#but yeah unfortunately I. don’t think I liked it

[lechrts]

Die For You. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Friend!reader

Summary: When he’s the only one that’s allowed to pick on you. (And unfortunately someone else picks on you, and it backfires.)

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer/s: fluff… kinda… defensive!Lando 👅. A tad bit of body shaming i fear …

Vera’s Voice! hi Enya. For U. i hope i did this justice.

The bar was alive with laughter and music, and you were perched at the counter, sipping on your favorite fruity cocktail. As usual, Lando couldn’t resist making a comment the moment he saw you.

“Another one?” He said, sauntering up next to you with a smug grin. “What is that now? Your third? Fourth?“ He grinned with a small pause.

“Be careful. We can’t afford to have you tumbling like a drunk mess in the streets later.”

You glared at him, already irritated. “I can handle myself, and this is my second drink. Thank you very much.” A scoff and eye roll emitted from your body.

“Yeah, right,” He replied, his grin widening. “Say that again when you inevitably start slurring your words and crying about how much you hate tequila.”

“Ha. Funny.” You deadpanned.

“I’m serious,” He pressed, leaning on the counter with a quirked brow and stupid smile. “You’re a lightweight. One more of those, and you’re topless on a counter.”

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink just to spite him. “And I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“Maybe so,” He fired back with a sheepish shrug. “But I’m just looking out for you,” Another wink.

Before you could respond, one of Lando’s mates—you couldn’t remember his name, they weren’t that close honestly—wandered over, clearly overhearing the exchange.

“Seriously,” He said, his eyes scanning the glass in your hand. “Another sugary monstrosity? You know that stuff makes you bloat, right?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You froze, the insult hanging in the air as your self-consciousness surged.

“And for the record,” He continued, smirking like he’d just delivered the joke of the century, “It’s not exactly flattering. Just saying.”

Lando’s head snapped toward him so fast it was almost comical. But there was nothing funny about the deadly look on his face.

“What’d you say?” Lando’s voice was low and ice-cold, a tone you’d never heard from him before as her quirked a brow with a repulsed look.

His friend blinked, caught off guard. “Just telling your friend here that she’s gonna get fat if she continues drinking all that—“

Lando cut him off with a light shove, almost like it was a warning for him to shut up

“Relax, mate. I was just jok—”

“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t funny,” He cut him off sharply, now stepping forward to put himself in front of you. “Who even says that? You think that’s funny?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” The guy stammered, clearly starting to regret opening his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lando snapped. “You don’t talk to her like that. Ever. Got it?”

“Alright, chill, mate. I didn’t know she was off-limits or whatever.”

“Off-limits?” Lando repeated, his voice rising. “She’s not off-limits, she’s just better than your pathetic attempts at humor. So why don’t you piss off.”

The guy muttered something under his breath before walking away, leaving the two of you standing in tense silence.

“Lando…” You started, but he turned to face you before you could say more.

His expression softened as he ran a hand through his hair. “I hope you don’t believe a word he said.“

You swallowed hard, still feeling the sting of the comment but touched by Lando’s protectiveness. “Thanks for…that,” You said quietly.

“I mean it,” Lando said, stepping closer. “I know I’m a prick but it’s all in good fun.” A pause. “I also never make comments about your appearance.. considering you’re gorgeous…” He trailed off, his sly way of sneaking in a compliment making you slightly blush.

You huffed out a small laugh, your lips twitching into a faint smile. “I don’t know what’s more shocking: that you just defended me or that you actually said something nice for once.”

“Don’t get used to it,” He said, his usual smirk creeping back.

“Of course,” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “Who else will tell me I’m stupid every second they can?”

“Only me,” He added, his tone more serious. “No one else gets to. Not like that.”

You looked up at him, his sincerity catching you off guard. “Deal.”

And just like that, the teasing and bickering was back—but this time, you couldn’t help but feel a little safer, knowing Lando had your back.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[shabbytigers]

literally not trying to fight here, to be clear.

i don’t use siri or alexa or voice controlled remotes either but that’s mostly because i intensely dislike doing anything via voice. i don’t listen to podcasts, avoid videos where a text alternative exists. idk about robovacuums, are those voice controlled too? but in any case i never really saw the point of those one way or another. i am however considering using claude (at some point when i get it together to formulate a question and figure out how prompts work); you can have conversations with claude via typing, and its sophistication is starting to be interesting to me in a way earlier robots like siri haven’t been. i don’t have some deep fundamental rage or fear about robots. idk.

the real-feeling-to-me fears around data are two things

1. classic identity theft, credit card spoofing or whatever. at this point that feels a lot like major weather events: basic weatherproofing makes sense but i’m not structuring my day to day life around precautions. worst case, there’s a situation and i deal with it. i’ve had two incidents in this last year plus, they didn’t actually get any of my money, there were some unpleasant nuisance phone calls etc but worse things happen in war.

i don’t think that google or facebook or apple or even x is running a literal identity theft mob at scale. so for me this doesn’t connect directly to the question of turning off the ai setting on the iphone photos app y/n. the issue is, will they have a data leak that allows a third party mob to do the thing. but at that point we’re back to ambient systemic risk: yeah, weather events are gonna happen, somewhere

2. hostile government surveillance, as @thatiswhy pointed out, is the other concern.

not sure how much to worry about this irl. if i were trans in texas or florida, lots. in new york or berlin … meh, but with one twitchy eye open? normal [sic] governments, not in the throes of full-blown theocratic fascism, have neither the inclination nor the capacity for this shit. given the state of the u.s. it may become a federal level risk imminently, but granular surveillance at scale in a country of 330 million people is a lot and state capacity has been, is, and will continue to be in the toilet. overcoming the sludge in the way of getting anything done isn’t just a question of tech. it will require extraordinarily motivated, focused, willful villainy and a paucity or dereliction of opposition.

once more, however, i have a lot of just very fundamental difficulty causally connecting the toggle on my photos app to the state coming after me to deliberately and malevolently fuck me up. are there plausible scenarios where the state would actually do that? unfortunately yes. will my photo app toggle make any difference? they don’t need my data in particular, they need tons and tons of aggregate data. clearly they’re going to get tons and tons of aggregate data. furthermore, they’re going to get my data. because there are obviously uncountable other things on a well functioning current-day smartphone and in any ordinary human being’s digital life just generally that can be mined in this manner.

again, we’re now talking about something highly pervasive, systematic and infrastructural. the risk is baked into the system. like, i am not going to kill my online presence everywhere, go full black bloc, take myself right tf off the digital grid, due to this vast nebulous inchoate concern. that would be like spending every hour of every day weatherproofing, never going outside, etc, etc. i’m sure it’s worth it to a person with a highly specific and confirmed reason to worry. i do not think it makes sense for everyone or should be recommended on general principles.

also … see, i actually really like the internet? i don’t think phones or social media are a society-destroying plague? i don’t think it’s terrible or unhealthy or whatever to spend a lot of time on the phone, assuming you do also have other shit going on, etc? i feel like there are pervasive and rising anti-phone attitudes that foster a preexisting inclination to point to the phone as the fons et origo of all evil futures, and it’s maybe coloring risk assessment around this. it’s got that dubious-public-health virtue-and-moral panic feel

also also, it’s all a bit beyond my pay grade, but if you’re looking for something to worry about wrt AI, i gather there’s more interesting/concerning issues available than the question of immediate-term data mining inputs and use cases. vaguely offensive, nuisancey shit like this is just the scurf of capitalism, don’t let it get you down, save some reserves for like real problems imho

Oh _lovely_. Everyone go turn this off:

Enhanced Visual Search in Photos allows you to search for photos using landmarks or points of interest. Your device privately matches places in your photos to a global index Apple maintains on our servers. We apply homomorphic encryption and differential privacy, and use an OHTTP relay that hides [your] IP address. This prevents Apple from learning about the information in your photos. You can turn off Enhanced Visual Search at any time on your iOS or iPadOS device by going to Settings > Apps > Photos. On Mac, open Photos and go to Settings > General.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes” over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1

Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima

Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

Like the new girl.

She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.

But then it got bolder.

She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.

You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.

Yet, she kept pushing.

One day, she took it too far.

You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.

“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.

You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.

“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.

She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”

You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.

Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”

Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"

Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.

"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."

She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”

With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.

The flames swallowed it instantly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."

Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."

Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.

The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”

"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."

You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

"Right, Kats?"

His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.

"Damn right."

The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.

He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."

You grinned. "She had it coming."

He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"

Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.

Denki Kaminari

Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.

And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.

Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.

But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.

Oh, who were you kidding?

She knew.

She knew, and she was still trying.

One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.

There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.

And that was it.

You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.

“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.

Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.

By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.

“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.

Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.

“Now you see her.”

In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.

Your nails.

Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.

Broken.

“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.

It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.

Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.

Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were used to people liking Eijiro.

It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.

But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.

She was competing with you.

Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”

She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.

Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.

At first, you ignored her attempts.

The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”

She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.

He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.

And that? That drove her crazy.

One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?

She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.

“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”

Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”

“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”

And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.

You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”

Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”

And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.

The room went silent.

Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”

You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”

“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”

“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.

But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”

And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.

It wasn’t just some quick peck.

It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.

Kanna’s face flushed deep red.

She didn’t say another word.

She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.

The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.

“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.

“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.

Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”

Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”

And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?

They sure as hell didn’t now.

[portraitsofguilt]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN jinx au/powder

content warnings.          18+ MDNI, suggestive/angsty content, gn! reader, hinted jock/masc reader, use of y/n (once), mentions of vi/caitlyn/caitvi, making out, kissing, seven minutes in heaven game | wc: 1,05k

author's note.   so if you ever saw grey’s anatomy and the part where derek tells mark to not touch lexie? yeah that mixed with 7 minutes in heaven because I’m in a mood lmao- hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

lose yourself sometimes…

that’s what vi always told her shortly before the incident. powder knew she meant well, that she wanted powder to be a little more reckless, a little bit freer than she was when vi started going to the academy, that she wanted her sister to make some mistakes and not regret them. that’s why she accepted the invitation to a party that was just before the first day of academy.

“powder and… y/n!” claggor said before taking another sip of his red cup. powder looked up from the bottle, eyes locking on your form as you down your drink and jump up after a couple of back pats from a friend.

you were an old friend of vi’s, started at the academy at the same year and the two of you went to the same gym and sports team all of your years up until… before everything happened, vi had you over more than a couple of times and powder has stared at you from her window more times than she wanted to admit, watching as her sister and you did your silly games and competitions. but how couldn’t she? you noticed her in ways no one did, she wasn’t just vi’s sister to you, she was powder every time you talked or mentioned her.

…and don’t miss out on the things I did.

the closet wasn’t a piece of furniture, it was a walk-in closet, the small room’s wall filled with expensive shoes and dresses that probably belonged to your friend’s mother.

“it’s rude to stare you know…” you trailed off, looking over your shoulder to find free space so you can lean against the wall. powder’s cheeks heat up, burying her face in her shoulder but still trying to steal some glances towards your way. your shirt was a lower cut than usual, your black jeans much tighter, perfectly capturing the curves and toning of your body.

“I never knew you noticed- you could have mentioned if it was making you uncomfortable!” powder muttered, sort of teasingly, taking a step to the other side of the closet. embarrassment washed over her face and how unfortunate that this room was so small there was no way you didn’t see her blush.

you chuckled, reaching out to take her hand and pulling her closer to you. “why are you nervous, powder? it’s just me,” you smiled, interviewing your fingers. you did this time to time, powder told you that it was calming, that the slight warmth of your hand and the smell of your smell.

“I’m nervous ‘cuz it’s you…” powder knew you would force her into anything, and maybe that’s why she was so nervous, because you weren’t. because that meant she has to be the one starting, starting something, she has never done too many times for herself.

‘and I’m nervous about missing out on you…’

so, powder did, leaning in to meet your lips and she was ready to for you to push her off, yell at her for what she was thinking. but the hand on her cheek wasn’t pushing her away, it kept still like it was afraid to move, a tad shaky-

was it because you were pitying her, that you didn’t want to hurt her feelings? and if not, was it okay to be asking for so much from you, it should be alright for you to let her, right? stupid powder… she’s already swept away by desire. the way her lips open when your tongue pushes against them, the way her body flushes against your and both of you tumble in the pile of clothes on the ground, powder falling into your lap.

she follows your lead, letting your tongue dominate her, letting her free hand grab the back of your neck to hold you close. she did her best trying to keep herself up and steady, moving her hand to your shoulder. powder was shivering from excitement, goosebumps exploding on her body every time you brushed your thumb against her cheek, deepening the kiss with little dips.

“more…” she whimpered, unlacing your hands, and moving it up your arms, bunching the fabric of your shirt between her weak fingers. your lips pressed into her neck, hand skillfully slipping to her chin, holding her so you could turn and move her as you pleased. your other hand tugging her shirt out of her pants, slipping a couple of fingers under the cloth and moving them up her side.

she knew what was coming and she couldn’t be more excited, maybe it was the alcohol that got her all excited beside you, maybe it was just that you have finally giving her what she has been waiting for. your out most and undivided attention, only seeing her, thinking about her, and wanting her.

“I think the seven minutes are up.” you murmured into the crook of her neck, placing on last kiss on her delicate skin before pulling away, patting the sides of her thigh to rush her movements, “I don’t… vi wouldn’t…” your voice falters as you help her up, assisting her fixing her shirt and hair. you pushed the door open, taking one last glance over your shoulder.

it felt like a lifetime ago, your promise to vi, to never to touch her sister but to help her find herself in this confusing world and to never let her lose out on things like she did on the girl she met at the academy. caitlyn was her name? you still see her around campus, but she is… not herself anymore.

“my promise to her? I think I just went against it…”

[cy-cyborg]

Big vent about Centrelink and Australia’s welfare system ahead.

I’ve known for a long time how cold and uncaring Australia’s welfare system is, especially Centrelink, but I don’t think it really clicked until today.

Im on the disability support pension meaning the government acknowledges I can not work full time. A few years ago, I messed up on some forms and never declared to them that my partner and I were in a relationship. I had meant to, but had a moment and forgot to hand them in. By the time I realised my mistake it was years later. Just before Christmas I went in to fix it and to get help with the forms because I always panic when I do Centrelink forms, I always miss something or misunderstand, I always do something wrong, so this time I went in for help with it. My partner and my support worker came with me to help make sure I was understanding everything, and to make sure I remember what they told me, because I tend to forget more when stressed.

Because my partner is an immigrant and self employed but not earning much, the process actually ended up being a bit more complicated so we’ve had to go in to do the forms over multiple appointments with the last one being last Thursday.

I was informed that because I didn’t declare the relationship right away, I’ve been overpaid and I’ll have to give that overpay amount back because, fun fact, just being in a relationship is enough for them to cut your payments here - not being married, just in a relationship. I knew that though and was prepared for it. At the last appointment I was finally given an estimate of how much I need to pay back.

It’s over $20,000.

I’m not entirely sure how they got that number, I’m going to ask for a break down of it once the amount is confirmed, but you want to know what sucks? I was relieved to hear that amount. I was mentally prepared for it to be double or triple that, and it would have been if the worker at the office didn’t pull me up and inform me I’d misunderstood some of the questions (so yeah, going in for help was a good call). Thankfully, because the disability support pension is already below the poverty line even before the cuts they made, I don’t have to pay it back at once, they’ll take a percentage of my pension out every fortnight to pay it back. Unfortunately, because I’m already below the poverty line, reducing my pension even further means I can’t afford rent anymore, even in a place that is already way, WAY below the current rental market value, so I can’t really afford rent…anywhere. Not even in remote and regional areas (I checked). Not a single private rental in the country is low enough for us to afford now. The only ones that were close weren’t wheelchair accessible. The pension will also go down if my partner earns anything, and it limits his hours (though I don’t know how that’s supposed to work if he’s self employed since pay isn’t really based on hours like typical jobs, I’m going to ask about that at the next appointment). Thankfully we had already planned for that and we’re planning to move in with my mum, but that means basically being cut off from the internet since her place is very rural and signal doesn’t really reach their place consistently.

But the shittyness doesn’t end there, oh no.

Today, I woke up to the dreaded “you have a myGov message” text. Only to open it and for them to tell me that they’re cutting my whole disability pension, it was just canceled. No ifs or buts, it was just gone. A few days before rent and all my bills are due. What was the reason you ask? Because one of the fields (asking for my partner’s tax info) on the form wasn’t filled out… the form I got the Centrelink office to check over before handing it in, that was definitely filled in. I know it was. There wasn’t even any “we’re missing information, you have x amount of time to fix this or your payment will be cancelled” warning, it was just, you didn’t fill out this one field that could be easily fixed so your pension is canceled, and you have to pay us that $20,000 out of pocket now, bye!

Obviously rattled and confused, I went back to the office (which is only a few minutes from where I live) and asked what the hell happened, the lady who helped us last time even vouched for us and said she knows we filled that out and gave it to them, she was there, only for them to go into my file and realise the way the file had been scanned cut off part of the field, so the automated systems didn’t see it and auto-cancelled my whole pension over it. So we had to wait an additional half and hour for the office staff to argue with whoever was in charge of that decision, to let them fix it because as far as Centrelink was concerned the issue wasn’t negotiable. It did eventually get sorted, so I’m at least not loosing my pension and being forced to pay back the dept out of pocket.

My partner, before coming to Australia was in the US military, he describes his experience with them as being treated like “numbered cannon fodder” and his dealings with the VA as being treated like “a piece of dog shit on their shoes”. He fought with the Australian immigration department for years to be allowed to stay here, the department that openly and proudly discriminated against him and me for our disabilities, that insisted he jump through countless hoops for the most ridiculous of reasons to prove he “wouldn’t be a burden on the system”. But today he just sat in the car after all this and stared off into space, saying this is the worst treatment from a government agency he’s ever seen. They didn’t see us as people, we were numbers. That automated cancellation over an automated mistake would have put us on the street if my mother wasn’t in the picture and paying off $20,000 of dept out-of-pocket. And they just didn’t care. We made a mistake, yes, but it was a mistake that is in-line with the diagnostic criteria of one of my disabilities (forgetfulness from a brain injury) and we did everything we were supposed to do to make it right once I noticed. we fessed up and did what we needed to fix it, we got help from multiple staff members to ensure we did everything we were supposed to, but a machine made a mistake and nearly ruined our lives anyway.

Im not saying any of this to ask for money btw, I couldn’t accept it even if I wanted to because I’m pretty sure that would count as income too and would mean my pension would go down even more or just be cut (again) entirely. We’re safe and as stable as we could be in this situation for now. I just wanted to vent a bit and explain where I’ve been. I’m probably not going to be back online again for a bit while we get the rest of this situation sorted, and once I move to mum’s, so the messages and ask box are staying closed for a bit longer.

[cheeseatlantic]

how do you think characters from cod would react to you asking to talk about folklore to them? (Including graves and Alejandro please)

yesyes ofc queen ❤️ xx

ghost

he liked robin hood growing up, so he told you the tale. when you piss him off he tells you about banshees and scares you shitless.

soap

once you ask, he will never stop, he got way too excited. he took scotland forever seriously, he went on for THREE HOURS, until you fell asleep. he didn’t notice and then kept going… until he fell asleep too!! you got the loch ness monster, unicorn and his personal favourite? selkies.

gaz

unfortunately, he creeps you the fuck out with the bogeyman… piss him off? bogeyman. kiss him? bogeyman. ON THE TOILET? BOGEYMAN. the only other folklore he knows is taylor swift’s folklore…

price

well… this peepaw knows everything from the arthurian legends to the black shuck. he was as happy as a dad reading his child a bedtime story, except it was folklore!

graves

graves was basically all for scaring you shitless with myths; just so he could comfort you. #toxicchivalry… but he also did tell you some cool shit about texan folklore, you listened to him for hours. maybe stared at his pretty eyes and wasn’t listening but still!

alejandro

like soap, he was so proud to tell you about everything. wrapped his arms around you, got you all snug before he started with la llorona, el chupacabra and a whole bunch of others!!

rudy

same as alejandro but was more gentle with it in the sense that he’d tell you something what he thought to be scary and then followed up with a “remember, mi amor! it’s fake, don’t be scared.”

könig (unfortunately because he’s austrian and we want the diversity)

könig was sort of happy to tell you and to share his culture with you!! it was sweet, really. he made you some traditional food, and then got you bundled up and comfortable before he started and didn’t stop until you fell into a nice, peaceful sleep.

horangi

horangi didn’t mind telling you, he was patient when it came to answering your questions about korean folklore and told you his favourite tales, even got his mom to tell you some extras which you loved (his mom sent over a huge thing of kimchi afterwards because she thought you started to embrace korean culture)

makarov

makarov, literally sat down with you, wicked grin as he started, scared you and then soothed you, so he’d be like. “Oh yeah, that creature will eat your teeth.” “But don’t worry, i’ll shoot them like I did with Soap if it tries anything, malysh.”

tysm for being my first req!! ilysm babybell MWAHHHH 💗 (pls try to eat/drink something for me or your favourite characters!! xx)

[wombywoo]

i know you have probably been asked this so many times — but what brushes do you typically use? any helpful videos i can reference to get portraits and overall realism sketching down, maybe ones that you used starting out? or just.. tips overall?

artists like you and m0cktails really inspire me to try and pursue a different route with my art, one that was totally unexpected but pleasantly rewarding when i tried it out!!! you have a great eye for features and overall composition of a piece, i started being a fan due to your ghostsoap art but i honestly think ive started to like seeing your OCs too haha

please don’t feel pressured to answer i know i kind of asked a lot!!

Hey there! I've briefly reviewed some of the brushes I use in some posts here and here! For the most part, I stick to one standard brush, as well as the airbrush and some other 'effect' brushes as I need them. I'm a photoshop devotee, unfortunately 😔, so a lot of my process is futzing around with their admittedly stellar editing tools

Truthfully, I don't have any concrete tips or videos for this sort of thing. I started out as a pencil artist, doing more and more realistic portraits the better I got, and then eventually turned to digital art (a bit reluctantly) So a lot of that was just self-taught; finding my own way how to implement certain techniques, and amassing a foundation that would allow me to draw all the stuff in my brain, lol

As for advice--I'd say to learn how to evolve out of your comfort zone. It's good to know what type of style or subject matter you feel you're best at--this is a natural inclination most artists have, and it informs the pieces your mind wants to create. But try pushing the limits of what you think might be 'too tedious' or 'too advanced'. More often than not, the thing holding your art back is that gut instinct of 'I can't do this, so why bother trying'. I used to feel this way about hands (enemy of the state, confirmed) And yeah, the easy cop-out is to just shove them all in pockets or behind backs etc. But in learning how to overcome that obvious challenge, I grew to really appreciate the way a hand can shape a composition. In fact, I have to hand it to--💥 ✋

Anyway! My next bit of 'advice' would be to go absolutely bonkers nuts with references. Don't listen to any fraud or fool who says using references is cheating !!!!! They lie!!!!! I swear, my art only looks the way it does because I am a reference hound who spends hours and hours on google/pinterest/stock sites for the perfect angle of the perfect pose, just so I can relate it to the image I have in my head.

For realism--look at real stuff! This sounds dumb, but it helps. Start paying closer attention to people around you; their faces, the way the light accents certain things, unique features, etc. I'd suggest figure studies if that's something you're into (I don't do studies, personally, because I just jump into massive pieces and can't do anything simple 😅 welp) but it does help immensely to study humans in real life and try to translate that onto the page

So yeah. Tbh, the best method for improving art is to simply DO IT. And the fact that you're seeking out further advice and tips means that you have some motivation--so use it! Hope this helps <3

[scoobydoodean]

reading the notes makes me feel like im missing something about the plucky pennywhistle thing. like people are tagging it "me when i lie" "man i wish dean would tell the truth about his childhood" like. did he lie in the episode? im not saying he didnt i just. am confused. (also unless we are shown what happened, accusing dean or sam of lying about their childhood is presumption, because sam might've perceived it as "trolling for chicks" but maybe dean was hustling pool.

to be clear i do think dean was blowing off steam and flirting with girls because he was a teenager and probably was exhausted about being forced to parent his brother, but the fandom wiki could've also been remembering the fact that there's a mother in the episode who is dumping her kid at plucky's so she can work enough hours, and dean starts defending the mom, so the wiki author misremembered it as "he was working and told sam he was flirting" . reporting that as fact is Not a good idea for a fandom wiki but there's a weird obsession that sam and dean are ontologically liars or truth tellers when sam and dean lie all the time and might be reporting memories inaccurately, but they usually don't when it comes to their childhood.

like "dean did his best to parent sam despite being ill-equipped and a child" and "sam felt very lonely despite dean's persistent presence in his life and dean felt hurt when he found this out, despite this not being either of their faults" can both be true!

like sam literally lies In That Conversation because he doesn't wanna talk about plucky's! he literally says "no i don't remember it". and this is hilarious of him. he's trying to rewrite his own memory in real time i think.

Dean doesn’t seem to quite remember Plucky’s at first.

Likely because Dean really doesn’t remember, he also really doesn’t take offense to Sam’s version of events or argue with him at all? He accepts Sam’s version (that he hated Plucky’s) as soon as Sam says so.

Yeah, when Sam complains that Dean abandoned him there to troll for chicks, Dean says,

“It's not like I left you in jail. I mean, those places are supposed to be fun.”

But that isn’t a denial of how Sam actually felt about the place. It’s a (light-heartedly stated) defense of Dean’s own reasons for leaving him there. He thought it would be fun! If that wasn’t true, surely Dean would have left Sam at the motel and saved himself the time and cash, no? I think the fact that Dean thinks Sam liked it means Dean probably wasn’t paying attention to him at the time, caught up with his own stuff, but I don’t think it makes sense to assume anything other than that, and I think Dean is perfectly willing to accept that he wasn’t really paying attention to what Sam wanted.

Sam’s tone and the content of his complaints when telling Dean how he really felt about Plucky’s also isn’t exactly serious. He reports that Plucky’s was “lame”, “smelled like puke”, and served grainy ice cream. He’s not exactly bringing the real tragedy to the surface here (the kid at Plucky’s with the overworked mom is much more effective at exhibiting the misery of being trapped in a children’s arcade).

The thing is, Dean really isn’t defensive about any of this? He actually just thinks it’s funny. Laughing over the phone with Sam, he says, “What in the world did they do to you?” It’s honestly kind of refreshing that Dean really doesn’t beat himself up about it. Even in the end of the episode when Dean apologizes for ditching Sam, he’s laughing (and then pranks Sam with a clown doll). Maybe that’s what sets them off? That Dean doesn’t “care” enough? Unfortunately for them, Dean was also a child who deserved his own space and was not Sam’s dad.

Totally agree with you that there’s an underlying little narrative here about overworked parents and that a wiki shouldn’t make inferences. And also about Sam and Dean’s differing versions of childhood often making sense from their own perspectives. They can both be right about their own perception.

[ilovegeorgie]

Hello :) if you’re taking requests, do you think you could write an enemies to lovers George imagine? I haven’t seen many on here :( Any storyline would be great x

do you want to know a secret?

george harrison x reader

genre: angst (?

warnings: enemies to lovers i’m not sure what to put here :/

summary: so basically geo is kind of a prick in this one..

a/n: hiii :D ik there’s not much geo stuff here, so here it is, thanks for requesting and hope you’ll like it!! (i think this is the longest i’ve ever written lolll)

the first time they met, she thought he was the most enigmatic guy she’d ever seen. dark eyes, sort of quiet, and the kind of attitude that practically screamed he wasn’t interested in making new friends. unfortunately for her, her job as the studio’s secretary often meant running errands for him and the other beatles.

paul was the first to talk to her, always tossing her a cheeky grin and a “thanks, love,” whenever she fetched his tea. john cracked jokes at her, but she could dish it right back, and they quickly befriended. even ringo, had her laughing within days.

but george? that was another story.

whenever she entered the studio, it was like the air shifted. he’d stiffen, barely look at her, but after one particularly long day, when she accidentally spilled a bit of tea near his guitar case, he snapped.

“for christ’s sake, can’t you be more careful?!” he shouted, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

the room fell silent. paul looked up, john raised an eyebrow and ringo’s fingers stilled on his drumsticks.

her usual instinct would’ve been to fire back, like she usually did, but something about george’s tone hit a nerve. her lip wobbled, and before she could stop herself, tears pricked her eyes. she muttered something about needing a break and bolted out the door.

as she rushed down the hallway, her breath shallow as she tried to steady herself. her mind raced, replaying the moment over and over. why did he have to be so cruel? she knew that she didn’t deserve that. her head pounded with frustration, but all she could do was sit in her tiny office and try not to cry.

a few minutes later, the door creaked open, and she looked up to see paul leaning against the doorframe, with a more serious expression than usual.

“you alright, love?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of concern.

she wiped her eyes quickly, though the red flush on her cheeks was still evident. “i’ll be fine.”

“don’t let george get to you,” paul added, stepping into the room. “he’s got a bit of a temper, you know that.”

“i didn’t mean to upset him,” she muttered, a knot of guilt forming in her stomach. “i just… i didn’t expect him to go off like that. not over something so ridiculous.”

paul frowned, crossing the room to sit on the edge of her desk. “it’s not you, really. he’s just… he’s got his own stuff going on. doesn’t make it okay, though.”

she shook her head, trying to brush it off. “i don’t want to make a scene.”

“you won’t,” paul reassured her. “but you don’t have to take his shit either. he’ll come around. he always does, eventually. george just doesn’t know how to deal with people sometimes, especially girls you know?.” she chuckled, even though the sting of george’s words still lingered.

back in the studio, the tension in the room was palpable. george, was immersed in his own world, visibly avoiding everyone’s gaze. john was leaning casually against the piano, his eyes flicking between george and the door she’d just exited.

“nice going, george,” john muttered with a smirk. “you really know how to make a pretty bird cry.”

george’s face flushed with irritation, his fingers stilling on his guitar. “i didn’t mean to-”

“doesn’t matter what you meant, mate,” john interrupted, his tone suddenly sharper. “you’ve got to be a little more careful with your words. not everyone’s gonna take it the way you want.”

ringo, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke up. “yeah, george, that was a bit much, don’t you think?.”

george clenched his jaw, clearly uncomfortable. “i just-”

“you just need to chill out,” john said, cutting him off. “honestly, i don’t know what your problem is with her. she’s done nothing but help, and you’ve been a right arse to her.”

a heavy silence followed. george stared at the floor, his fingers nervously tapping on the guitar’s frets.

...

she had returned to the room, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, she could hear the conversation inside. paul had said george would come around, but did she want him to? the harshness he’d shown her still felt raw, and despite paul’s comforting words, the last thing she wanted was to be the target of his irritation again.

george looked up, his eyes locking with hers for the first time since the incident. she could see the apology there, though it was still buried beneath his stubborn exterior. he stood up from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he walked toward her.

“i’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “i know i shouldn’t have snapped like that. it wasn’t your fault.”

she didn’t respond right away, the anger and hurt still simmering inside her. “no,” she said quietly, “but it was your attitude.”

“i know.” his voice softened. “i’ve been a bit of a prick, haven’t i?”

she didn’t smile, but the edge in her chest loosened slightly. “a bit.”

he exhaled a frustrated breath and looked at her, his eyes earnest. “i really am sorry. i don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

there was a long, awkward silence between them. he was waiting for her response, but she wasn’t sure what to say. there was still a part of her that wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much he had hurt her. but another part of her, the part paul had helped her recognize, understood that this was george’s way of trying to make things right.

she then nodded. “alright,” she said, keeping her tone cool. “but next time, try not to yell at me over tea.”

george gave her a half-smile, though it was tinged with regret. “next time, i’ll keep my cool.”

…

the next few days were strange. it was as if the tension between her and george had turned into an invisible wall, one that neither of them wanted to acknowledge but both could feel. whenever she walked into the studio, he would avoid her gaze, as though he was afraid to engage too much. it was like things were back to normal.

the silence between them, the coldness, left her with a sense of unease that tortured her. paul and john had noticed it, of course.

“george,” john called out one day with a grin. “you’re giving her the cold shoulder, mate. what’s wrong? didn’t you guys reconcileated or something?”

george’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t respond. instead, he focused on tuning his guitar, the only sound in the room the sharp clicking of the tuning pegs. john snorted, nudging paul, who only shrugged, clearly unsure of what was going on.

ringo, strangely, wasn’t laughing or joking about it. he noticed the change too, and though he didn’t say much, the way his gaze lingered on george said everything.

and for her, she hated it. every time she entered the room, she was aware of george’s avoidance. he’d give her a half-hearted nod or mutter a quiet, “alright,” but it was all surface-level. it was like he regretted everything he'd said, like he couldn’t bring himself to make amends properly.

it was getting to her. she had never been one to sit in discomfort, and now she found herself practically pacing in the corridors, waiting for an opportunity to confront him.

and that opportunity came one morning, a few days after the incident.

she was walking into the studio with a stack of papers in her hands, ready to pass them off to paul, when she noticed george at the far end of the room. his back was turned, his guitar slung over his shoulder, and he was staring out the window, lost in thought, or at least pretending to be.

“george,” she called.

he stiffened at the sound of her voice, but didn’t turn around. he knew she was there; he always did.

“george,” she repeated, stepping closer, “we need to talk, now.”

there was a long pause, the silence between them hanging thick. he didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but his shoulders were tense. after what felt like an eternity, he spoke without turning to face her.

“what’s there to talk about?” his voice was quiet, almost dismissive.

she bit back the sharp response that immediately came to mind. she had no intention of backing down now. “why are you avoiding me?”.

he was silent for a long time, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer at all. but then, in a voice so low she almost couldn’t hear it, he said, “i don’t know how to fix this. i’ve... made a mess of things.”

her stomach twisted at the vulnerability in his words, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “you’re not going to fix anything by pretending i don’t exist.”

george sighed and finally turned to face her. “i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice more sincere than ever. “i really didn’t. i... i don’t know how to explain it.”

“explain what?” she asked, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “explain why you snapped at me over something so small? or explain why you’ve been avoiding me since? because, trust me, it’s not helping.”

he ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted, like he was struggling to put his feelings into words. “i didn’t want to-” he stopped, took a breath, and then finally, “i didn’t want to make you think i like you.”

her brow furrowed in confusion. “what.. what do you mean?”

“i’m not good with this kind of things,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought if i kept my distance, it would be easier. but it’s been hell, alright? i was scared” he paused, visibly frustrated with himself.

she blinked, for a long time, she had only seen george as the distant, guarded man who kept his emotions close to the chest. she never realized just how much he struggled with it all.

“you... you’ve been avoiding me because you’re scared?” she asked, her voice softer now, the anger slowly fading.

“what im trying to say is..,” his gaze dropped to the floor. “i know it sounds ridiculous, but the truth is that i like you. a lot. have done for ages.. i didn’t know how to deal with it. i didn’t want to make things more complicated than they already were.”

a heavy silence hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken words. she could see the fear that he had been hiding beneath the surface now. fear of rejection, of making things worse, of crossing a line he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross.

she let out a slow breath, her chest tightening. “george, i'm not some fragile thing you have to avoid. if you’ve got a problem with me, just talk to me about it. you don’t have to shut me out.”

he looked down at her, his expression softening. “i didn’t want to hurt you.. i’d like to make it up to you. if you’ll let me.”

“you did hurt me,” she replied. “i suppose we can figure it out..”

for a long moment, they simply stood there, and finally, george nodded. “i’ll try. i promise.”

she met his gaze, and for the first time in days, the wall between them seemed to crack, even if only slightly. “well,” she said, offering him a small but genuine smile. “i suppose i can give you another chance.”

[kathlare]

fault lines

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: During a family dinner in New York, Amelie’s brief respite from her demanding career is disrupted by an unexpected revelation.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

May 8th, 2023 - New York City, NY

The warm hum of conversation filled the small, upscale restaurant tucked in the heart of New York City. Amelie sat between her brother Callum and her father, Elias, the gentle buzz of her family’s chatter offering a temporary reprieve from the overwhelming pressure of her tour. The past few months had been a whirlwind of sold-out shows, sleepless nights, and long flights, but tonight was a rare moment of respite. Her parents, siblings, and Checo had flown in from Miami, fresh off the Grand Prix, to watch her perform live.

The dinner was supposed to be relaxed, a celebration of family and Amelie’s success, but she couldn’t shake the unease that had been sitting in her chest all day. Perhaps it was exhaustion or the growing distance between her and Rodrigo, who was still in Spain training for the upcoming season.

Her mother’s hand on hers brought her out of her thoughts.

—You’ve been quiet tonight, mi amor,— Victoria said, her eyes warm and full of concern. —Is everything okay?—

Amelie gave her a small smile, forcing herself to push the worries aside. —Just tired, Mamá. Touring’s catching up to me.—

Her father nodded knowingly. —You’ve been working too hard. But at least now you’ve got us here. We’re not leaving until we’ve embarrassed you by crying in the front row.—

—Papá,— she groaned, though her lips curled into a genuine smile this time.

Checo, sitting across from her with Stella by his side, chimed in. —I’m just here to tell everyone backstage that I’m your favorite brother-in-law. Gotta keep my title.—

—You’re my only brother-in-law,— Amelie shot back playfully, though the warmth in her tone made everyone chuckle.

As plates of food were set down in front of them, Jack leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. "Speaking of titles, I think I’m officially the worst golfer in the family now."

—What?— Elysia said, narrowing her eyes at her twin. —Since when are you even considered a golfer?—

—Since last week,— Jack replied, his grin growing wider. —Got invited to play in Miami with Dad, Zak Brown, and some other guys. It was a disaster.—

Amelie’s head snapped up at the mention of McLaren, her chest tightening instinctively. —Wait, Zak Brown? As in… McLaren’s Zak Brown?—

Jack nodded, smirking as he reached for his drink. —The one and only. Don’t get too excited, though. He wasn’t there to see me. It was all Dad’s thing. Apparently, they’re buddies now.—

Elias chuckled, clearly amused by the memory. —He’s a good guy. Knows his stuff about motorsports, that’s for sure. Though I’m pretty sure he was regretting inviting me after the third hole. My swing’s gone to hell.—

—Hold up,— Amelie interrupted, her brows furrowing. —What exactly were you doing playing golf with Zak Brown?—

—Oh, it was just a casual thing,— Elias said, waving a hand dismissively. —Some McLaren sponsors were there too. I didn’t want to go, but Zak insisted.—

—Yeah, it was casual until he showed up,— Jack cut in, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. —Your boy Lando. You should’ve seen it, Amelie. It was like watching a soap opera. Dad looked like he wanted to throttle him.—

The air around the table shifted immediately. The lighthearted atmosphere that had filled the room moments earlier evaporated as quickly as it had come, replaced by a palpable tension. Amelie’s heart dropped at the mention of his name, her fork freezing midway to her mouth.

—Lando?— she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

Elias’ jaw clenched ever so slightly, his expression darkening. —He happened to be there, unfortunately. I wasn’t particularly thrilled about it.—

Checo exchanged a glance with Stella, his lips pressing into a thin line as he silently reached for his glass of water. He knew better than to say anything yet.

Jack, oblivious to the growing discomfort, leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. —Not thrilled? That’s putting it lightly. Dad practically gave the guy a death stare the entire day. If looks could kill, I don’t think he’d have made it past the ninth hole.—

—Jack,— Stella hissed, giving him a warning glare.

But Amelie wasn’t looking at Jack anymore. Her focus had shifted entirely to her father. —What happened?— she asked, her voice steady despite the storm swirling inside her.

Elias sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. —It’s nothing, princesa. Just an unpleasant surprise seeing him there, that’s all. I might’ve said a few things to let him know he wasn’t welcome.—

Amelie’s stomach churned. She didn’t need details to fill in the blanks. Elias was fiercely protective of her—always had been—and she could only imagine what kind of indirect jabs he’d thrown at Lando. The thought made her chest tighten uncomfortably.

—A few things?— Jack snorted. —Dad basically told him to stay the hell away from you. Oh, and then he threw in something about him breaking your heart. You should’ve seen Lando’s face. I almost felt bad for the guy.—

—Jack!— Victoria snapped, her tone sharp. —That’s enough.—

But Amelie barely heard her. Her mind was spinning, the room suddenly feeling too warm. She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter, pushing it away as she leaned back in her chair.

—Amor,— her mother said softly, her hand reaching for hers again. —Don’t let this upset you. Your father was just being protective.—

—Protective?— Amelie repeated, her voice rising slightly. —Papá, what were you even thinking? I told you months ago that Lando and I were done. We’re nothing to each other anymore.—

Elias frowned, his expression softening as he looked at her. —You may think that, but I know better. I know how much he hurt you, Amelie. And if you think I’m going to stand by and pretend everything’s fine when I see him acting like nothing happened, you’re wrong. He doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you.—

Amelie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t want to have this conversation here—not in front of her entire family, not in the middle of a crowded restaurant. But the damage was already done.

—What exactly did you say to him?— she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias hesitated, glancing at Stella, who gave him a subtle shake of her head as if to warn him against saying too much. But Jack, of course, had no such reservations.

—Oh, you know, the usual dad stuff,— Jack said, smirking. —“Stay away from my daughter,” “You broke her heart,” “You’ll never be good enough for her,” blah, blah, blah.—

—Jack, for God’s sake!— Stella snapped, clearly fed up with his antics.

But Amelie didn’t react to Jack’s teasing. Her eyes were fixed on her father, searching his face for any hint of regret or remorse. She didn’t find any.

—You had no right,— she said finally, her voice trembling with barely contained frustration. —Papá, this is my life. My past. Not yours. You can’t just... just insert yourself into it like that.—

—Amelie,— Elias began, but she cut him off.

—No. You don’t get to do this. Not anymore.— She pushed her chair back, the sound grating against the floor as she stood. —Excuse me.—

She didn’t wait for anyone to respond. Grabbing her bag, she turned and walked briskly toward the exit, ignoring the concerned voices calling after her.

As the door swung shut behind her, the cool evening air hit her like a slap to the face. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her, but it was no use. The weight of everything—her father’s overprotectiveness, Lando’s lingering presence in her life, the distance growing between her and Rodrigo—was suffocating.

She leaned against the side of the building, closing her eyes and letting the noise of the city wash over her. But even then, she couldn’t escape it. The memories. The what-ifs. The lingering ache of a love she’d tried so hard to forget.

And the worst part? A small, stubborn part of her knew her father wasn’t entirely wrong.

[2nd2ndalto]

nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

Part 2! Editing and re-editing this took so much longer than it should have. Never underestimate my ability to create plot holes in something that barely has a plot, I guess.

__

Chapter 2

(chapter 1 here)

Nico goes very, very pale. “What – what does that mean?”

Will knows Nico well enough to be able to recognize that he’s trying very hard to keep it together. Will also knows Nico well enough to see that he’s terrified.

Maybe Will’s wrong about the pollen, though. Could he be? Almost scared to try, he holds a hand out in front of him, tries to feel his way into his powers, to summon any semblance of a glow.

Fuck. Nothing. It feels like a spent muscle, drained and useless.

Will steels himself. He's had some experience delivering bad medical news, unfortunately. He tries to ignore the way his whole body feels like a live wire, fizzing. “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the original Star Trek series?” he asks.

Nico just blinks.

“I think it was the first reference to – sex pollen. In modern media. There’s an episode where the crew of The Enterprise visits a planet where all the inhabitants are mysteriously in perfect health and in perpetual – bliss. They discover these spores. Which are like an – aphrodisiac,” Will says haltingly.

“An aphrodisiac?” Nico says weakly.

“Yeah. And this – substance. That we inhaled. It has similar effects. Aphrodisiac effects.”

Nico hasn’t taken his eyes off Will for a single second, clearly fighting to make sense of all this. Likely trying to come up with a way out, any available loophole.

“So what do we do?” Nico whispers. “How do we – how long does it last?” He’s still sitting just inches away, all tense and… warm.

The level of attraction Will’s feeling towards his friend is off the charts, incredibly distracting. If he swayed forward just a few inches, he’d be able to feel Nico’s hot breath on his skin, press his mouth to the square line of Nico’s stubbled jaw… And gods, the way Nico’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, how much Will wants to bite them –

“Will?” Nico sounds just on the edge of panic, and that’s enough to snap Will back to reality for a second. Because yes, he’s feeling all these things for Nico, but there’s absolutely no reason to think that Nico might have the same feelings in return, Will reminds himself firmly, trying to cling to the little bits of sanity and logic he’s still able to access.

“It’s nothing I’ve studied extensively,” Will says. “But from what I remember, the effects should last about twelve hours, depending on the dose. And we both got a good faceful.”

“Twelve hours.” Nico sounds breathless. “But we can’t – can’t you do something? Or – or I can shadow travel us out of here – the hospital in New Rome –”

Will swallows. “You won’t be able to. The spores disable your powers. I just tried to use mine, and – there’s nothing there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean – you could try.”

Will knows better than anyone that Nico’s physiology can be unpredictable. He remembers unicorn draught. A flash in his mind: Nico’s hand, slipping right through his, no substance to it. Will’s stomach still churns with the memory.

Nico stills, closes his eyes. The tension rising in his body is almost tangible, a string pulled tighter and tighter –

“Fuck. Fuck.” He sags, drops his head to his hands.

“Yeah,” Will breathes, bleak agreement. “And the symptoms – are pretty much everything you’d imagine that would go along with heightened sexual arousal,” he says, forcing himself to relay this information as clinically as possible. “So, like –”

“It’s okay,” Nico interrupts. “You don’t have to – I think I can figure it out.”

Will’s eyes settle Nico’s leather-clad back, heaving with his breath. What a fucking mess.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault,” Will says.

“No, Will.” Nico sits up. He’s flushed, glowing – and okay, it’s probably sweat, actually, but he’s incredibly, breathtakingly gorgeous. And he’s looking at Will with so much care and sympathy. “It’s really not your fault.”

“It was my idea to open the urn,” Will says, guilt burning in his chest. He can almost never stop the impulse. “I – I should have remembered about the spores. Because I can’t do anything about it now, but maybe I could have, if I’d caught it sooner, if I’d remembered –”

“No, stop that,” Nico says, stern, intimately familiar with Will’s spiralling thought processes. “It’s not your fault. And anyway it’s – it’s not a big deal, right? We’ve been through worse.”

It makes Will’s throat go tight, the way Nico can pivot so quickly, the way he just decides we can do this, because he knows that’s what Will needs to hear.

Will wants so badly to give him the same reassurance in return. “Maybe – let me try,” he says. “To see if I can do anything to help. I tried to summon a glow a few minutes ago, and it didn’t work, but –” he offers a hand to Nico. Nico takes it, automatic.

Will closes his eyes and tries to push the arousal from his brain, tries to gather the threads in his mind that can reach out and feel. Feeling Nico is normally second nature, easy as breathing. Will tries. And tries.

He drops Nico’s hand, frustrated. It aches, letting go, and Nico clearly feels it too, letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck. I’ve got nothing,” Will says. He’s sweating even harder now, a trickle of it down his back. “It’s like everything’s blocked. Like all my powers are behind a locked door, and I just – can’t.

“It felt like it was working for a second,” Nico says, shaky. “When you were – holding my hand. I felt like – like everything kind of – settled.”

Will gazes at Nico, forcing his brain to work through the problem, consider the facts of the matter. Gods it’s so much more difficult than it should be. Everything feels like swimming through mud, dense and blinding. But – “the spores – they want skin-to-skin contact, right? So that’s got to help ease the effects, somehow,” Will says slowly. Does that make sense? He thinks it makes sense.

“So can we – is it okay if we – hold hands?” Nico asks, awkward.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’ll be a blessing, if that’s all it takes. Will reaches for Nico’s hand, linking their fingers together. The relief is immediate, like a balm. A sudden breeze on a sweltering summer day.

“Oh, that’s –” Will breathes.

“Better, yeah,” Nico sighs. He closes his eyes and there’s a long moment of quiet, the two of them sitting side by side on Will’s bed. There’s the slam of a door somewhere down the hallway, and the ding of the elevator. But it suddenly feels as if everything’s muted, like anything taking place beyond the two of them is inconsequential.

“So what do we do now?” Nico murmurs. “Just – sit here holding hands for twelve hours?”

“We can,” Will says, just as soft. The comfort is almost overwhelming. Feeling Nico’s vital energy has always been calming. And though Will can’t actually do that at the moment, this is an awfully good substitute. The arousal hasn’t abated in the slightest, boiling heat in his veins, but Nico’s nearness is making everything fuzzy at the edges. Soft and floaty. Will can feel his heart rate slowing, his shoulders relaxing.

“It’s nice,” Nico says. For a second Will thinks he means to say more, but then they just fall into silence again, heat and breath.

How many other times have they sat together like this, in soft conversation or in silence, just taking comfort in each other? How many times have Will’s worries and problems culminated in just this: the two of them quiet, together. The reassurance that Nico knows him like no one else does. And that he’s going stay, no matter what else changes in their lives.

“I can probably do this for twelve hours,” Nico says. He sounds so much calmer now. “I mean, it wasn’t how I planned to spend the evening. But it’s always nice hanging out with you.” He squeezes Will’s hand and the feeling of it tingles all over Will’s body, sparking to his fingers and his toes. And his dick.

Shit.

Will takes a deep breath, lets it out slow, measured.

He's been doing his best not to focus on it, but he’s very, very hard. And the longer they sit here in quiet, the more he’s extremely aware of the throbbing ache in his groin. He shifts, just slightly.

Quiet again.

“You okay?” Nico asks.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m hanging in there,” Will says. But it’s starting to feel… less good.

“How long do you think it’s been since we opened the urn?” Nico asks. “Maybe an hour?”

“Maybe?” Will opens his eyes to check his watch. “Yeah. Almost.” He shifts again. “I – I’m getting a little uncomfortable,” he admits.

“Oh. From sitting?” Nico asks. He turns to look at Will, and gods Will needs to kiss him. He needs to. A tip of their heads and they’d be close enough, Will’s fingers winding in dark hair, and Nico’s lips would part –

Will pulls his hand away and stands, abrupt. Nico lets out a soft sound of protest, swaying towards Will for a moment before sitting back again, looking adorably disappointed.

And what if… what if Will could kiss that look right off his face?

Will presses both hands over his eyes. Gods, he’s got to get it together. This hotel room is so fucking small. “I – I think it wants – more,” he says.

“What?” Nico says. At least his voice doesn’t come closer. Will doesn’t think he could take it.

“The spores,” Will grits out. “It – the physical contact. It’s – rewarding. In the short term. But then the spores want more. More contact. More – skin.”

“Oh –”

“So holding hands isn’t enough. After a while.”

“So what do we do?” Nico asks. He looks more uncomfortable now too, awkwardly shifting his hips like maybe his jeans are too tight. And for the first time Will’s exquisitely aware that Nico’s likely just as hard as he is, just a few feet and a couple of layers of fabric away. And maybe that shouldn’t be such an enormous jolt to his system, but it is. Will groans.

“Will –” Nico stands, reaches out, then takes a step back, looking desperately unsure.

Gods, this is the fucking worst. How on earth are they supposed to endure eleven more hours of this? Now that they’re not touching anymore, it’s as if every outside sensation is amplified in a way that makes Will want to crawl out of his skin. The soft light from the bedside lamps is too bright and the quiet murmur of the TV in the next room is deafening. Most of all, the ache in his groin is superseding all his other, more sensible thought processes. He’s desperate to take the few steps into Nico’s space, take Nico’s face in his hands and –

He’s your friend he’s your friend he’s your friend, Will chants internally.

“We – we can – it wants us to… reproduce,” Will manages. “That’s the only way to nullify it. Without waiting for the effects to wear off.”

Nico laughs, bleak. “It wants – Will, you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight and there still wouldn’t be any reproduction.”

And suddenly all Will’s stupid, stupid brain can hear is you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Will very carefully does not look at Nico. His friend. “It – I think it’s happy with – with an orgasm,” he says, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I don’t think there would be any way for it to determine whether there was actual – you know. Mating.”

A long silence, Will focusing determinedly on the swirly pattern of the carpet at his feet.

“And – couldn’t we satisfy that requirement – separately?” Nico asks in a small voice.

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Not the way these processes usually work.”

“So the only way to finish this sooner would be –”

“Yeah,” Will whispers. He finally looks up.

The expression on Nico’s face is heartbreaking. Aching and conflicted. Nico opens his mouth. Closes it again.

“Obviously we don’t have to,” Will rushes to say. “There’s no – it won’t hurt us. Physically. To wait it out. There wouldn’t be any long-term effects.”

“It’s just – you’re my friend, Will. You’re my best friend,” Nico whispers.

Will feels tears spring to his eyes and gods, he wants so badly to close the distance between them, drag Nico him into a hug.

Tensing every muscle in his body, he stays where he is. “You’re my best friend, too,” he says, his voice rough.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do. If I lost you,” Nico says. He sounds so sure, so earnest, even with his breath quickened, pupils blown wide.

“It’s okay,” Will croaks. “I get it. I know.”

Then, unthinking, because the itch is just so powerful, Will presses the heel of his hand to his aching dick, desperate for just a second of relief.

Nico’s eyes follow the motion and he takes in a soft gasp. “Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers, looking away.

Will’s eyes go wide. “No, I’m sorry –”

“I – I think I’m gonna take a shower. I just – I need a minute. And obviously we’re not leaving again tonight, so I might as well change into pjs.” Nico says all this very quickly. He turns jerkily, rummages in his backpack for a second and practically runs into the bathroom.

Will sinks to the couch in the corner. He leans back. Closes his eyes. He hears the bathroom door close, the click of the lock.

He wonders if Nico is going to attempt to take care of things on his own in there.

Oh gods, of course he is.

Will supposes he could do the same, while he’s got a few minutes of privacy. After all, he can’t think of any reason it would make things worse. But instead he sits very, very still. Breathes.

Finally, the bathroom door opens. Nico, clad in a band tee and sweats now, emerges in a cloud of steam. Will gives him a questioning look.

“Didn’t work,” Nico says shortly.

(chapter 3 here)

__

thanks again to @rosyredlipstick for the beta!! <3

[grmpgm]

[lygma-nygma]

Thinking about writing a fic where a “post getting kicked off of robin” Tim actually gives in and says yes to Jason pressuring him to become his sidekick.

But instead of being super angsty or dark Tim decides the best way to get his “revenge” is to become a plague on Richard John Grayson’s home. Mainly, Titans Tower.

This culminates with Jason, Tim, and Steph getting a bunch of their friends together and making their own team (led by Cassie and Jason) called ‘The EVIL Teen Titans.’ They’re just like the normal titans when it comes to saving people and stuff, it’s just that sometimes they decided to attack Titans Tower for their own enrichment.

Basically they’ve become the Titans own Injustice League. Except they’re not actually trying to kill the Titans off, they just get into fights with them. In fact some members of the JL are even encouraging this. After all the regular attacks help the Titans pinpoint holes in their defences.

Dick has never been more tired.

[fierykitten2]

Funny thing I realised earlier: the UK elections this year happened on America’s fireworks day (independence day) and the US elections this year are happening on Britain’s fireworks day (Guy Fawkes day)