The Out of the Woods music video premiered on the same show. Harry seen in Yacht with Kendall.

2016

1 January Yachtgate, but they seemingly broke up immediately after if they were dating. Before this they had started the year with Yachtgate, then there was gossip that the Harry didn’t want to be in KUWTK. So Hendall ended sometime between 6 - 21 January 2016.

21 January - Harry had a birthday party in London on the 21st where a stylist slept over at his house and I think that was the end of hendall if it was not already over. Kendall flew from LA to Paris the same day, so could have been there but didn't.

23 January - They were both at Jeff’s birthday on 23 January, but arrived and left separately, the Bonne Nuit is probably also a reference to her returning from Paris (and not going to his birthday in London) Kendall is wearing a Big o' Fur (Pop tart??) and leaves alone.

24 January - Harry had a birthday party in LA and Kendall not mentioned. Then she disappears for months.

8 April - Harry seen shopping with Kid Harpoon and Kendall, “watch KUWK May 1

13 July - taylorswiftisoverparty hashtag trending

17 July - Kim K posts that she has a recording of Snake convo.

21 July - Kendall posts "tea time" with photo Taylor later copies in LAWYMMD video. Also likes anti-swift posts.

2 September - Kendall and Harry at Nobu in LA, Dunkirk wraps. Harry not seen for another 15 days after.

5 September - Harry has dinner with Kendall then disappears. Could have been when he first went to Jamaica.

3 November - Harry seen back in LA at Kendall birthday and concert next day. Photo of Harry in red Jacket looking at his phone while Kendall makes out with someone else and then she isn't seen till she attends a few concerts over the next few years.

2017

She is not at his birthday, they date other people, he releases HS1

4 July - Karlie Kloss posts a photo with Kendall in Paris, the internet realises KK is not in Taylor Swifts squad.

14 July - Kendall came to Harry's show

27 August - LAWYMMD video, Kendall tea time reenactment

2018

No Hendall content

2019

7 May - Harry hosts his only met gala attendance, Taylor’s doesn’t go anymore. Adore you and Lights up written in May. Harry and Kendall have after party and both leave at 6am and both stayed at the Bowery hotel. Jeff and Xander also there.

11 December - Kendall and Harry on Spill your guts

2020

18 February - Harry at Brit awards, went to same after party as Kendall

2 April - Harry seen riding a motorcycle beside Kendall Jenner and Fai Khadra.

2021

no Hendall content

2022

15 April - Kendall watches Harry at Coachella

14 November - Kendall at Love on Tour, no setlist change.

2023

no Hendall content

2024

20 October - Joe Alwyn pictured with Kendall Jenner at awards dinner, Patrick S also there. Internet clowns.

[mesaprotector]

Clarity trumps efficiency.

*I would've liked to write this essay to be understandable for someone without a programming/Linux background, but it was a bit too difficult. If you skip to the paragraph beginning with "...", it gets a bit easier from then on.

If you’ve ever written your own shell scripts you may have heard of the phrase “useless use of cat*”, or less tactfully, “cat abuse”. This refers to the practice, common among new shell script enthusiasts, of writing commands like “cat file.txt | grep name”, when “grep name file.txt” would serve perfectly well. Tools like shellcheck will bug you about it—along with similar constructions like “ps ax | grep Discord | wc -l” instead of “pgrep -c Discord”.

Well, I’m here to defend cat abuse! There are two arguments I see against the cat | grep construction, one of which is valid but situational, and the other of which is completely invalid. The former is that the extra pipe just adds additional overhead into the command. Yes, it does. And it’s unlikely to matter at all if you’re using it on 20KiB text files on a system built in the past 40 years; however, in production, when writing tools that need to be able to deal with arbitrarily large text files as efficiently as possible, sure.

The latter is “well, it’s just unnecessary”. I disagree. I think the cat | grep construction—along with similar such as grep | wc, ps | grep, ps | awk, and so on—serves a very important purpose in that it makes shell scripts easier to read, easier to modify, and easier to debug.

Consider this example from above:

ps ax | grep Discord | wc -l

Read the process table; filter for "Discord"; count the number of lines. It’s very atomic. Each operation can be swapped out for something else without confusing the reader. On the other hand:

pgrep -c Discord

Now, this does the same thing—counting the number of lines in the process table with "Discord" in them. It looks like only one operation... but it’s really still three in disguise. And worse, imagine you suddenly want to add another filter; sorting not only by Discord, but by processes that include the word “title”. This is not straightforward at all! It turns out that while regex has a standard way of searching for alternatives, it really does not provide an easy method for searching for BOTH of two words. On the other hand, with the atomic version, it’s easy:

ps ax | grep Discord | grep title | wc -l

Take that, “useless” use of cat.

There’s a broader meaning, though, to my statement of “clarity trumps efficiency”. I apply it to every aspect of use of electronics, from web searches to backup routines to yes, silly little shell scripts that use cat.

I use command aliases, but to a pretty limited degree; I avoid cutesy stuff like “ll” for “ls -l” and “yeet” for “pacman -Rns”, along with possibly-dangerous substitutions like “rm” for “rm -i”; I’d never dream of aliasing “nano” or “vi” to my preferred text editor (vim). I believe strongly that my commands should be transparent, and saving me from my own muscle memory once or twice is not worth making them completely opaque.

Tab completion on the other hand is one of my favorite features in the shell. It’s the perfect combination of transparent and convenient; without having to alias any of my application names or get hit by the information overload fuzzy finding gives you, I can still launch any of them in no more than four keystrokes. (Except audacious and audacity, admittedly.)

I use a floating window manager (Openbox), and when I need to briefly use a tiling layout, I have a very boring way of doing so: focusing each window one by one and moving it into the slot I want. (While holding down the Super/Windows key, 1-C-2-V does a basic left-right split.)

... I make some use of spellcheck on assignments to be turned in, but never autocorrect, which I abhor even in messaging apps. Every change to your inputs should be deliberate; otherwise you’ll never learn what you’re doing wrong, and you’ll never need to be precise because you’ve turned over that part of your brain to the algorithm.

This leads me to an important corollary of my principle: “it’s better to have a slow algorithm that you understand, than a fast one that you don’t”.

Satya Nadella’s vision of the PC of the future is one where you tell it what to do in natural language and it interprets that using LLMs and so on into machine instructions. Instead of viewing a PC as a toolbox you go into the workshop with, and work on projects with in certain defined ways, he wants the PC to be an assistant; you give the assistant directions and pray that it gets things right. Of course you aren’t allowed into the workshop with the tools anymore; that’s the assistant’s job!

Anyone who’s used Google Search over the past ten years knows how miserable this model is; you search for a specific phrase that Google “helpfully” corrects to something it thinks you meant. There was a learning curve to the old way, but once you learned how to state queries precisely, you were done; now you need to play psychologist, sociologist, and statistician all at once.

This is a decent part of why I dislike generative AI, though far from the main reason. I don’t want an opaque algorithm making decisions for me, unless those decisions are incredibly low-level stuff like core parking that no human should be directly involved with in the first place.

To get back to my own setup, I have a whole text file documenting the system maintenance process I go through once every month; most of it could be automated, but I make every step a deliberate choice. Not to go all new-age, but for me specifically—it all ties back in to mindfulness.

I think people have only a vague concept of what mindfulness is. Until two years ago or so, I was the same way. But to who I am now, mindfulness means not doing anything on autopilot. Instead of letting yourself half-doze off on a drive home, scarcely remembering the 20 minutes from the parking lot to the garage, be conscious of every turn. Instead of immediately putting on music and blocking out the world on a train ride to the next city, force yourself to be present in the train car, and notice the way the light reflects on the plastic seat two rows in front.

And to me, clarity in code, and in UX, is a part of this mindfulness. Programs that are easy to read, easy to modify, and easy to debug encourage you to look closer—to consider every atom that goes into their statements instead of taking them for granted. Slow algorithms that you understand can help you think of improvements; fast algorithms that you don’t encourage you to give up and leave the real thinking to someone else.

So write silly little shell scripts with five pipes in a single statement, and yes, that uselessly use cat. Rather than doing anything wrong—you’re allowing yourself and others to think, to try, and to improve.