#how to stay alive in 2020

[astonmartinii]

you're (govern)mental

pairing: alex albon x fem prime minister’s daughter reader

there’s a new family in downing street, the home of british politics, but one member prefers the home of british motorsports.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

autosport

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tagged: yourusername

autosport: there’s a new family in ten downing street, and rumour says they’re big motorsport fans

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user1: deadass are we going to get the prime minister at an f1 race

user2: spending tax payer money on the prime minister watching lando norris bin it turn one at silverstone?

user3: valid imo

landonorris: omg royalty loves us ???

user4: stay in school kids

georgerussell63: lando surely you know the prime minister is not in the royal family

landonorris: there was an election?

alexalbon: we helped you fill out your postal vote?

landonorris: i thought that was my tax form

georgerussell63: we did help you with that as well

alexalbon: we live in monaco?

alexalbon: real question - how are you still alive?

oscarpiastri: i ask myself that everyday

landonorris: is it national bully lando day today?

user5: that’s everyday for user5

user6: is now a good time to confess that me and y/n y/ln used to be f1 twt mutuals

user7: excuse me?

user8: holy lore drop

user9: please tell us who she roots for

user5: let’s just say she was in the trenches for a certain red bull driver in 2020

user10: alex albon stan? her dad has my vote next election

user11: that’s not a good reason to vote?

user12: a better reason that some others lmao

olliebearman: DO I GET TO GO TO DOWNING STREET?

kimiantonelli: i don’t think that’s how that works

olliebearman: well if y/n y/ln likes f1 then she has to like me right?

kimiantonelli: okay mr big head

yourusername: i saw your sprint win at silverstone kimi, very impressive

kimiantonelli: SUCK ON THAT OLLIE

olliebearman: not fair I’M THE BRIT

user13: the prime minister’s daughter mediating a fight between rookies?

user14: oh baby she’s instigating

yourusername: also for all interested - i will be paying for my own ticket and transport for any race i go to! i’m a big girl with a big girl job, i pay my taxes and not yours

user15: omg queen

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 569,023 others

tagged: williamsf1

alexalbon: so happy to announce that i’ve extended my contract at williams, you can't get rid of me that easily

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user16: we won

user17: suicide CANCELLED

user18: *postponed just in case the williams isn’t any good

yourusername: woooooooooo 🥳 let’s go alex!!!

alexalbon: why thank you ma’am

yourusername: you don’t have to call me ma’am alex

yourusername: in fact it makes me feel quite old

alexalbon: can i call you mine instead?

yourusename: 😊

user19: what on earth just happened?

user20: chat are we seeing this

user21: hold on, let me get my notepad out

maxverstappen1: happy for you brother! hopefully you’ll be back up near the front this season

alexalbon: thank you max

maxverstappen1: okay now that’s out of the way

alexalbon: ???

maxverstappen1: what the fuck is happening in this comment section sir?

alexalbon: what?

maxverstappen1: you’re not seriously flirting with the prime minister’s daughter?

alexalbon: trust the process

maxverstappen1: is he going to get himself put on a list?

user22: how has this celebratory post descended into alex albon being put on a government watch list

yourusername: i can assure you the only watch list alex is being put on is my own personal one

user23: can she say that?

user24: well we definitely don’t doubt she runs her own instagram now

landonorris: i have many tiktok edits saved of alex if you want me to send them to you

user25: okay now that’s a comment that gets you put on a watch list

landonorris: i am just trying to be a good friend!!!!

georgerussell63: i am electing to ignore the mess in this comment section as we will go through it slide by slide over dinner tomorrow, but congrats alex, williams are lucky to have you

alexalbon: what if i’m not free tomorrow?

georgerussell63: what do you mean? we ALWAYS have dinner together on tuesdays :(

alexalbon: maybe i am busy?

yourusername: hhehehehehe

this comment was deleted

user26: she got sniped by the uk government lol

georgerussell63: good.

alexalbon: ???

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,577 others

yourusername: back in the big smoke but still a busy woman

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user27: does that include being busy with a certain tall, handsome, funny and charming thai formula one driver who races for williams

user28: you know she’s got like a big deal job

user29: alex albon is a bigger deal (idk what she does)

user30: part time editor in chief full time alex albon enjoyer

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63: if that is the bottomless lasange spot in bank we will be having serious problems

yourusername: are you threatening me?

georgerussell63: i’m telling you to BACK OFF

yourusername: @carmenmundt are you seeing this nonsense?

carmenmundt: i just have to let him get it out, all these formula one boys have strange attachments to each other

georgerussell63: I DON’T HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES - ALEX IS MINE

alexalbon: do i get a say in this?

georgerussell63: we shared a throat infection? i can’t believe you’d just cast me aside after that 😞

yourusername: george you are rich enough for therapy, please get some

user31: i came here to appreciate the outfits and have seen people absolutely throwing hands with y/n in this comment section

user31: they’re all verified?

user31: THEY’RE FORMULA ONE DRIVERS?

lewishamilton: they’re really making us look bad in front of the wrong people

alexalbon: please do not rope me into this

yourusername: can you send me toto’s number, i have a complaint to make

georgerussell63: ALEX DON’T LET HER CALL MY BOSS

alexalbon: she’s not calling toto

georgerussell63: oh good

alexalbon: WE are

georgerussell63: i will never forget this

yourusername: i can live with that

user32: also this joking about alex’s flirting getting him on a watchlist but it’s george who might be fucked?

landonorris: @yourusername hey if you come to a race will MI6 kill george?

georgerussell63: why would you ask this?

landonorris: curious…

yourusername: you guys know i don’t have command of like all security in britain right?

alexalbon: and who needs that when i’m right here?

yourusername: exactly

kimiantonelli: george has told me to inform you all he’s going on a social media detox because of your ‘negativity’ and wants to make sure you feel bad

kimiantonelli: no don’t put the end bit

kimiantonelli: stop

kimiantonelli: no i don’t want to tell them to feel bad they should just feel bad

kimiantonelli: why is it still commenting

kimiantonelli: it’s writing what you told it?

kimiantonelli: why are you using text to speech?

kimiantonelli: HAS IT COMMENTED ALL OF THIS

yourusername: how are you people trusted with formula one cars

f1

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f1: the first race of the season is here and we’ve got company!

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user33: someone check on george

user34: i know it was confirmed by them and the literal UK government but holy hard launch

user35: the people have yearned for a real f1 power couple

kimiantonelli: @georgerussell63 look who’s here!

georgerussell63: do you mind?

kimiantonelli: oooooooh you’re so angry she destroyed your homoerotic friendship you’re getting alex withdrawls - you want to let me past

georgerussell63: STAY BACK

kimiantonelli: worth a try

georgerussell63: just you wait until someone worms their way between you and ollie

georgerussell63: then you’ll know how it feels

user36: so how long until alex gets to become a sir

user37: points i think!

yourusername: i think we need bigger stakes than that

user38: TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

user39: ARE WILLIAMS COOKING?

williamsf1: why bother trying to create hype when we can just leave it to y/n

user40: @yourusername if alex gets a win can we declare it a national holiday?

yourusername: i don’t think you guys know how the british government works

yourusername: my dad is prime minister i am not the queen

alexalbon: you’re my queen

landonorris: take this shit elsewhere some of here are lactose intolerant

user41: 2025 is just a simulation at this point

user42: i’m honestly scared at this point

yourusername: thank you for welcoming me to the paddock, i’m so excited to see alex kill it this weekend!

alexalbon: can’t wait to show you what i’m good at

yourusername: you’re good at a lot of things…

landonorris: NOT PARKING

yourusername: that’s not what i was talking about

landonorris: well i can guarantee i am better than alex at whatever it is

alexalbon: i don’t think so and thankfully we’ll never know

landonorris: nuh uh i challenge you

yourusername: ABSOLUTELY NOT

oscarpiastri: btw he has no idea what you’re referencign and is unaware he’s challenging alex to a bedroom activities competition

landonorris: WHAT

alexalbon

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alexalbon: best finish ever for williams, got to show off my day job to my lady and gained the prime minister as my dad - do NOT fuck with me on track or you’ll be arrested on entry at silverstone

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user43: alex albon you have to stop, your swag too good and your girl too pretty THEY’LL KILL YOU ALEX ALBON

user44: red bull knew, they tried to clip his wings

yourusername: alex… we can’t do that

alexalbon: so you don’t love me?

yourusername: i do love you, but that’s not how the government works…

georgerussell63: LOVE ???

georgerussell63: wait i’ll let you guys have your moment (begrudgingly)

yourusername: thanks?

alexalbon: i love you too 🥰

yourusername: you going to let me buy you a drink pretty boy?

alexalbon: only if you let me buy you one right back my gorgeous girl

yourusername: what a gentleman

alexalbon: well i’d do anything for you sooooooo

yourusername: right back at you handsome

user45: is george seeing sense for once

user46: i think it’s the podium haze that knocked him out of his psychosis

user47: he needs to donate his brain to science when he dies

albon_pets: sooooo when do we get to meet larry?

maxverstappen1: always asking the right questions - can my pets come too?

user45: i love how everyone else has lost their minds and max is trying to organise a meet up with the downing street cat

user46: i’d argue he’s gone just as insane, he’s talking to alex pretending to be his cats

lewishamilton: there’s nothing wrong with that!

user47: god i have seen what you have done for others

user48: @alexalbon how did you pull it off?

yourusername: more like how did i pull it off

alexalbon: nuh uh you’re the prize here

yourusername: how bout you get on the podium and be my actual trophy husband

alexalbon: @ everyone watch ur backs in china

yourusername: when he’s determined 😮‍💨

alexalbon: well i got you didn’t i?

yourusername: you’re mental pretty boy

alexalbon: you could say i’m govern-mental

alexalbon: am i right?

alexalbon: i think i have a chance in comedy, right?

yourusername: sure!

georgerussell63: she doesn’t believe in you like i do alex…

yourusername: SHUT UP

fin.

note: yes, yes two alex fics in two days but P5? ummm yep that needs to be celebrated!!

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi, Sorry for bothering you but I just read your stories, and they are wonderful. Do you mind me asking if you post these on any of the reading websites? Like Archive or Wattpad. Also I have a prompt for you if you would mind to please write a story on this at your convenience. Its Max with his daughter Eloise (I just created this name here) and well if you could write angst, anything like but a bit angsty. If you cant then no problems at all. I have a fluff one as well, Lando being a young father hiding his daughter till his first win in 2024. He got his daughter at an young age like in 2020. And he is a single father.

I hope you didnt offend by any of my words, and if I did I am sorry. It was unintentional. Hope you have a nice day. ✨

Lando's daughter?!

Lando never thought his life would change so drastically at twenty-one. One day, he was a rising star in Formula 1—barely an adult, living his dream, and surrounded by fans who hung on to his every word. The next, he was holding a squirming, pink-faced newborn in his arms, her tiny fingers curled around one of his. His daughter. Yn.

He still remembered the weight of that moment. The sheer panic flooding his veins when he first read the letter the mother left behind, explaining that she couldn't do it. Couldn't raise their child. She hadn't even wanted to meet his eyes when she handed him the baby carrier. And then she was gone, leaving him with a helpless infant and a heart full of confusion.

At first, Lando doubted himself. How could he, a twenty-one-year-old who could barely keep houseplants alive, take care of a baby? His career demanded everything from him. He had no time for diaper changes, midnight feedings, or learning how to soothe a crying baby. But then he looked down at her. Yn. With her soft, dark curls and big, curious eyes. And in that instant, his hesitation melted away.

He was her dad. She was his world. There was no turning back.

The first year was chaos. Sleep deprivation became his new normal. His apartment was overrun with baby supplies. His friends barely recognized the version of Lando who spent more time researching baby formulas than playing video games. But none of that mattered when Yn gave him her first smile, or when she clung to him like he was the safest place in the world.

Only a select few knew about her. His family, of course. His best friend Max Fewtrell, who had been there since day one with jokes, support, and emergency diaper runs. His team at McLaren, who adjusted travel schedules and provided quiet rooms for Yn during race weekends when necessary. And then there was Dolores.

Dolores had been an unexpected blessing. She lived across the hall, a warm-hearted Colombian woman in her sixties with a booming laugh and a soft spot for babies. The first time she found Lando on his doorstep, frantically bouncing a wailing Yn at six in the morning, she took charge without hesitation. “Ay, mijo, give her here,” she'd said, scooping Yn into her arms with the confidence of someone who had raised three children herself. “You need to sleep before you pass out. I’ll take care of her.”

From that night on, Dolores became Yn’s second family. When Lando had to travel for races, Yn stayed with her. She taught Yn Spanish nursery rhymes, cooked meals that filled Lando's apartment with mouth-watering aromas, and spoiled Yn with the kind of love only a grandmother could provide. Yn adored her.

And through it all, Lando kept his daughter a secret from the public. He didn’t want her life overshadowed by his fame. Yn deserved a childhood untouched by paparazzi or invasive fans.

Which was why, four years later, no one batted an eye when Dolores and a bright-eyed little girl took their seats in McLaren's VIP section during the Miami Grand Prix.

Yn's curly brown hair was pulled into two lopsided pigtails, and her big, curious eyes scanned the bustling scene below. She swung her legs back and forth, the tiny McLaren hoodie she wore swallowing her frame.

"Dolores! Did you see Daddy's car?" Yn gasped, her voice bubbling with excitement. "It's so fast today!"

Dolores chuckled softly beside her, her wrinkled hands folding neatly in her lap. "Of course, mija. Your daddy is very fast. But today, I think he is also a little bit magic, no?"

Yn giggled, leaning against the older woman. She loved Dolores like a grandmother. The warm smell of her lavender lotion always made Yn feel safe, even when Daddy was away.

"He's gonna win," Yn declared confidently. "I just know it."

"I hope so, mi corazón," Dolores said, brushing a stray curl from Yn's forehead. "He works very hard. And I know he wants to make you proud."

Yn nodded vigorously, as if there was no question at all. To her, Lando was already the best. He gave the best hugs, made the silliest pancake faces, and always kissed her forehead before bed, even when he was tired. Winning a race? That was just another thing he could do.

A few rows away, Max Fewtrell leaned casually against the railing, his sunglasses shielding his eyes as he scanned the crowd. He was there to support Lando, of course, but also to keep an eye on Yn and Dolores. It wasn’t that he thought they needed babysitting — Yn was a handful, sure, but Dolores had handled far worse in her years — but Lando had made one thing clear: protect his daughter. Always.

The world didn’t know about Yn. Not really. To the public, Lando was the cheeky, carefree McLaren driver who loved gaming and laughing with his friends. No one knew about the nights he stayed up with a teething baby or the mornings he tiptoed through his apartment to avoid waking Yn before breakfast. And that was how he wanted it.

She deserved normal. And as long as Lando had a say, she would get it.

The race was a blur. Yn squealed and cheered every time she caught a glimpse of the papaya-colored car speeding down the straights. Her tiny fingers clutched a homemade sign that said "Go Daddy Go!" in wobbly, marker-scrawled letters.

When the checkered flag waved and Lando crossed the line first, the entire McLaren garage erupted into chaos. Mechanics cheered, hugging each other as the engineers pounded their fists against the monitors. Dolores clapped softly, a proud smile spreading across her face.

Yn, however, had no such composure.

"He won!" she shrieked, jumping up and down. "Dolores, he did it! Daddy won!"

Dolores laughed as Yn pulled at her hand. "Sí, sí, mija. Calm down or you will fly away."

Yn didn't care. Her heart pounded with joy. She wanted to see him — needed to see him. Daddy always told her winning was special, but it wasn’t everything. But to her, this moment felt like everything.

Lando stood on the top step of the podium, heart hammering in his chest as the British national anthem blared around him. The weight of the winner's trophy felt surreal in his hands. He’d dreamed of this day for years.

But only one thought consumed his mind.

Yn.

As soon as the celebrations wrapped up, he bolted from the podium. He barely registered the cheers from the crowd or the flashes of cameras. His legs burned, but he didn’t stop. He needed to get to her.

The McLaren VIP section was quiet compared to the chaos outside, but when Lando pushed open the door, Yn was already rushing toward him.

"Daddy!"

The sound of her voice hit him like a lightning bolt. He dropped to his knees just in time for Yn to throw herself into his arms. She clung to him tightly, her little face buried against his neck.

"You did it! You won!" Yn said, her voice muffled but filled with pride.

Lando squeezed her tighter, pressing kisses to her temple. "I did, baby. I did it for you."

Dolores, watching the reunion with quiet warmth, stood back respectfully. She had known from the moment Lando took his daughter into his arms for the first time that this boy — no matter how young or unprepared he might have been — was meant to be a father.

Lando pulled back just enough to cup Yn's face in his hands. "Did you watch the whole race?"

Yn nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Every lap. You were so fast!"

His heart melted. "I wanted to make you proud."

"I am proud," Yn whispered. "Always."

He laughed softly, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I love you too, Daddy."

For a moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, and the love that bound them together.

But outside the VIP section, murmurs began to ripple through the paddock.

"Did that kid just call him Daddy?"

"Wait, does Lando have a kid?"

"Since when?"

Lando didn’t care. He had spent four years protecting Yn from the spotlight. He wasn’t about to let a few rumors take away the joy of this moment.

Max slipped into the room, a wide grin plastered across his face. "Told you she'd be your lucky charm."

Yn turned in Lando's arms, spotting Max. "Uncle Max! Did you see? Daddy won!"

Max laughed, crouching down to their level. "I saw, mini. You must be magic or something."

Yn giggled, and Lando shook his head fondly. "Thanks for keeping an eye on them," he murmured.

"Always," Max said quietly. "But hey, maybe next time warn me when you're about to blow your own cover."

Lando snorted, standing up with Yn still perched on his hip. "It was worth it."

And as Yn snuggled against his shoulder, her soft breath warm against his neck, Lando knew with every fiber of his being that no trophy would ever mean more than being her dad.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoy this story. My requests are always open for you!

-💙🦋

[jaesvelvet]

reconnection

SUMMARY ➤ You've been longing for Robert Reynolds for seven years now. No matter how hard you try to let him go, your heart refuse to do so but after a weird moment of being trapped in your own nightmare, you finally found Robert. On a local news along side with the new Avengers.

PAIRING ➤ Robert (Bob) Reynolds x fem! reader

GENRES ➤ Angsty with happy ending

WARNINGS ➤ THUNDERBOLTS* spoiler ahead A tiny part of suicidal scene, reader is in deression but no one's helping, and mention of drugs

WORDS COUNT ➤ 4k words

NOTES ➤ it took so long for one fic and i'm sorry about it!!! i thought i was ready to be back but i was so insecure of my writing to the point i've had to disregard my two enha's fic )): also it's so obvious that i already watched thunderbolts* ^^ the movie was so good i had to write for bob's character.

Soon after Robert announced that he is going somewhere to get himself on a track– nobody would even guess he would volunteer himself to an untrusted medical research. Presumming the naive man would surrender himself as soon as the doctor said it would turn him into a better man– he must have signed whatever papers given without having second thoughts.

Robert tries to be better, but at the end of the day, he cannot escape the household he’d been living in. You’re the only one who can truly see how hard it is to avoid all the drugs, lean into a healthy life, and live a life without any disturbing surroundings. But he keeps coming back to square one. 

He always asked you to leave him once he relapsed, but you stood there, firmly. He was so sure you’re here because of sympathy and not because of him. He wants to believe in you but it’s not that easy because at the end of the day, he always ended up alone.

In late 2020– three years before The Avengers found a way to bring back half of the population, he had enough of this shit. He slowly began to realize that you’re here because you want to. The hopeful feeling slowly began to rise inside of him after so long. With his parents having been blipped, he finally can breathe. No more fights, screaming and sounds of hitting. He is lowkey on Thanos’s side in this war but keeps his mouth shut, you lost half of your family in the blip and he simply does not want to hurt you; the person whom he cares most about. 

But he only works on his plan, seven years later. Thinking he cannot leave you like this, not when your emotional state is not stable. And the other reason— he is broke and needs more than his ‘savings’ to change himself.

He landed in Malaysia after hours on the air, his smiles wide, thinking of how he can be a better person after this project and how he can finally prove to everyone that he isn’t just a useless human being. Ah. the thoughts of your ‘I’m so proud of you, Robert” lingers in his mind. He would text you if his phone wasn't confiscated by the researcher, he assumes it would be hours of research and everything will change after that.

Robert soon curses at himself as soon as he hears that he is not the only volunteer they had, they all died during the trial but it is too late for him. He is trapped in the metal coffin that they put him in. He tried to scream and punch everything but it was all useless. Soon he feels the temperature slowly rising up and his body feels tense all of sudden scares him. At this moment he thought that staying alive would be the ideal prayer he can utter right now. He couldn’t die now, not with your face still haunting his thoughts.

His whole body started to ache, his energy slowed down and his scream got slower. His body can’t take whatever they gave him right now, but it looks like the thing is being forced down inside of his body. He cannot even wriggle in pain due to limited space, the only words he could utter at that moment was “Stop…” 

The void left by Robert’s absence weighs heavily on you as you grapple with uncertainty of his fate.

“You’re wasting yourself waiting for him” 

You try your best to move on. Your friends told you that a meth addict was better off without you anyway, you tried to ignore them but the pain of longing is much worse than you think. For seven months you couldn’t meet anyone to replace Robert, you can’t understand the exact reasons why your heart still longing for him, the probability of him died in some foreign country is high and you are ready to accept the fact that Robert is gone but your heart still couldn't fathom this ‘statement’.

“Maybe he was there somewhere…” is the only excuse you can give to your friends although deep down, you don’t even know what to expect anymore.

Your high hope of Robert make you all alone, your friends start to keep of their distances on you, your siblings seems to give up to support your stance of ‘Robert is there somewhere’ and your parents seems to accept that their daughter might suffers from some mental health problem but do nothing to help– they thought paying for psychiatrist and medications are waste of money if you still hoping for the man. 

And that’s when you decided you are better alone anyways. Starting your day in your rented apartment with leftover food from last night, settling into the couch that your sister handed down to you when she’s decided to move from New York and suddenly your surroundings turning black all of sudden. 

Your breathing unsteady at first, thinking that this is a dream– or did you depress enough to start hallucinating things? You gulped down your saliva, nonetheless you start walking– very slowly, searching for a starting point but all of the sudden the black scenery quickly turns into an airport. The day was sunny and there’s a lot of cars parked at the waiting area; it felt like a deja vu for a moment before you spotted two familiar figures hugging outside of your parents car. 

It was you and Robert. 

You walk closely with the two of you hugging. You tried to hold your tears but failed when you saw Robert’s face when he broke the hug.

“I’ll be back better than before, then we can talk about us. I promise you this time” Robert said with a gentle touch to your cheek before you both parted ways.

“Please don’t go…” you sobbed. Your voice trembling with desperation. But it was clear– you were invisible to them. As Robert’s figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance, the scene suddenly reset. Again, he turned to leave and once again your tears went unheard. You shook your head, whatever this was, it seems like you’re trapped in your own nightmare.

The repeated scene in front of you causes you to feel light headed, you walk away from the scene, hoping for a way out and suddenly you’re in your own bedroom. You sigh in relief, your heart still pounding fast from the strange experience you felt. You’re about to land on your bed before a sound of cries could be heard. You brows furrowed, searching for the source of the sound around the bedroom.

You gasped in silence when you saw yourself on the floor, on the other side of the bed. Staring blankly at the pills on your palm. 

You remember this moment, it was months after everyone returns from being a dust but not your Robert. It was tough for a few weeks, you can’t accept fate. There’s no news or phone call from him. You are tired of waiting for him after years of praying for him to come back in one piece. The pills on your palm was the answer, your soul is nowhere to be found, and maybe taking your own life would be ideal. 

“This is not the way…” you sobbed. 

The old version of yourself slowly turned to face you. A faint, almost bittersweet smile played on her lips as she raised the pills to her mouth and swallowed them in one gulp

“We are always alone” she whispered, the words echoing through the room like a curse carved into time. 

You stood frozen, powerless. Watching yourself spiral, watching the weight of silent suffering crush someone who was—still is—you. It was unbearable. The isolation, the desperation, the quiet resignation etched in her face—it made you feel small, fragile. Pathetic.

You screamed every name you could think of, mom, dad, your sister and even Robert. Hoping if anyone could hear your desperate hoarse voice even if it is a faint sound but to your dismay, there’s no answer. You ran through the endless corridors, searching, pleading for a way out just to find every door you opened led to another nightmares of your past. 

All of the painful memories greet you at every turn– echoes of moments you tried so hard to bury deep down in your head. It felt like you’d been running for hours, maybe even longer, your legs seemed to give out but you can’t give up just yet. The last thing you want is to die in the maze of your own sorrow and regret. 

Then without warning,  the darkness began to dissolve, the screams faded, the air lightened and the oppressive weight lifted.

And suddenly– you were back. Sitting on your couch, in your living room. Silence. 

Everything looks the same… but you weren’t.

It wasn’t long enough for the news of the New Avengers broke, soon after the chaos of ‘the Void’ (according to the news) ended, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine; the director of CIA immediately announce of the new Avengers including Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and John Walker, the second Captain America that killed a civilian in public eyes. You don’t even trust the new group she formed, hell you couldn't care less at this point. You almost choked on your water as your eyes glued on the man on the right side of the group. A man who wears a blue crewneck sweater with light brown corduroy pants with curly hair that goes unnoticed. 

The glass slipped from your hand and shattered the moment it hit the floor. You instinctively covered your mouth, eyes wide. Your breathing grew unsteady again. You froze in front of the television for a moment before a sudden phone call jolted you into reality. 

Still shaken from the shock, you answered the call from your sister. A shaky hello is all you could manage at the moment. 

“Am I seeing this right? Bob is on the television? Bob joining the Avengers?” she asked. Her voice was laced with impatience and disbelief. 

“I- I don’t know… You see him too?” you asked her. It’s hard to confirm what you’ve been seeing after the ‘episode’ you had earlier.

“Duh! Everyone can see it! He disappeared for seven years just to be an Avengers? He looks so uncool with that ordinary outfit. Maybe I can help with his out–”

You ended the call, her ranting was more than enough to prove that you’re not hallucinating. The person on the television was Robert. Your Robert. 

If you followed your instincts you'd drive to the Watchtower right now to confront him. But you stopped yourself. You need to be ready. If you’re going to face Robert, you have to be prepared– both physically and mentally. At the very least, you needed to look presentable to meet him after so long. 

Your outfit wasn’t terrible and the makeup you’d applied to make you look presentable wasn’t bad either. Everything seemed fine– on the surface. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step out of the car. Your grip on the steering wheel was so tight to the point your knuckle turned white. It has been so long waiting for Robert. You should at least be excited to meet him right?

But in this case, you couldn't pinpoint exactly what you’re currently feeling right at the moment. Anger, Sadness, Anxious, Happy. It’s all blended into one. 

A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts. A police officer stood outside, gesturing for you to roll it down. You did so without hesitation, your fingers still trembling slightly.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you can’t park here,” he said politely but firmly. At that moment you realized that your car stopped near the building– which is crowded with cranes and construction workers. 

“Oh... right. I’m sorry,” you murmured, trying to gather yourself. “I didn’t mean to stay long.”

He nodded, not pressing further. “Alright. Just be sure to move along soon.”

As he walked away, the pressure in your chest returned. You looked back at the looming Watchtower building for a few seconds. You decided to park a little further away from the building. A big sigh escapes from your mouth. You’re here. You waited seven years for him. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

This is it, you thought. No more stalling.

Your hand reached for the door handle, it is now or never. 

“Where’s Bob?” Alexei asked, both of his hands carrying four bags of heavy grocery as if it's nothing. 

“In his new room I guess” a man with blonde hair answered lazily, he was about to leave the pantry, his eyes glued on a foreign person behind Alexei. 

“Ah, great. Does Valentina send us a new PR manager so her reputation is untouchable? Cause let me tell you, we owner her now, one bad decision she ended up with President Ross in the raft” the blond whinged.

“Ah no no… Valentina does not send her here. I am” Alexei clarified.

“You want us to have a PR Manager?” he asked, one brow lifted in confusion.

“No, fool. This is our number one fan!” Alexei chirped. A huge and wide smile could be seen from his face. He put the groceries down, and gently pushed you forward to properly introduce you to the man. 

You recognized the man standing in front of you—he was the second Captain America after Steve Rogers. You were sure of it; the day he was announced, his face had been everywhere.

Walker’s confused expression quickly shifted to one of disapproval. He shook his head as he looked between you and Alexei.

“No… no… Alexei you can’t bring some random people in here! She could be some secret agent or something or just some creep!” he grumbled. 

You’re about to open your mouth to defend yourself but Alexei cuts you off immediately.

“She is harmless. We’re going through security seven times, no guns and knives on her, I guarantee that” 

Walker rolls his eyes back, first day as the new Avengers, Alexei already does so much work in marketing their team. The blonde let out a small sigh while the older male still trying to reassure him. Seeing the tense in the room, you clear your throats to gain their attention which is a success. 

“I’m not a secret agent or some creep, I just want to meet Robert. I’m his friend” you speak up

“Bob got another friend?” Walker asked 

You nodded your head slowly. Seems like Robert still uses the nickname ‘Bob’ to introduce himself to others. You dropped the nickname a long time ago, you thought the name Robert sounds too good not to use, besides he also likes being called Robert by you.

“I met her in the lobby. She begging to meet Bob, I thought she is a fan” 

“Fans or friends. She cannot be in here. I’ll call the security–” 

“Please! I’m begging you, I need to meet him, even for a minute.” you pleaded, the sound of desperation in your voice is noticeable which makes the stern Walker having second thoughts.

“Okay sure. But under one condition” 

You expect the usual would be; having almost thirty guards surrounding you, security check for the nth time and you need to talk to him in the visiting area but your assumptions went straight out of the window when they ask a girl with platinum blonde hair or they called her as Yelena to accompany you to meet Robert. 

You trailed along behind her silently to Robert’s room, the walk from the pantry isn’t that far,  but on each step, your hand grew colder. You glance at Yelena, you’ve seen her once– on the news yesterday but even from that brief impression, she seemed confident, brave and a kind of person who genuinely cares for others. You could tell by how cautious she is before allowing you to meet Robert. 

You didn’t even know what kind of relationship she had with him but you can’t help but feel slightly insecure. You used to be Robert’s safe place. You were always there for him, through every hell he endured. But now, it was Yelena the others trusted with him.

Was she really trustworthy?

You knew how naive Robert could be. That’s what worries you most—that this “new Avengers” crew might be filling his head with promises, just to turn him into their next lab rat.

“Well, Bob doesn’t mention he has a friend” Yelena spoke up, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You frowned slightly, a sharp pang tightening in your chest.

“He hasn’t?” Seven months—seven long months—you waited for him like a fool, and he hadn’t even mentioned you to his new friends?

A slow wave of regret crept over you. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“Well, it’s only fair. We just met 48 hours ago and his memory is still hazy after the incident” Yelena answered. 

You stop in your tracks and so does Yelena, the blonde girl turned around to face you with a confused face.

“I– is he okay?” you asked, the news hasn’t covered much about him, they only talk about the other superheroes hence you don’t even know why they took Robert as well. Does the medical research he went to seven years ago link into this chaos?

“Yeah, he’s fine. But just don’t pressure him into remembering things, he can’t control it yet” Yelena said. 

“It?” you asked in confusion. What exactly happened to him?

“Uh, the thing yesterday, it was him– not entirely him but his dark side I would say” 

You fell silent, a chill spreading through you. Had they already made him into their lab rat? For seven months, he has been suffering alone all these months?

Your steps grew heavier as you followed her through the quiet corridor. The sterile lights overhead flickered slightly, casting shadows that seemed to dance with your thoughts. Every footstep echoed your anxiety.

“Bob?” Yelena knocks on his door once before Robert opens it up, with a wide smile plastered on his face. 

“They gave me a good bed!” he exclaims

“Uh yeah, good for you…” Yelena smiles at him, she hasn’t checked her room yet, too busy dealing with the superiors with Bucky. She took a look at Robert's room, it was huge and comfortable, much better than her old room. 

“I think I want to request some books, vinyl records and oh! Maybe a huge TV–”

“Uh, Bob?” Yelena cut him off gently.

Robert turned, eyebrows raised—until Yelena stepped slightly to the side, revealing the girl who had been standing quietly behind her.

Robert froze, stunned into silence. It took him a few seconds to fully register the woman standing in front of him. But when recognition finally clicked into place, his eyes welled with tears, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N” 

Without another words you ran towards him and he caught you in a warm hug. It was surreal, almost unbelievable to feel Robert’s arms around your waist again. You had dreamt of this moment for so long and now it was all real, the realization broke you into tears as you clung tightly to him.

On the other side of the room, Yelena let a small smile form on her lips. It felt good to see people reunited, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding happiness again. She dreamed of that too—especially on the days that felt heavier than most.

Her found family meant everything to her. And now, with her sister Natasha gone, all she could do was keep moving forward. Still, deeply inside she longed for the same kind of peace the two of you had just found in each other.

“Seven months… I’ve waited for you for seven months, Robert” you speak up after a moment being in each other's embrace.

Robert wipes the tears off from your cheek while nodding his head.

“I’m sorry– everything happened so fast, one moment I was in a metal coffin and the next thing I knew I was in a vault and met them” he explained. From the moment Robert regained his consciousness inside the OXE Vault, everything felt like a blur to him. The sight of four strangers in cool suits locked in a deadly battle made him nauseous.

He can’t remember the details but he remembered the tension in his body and when he turned into the Sentry, it felt good. For the first time in forever, everything felt right. He wanted to fly straight to you and show how powerful he became but then again he suddenly collapsed after feeling a buzzing from his new costume and waking up once again not remembering anything. 

He got a little too excited with the news of the new Avengers and the fact that he had a room of his own again. It was a lot to take in after everything. He hated that it distracted him, even for a second.

“I’m sorry” he added

You shook your head, this time it is your turn to wipe the tears off his cheek. 

“I’m just glad that you’re okay. Everyday I pray for you to come back to me.” you snivelled. 

“I’m here now, I will not leave you again. No more volunteer to any medical researchers shit” he slightly chuckle

You scoff at his banter, slowly removing your arms from his waist. 

“You have a lot to tell me, Robert. I can’t wait for us to go back home and–”

“Um, not trying to ruin the moment here but he cannot go back home” Yelena cuts your word. You turn your face to her with a confused expression. 

“What? Why? He is just civilian like me” 

“Uh no… Apparently Bob is one of us now, the thing about medical research make him powerful” Yelena explained

You glance at Robert for a moment, then shift your gaze back to Yelena.

“So about the ‘It’ thing you said earlier–”

“Yup” Yelena Yelena answered before you could even finish your question—already anticipating it. She was worried Robert might try to force the memories back too soon.

“So, can I stay?” you asked her

Yelena seems caught off guard with your question, it tooks a second for her to make a decision. 

“Just don’t let Bucky see you,” she said and left the room.

You turn to Robert again, now his face mirroring your facial just now– the confused look. You let out a small laugh and held both of his warm hands. 

“She cares for you a lot, I can tell. I need to beat her in this one-sided competition” you joked. Robert smiles at you and caresses your cheek– the things that he always does to you, it was more like a habit when the two of you are close like this.

“She feels like a sister to me. A sister that I never had, I don’t know why though, but you… You’re the most special person ever in my heart. The person who trusts me the most. Thank you for waiting for me, I really appreciate you. I really do” 

“I think I love you a little too much to the point that no one in earth can replace you” 

“My girl, I love you too. So much! Gonna spend all of this moment with you forever!” He pulled you into a tight hug and spun you around, making you let out a small shriek in protest, laughing as you begged him to stop.

“I’m glad you found friends that truly care for you, Robert. Me and your other friends are always on your side, through thick and thin” 

Robert’s heart is getting warm hearing your words. He grew so used to the word alone, he nearly forgot what it felt like to be surrounded by people who truly cared. His memories are still foggy, but after meeting the others yesterday, he knew one thing for sure. He is not alone anymore. 

​​For the first time in forever, the void is finally filled with something beautiful.

[theonottsbxtch]

Cool for the Summer | LN4

an: i’ve been trying not to just blow up the timeline with a bunch of smau but thanks to @isaadore and @diycriptheory i finally chose one thing to post!

synopsis: in which lando goes to the same resort each summer and he befriends the owners daughter who works there

fc: pinterest!

2019

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, yourusername and 592,362 others

summer break in full swing 🤘

*tap to load more comments*

userone: sun looks good on you

usertwo: look at those back muscles

userthree: WHO is that girl?

landonorris: her name is yn! she works at the resort we stayed at and was our personal guide, check out her dads resort @/resortname

userfour: just yn? 🤔

carlossainz55: why didn’t you invite me cabrón?

landonorris: “i don’t want to go on holiday with you, i see you too much” - do those words sound familiar?

carlossainz55: not at all, who said them?

landonorris: 😑

userfive: yn is us, reading on the beach

2020

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername, danielricciardo and 864,436 others

much needed break 😴

*tap to load more comments*

userone: is that yn?!

usertwo: did he meet up with the girl from last summer?!

carlossainz55: i was also on that holiday

landonorris: were you? i must have missed that

carlossainz55: gringo

danielricciardo: there is no way this beats an aussie summer

landonorris: oh but it does

userthree: carlos went on holiday with him 🥲 my carlando heart

yourusername: i was quite enjoying the idea of a summer not working

landonorris: but unfortunately for you, your dad loves me

yourusername: wrong, he loves your money

carlossainz55: lol 😹🫵

userfour: don’t shoot me but landoyn

userfive: 🔫

2021

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 2,371 others

he got some hours in this summer - also check out this vase i started earlier!

*tap to load more comments*

userone: pottery queen

landonorris: child labour

yourusername: you’re 23

landonorris: exaclty 😞

usertwo: each summer i get excited knowing we get landoyn posts

userthree: if they don’t get together i may cry

userfour: and now they kiss

carlossainz55: best boat rider? driver? chauffer? ever!

yourusername: skipper! but thank you :)

carlossainz55: but you don’t skip?

yourusername: it’s a dumb name i know 😭

userfive: it’s the way she’s friends with carlos too

yourbestfriend: @/landonorris how does it feel to steal my best friend each summer?

landonorris: pretty good actually

yourbestfriend: 🔪

2022

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 462,382 others

finally was trusted enough to see how pottery stuff is done

*tap to load more comments*

userone: i come alive once each year for the annual post

usertwo: lando is a summer child

carlossainz55: don’t lie. you paid her €100 to let you in the room

landonorris: that was not meant to be public knowledge

userthree: lando is such a simp bc why did he pay €100 to watch a girl do some pottery

userfour: but it’s not just SOME girl

userfive: it’s THE girl

yourusername: €100 well earned

landonorris: you and i are no longer friends

yourusername: whomp whomp

2023

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri and 3,472 others

spent the summer saving the people’s favourite driver from drowning

*tap to load more comments*

userone: thank you for your service

oscarpiastri: not my favourite driver

yourusername: facts me too

carlossainz55: @/landonorris: shots fired

usertwo: parents

userthree: okay maybe not this year but next year 😞

yourbestfriend: *cough* i actually was on lifeguard duty most of the summer

yourusername: shhhh

userfour: help can lando not swim

yourusername: no

landonorris: she’s lying, i can

2024

landonorris

liked by your username, oscarpiastri, mclarenracing and 934,635 others

ahead of the hungary gp i had a personalised helmet created to fit in with the rich culture of the country, following the gp i will put this up to auction for a children’s charity - see you on track!🏎️🏁

*tap to load more comments*

userone: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHE DID NOT

usertwo: i am sick

userthree: landoyn is so real

userfour: 2024 is the year

yourusername: nice helmet! wonder where you got it from?

landonorris: some pretty, talented woman made it for me

yourusername: what a lucky lady, you speak highly of her

landonorris: ☺️

userfive: THÉ COMMA. PRETTY. TALENTED. KILL ME NOW

oscarpiastri: does the artist take commissions for next year?

yourusername: potentially!

landonorris: back off piastri

twitter:

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend and 6,422 others

this summer i learnt how to do a handstand

*tap to load more comments*

userone: don’t freak out calm down too late i’m freaking out

landonorris: that’s a headstand actually

yourusername: chat to me when you have a olympic gold medal

usertwo: THIS IS NOT A DRILL

userthree: THE LAST SLIDE

oscarpiastri: photo credits?

yourbestfriend: i took that actually

oscarpiastri: that’s from my sunbed actually

yourbestfriend: we were on the same bed dufus

userfour: 👀

carlossainz55: the son of a bitch did it

userfive: CARLOS HELP

landonorris

liked yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 937,361 others

i love summer

*tap to load more comments*

userone: I LOVE SUMMER TOO LANDO

usertwo: the way she looks at him 🥹

oscarpiastri: @/yourbestfriend we are feeding the landoyn fans

yourbestfriend: that we are

userthree: someone check in on the landoyn fan base

userfour: miss rabbit has fainted

yourusername: i think i may love summer too 🤭

landonorris: 🥰

yourdad: i approve

[stemms]

I could never understand people who treat DSMP like a dead fandom or feel ashamed of still adoring this piece of media in 2024. After all, isn’t the whole point of enjoying any story to keep it in your heart for years instead of forgetting about it the moment it loses its popularity? How did classical literature or old movies/series survive and remain appreciated until today, for example? The DSMP fandom is alive because there still are people who deeply care about the characters, and it will keep on living until there’s at least one person passionate about it.

It is true that the DSMP fandom was bigger in 2020-2022, but it’s also important to remember the quality of the fanbase at the time. I remember seeing so much more harassment, especially directed towards people interested in portraying c!Prime’s canonically abusive dynamic without even exploring the aspect of /p physical affection; many people were forced to deactivate their accounts because of the insane amount of toxic reactions. There were also A Lot of people incapable of understanding that CC’s characters weren’t supposed to represent their real life personalities, which either led to certain CC’s harassment for being “horrible people” or to misinterpretation of certain characters (e.g. c!Dream, c!George, c!Sapnap, c!Quackity, or c!Sam), a huge amount of poor lore comprehension, leading to Lots of victim-blaming and abuse apologism.

Now that DSMP is over and less popular, a significant amount of people responsible for the fandom’s poor reputation is gone, and people who genuinely understand the characters and simply want to discuss and/or create content for their hyperfixation in peace, stayed. Of course, this fandom isn’t perfect or entirely free of Weird™ people, but there’s certainly less toxicity, and it’s all that matters.

The next time you feel ashamed of still enjoying DSMP, try to remind yourself of the wonderful memories, excitement, creativity boost, and friends it brought you, and focus on the fact that this story will remain alive for as long as you let it.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE — PART ONE

paige x azzi

trope: enemies to lovers

warnings: language

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I got a lot of request for an enemies to lovers series so here it is! In this one they both grow up in DC/Virginia to give it a better arc and make it more of a slow burn. I'm also going to experiment with POVs more in this series. This first chapter is pretty much just setting the scene on what's caused them to dislike each other so much. Let me know what you think!

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

March 2018 

The gym was alive with the roar of fans, the bleachers packed to the brim as the Washington D.C. Girls Basketball Championship unfolded. The two teams on the court weren’t just competing for a title; they were locked in a battle of pride and supremacy that had been brewing between the schools for years. 

On one side was Gonzaga College High School, led by the blonde, brash point guard Paige Bueckers, the number one player in the class of 2020. Less than 10 miles and a 20-minute drive away was St. John’s College High School, boasting its own star, Azzi Fudd, the number one player in the class of 2021.

The rivalry between their schools ran deep, stemming from heated football clashes that had been going on for decades, but it was quickly spilling over into the girls' basketball programs. Paige made sure of it. She’d been playing with a chip on her shoulder against St. John’s ever since they handed her team a bitter loss in last year’s championship game her freshman year. To her defense, she had been playing on a bum ankle after rushing herself back to help the team in the playoffs, but the sting of the loss had stayed with her. Sp every time she faced St. John’s, Paige was out to prove a point—and tonight was no different.

Azzi, meanwhile, was laser-focused. She didn’t care about last year because she wasn’t there, though she’d heard about it. But what mattered to her was this year, this game and everything going forward. But she couldn’t ignore how insufferable Paige could be. Earlier this season, Gonzaga had handed St. John’s their only loss in conference play, and Paige had been at the center of it, running her mouth the entire game.

“What’s wrong, Fudd? Can’t handle the pressure?” Paige had taunted during their first matchup, grinning as she drained a step-back three. “Don’t worry freshie—I’ll teach you how it’s done.”

Azzi had kept her composure back then as Paige chirped in her ear, but tonight was different. The stakes were higher, the score tied, and Paige was playing like she owned the court.

As Paige brought the ball up the court, her eyes scanned the defense, locking with Azzi’s. That trademark smirk spread across her face.

“Let’s see if you’ve learned anything since last time,” Paige quipped, her voice loud enough for Azzi to hear.

Azzi rolled her eyes, her hands ready, her feet planted. “Maybe you should focus more on scoring then on talking,”

Paige didn’t answer with words; she let her game speak instead. A possession later her quick crossover sent her defender stumbling, and Paige took the opening, driving hard to the rim. Azzi was there in an instant, meeting her midair and forcing her into a tough layup. The ball clanked off the rim, and Azzi grabbed the rebound, her intensity growing.

As she sprinted back down the court, she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. “You should really take my advice, Bueckers, that was pretty bad.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh at finally getting some words out of her, jogging to catch up. “Keep talking, Fudd. You’ll see how it ends.”

The game continued at a blistering pace, the two stars going back and forth, each trying to outshine the other and pull their team to a win. The tension on the court mirrored the years of animosity between their schools, the rivalry growing with every possession.

Azzi hit a pull-up jumper over Paige, earning a roar from the St. John’s crowd as she ran back on defense. Paige came right back, threading a no-look pass for an assist and stopping to blow a kiss to the Gonzaga section of the stands.

Every play, every word exchanged, added fuel to the fire.

For Azzi, it wasn’t just about the championship anymore. It was about shutting Paige up, proving that despite what the media said she was the best player in the DMV. For Paige, it was about reclaiming what she felt was hers—revenge for last year and dominance over St. John’s. It didn’t hurt that she was getting some competition going against the ‘best shooter’ in basketball. 

The crowd could feel it: this wasn’t just any game. They were watching two greats go at it and it was rare to see two household talents come from the same area like this. 

The gym pulsed with energy as the clock ticked down in the fourth quarter. Neither team could pull away, and the intensity between Paige and Azzi burned brighter with every possession.

Azzi moved with purpose, slicing through Gonzaga’s defense and rising for what looked like an easy layup. But Paige came out of nowhere, her hand swatting the ball as it went soaring into the crowd with authority.

“Get that weak shit outta here!” Paige yelled as she flexed both arms, the sound carrying over the roar of the crowd.

Azzi landed hard, her jaw tightening as Paige ran past her. 

Azzi didn’t let it faze her. The next possession, she caught the ball on the wing, her defender sagging just enough to give her space. With a quick dribble, she stepped back, rising for a three-pointer that sailed over Paige’s outstretched hand and splashed through the net.

Azzi held her follow-through for a second longer than necessary, then smirked as she turned to face Paige. “You might wanna put a hand up quicker next time.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed, her grin twisting into something more dangerous. Azzi had no idea how much trash talk fueled Paige's game. “Alright, Fudd. You wanna talk shit now? Bet, watch this.”

The next few plays were a blur of brilliance, all led by Paige. She weaved through defenders with ease, hitting a floater over two St. John’s players. On the next possession, she stripped Azzi at midcourt, sprinting ahead for an uncontested finger roll to add a little extra. The Gonzaga fans erupted, sensing the tide was turning  in their favor.

Azzi tried to respond, driving hard into the paint, but Paige was there again, cutting off her angle and forcing a wild layup that missed off the rim.

“Don’t force it, Fudd,” Paige taunted as she grabbed the rebound and passed the ball up the court. “This is my game now.”

Paige called for the ball on the wing, sizing up her defender before nailing a step-back three-pointer that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Gonzaga’s bench jumped to their feet, and Paige being the competitor she is, turned and gave a little shrug to the St. John’s crowd as she put her index finger to her lip showing that she had silenced them.

Azzi clenched her jaw, glaring at the scoreboard as Gonzaga’s lead stretched to eight. She could feel the championship slipping away, and Paige was at the center of it all with a cocky ass smirk.

The final buzzer sounded moments later, sealing Gonzaga’s victory. Paige’s teammates rushed the court, surrounding her as part of the gym erupted in cheers. Paige soaked it all in, her arms raised in triumph, while Azzi stood frozen near midcourt, her hands on her hips.

Azzi’s chest heaved with frustration as she watched Paige celebrate. She hates losing, but losing to Paige made it so much worse for some reason. Paige caught her eye from across the court, giving her a small, smug wave.

The Gonzaga team revealed in their championship victory, while the St. John’s players trudged back to their bench, disappointment etched on their faces.

The teams soon lined up for handshakes, the air between them still a little tense. To the crowd, it was a display of sportsmanship—players exchanging congratulatory words and polite smiles. But when Paige reached Azzi, the energy shifted.

Paige extended her hand, pulling Azzi in close as if to offer words of encouragement. Her voice dropped to a low murmur, just loud enough for Azzi to hear over the noise.

“Get in the gym, Fudd,” Paige said, her lips curving into a smug grin. “That’s what 2-0 now? Better catch up.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed with irritation. Scoffing, she pulled back, brushing her shoulder against Paige’s as she moved past her.

“You’re such a bitch,” Azzi muttered under her breath, not bothering to look back as she continued down the line.

Paige’s grin widened as she watched her Azzi walk away, the satisfaction of the win lingering just a bit longer knowing she proved she was the number one player for a reason today. 

December 2018

The rivalry between Gonzaga and St. John’s had only gotten more competitive in Paige's junior year and Azzi’s sophomore season. Every time these two teams met, the tension between Paige and Azzi electrified the gym as the crowd fed off of each of them.

Once again the gym was packed, the crowd deafening as Gonzaga and St. John’s went back and forth in a high-energy conference matchup. Paige, with her trademark poise and undeniable confidence, was on fire tonight. She was hitting everything — pull-up jumpers, threes from deep, tough finishes at the rim. With each basket, her smirk grew, and the energy around her was palpable.

By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, Gonzaga was clinging to a three-point lead. Paige, however, had already racked up 35 points and was showing no signs of slowing down. As the ball was swung to her on the perimeter, Azzi closed out hard, trying to force Paige to drive, but Paige just gave a sly grin and pulled up for a deep three-pointer as Azzi’s hand was down.

Swish.

The crowd erupted, and Paige didn’t even look at the basket as she turned to Azzi, her smirk widening.

“You might as well put on a Gonzaga jersey, Fudd,” Paige taunted, she jogged backwards to get on defense. “I’m scoring on you every time.”

Azzi’s teeth clenched, her jaw tightening as the frustration started to build. She had already been pushed to her limits with Paige’s relentless trash talk the whole game. So the next time Paige got the ball, Azzi was determined to make a play.

Paige drove past her on the right wing, using her speed and quick handle to get to the basket. Azzi did everything she could to keep up, playing great defense, but Paige made the offense look effortless, finishing with a smooth layup through contact. Paige landed on her feet, staring Azzi down as she straightened up.

“I really should start a clinic,” Paige continued, voice dripping with mock sweetness, “on how to defend me... I’ll give you some pointers after the game if you want.”

Azzi’s temper flared, the words cutting through her like a hot knife. Even the calmest person in the world got a little fed up here and there. She was feeling the heat of Paige’s relentless taunts, and the more Paige scored, the more Azzi’s focus shifted from the game to the battle unfolding between them.

When the ball was passed back to Paige, Azzi moved to cut her off, determined not to let Paige get an easy look this time. But as Paige shifted her body to drive past, Azzi made the mistake of reaching out with a little too much aggression. Her hand caught more of Paige’s arm than the ball as she went up for a shot, sending Paige tumbling to the court with a sharp thud.

The whistle blew immediately. Azzi froze, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn't meant to foul that hard, but the anger that had been building inside her made the contact feel more like a release than a mistake.

As the referee called for the foul, Azzi immediately ran her hands down her face, her face flushed with regret. She hated that she let her emotions get the best of her, especially when it came to a player like Paige. This wasn’t who Azzi was. She was better than this.

Without thinking, Azzi reached down to help Paige up, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

But before Azzi could finish, Paige yanked her arm away, her face a mask of anger and disbelief.

“Fuck you,” Paige spat, pushing herself off the floor and standing to her full height. She didn’t look at Azzi, her eyes cold and distant, filled with a harsher fire than what Paige usually plays with.

Azzi stood frozen, the sting of Paige’s words cutting deeper than she expected them to. But she deserves it so she took it in stride. The gym felt like it was holding its breath as the physicality increased, but Azzi didn’t want to dwell on the exchange. She turned away from Paige, heading back to her position as the crowd buzzed with tension.

The game continued, and though Azzi fought to keep her head in the game, it was clear the emotional toll was taking its toll on her. Paige, on the other hand, was unstoppable. She drained another three, her confidence soaring. Gonzaga was up by five, then eight. The scoreboard ticked down, and every time Paige had the ball, it felt like another dagger.

With under a minute left, Paige hit another step-back three, this one over Azzi’s outstretched hand, and it was clear the game was over. The gym erupted as the buzzer sounded — Gonzaga had won 78-66, and Paige had just set a career-high.

As the players lined up for handshakes, Paige felt the weight of the win settle in. But she didn’t feel any empathy for Azzi. No pity. No remorse. The girl couldn’t even handle a little trash talk without purposefully fouling. Paige knew she had silenced the noise, the trash talk, and everything else with a performance that couldn’t be denied by anyone who watched the game.

When she reached Azzi in the handshake line, she extended her hand, but it was more of a formality than anything else. Paige leaned in just enough to murmur, loud enough for Azzi to hear, “Maybe next time you’ll get closer if you don’t piss me off.”

Azzi’s eyes flashed, her entire body tensing as she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Bueckers,” she muttered, brushing past Paige without another word as she continued down the line.

Paige watched her go, the sense of satisfaction lingering, and though she didn’t say anything, she knew Azzi wouldn’t forget this game.

…

Azzi adjusted the strap of her bag, her knee still a little sore as she limped out of the locker room with Ice packs wrapped on her leg. The sting of the loss was fresh, and the energy in the hallway was a mix of chaos and adrenaline. Reporters lingered around the halls, their voices carrying snippets of postgame chatter as they jostled to capture every quote.

Azzi tried to tune it out, focusing on getting to the bus. She was already replaying the game in her mind, agonizing over missed shots and what-ifs. But as she passed the press conference room, a question snagged her attention.

“Paige, what was it like playing in such a competitive matchup with someone who’s also considered one of the top players in DC if not the entire nation?”

Azzi slowed, her ears pricking at the mention of her name—or, at least, the implication of it. She paused just out of sight, listening.

There was a brief pause, then Paige’s voice cut through the chatter. Calm, confident, and just loud enough for Azzi to hear.

“I always love a competitive matchup,” Paige said, her tone light but unmistakably self-assured. “Games like that are what make basketball fun. It’s why I play. I love when there’s passion in the game like that.”

Azzi felt her shoulders relax slightly. That wasn’t so bad.

But then Paige kept going.

“That being said, I think I showed everyone why I’m the number one player in D.C. tonight and my team was able to come out with the win.”

The words hung in the air, and Azzi’s jaw tightened. Paige’s voice had an edge to it—a playful jab, but one that landed a little too close to home.

Gripping the strap of her bag tighter, Azzi moved down the hallway. She wasn’t going to let Paige’s words get to her, but damn if they didn’t light a fire under her for the next time they met. 

March 2019

St. John’s and Gonzaga met once again in the championship game and honestly to Paige and Azzi it felt like deja vu. To everyone else watching this was the matchup they had grown to anticipate. The two guards always putting on a show. It wasn’t just about the title anymore; it was personal. Paige and Azzi both had more to prove than anyone on the court.

Azzi, standing tall at the top of the game and undeniably one of the best in the country, wasn’t about to let herself walk away with an 0-4 record against the cocky blonde. She’d been putting in the work all season, and despite the gnawing frustration of those past losses, she was determined to make this game different. But there was also something else driving her — the weight of being named Gatorade’s National Girls Basketball Player of the Year, as a sophomore. The title had earned her respect across the nation, but not in Paige’s eyes.

For Paige, that honor felt like a slap in the face. She had dominated the court all year, and everyone knew she was the best in her class and had beaten Azzi already this season. For Azzi to get that recognition before her, it stung more than Paige would care to admit to anyone. It was the kind of fire that pushed her to fight harder, to prove that no sophomore was going to overshadow her. She had something to prove — not just to Azzi, but to herself.

As the game tipped off, it was clear that neither of them had any intention of holding back. Azzi, with her perfect shot and effortless off ball movement, seemed to hit shots that defied logic. A step-back three from the corner with a hand in her face? Swish. A deep three from the logo, well beyond NBA range? No problem. The crowd erupted every time her shot dropped, but Paige wasn’t about to let Azzi get too comfortable.

On the other end of the floor, Paige was doing her thing: a mixture of quick ball-handling, aggressive drives to the basket, and, of course, her signature flashy layups that got the crowd involved. One of them, a twisting, acrobatic finish through a crowd of defenders, had the crowd gasping in awe. She flashed a grin as she jogged back on defense, eyes locked on Azzi, who was already making her way down the court.

“You’re not gonna be able to keep up again, Fudd,” Paige taunted, her voice loud enough for Azzi to hear as she took her position. “This is my game, you’re just along for the ride.”

Azzi smirked, not breaking her focus as she got into her shooting stance. “We’ll see when this game’s over,” she shot back, her confidence unwavering.

The back-and-forth continued like that throughout the first half, neither player willing to back down. Every time Paige hit a flashy layup, Azzi came back with a deep three. Every time Azzi sank another impossible shot, Paige answered with a smooth jump shot of her own. The crowd was on its feet the entire time, watching two of the most talented players in the nation go toe-to-toe, each one refusing to give an inch.

But as the game wore on, the pressure started to mount. With the score neck-and-neck, the trash talk grew sharper, each jab cutting deeper. Azzi, with a quick hesitation move, crossed Paige up and drilled another three in her face. The crowd went wild as Azzi celebrated, but it was the words that followed that set Paige off.

“I guess that Gatorade Player of the Year really means something, huh?” Azzi quipped, her smile wide and taunting. “I think I earned that one, Bueckers.”

The words hit Paige like a punch to the gut. That recognition — the one that had bothered her for weeks — was now in Azzi’s hands, and the realization that Azzi had just used it against her was too much to handle.

Paige’s eyes narrowed, the fire inside her intensifying.

“Keep talking, man,” Paige snarled, voice low.

The rest of the game continued and Azzi seemed to be in complete control, hitting another deep three in Paige's face and then hitting a step-back jumper that had the crowd roaring. Paige tried to respond, but something in her game was off — whether it was Azzi’s defense or the mounting frustration of the game and the award Azzi had rubbed in her face, she couldn’t find her rhythm anymore.

With the game winding down, St. John’s had gained a slight but undeniable lead. Paige’s shots weren’t falling as easily as they had earlier, and Azzi wasn’t letting up. Each time Paige tried to make a play, Azzi was right there, forcing her to pass or making her take tough looks.

Finally, with just seconds left, Azzi hit another clutch three, sealing the game for St. John’s and finally giving her a win over Paige. The buzzer went off, and Azzi’s team erupted in celebration, the crowd going wild. Paige, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, her chest heaving as the weight of the loss hit her a little harder than it did her freshman year.

As the teams lined up for the post-game handshake, Azzi walked toward Paige, her smile wide with triumph. When they shook hands, Azzi didn’t hold back.

“Guess it’s 1-1 when it counts, huh? Looks like POTY went to the right player after all,” Azzi said, the words dripping with satisfaction.

Paige’s heart felt like it sank to her stomach. The Gatorade loss had already stung, but now Azzi was rubbing salt in the wound. Still, Paige held her composure, her eyes narrowing as she shook Azzi’s hand.

“Congratulations,” Paige muttered, forcing a smile. Paige hated losing but she wasn’t a sore loser. 

But Azzi wasn’t done. As she walked past Paige, she threw in one final jab.

“Maybe you’ll get it next year.” Azzi’s tone was sweet, but the smirk on her face said it all.

Paige watched Azzi go, her jaw clenched tightly. She wanted to say something, anything, to retort, but she knew the damage had already been done. Azzi had gotten her win — and the bragging rights. For now, Paige would have to swallow this defeat and figure out how to come back stronger and take the jabs that were coming her way. 

July 2019 - Azzi POV

I was on top of the world. After winning the championship and being named the Gatorade National Girls Basketball Player of the Year, I felt like nothing could stop me. Playing in the US Under 18 3x3 Tournament was everything I’d worked for, and I was thriving out there. Every move I made felt perfect, every shot dropping like it was scripted. The crowd was eating it up, and I was feeding off the energy.

But just like that, everything changed.

I was driving to the hoop, sizing up my defender, already thinking ahead to my next move to get past them. My first step was quick, explosive like always — exactly how I’d practiced it a thousand times. I planted my foot to make a sharp cut, my body flowing into the motion like it was second nature. But then… something snapped.

It wasn’t the sound of my foot hitting the court. It was a horrible, sickening pop that shot through my leg like it had been on fire. For a split second, everything froze, and I just knew.

My knee. It wasn’t supposed to buckle like that. I didn’t even have time to scream as the pain hit, like a burning wave spreading from my knee up my leg, down to my toes, into my core. I collapsed instantly, my hands going straight to my knee, trying to hold it together as if somehow that would stop the agony.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I couldn’t focus on anything except that searing pain.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, my voice cracking as I tried to breathe through it, my hands gripping my knee as if I could will the pain away. But it only intensified.

I couldn’t move. Every attempt to shift only made it worse. It was like my entire leg was on fire. I barely heard my teammates rushing to my side, their voices muffled as if I was underwater. All I could think was, This isn’t just a twist. This isn’t something I can shake off.

I knew it — deep down, I knew something was wrong. My knee felt swollen already, pulsing with heat. The pop I heard didn’t sound good. Please, please don’t be serious, I thought, even though I knew better. 

“Azzi, what hurts,” my coach said, kneeling beside me, but I barely registered it. All I could think about was how unfair this was. I was supposed to be dominating, supposed to keep riding this wave of success. I was invincible, damn it.

But now, here I was, on the ground, clutching my knee like it was my lifeline — and I had no idea what was next.

The pain started to build, and my mind raced. ACL? No, MCL? My head spun with all the worst-case scenarios. This wasn’t how I imagined this tournament going. This wasn’t how I’d imagined anything going this summer.

My chest tightened as I sat there, trying not to lose it in front of everyone. I didn’t want to break down, didn’t want to show them how scared I was. But I could feel the tears threatening to spill. I wiped them away, blinking rapidly, but it didn’t matter. My body was shaking.

I just wanted to be back on the court. I wanted to keep proving myself, keep pushing. But in that moment, all I could do was sit there and hold my knee, hoping like hell this wasn’t the end.

[purplishalien]

Finally finished with Bonnie's Bullworth ID thing. Okay first things first, yes those are stickers he put on his ID himself and second he's actually an oc I've had for a long time but I'm too lazy to make a new oc for every fandom I join. This is basically an AU (let's treat this as a window into his youth cuz in the early 2020s* he's an adult already), so as of this Bully AU he'll be treated with his respective canon to here and every other AUs I subject him too. *his canon timeline he's in his 20s

Bonnie is an eccentric one and believe it or not even odder than the residents of Bullworth: He's an exchange student from a different school from a different town known as Sunny Isles.

A Program was initiated that 1 student visits a school to experience how the school's curriculum is and if the program students think the school is good to be advertise to more foreign students looking for other school with the desired programs. AKA The Academy can get a lot of money and benefits.

Dr. Crabblesnitch accepted and personally picked out of 100 foreign exchange students that he felt Bonnie wouldn't be too out of place in Bullworth. (Spoilers he was kinda right)

He needed a place to stay, obvious answer was the boys dorm but he's a little bit of a clean freak and what he's seen from the Résumé he is not taking chances and begged his father to put him somewhere but there.

His family is very well off but not ultra rich as the preps are, still more money than the average bullworth student that's not a prep will never see. His father and Dr. Crabblesnitch had a bit of back and fourth but finally settled if they can convince Harrington estate to house him til his program ends.

Somehow they accepted him even though half of the house didn't want some outside commoner to invade their private abode but somehow he got in and now they have to reluctantly provide for the boy.

The moment he got into the school he wasn't fazed some students were trying to kill him, being the cheery freak he is nothing got passed him even when the Bullies were throwing slurs his way. Ngl it creeped some of them out he was so...resilient and odd even for Bullworth standards.

The Prefects were giving him a strong talk down over him not following dress-code, Ms. Denvers the most giving him the nastiest talk that he'll get in trouble if he keeps this up. They gave up after a few hours of not a single change of shame in Bonnie's giant brown eyes. (Dr. Crabblesnitch was letting it happen anyway cuz Bon's father paid double that his son is as comfortable as he can be.)

Bio class isn't his forte as he was a bit squeamish over anything once alive. Everything else he's okay with it.

Small stuff about his thing with some of cliques

Preps: Tad Spencer became his closest prep friend as this not-so-commoner commoner intrigued him. He mostly was amused to watch what antics Bonnie pulled out and pretty much just treated him as his window into the middleclass.

The other house members didn't care as much and mostly ignored him except Pinky who saw him as a new pet to the house, he reminded her of the little porcelain doll her mom bought her once during Christmas.

Pinky treated him just like a doll and put him in her old clothes or gave him all of her outdated accessories as "They were so 5 hours ago".

Spent most of his time in the Harrington House Botanical garden outside despite the rest of the preppies insulting him over becoming a second gardener if he keeps this up, he still sat behind the giant hydrangea's doing his homework besides the bugs.

Greasers: They're mostly hostile to any preppies but today they decided to ignore the new kid that isn't even heavily associated and is just being housed by these snobs.

Lola can't put the charms on him, noticing he's very not interested in girls. She is interested in what lip gloss shade he's using though.

Overall the same sentiment as the other students, a little odd but he's harmless.

Nerds: Oh no, they don't know what's coming especially when the new odd little guy does seem like a nerd like them.

Immediately accept him into their circle for games and nerd stuff, Bon is pretty good to all of them but he's got his eyes set on their nerd leader.

Earnest doesn't even noticed Bonnie's making everything in his power to get the nerd to noticed he wants him. Took the idiot two weeks realized someone actually digs him.

The ongoing game of "will Earnest fumbled this badly?" has now commence. (Okay I'm tired that's enough writing for my small brain can handle)

Bonus fun fact: in game he has his own visual glitch: the lace tassels in his winter outfit are an entirely separate texture but was coded poorly so he shows up in winter without them, making it a 10+ mystery until modders coded it back in.

Moodboard and memes that make me think of him 🍡🌷💕

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Grace

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, implied smut

Summary: You like Dean. You like how he treats you. He’s one of the best boyfriends you’ve ever had. The problem isn’t with him. It’s you. You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

Square Filled: grace- bebe rexha (2020) for @spnsongchallengebingo

Author’s Note: this is based on the song Grace by Bebe Rexha

x

I knew from the moment that I met you this wasn't right But I couldn't leave you 'cause you treated me so damn right There was nothing wrong with you The truth is you’re a damn good guy But I knew from the moment that I met you this wasn't right

You bounce your leg up and down nervously while you wait for your boyfriend. You pick the remaining flecks of nail polish off your nails wondering if should do what you’re thinking of doing. Dean asked to meet at a park while he has some free time from hunting, but you’ve been waiting for at least thirty minutes.

“I’m here. Hey,” Dean says as he jogs up to you.

“Hi.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a smushed bouquet of flowers. You take them with a small smile on your face. “Thank you, Dean.”

It makes what you want to do so much harder. You like Dean a lot, but you don’t think you like him enough to keep this relationship going. You’re not cut out for this. This is one of the rare cases where it’s not him, it’s you. He is such a sweetheart and treats you really well.

He buys you flowers whenever he can, he pays for everything you eat, he always calls you every night regardless of whether he is stuck in the mountains or just lounging at the Bunker, and he makes you feel like the only woman in the world. He’s truly one of the best boyfriends you could have asked for.

That’s why the problem is with you, not with him.

Dean is a hunter who hunts monsters with his brother. He is constantly on the road, always getting himself into trouble. He is constantly riding the very thin line between life and death. He’s very good at what he does and almost always comes home in one piece. At first, you thought you could put aside the fact that he won’t always come home to you at the end of the day, but it really hit you only a few weeks ago.

You want him to be home with you. You want to come home after a long day and see him waiting for you. You want to be able to snuggle up next to him every night and wake up to his face every morning. You want someone whose life isn't threatened every day.

You don’t want to worry about whether or not he’s alive or when he’s coming home or if you’re safe.

“Sam can hold the fort for a few hours, so I was thinking we could go to that restaurant you’ve always wanted to try,” he smiles.

You open your mouth to end this relationship but something entirely different comes out.

“Sounds great, Dean.”

And you had money and cars, looked like a star You loved me so good, I could cry Brought me roses and rings, such beautiful things But I was taught never to lie

Dean grabs a table by the window knowing you love looking out to people watch while you eat. He knows you so well that he orders for you when the waitress comes, and you watch with a pained expression on your face. You try to cover it up by fake smiling but if he truly knows you, then he’d see that something is wrong.

“So, how long are you in town for?” you ask once she leaves.

Hope blossoms in your chest. Maybe he’ll say something different this time. Maybe he’ll tell you that he’s done with this life and he chooses you this time. Though, you know that won’t happen.

“Just the weekend.” There it is. The hope fizzles out. “I gotta leave on Monday.”

“Right,” you whisper.

Dean hates the look on your face. You’re disappointed. He hates doing this to you, but Sam needs him. They’re in the middle of a war between the demons and the angels, and he needs to be back home to aid. If it were up to him, he’d stay but the entire world is counting on him and Sam to fix this.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s fine.”

He knows it’s not, but there is nothing he can say that would make this better. He knows what you want to hear but he can’t say it. You look at your napkin and rip the ends off in tiny pieces. If you look at him, you’ll break down in tears and you don’t want to ruin your makeup. This only confirms that you need to get out of this relationship before you end up killing every part of yourself for him.

He’s trying, you can see it, so you’re not sure how you can do this without breaking his heart.

I knew from the moment that I left you, you'd be alright You're gonna find another lover, one who doesn't waste your time But every time you look at me, my body says one last night I swear I wouldn't leave with you But I just came to say goodbye

With Dean back in Kansas, you have a clear head. You know what you have to do. It’s not going to be easy but you have to do it. It’s shitty to do this over the phone whether that be by call or text, so you decided it’s best if you go to the Bunker in person. You write down everything you want to say on note cards. You’ve memorized every single word but you hold onto the cards in case you take one look into his big green eyes and forget everything.

It takes almost an entire day to get to the Bunker by car, but you make it without issue. You park outside the Bunker and turn off the car. You quickly skim your cards to make sure you have everything you need to say before getting out of the car. You can do this. All you need to do is tell him how you’re feeling. If he loves you, he’ll let you go. He’ll understand.

That doesn’t bring you comfort.

You knock on the metal door and wait for it to open. You put the cards in your back pocket thinking you can do this on your own, but that’s not the case. The door opens and you look into Dean’s impossible bright green eyes. Fanfiction green eyes as the fans call it.

“What are you doing here?” he smiles and pulls you in for a hug.

His arms are so strong and warm, and you find yourself melting into his embrace. That’s your first mistake.

“I just needed to see you. I hope this is a good time.”

“Yeah, we’re not busy. Come in.” Your second mistake is following him inside the Bunker. “Sam is out right now getting food.”

“Good. I kind of wanted to talk to you.”

Dean leans against the war table and pulls you into his arms. He slides his hands down your back to cup your ass through your jeans.

“I’ve missed you.”

He leans in and kisses you, making you forget a single word you wanted to say to him. It’s a damn good thing you brought the cards with you. You slide your hands up his chest to push him away from you, but you bypass his chest to wrap your arms around his neck. He feels too good to let him go. He’s intoxicating, poisoning your life, and making you want more.

“What about Sam?” you whisper against his lips.

“Fuck Sam. I want you as my meal,” he grins.

He lifts you up by your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your third mistake is letting him bring you to his bedroom. Note cards are forgotten. Maybe you can give him one more night.

I hate to see the look on your face I wish I could make myself stay But our hearts don't live in the same space So tell me how to break yours with grace

You really shouldn’t have given him one more night. You need to do this now or else you’ll never do it. You’ve been up for the past hour trying to find the words while Dean sleeps soundlessly next to you. He shifts and presses his lips on your bare shoulder. You easily slip out of bed and start gathering your clothes, and Dean sits up in bed. The blanket falls, exposing his bare chest.

“Where are you going? Come back to bed.”

“Dean, we need to talk,” you say with your back to him.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

It’s cowardly but you can’t do this while looking at him. “Listen, I don’t think we should continue seeing each other. It’s not you, I promise.” There’s no easy way to say this. It’s gonna hurt him even though you wish it didn’t. “I admire what you do, but I can’t keep wondering if and when you’ll come home. I deserve someone who will be home every night. I deserve not to fear for your life. I like you a lot, but I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

“Are you going to look at me?”

Your body feels like cement but you turn to face him. The tears start rolling when you see the look on his face. He can’t be mad at you for wanting what he can’t give you, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. You hate the look he gives you.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“So, is this goodbye?”

“I don’t see any other way for us.” Dean nods but doesn’t say anything else. You finish getting dressed and grasp the door knob. “I really am sorry, Dean.”

“Me, too.”

You swallow down your sob and leave his room. You’re not going to be okay for a long time, but you know this is for the best.

x

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[11queensupreme11]

STOP! NOW I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THEM AS A FAMILY NOW WITH ADAM AS THE FATHER, THE OTHER FIGHTERS AS THE BIG BROTHERS, AND THEN THERE’S BABY PERCY THEIR WITTLE SISTER 🥺

that's because they ARE one big family anon 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

adam's the daddy, obviously. he loves and adores his family, but it's very clear that he dotes the most on percy since she's the only girl out of them and is literally the baby of the family. like, even if her real age (18) was known, she would still be considered the baby cuz the second youngest is simo who would be 115+ years old (since this is set in the 2020s) 😭 that's a big ass age gap LMAO

and then there's the three eldest: buddha (when he defects i mean), leonidas and qin shi huang. buddha's super chill with percy and lets her do whatever as long as she has fun and stays safe. leonidas is awkward at being gentle and tender cuz he's a spartan after all, but he tries his best cuz he's the one percy idolizes. and then there's qin shi huang who's a bitch 💀 unintentionally teaches percy curse words in old chinese, tries to pick petty fights with her only to get scolded by adam cuz the favoritism is real LMAO

lu bu is silent and gruff kinda like leonidas; not exactly doting tho just makes sure she's alive and if she is, then all is good 👍 from what we know about kintoki so far, he seems friendly and cool, but also VERY responsible and reliable (cuz buddha entrusts him with important tasks in the manga). nostradamus.... 💀💀💀💀 well, percy would LOVE to strangle the guy and he's not exactly making it easy cuz he keeps saying stupid shit 💀

there are 14 of the "kids" in all and poor sasaki is LITERALLY the middle child (cuz he's the seventh eldest of the "kids") 😭😭 he's chill tho which is good. funny, peaceful, and relaxed; likes spending most of his days out in nature (and being one with it or whatever the fuck he was doing in that one manga panel) so he lowkey reminds percy of grover. raiden is the more fun brother and personality-wise, is the most similar to percy. would be the one adam would trust the least to babysit percy cuz he would literally let her out past her curfew and ignore her bedtime. also tends to bring thrud into his bedroom for "fun activities" so yeah... he'd be the "bad influence" brother 😭 okita is very battle hungry, but with those he cares about he's a very sweet young man, so he'd be lowkey doting towards percy. also, he was 26 years old when he died (irl i mean) and i feel like that'd still be considered his golden age, so physically he'd be the closest to percy in age, though there's also nostradamus who looks to be 18-early 20s.

TESLA IS THE SMART BROTHER (in academics i mean). he's the one who helps percy with maths and science and in the next chapter, you also learn that he helps percy with her self esteem when it comes to her intelligence (which is huge because literally almost every teacher she's had was a huge jerk to her). jack the ripper is the old wise one who's more of a silent guardian. let's her do her thing, but is always in the background waiting to strike should need be.

as for rasputin.... unfortunately i can't say shit CUZ HE HASN'T BEEN INTRODUCED YET! NOT EVEN A SMALL LITTLE PANEL. PLS I NEED RASPUTIN CRUMBS PLS PLS PLS (and make him a buff daddy too 🥺) 😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyway, simo is the more gentle and soft brother. lowkey would be similar to adam in how he treats percy, but less openly affectionate. he prefers more silent actions than words.

and then lastly, percy. the "baby sister" essentially. the one everyone has to keep an eye on because she's either gonna get kidnapped by a lovesick god, or get into some other form of trouble because she "doesn't know any better" 😂

[kathlare]

my everything

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando share a night shaped by vulnerability, comfort, and the unspoken safety they find in each other.

Wordcount: 3.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 25th, 2020 - Spa, Belgium

The sheets twisted around Amelie’s legs like they were trying to hold her down. Her breaths came in short, shaky bursts as she shot upright in bed, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to her skin like sweat.

She didn’t scream. She never screamed.

But her hands were trembling, chest tight, the silence in the hotel room too loud. The dull amber glow of the streetlights outside spilled across the floor, casting shadows that looked just a little too alive. She dragged a hand through her hair, trying to ground herself. Inhale. Exhale. You’re fine. You’re okay. You’re not there. You're not sixteen again. You're not—

Her fingers curled into the comforter, nails biting into the fabric.

Fuck.

She rolled onto her side, burying her face into the cold pillow. Counted. One, two, three, four… twenty. Still awake.

This was stupid.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to sleep. But the minute she let her mind drift, the images came back. Cam’s voice, that panicked, helpless feeling of not being able to fix what was already lost. The crushing guilt that never fully went away, no matter how much time passed. Her chest ached like it always did after those kinds of dreams—like there was a piece of her missing, and it just kept bleeding.

She didn’t want to wake anyone. She didn’t want to need anything. She hated this. Hated how it still haunted her, how it still felt like something was sitting on her chest all these years later.

But she also knew what would make it better.

And she’d been avoiding it.

She sat up slowly, the hotel duvet slipping off her shoulders. Her phone screen told her it was just past 2:40am. Too late, her brain whispered. Too desperate, it added.

She ignored it.

The floor was cold against her bare feet as she padded across the room. She didn’t bother changing out of her old oversized tee or pulling her curls into any sort of order. She just grabbed her key card, slipped on her face mask, and stepped into the hallway.

Lando’s room was three doors down. She paused in front of it, heart thudding harder now than after the nightmare. She raised her fist and knocked. Light. Hesitant.

Nothing.

She waited.

Knocked again. This time a little louder.

Still nothing.

Her fingers curled into her sleeve. She was about to turn around and give up—fuck, maybe this was a bad idea—when the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Half-asleep, hoodie falling off one shoulder, curls messy and flattened on one side. He blinked at her in slow confusion.

—Amelie?—

She exhaled shakily. —Can I… stay over? Just for a bit.—

She didn’t explain. She didn’t have to.

Lando rubbed a hand over his face, still processing, then stepped aside without saying a word.

She walked past him, quiet, barely breathing, and he shut the door behind them. The room was dim, only a bedside lamp left on, casting soft gold across the carpet. His bed was unmade, obviously. The air smelled like mint and his cologne and something warmer she could never place but always felt like comfort.

She climbed under the blanket without a word.

Lando followed.

The mattress dipped as he settled in beside her, close but not too close. Until she shifted, hesitated—and then let herself lean just an inch toward him.

That was all it took.

He slid his arm around her waist, slow and gentle. She didn’t stop him.

His hand rested lightly against her stomach. Then, without a word, he started the softest rhythm—tiny, slow pats. Comforting. Familiar.

She didn’t speak. Just lay there, letting her muscles unclench one by one.

She felt the heat of his chest at her back. The weight of his arm. The way his thumb brushed once against her shirt, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

And for the first time that night—maybe the first time in days—her breathing began to even out.

She wasn’t fine.

Not really.

But she was here. And he was here. And it was quiet.

That was enough for now.

As her eyes fluttered shut again, she whispered into the dark:

—Thanks, Lan.—

Lando didn’t say anything. Just kept his hand steady. Gentle.

And somewhere between the nightmare and the safety of his arms, Amelie finally fell asleep.

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

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

The morning sunlight seeped through the blackout curtains anyway—sly and golden, brushing over Amelie’s bare legs and warming the exposed skin where the comforter had slipped down. She stirred softly, the distant hum of city traffic and something else—water?—filtering into her brain.

Her eyes cracked open slowly, lashes fluttering. The room was unfamiliar in the way hotels always were, but the sheets smelled like clean laundry and faintly like him, and for a split second she didn’t remember how she’d gotten here.

Then it all came rushing back.

The nightmare. The hallway. Lando.

Her throat tightened.

She rolled over instinctively, half-expecting to see him still there, curls messy on the pillow beside her, face squished in sleep. But the space was empty, sheets still warm. The sound she’d registered earlier—the shower. Still running.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. Her limbs felt heavy with sleep, but not in a bad way. More like… safety. She stretched her arms up, spine cracking, hair falling in wild tangles over her face as she yawned.

The room was still dim, curtains mostly drawn, but the soft clatter of plates caught her attention.

She blinked blearily, then slipped out of bed and padded across the plush carpet. The table near the window had been filled—croissants, fresh fruit, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two steaming mugs. One of them was definitely hot chocolate. Her hot chocolate.

A grin tugged at her lips despite herself.

Lando knew.

She sat down slowly, pulled the plate of eggs toward her, and took a bite. Then another. She was starving. Like she hadn’t eaten properly in days. And for once, her stomach didn’t twist with guilt or resistance—it just accepted the food. Craved it.

She was halfway through her croissant, a dab of jam on the corner of her mouth, when the bathroom door opened.

Lando stepped out in grey sweatpants and a towel slung around his shoulders, curls damp and sticking to his forehead. He paused when he saw her at the table, then gave her a dramatic look.

—Well, thank you for waiting for me.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, lips curving into a smirk as she licked jam off her thumb. —I was literally starving. And you were in there for ages. What were you doing, conducting a full-on spa day?—

Lando scoffed and dragged the other chair out, flopping into it. —Excuse me for having a skincare routine.— He grabbed his toast, then nodded toward her half-empty plate. —You ate the good croissant. That’s criminal behavior.—

She raised a brow, chewing slowly. —I regret nothing.—

They settled into an easy rhythm, the kind that only came with comfort and familiarity. Talk drifted between completely random topics—how Lando had once accidentally FaceTimed Zak Brown with a filter on (a baby dragon, no less), how Amelie was convinced hotel scrambled eggs were better than regular eggs, how Lando still couldn’t wrap his head around the plot of Inception and refused to try.

They didn’t talk about the bed.

Didn’t mention the fact that she’d crawled into it like it was hers. Or the fact that she hadn’t even hesitated this time. Or that he’d held her again, like muscle memory.

They both knew they’d promised not to do this anymore. Not to blur the lines like this.

But maybe they were too good at pretending. Or too afraid to admit they didn’t want to stop.

Lando was in the middle of mimicking George’s impression of Charles (“Mate, eef I spin, I spin. It is what it is.”) when a sharp knock at the door cut through the laughter.

They both froze.

Amelie looked up, eyes wide. Lando instinctively leaned back in his chair like distance would somehow buy them time.

The knock came again, louder this time.

—Shit,— Lando muttered.

—Who is it?— Amelie whispered.

Lando stood slowly, peeking through the peephole.

—Carlos.—

Amelie nearly fell out of her chair. —What the hell is Carlos doing here at...?— She checked the clock on the wall. —9:23 in the morning?—

Lando shot her a look. —Probably trying to drag me to breakfast. You need to hide. Now.—

Amelie scrambled to her feet, grabbing her phone and cradling her hot chocolate like it was a newborn. —Where?—

—Bathroom.—

—Go, go, go.—

She darted across the room, nearly slipping on the hem of his oversized shirt—her oversized shirt now, if this morning counted as some kind of silent claim. The same one she’d slept in. No makeup, hair a storm cloud of loose curls, bare legs and all.

This was not how she wanted Carlos Sainz to find her.

She dove into the bathroom just as Lando pulled the door open.

—Buenos días,— Carlos greeted, sunglasses perched on his head and a coffee in hand. —You alive? I've been texting you for fifteen minutes.—

—Sorry,— Lando said quickly, stepping back. —I was in the shower.—

Carlos gave him a once-over, noting the damp curls, towel still looped around his neck. Then his eyes swept into the room—paused on the breakfast spread, the two plates, the two mugs, one with lipstick smudged faintly on the rim.

His brows arched.

—You had company?—

Lando blinked. —Uh... what?—

Carlos didn’t say anything for a beat. He just walked in without waiting for an invitation and nodded toward the table. —There are two plates. And unless you suddenly eat croissants and scrambled eggs at the same time, someone else was here.—

Lando scratched the back of his neck. His brain was scrambling for a lie, but it was already too late. The air smelled like her shampoo. A small ring sat forgotten on the nightstand. One of her shoes—just one—was under the chair.

Carlos squinted.

—Wait. Did someone spend the night?—

—No,— Lando said too fast. —Well. Not like that.—

Carlos raised a slow eyebrow. —So like… not that, but definitely someone.—

From behind the bathroom door, Amelie pressed a hand to her face and mouthed silently: I hate everything.

Carlos took another step into the room, arms folded, surveying the crime scene like some sort of breakfast detective. His expression wasn’t angry—just amused. And deeply, deeply curious.

—So…— he said, dragging the word out, clearly enjoying the sudden rise of color on Lando’s cheeks. —You definitely had someone over. Who is it? Don’t make me guess, porque voy a empezar con nombres muy incómodos.—

Lando groaned. —Carlos, come on. It's not like that.—

Carlos raised both eyebrows again, pointing to the lipstick-marked mug. —You said that already. But that definitely looks like “like that.” Unless you’ve developed a secret passion for Charlotte Tilbury lip liners.—

Lando threw a napkin at him. —Can you not be this annoying before ten a.m.? I’m too tired.—

—Tired, huh? Funny.— Carlos gave him a pointed look and flopped down onto the edge of the unmade bed like he owned the place. The springs squeaked under him. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. —Is it someone I know? Wait. Is it someone we know?—

Lando didn’t answer. Which, of course, was an answer.

Carlos blinked.

Then he grinned.

—No. No fucking way. It’s not… Is it someone from the paddock? Lando… tell me it's not one of the PR girls. Please, I can't do a "We just vibe" situation.—

Lando scrubbed a hand over his face. His heart was racing, panic clawing up his throat. Because this was spiraling fast. And Amelie was in the bathroom, probably listening to every single word, and if Carlos kept talking like this—

—Carlos, drop it.— His voice came out sharp. Too sharp. Defensive in a way that made Carlos’ grin twist into something far more intrigued.

Carlos sat back a little, resting his elbows on his knees. —Bro… who is it? You're acting weird. Wait.—

He looked toward the bathroom.

Lando stiffened.

Carlos’ eyes narrowed. —Is she still here? Holy shit, is she in the bathroom right now?— He stood up like he was going to go check and Lando stepped in front of him immediately, arms wide like a human barricade.

—Carlos, no. Seriously. Drop it.—

Carlos raised his hands innocently. —Okay, okay, damn. Protective much? Must be someone important.—

Lando didn’t say anything.

Which, again, was an answer.

Carlos’s brow furrowed slowly. Something shifted in his face, thoughtful and a little wary. He stared at Lando for a second, then said:

—Does Amelie know?—

Lando blinked. —What?—

—About whoever this is. I mean, you’re not exactly subtle when it comes to her. Everybody knows you’ve had a thing for her since, like, 2019.—

Lando’s breath hitched.

Carlos didn’t notice. He just kept going, totally unaware that every word was a grenade now. —You remember Barcelona last year? When she came to the paddock and you couldn’t speak for twenty minutes? I thought George was going to pass out from secondhand embarrassment.—

Lando's face had gone pale.

Inside the bathroom, Amelie sat on the closed toilet lid, knees pulled up to her chest, her heart slamming in her ribcage. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop. She hadn't meant to hear that.

But now she had.

And it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Carlos was laughing now, oblivious. —Honestly, man, I don’t know how you didn’t combust that day. You kept staring at her like she was made of starlight or something. It was embarrassing.—

—Carlos.— Lando’s voice was quiet, clipped. He wasn’t looking at him anymore. Just staring at the floor like it might open and swallow him whole.

Carlos didn’t get the hint. —I mean, you guys are close, yeah, but Amelie? She’s… I don’t know. She’s like...— He searched for the word. —Untouchable. Not in a mean way, but come on. She’s Amelie. You’re just you.—

That did it.

Lando stepped back and opened the door. —Get out.—

Carlos blinked, startled. —What?—

—I said get out.— Lando’s voice was low now, steady in a way that made the air shift. His jaw was clenched, eyes hard. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

Carlos stood frozen for a second, caught off-guard by the sudden change in energy. —Bro, I didn’t mean...—

—Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t matter. Just go.—

Carlos looked at him, searching for something—apology, explanation, maybe even a laugh. But Lando didn’t move. His grip on the door tightened.

—Okay,— Carlos said finally, more subdued now. He backed up a step, then another, and paused in the hallway. —Sorry. I didn’t mean to push.—

Lando didn’t reply.

The door shut softly behind him.

Silence fell, thick and echoing.

Inside the bathroom, Amelie hadn’t moved. Her hand was still over her mouth, fingertips pressed to her lips like she could force the flood of emotions back down her throat. Her mind was spiraling.

You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to her.

Everybody knows.

You’re just you.

She stood slowly, palms pressed to the cool counter, staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes wide. Her chest felt tight in a way that wasn’t panic or shame—it was something deeper, something closer to panic’s twin: realization.

She opened the door quietly.

The room was still. Lando stood with his back to her, hands on the edge of the table, shoulders drawn tight. The echo of Carlos’ words still lingered like smoke.

You’re just you.

But to her, he wasn’t just anything.

He turned slightly when he heard her, eyes flicking to her reflection in the mirror above the minibar. His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Amelie stepped forward, slowly. Her legs felt like glass. —You okay?—

He nodded once. Too quickly. —Yeah. Fine.—

She didn’t believe him. Not even for a second.

She stopped a few feet away, hands clenched in the hem of her shirt. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged. Alive. Like it was brimming with everything they weren’t saying.

She looked at the table. At the two mugs. The one with her lipstick. The one Carlos had pointed at.

Her gaze drifted back to Lando. His eyes were on the carpet now.

He hadn’t even looked at her.

That stung more than it should have.

She bit her lip. The words came out soft, almost too gentle for the weight they carried. —You’re not just you.—

His eyes snapped to hers.

She swallowed hard, stepping closer. Her voice was steadier now, laced with the tremble of truth finally spoken. —At least not to me.—

Lando blinked, caught in place. Caught in her.

Amelie didn’t wait for him to speak. Didn’t wait for the fear or the doubt or the thousand reasons they’d always said not now. She just closed the space between them and cupped his jaw in both hands, rising up on her toes.

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t frantic or explosive. It wasn’t even long.

But it was full.

Of everything she hadn’t said. Of everything she felt every time she looked at him and saw home. It was warmth and wonder and a little ache at how long she’d kept it all locked inside.

Lando didn’t move at first.

Then he did.

His hands found her waist, curling into the fabric of the shirt she was still wearing—his shirt—and he kissed her back like he couldn’t believe she was real. Like he was afraid he’d wake up.

When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, breath warm between them.

—Say it again,— he whispered.

Her thumb brushed his cheek.

—You’re not just you. Not to me.—

He closed his eyes, and for a long moment, they just stood there.

Wrapped in a silence that didn’t need to be filled. Because, somehow, everything had already been said.

But it was only the beginning.

[writerinlearning]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘����𝐮𝐫𝐬 | Part. One.

plot: after playing on the Orpheum stage and being saved by Julie from Caleb’s curse, Luke looks for reader, determined to tell her how he feels, but he wasn’t expecting to find her in a hospital bed, fighting for her life.

pairing: ghost!luke patterson x molina!fem!reader | julie molina x cousin!fem!reader

show: julie and the phantoms

warnings: mentions of car accident, drunk driving (please, never drive while intoxicated), blood, hospital

word count: 4,5k

author’s notes: english is not my first language, apologies for any mistakes. this is the second version of this fic. first version has been unpublished. reader is julie’s cousin on her father’s side, and she can see the boys too. i used the song heart like yours from the if i stay movie. this fic is also sorta based on said movie. there’s a second part planned for this fic.

luke patterson masterlist || part. two. || main masterlist

Los Angeles, 2020

Playing the Orpheum was everything Luke expected. Except for what came after. As soon as he got off the stage, Luke went to find Julie, Alex, and Reggie, to celebrate, but most importantly, he wanted Y/N to celebrate with them. Imagine his surprise when he got told that she wasn’t backstage after the show, nor was she home when they returned to Julie’s place. They looked for her all night, to no avail, and Luke kept on looking for her in the morning, until Julie showed up to the studio with the bad news. 

Luke never thought he’d hear those words in his life, but as soon as the words leave Julie’s mouth, his entire world comes crumbling down. Y/n had gotten in an accident on her way back home from the Orpheum after Julie and the Phantoms’ performance last night. Her car had been hit by a drunk driver speeding down the opposite lane, his vehicle diverting onto Y/n’s lane before the collision. It had sent Y/n flying in the driver’s seat, hitting her head badly against the dashboard whilst the windshield shattered when her car rolled over on the hood, sending shards of glass everywhere. And when the medics got to the accident scene, Y/n was already fighting to stay alive. She was barely breathing as they extracted her from the broken vehicle and carefully placed her onto a stretcher, putting an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Blood was dripping from the large cut that began on her forehead and went down to her left cheekbone, pieces of the windshield stuck into her collarbones and arms. The medics had hauled her into the ambulance and, as soon as the back doors had been closed, the vehicle sped down to the Los Angeles Community Hospital, the closest from the accident scene. 

When Julie woke up that morning, after playing the Orpheum, she hadn’t expected to see her father with his head in his hands, and his cell phone unlocked in front of him. Her brother, Carlos, wasn’t around, and she found it strange that he was nowhere to be seen. Sunday was usually family breakfast, and it was important to them since her mother passed away. 

She then spotted Reggie, who had a habit of joining the Molina family for breakfast, even though he couldn’t eat anything and was only seen by Julie and Y/n. He loved being in their presence, and when he noticed Julie standing in the room, his face fell; he was anticipating Julie’s reaction to the news her father would soon break to her. And he had every right too, for as soon as Ray noticed his daughter and the words fell past his lips, Julie fell to her knees on the wooden floor of the kitchen, taking her head in her hands while letting out soft sobs. Her shoulders were shaking, and Reggie wanted nothing more than to hug her, the one he had come to consider his sister, but decided against it since he knew it’d look weird to Ray, if his daughter were to hug the air. Hopeless, Reggie watched as Ray stood from the chair he was sitting on and crouched down beside Julie, holding her tightly in his arms, Carlos erupting from the living-room to join the rest of his family. 

Julie only finds the courage to go into the studio after midday, the memories of playing and singing with both her mom and Y/n being too painful. She doesn’t know what happens next, but Luke has the right to know. And yet, to Julie it felt like the story was repeating itself, except this time, an accident would take her cousin away from her, and not an illness. She doesn’t want to put Luke through the same pain she’s had to go through, after losing her mom, but someone has to tell Luke about Y/n, about what happened to her. 

Julie knows the lead guitarist has a thing for her cousin, but as far as she is concerned, he’s never acted on his feelings because he is a ghost and Y/n, well, she is very much alive. Luke thought it would never work, so he kept his feelings for himself, but it never stopped Julie, Alex or Reggie to tease poor Luke whenever Y/n entered the garage with a bright smile on her lips, ready to watch them rehearse. 

When Julie breaks down the news about her cousin to him, Luke is frozen in place, the sole of his feet glued to the ground and his face void of all emotions as he tries to process the heart-wrenching truth. Y/n, his Y/n, had been in a car accident and is now fighting for her life that was hanging on a thread. His hands begin to shake, and he has to turn them into fists to control himself. A single tear rolls down his cheek, escaping the corner of his eye, and although he’s a ghost, he could swear his heart was frantically beating under his ribcage. He wants to scream, to turn back time and let Y/n know how he feels about her, that he would find a way to break away from Caleb’s curse before it’s too late. Somehow, he did find a way last night, but he couldn’t tell Y/N. He couldn’t tell her because a stupid drunk driver had run into her car and she was now fighting for her life. Luke lets out a shaky exhale, his feet moving of their own accord towards Julie.

“Where is she?” He asks the girl, voice trembling and barely above a whisper.

“She’s been transferred to the Los Angeles Community Hospital.” Julie answers, swallowing the growing lump in her throat. “Tío Antonío called dad… said she is stable for now… but she is in a comatose state, and they don’t know when or if she’ll wake up…”

Luke slowly nods his head, the world surrounding him falling apart as Julie’s words echoes in his mind. Last night had probably been his last chance to tell her how he felt, but he was so preoccupied about fighting Caleb’s curse and playing the Orpheum to cross over, that he didn’t even get the opportunity to talk to her. It was his only regret from last night, not being able to speak with her. 

Julie tries to reach out for his hand, hoping to bring him comfort, but Luke poofs away right in front of her, leaving her standing in the middle of the studio. A sigh stumbles past her lips, and she wipes away the tears that have involuntarily fallen down her cheeks. She knows where Luke is headed, but she cannot find the strength in her to go and visit her cousin as well. And who could blame her, when the Los Angeles Community Hospital was the same one in which her mother passed away only a year ago. 

“You okay Jules?”

Julie lifts her head up, her eyes locking with Alex’s, who’s standing in front of her with his brows pulled together in concern. She exhales a long and slow breath, closing her eyes for a brief instant as she pinches the bridge of her nose to gather her thoughts. Alex doesn’t know about Y/N yet; no one has told him.

“Y/N’s in the hospital…” Julie tells Alex, nervously playing with her fingers. “I just told Luke… He’s gone to see her, I think. Some drunk driver crashed into her car last night, when she was on her way home from the Orpheum–”

“Y/N’s in the hospital?” Alex asks her as if he’s misunderstood her. “Is she okay? Oh my god! Are you okay, Julie? Shit, I– I’m sorry, oh my god! I’m–”

Alex’s words come to a stop when he feels a pair of arms around his torso, and when he looks down, he sees that Julie has wrapped her arms around him for comfort. He can only understand her pain; but he can never know how it truly feels to be afraid to lose your cousin, barely a year after losing your mom. He was the one to die first in his family, so he had no idea what it was to lose a family member. 

Julie lifts her head when she feels Alex’s arms around her shoulders, and she gives him a broken smile as the two stay surrounded by the silence in the studio, grieving out their emotions..

—

Luke paces inside the hospital’s hallway, eyes glancing back and forth between the floor and the little window on the door numbered 316. The whiteness of the walls, the scent of the morphine and all sorts of medicine make his stomach churn, nose scrunching up in disgust. Had he been alive, he knows he’d have thrown up on the floor right here and there.

He watches as nurses travel back and forth between patients’ rooms, some being in a hurry while others take their time, but his gaze always comes back to the two nurses in Y/N’s room. He can see them through the round window on the door; they’re chatting together before they begin to explain to Julie’s father the state Y/N is in, as her own father is away on a work trip and still trying to find a flight back home to be with his daughter. Ray Molina is the only relative Y/N has right now, thus making him her legal guardian until her father comes back to Los Angeles. 

Gnawing on his lower lip, Luke glances at the clock hung on the wall at the floor’s entrance, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. All he wants is to be by Y/n’s side, hold her hand and tell her everything that has happened after playing the Orpheum. He wants to tell her how he feels about her; he wants to see her smile and kiss those pink lips of hers. Now that he is able to touch Julie, he firmly believes he’ll be able to touch Y/n as well. And he couldn’t wait to tell her all about it; to hold her in his arms and run his hands through her hair as she rests her head in his lap. Even if she’s the only person able to see him, aside from Julie, they could have a perfectly normal relationship. Well, not quite normal, but they could do what any living couple could.

Luke is quickly pulled out of his reverie when the sound of three voices and a door creaking open reaches his ears. He lifts his head to see Ray greeting the two nurses with a wave of his hand before he lets out a long and heavy sigh. Luke waits for what seems to be hours, before Ray retreats to the elevators, probably to get himself something from the cafeteria. The guitarist takes it as his opportunity to enter Y/N’s room without anyone noticing the door opening and closing on its own.

With his feet deeply anchored to the ground, he is met with the beeping sound from the heart monitor connected to the girl lying unconscious on the bed, covered in bandages and stitches. Y/N is hooked to a breathing machine, thinner tube into the breathing tube going down her throat. A cannula is wrapped around her head; the two little tubes sticking into her nostrils to help her breathe. She has a feeding tube linked to the crook of her arm, through which Luke guesses she’s receiving liquids and nutrients to keep her hydrated and healthy until she wakes up from her coma. If she wakes up. Luke can see that other IVs and wires are connected to her body, but he has no idea what they are for; he just knows they’re here to keep her alive for as long as she has the strength to fight for her life.

He finally finds the strength to move from his spot after what seems like hours, and he pulls a chair closer to her bed before he sits down on it. His hazel green eyes fall onto the bruises scattered across her paper pale skin; on her collarbones and upper-chest, as well as on her arms where the IVs and wires are stuck into her skin. He notices the stitches on her face, from her forehead and down to her left cheekbone, dried blood sticking at her hairline. A large bandage has been wrapped around her head, and Luke recalls one of the nurses telling Julie’s father that Y/N had hit her head pretty hard against the dashboard of her car upon impact with the drunk driver’s vehicle.

Luke swallows the lump in his throat, the tears brimming his eyes now rolling down his cheeks to end their course on his thighs. He leans over the mattress, gently grabbing Y/N’s left hand in his right one, feeling the coldness of her skin against his own. His hand not falling through makes his heart flutter, that is if he still had a heart beating, but he isn’t in the right mindset to enjoy the little change. Instead he finds himself rubbing his calloused thumb against her knuckles, feeling the cuts on her skin under his touch, while he brushes his left hand through her hair in a gentle way. He begins to softly hum the melody of a song he’s been working on for the past week. He still hasn’t told anyone about it; he wants it to be a surprise to the person he’s writing it for. It isn’t finished yet, but it brings him a sense of comfort as he watches Y/N’s chest heave up and down with the help of the breathing machine. He wants to speak to her, let her know he’s right beside her, but his voice gets caught up in his throat as he lets out a shaky sob, removing his hand from her hair to put it over his mouth.

She looks so peaceful, lying there and tucked under the bedsheets, but he knows she isn’t asleep; the IVs, drips and wires are a clear sign for it. But he tries to convince himself as she’s indeed sleeping, and that she’s about to wake up to give him her most beautiful smile, the same one which had him fall deep down the rabbit hole the first time she had ever smiled at him. But then again, things do not go the way Luke wants them to go. The heart monitor’s steady beeping sounds increase in a more erratic one, Y/N’s body beginning to shake and spasm uncontrollably. His eyes widen in panic, body jerking back at the sudden change in the room, and he frantically looks around for anything.

Just then, the door opens and Ray rushes forwards. Julie is there too now, and Luke can see how she doesn’t dare to step past the door frame. She stays in the hallway, hopelessly watching her dad pushing on a red button on the remote by the bed. Luke stands still, his mind blank and empty of any thought. He’s only pulled out from his stoic state when Alex poofs right beside him and tugs at his arm to take him out of the room, just as nurses rush inside to care for Y/N.

The minute he’s out of room 316, Luke falls to his knees and takes his head in his hands. He can still feel Reggie and Alex beside him, but he doesn’t have the heart to ask them to leave him alone. He needs his friends, and as much as he wants to be left alone, he knows he needs them to stay here; to keep him grounded.

—

A month goes by, and still no improvements to Y/N’s state. Her father has managed to come back from his working trip, and he’s spent as much time as he could by his daughter’s side; Ray only taking his brother’s place when Antonío had to deal with urgent matters at work. Sometimes, when they aren’t at school, Julie and Carlos would join their father at Y/n’s side, and they would tell their cousin about their day. Julie also speaks about the band, and how they managed to get a record deal a week after playing the Orpheum. 

Luke, however, spends each of his days at the hospital. He tries not to ditch rehearsals with the band, but Julie, Alex, and Reggie know what he’s going through, and they always understand when sometimes he doesn’t show up. During the month he spends at the hospital, Luke witnesses Y/N’s heart stop twice, and the fear of losing her grows stronger whenever he steps past the door frame. He always brings his song book and guitar with him, working on his song to change his mind. Today is no exception.

Luke carries his guitar case in one hand, opening the door numbered 316 before stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him. He knows Julie is still in high school, and that Carlos has a baseball practice with his dad and Reggie, probably. Alex is probably off somewhere with Willie, having found him again on Hollywood boulevard two weeks after playing the Orpheum, and now they’re seeing each other in secret, hoping that Caleb never finds out about it. Luke also knows Y/N’s father wouldn’t be here today, having been held off at work for something important. So, besides the nurses that drop by once in a while to check on Y/N’s vitals, he’s completely alone with her.

He sits down in his usual spot, on the chair pulled by the hospital bed, and he places the leathered guitar case as his feet, opening the latches to take out his praised instrument. He begins to tune it, remembering the day he had heard one nurse telling Ray that Y/N could still hear people talk next to her, which had, for a short moment, brought a smile to Luke’s lips. He shakes his head at the thought, leaning down to grab his song book and opening it to a page at the end. His messy handwriting litter the paper, but in big letters at the top are written the words “HEART LIKE YOURS”.

It’s the song he’s been working on, without his friends’ knowledge of the song ever existing. It’s the song he’d planned to reveal to everyone by singing it to his special someone; his Y/N. He doesn’t know when or if she’ll wake up, nor does he know if he’ll ever have the chance to tell her the song is for her, but he’s finally finished writing and composing it the previous night, and he wants her to hear it at least once. Luke gently plucks the strings of his instrument, a soft sound echoing inside the room. He knows he won’t be visible to anyone who might come inside upon hearing the music, since Julie isn’t singing with him, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. He has to tell Y/N how he feels about her, even if she may never wake up, and the best way for him to express his feelings is through music.

“Breathe deep, breathe clear,” Luke begins to sing softly, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “Know that I’m here. Know that I’m here, waitin’.”

His voice waver a little, and he closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply to once again focus on his song. His fingers keep on delicately strumming the strings of his instrument, the sound of his voice soft and echoing around the room; the sound of the heart monitor muffled by the melody he’s producing.

“How could a heart like yours–” Luke sings the chorus, his hazel green eyes now focused on Y/N, “–ever love a heart like mine? How could I live before? How could I have been so blind? You opened up my eyes. You opened up my eyes…”  

Luke pours his feelings into the song, meaning every word he sings to her as more tears cascade down his cheeks, but never once does he begin to sob. If Y/N is even able to hear him, even in a coma, he’d go through with his song, wanting her to know exactly how he feels; how he feels about her.

“Sleep sound, sleep tight–” Luke begins the second verse, eyes glancing down at his song book for a second. “–here in my mind. Here in my mind, waitin’. Come close my dear, you don’t have to fear. You don’t have to fear, waitin’.” He swallows the lump in his throat, keeping on strumming the strings softly while he takes a deep breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

He whisper-sings the pre-chorus and stops his strumming. He lifts himself from the chair and hovers over Y/N, his tears hitting the pillow under her head while he swings his guitar behind his back. Luke closes his eyes, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead as more tears roll down his cheeks to end their course on Y/N’s cold skin. When he sits back on the chair, he begins to pluck the strings of his instrument again, picking up the song where he stopped it, and his wavering voice joins the melody to sing the chorus, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

“Hold fast, hope.” He reaches the bridge, sniffling. “All your love is all I’ve ever known.”

And yes, her love might only have been platonic towards him, but it’s all he’s ever known, alive or dead. Back in the 90s, he wasn’t much into the dating thing, and he’d rather focus on the band. Though he did have a fling with Alex, it didn’t last long and the two remained friends from that time onwards, and Sunset Curve had never been better. Well, until him, Reggie and Alex died from bad hot dogs in 1995. So yes, Y/N’s love for him, however platonic it is, it’s all he’s ever known, and he’s afraid to lose her. He’s afraid he’s been too late to admit his feelings.

“How could a heart like yours,” he sings the last chorus, thinking back to all the memories he has of her. “–ever love a heart like mine? How could I live before? How could I have been so blind? You opened up my eyes… you opened up my eyes…”

Luke’s fingers keep strumming on the strings as he sings the outro, inhaling sharply as he ends the song with one final melody. He wipes the tears on his cheeks with the sleeves of the plaid jacket he’s decided to wear today, putting his cherished instrument back into its case, followed by his song book before he closes it. He glides the chair against the tiled floor, making a terrible sound as he pulls it closer to Y/N’s bed. The guitarist takes her left hand in his right one, and he begins rubbing his sore thumb against her knuckles in circles. Luke then leans his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you, Y/N.” There. He finally said it, though he wishes it was under other circumstances. “I’ve always loved you…” His voice wavers. “The way you smile, and crinkles appear at the corner of your eyes. Or the way you’d jump around, listening to the Sunset Curve demo after it brought me, Reggie and Alex back to the studio… I remember when you got mad at us for ditching Julie on the night of the dance, and I had never felt so mad in my life, or afterlife–” Luke chuckles. “ –before. You stayed mad at us for three whole days, until Julie pleaded with you to forgive us like she did. We even had to sing a song to convince you.”

He pauses, leaning back into the chair to take a look at her peaceful state. Her hair lays around her head like a halo on the pearly white pillow case, her body carefully tucked under the bed sheets as her hands rest on her stomach. Luke can see her breathing pattern with the up and down movement of her chest, and the steady beeping of the monitor to his right lets him know that her heart is still beating. There’s a ray of the sun that peaks through the half-opened curtains in the room, casting its light on her serene frame, and she looks even more like an angel.

“I, I–” He stutters, his voice breaking. “I know you’ve been fighting so hard to stay, and as much as– as much as I want you to keep fighting for your family, for us, I–” A pause, followed by a deep breath. “I’ll understand if you want to let go. I promise to keep an eye on your cousins, for as long as I shall walk this Earth as a ghost…” A sob rips from his chest, but he’s the only one who can hear it. He reaches for her hand one last time, and then– “You can let go now…” 

Luke says as his voice wavers, breaking down completely. He lets go of her hand to bury his head between his knees after pulling up his legs against his chest, finding himself in some kind of fetal position on the chair he’s been occupying for the last month. He can’t bring himself to look at her again, not when the beeping from the monitor grows louder and faster. His breath gets caught up in his throat, and he feels like drowning whenever a hiccup rips from his chest. His grief grows heavier, but he cannot find the strength to leave the room knowing it’ll be the last time he’ll ever see her. He knows there’s a slim possibility for her to become a ghost after she passes away, but he doubts she has any unfinished business to keep her on Earth. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying and unable to move from his chair, but the sun has settled down behind the horizon when he finally looks up. His ears catch on to the steady sound of the monitor, and his brows furrowed in confusion. Didn’t it grow faster just a few minutes ago? He glances at the clock above the hospital bed. 08:15 pm. He’s stayed here too long, he needs to get back to Julie’s garage; let his bandmates know where he’s been the whole day, even if they already guessed it. 

Reluctantly, he motivates himself to rise from his chair, picking up the leathered guitar case at his feet in the process. Slowly, he makes his way towards the door, and when his hand reaches for the metallic doorknob, he looks over his shoulder one last time.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His words come out as a whisper hanging around in the pristine white room. His mind becomes overwhelmed with memories of Y/N, of her smile, her laughter, and of the sound of her voice, so much that he fails to notice the monitor picking up, and the muffled coughs that come from the bed.

“Lu– Luke?”

The guitarist stops dead in his walk, halfway through the door frame, as a hoarse voice reaches his ears; a voice, however muffled it was, he thought he would never hear again.

[satubby]

•Daddy's girl Second part•

[See your face smile once again]

Here is the part before this (Maybe it doesn't even make sense but god, it was 2020, we still barely knew about Kenjaku)

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

He hears through the gloom, the crunch of bones and the sound of the city… or maybe it was his hallucination?

Satoru feels like he is in a deep ocean, drowning... Darkness surrounds him, like deep waters that drag him out of his consciousness or perhaps drown him, he no longer knows anything and he doesn't want to keep thinking about it.

Death, the feeling of loneliness that has always accompanied him... even after Suguru Geto left him alone, you had never left him, you were his daughter and yet he ignored you until it was too late to realize. The only thing that made him feel happy, the only human that saw him as Satoru and not the strong cursed sorcerer that was the imbalance in this world of witchcraft. YOU WERE his daughter... but you couldn't be with him anymore, because you were dead and before that your relationship with him was distant.

He remembers that by the time he realized how much you had distanced yourself from him, his feelings no longer mattered to you, just as he once never cared about yours... By then you were an abandoned and alone girl, surrounded by death and a father who left her to not face his fears and blinded by the pain of losing a friendship.

So although he will try his best to repair it, you no longer wanted to know anything about him even when you lived in the same house, you didn't even give him a look or a word. Maybe that's why he tried to be a better father than when he was young and stupid.

You could call it a good thing, it's kind of cute, right? But for someone broken like you, their love was false and although Satoru could see that you really wanted to accept it, in the end the pride of both of you and your injuries prevented you from getting closer. He regrets having left you alone, when you barely knew about the world, and he left you in the hands of others, fearing that when you saw him you would ask for Suguru. That you complained to him for killing his own friend who was like your uncle.

It was stupid if he's honest, looking at current things...he shouldn't have pushed you away believing you'd be better off if he didn't confront you and instead showered you with material things. Satoru did not know how to really love and now that he was lying on the ground, smiling and trusting his students... He realizes again that despite the pride of both of them, you continued to love him as your father, moments before your death how you smiled at him by hugging him and dragging yourself towards him in your last minutes alive.

It may sound selfish on his part, but he really wishes he had said 'I love you' to you even though you were mad at him for leaving you alone, for yelling at you in his teenage and young adult days, at you, his precious little sunshine.

For once he wants to be selfish, he really does, just this once... Damn!! His heart has begun to stop beating, his half is split in two, he laughs coughing up black blood... This fight may be a loss but he smiles knowing that maybe it's karma for leaving you to your fate, saving so many lives but at the expense of yours and his, which if you think about it, wasn't worth it that much.

At this thought, something new crossed his mind: Your beautiful face had not left his memories. Your expression before being hugged by him... His beautiful baby, moments before he died.

He remembers every detail of you and when you played in the bathtub with the rubber ducks, you and Suguru smiling at him, but now those are just memories, of when you both lived and how Shoko used to hit him for heating the powdered milk too much. He misses his friends, you more than anyone...

Satoru wonders, would it have been different if he hadn't left you alone and stayed by your side? He regrets having pushed you away, that you should have made your decisions in the face of his emotional abandonment and all because he was still mourning Geto, forgetting about your existence, longing and lonely like him.

"Tired" was his only answer to that simple question. That's the obvious. Look at his current state... Time, time, Sukuna looks at him, whispers words that he honestly no longer cared about and didn't listen to... his time in this place is over.

"I'm sorry my dear students... I'm sorry my mochi" And although he became a wandering being of revenge until he ran into Sukuna in Megumi's body after having killed the elders, he finally found the peace he was looking for so much. Only the king of curses can kill him now that he himself has become the thing he most swears to purge.

Then Satoru stops breathing, being 'exorcised' and so he lets himself sink into the sea of blissful death.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

The abyss became deeper, his soul fell slowly, Satoru stopped feeling little by little and the only thing he thought while he felt currents of darkness passing through him... was that lullaby.

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

The letters came and went, in the distance as if the water swallowed them, the former special sorcerer felt numb floating in nothingness, only the light of something peeking in the mist of the dark sea

The other night, dear, as I laid sleepingI dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistakenSo I hung my head and cried

Then he understood that that voice is his, Satoru smiles inwardly, that lullaby which he sang to you when you were distressed, to apologize for leaving you alone on dark nights.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

And before the last syllable of the song, he felt hands grab his face, giving him a hug, Satoru cried in silence when he saw you there, his little sun and his beloved mochi—His abandoned baby...

"Come back, dad... Do it right this time, I'll forgive you for everything!" Your voice sounded in his mind as your soul enveloped him and you walked away, letting him fall into the abyss. And like a shock of reality, Satoru opened his eyes standing in front of the bathroom, on the other side you could hear tears and sobs, it was you, well you seemed younger.

He was surprised to see himself alive and— Younger, he looked like he was in his 20's and that meant that you were 4 years old. He was happy, but then memories ran through his mind, hitting him with headaches.

Moments before you had come home from school with your babysitter, you had shown him a drawing you made for him but he ignored you, saying he was busy and you complained to him crying because he also forgot your dance recital... Which leads to why you are locked in the bathroom.

Trembling, he approaches the lock opening the door, you were curled up with swollen eyes full of tears, uncomfortable, the albino approached you, crouching down and being clumsy when hugging you.

"Shh! Ota-chan is sorry for yelling at you earlier my little one, I was stressed and I shouldn't have said those things to you, will you forgive your fool Ota-chan?" Your eyes looked at him and despite your tears, you hugged him, of course you were still that lonely and vulnerable girl who begged for his attention.

"...Ota-chan is a fool, you left (Y/N) alone at the recital, it hurt a lot" You complained looking at him with a pout, Satoru hugged you getting up with you and kissing your cheek, this time you would have ALL of his attention.

"Ota-chan I'm sorry my baby, I promise that even if I'm busy, I'll come see you and we can go for a walk... What do you want me to do to make it up to you hmm?"

His voice softens as he speaks to you, he no longer dares to be harsh with you, after everything that will happen in the future, at least if he can't stop it, he will protect you.

"Are you seriously going to make it up to (Y/N)? W-well if you don't mind, (Y/n) wants to go to the park" You didn't even turn to look at him which he understood, after years of ignoring you and emotionally abusing you in cold ways, he understood your fear.

"Then it will be Tokyo Disneyland! But for that we must bathe you, and we will clean that beautiful face, it seems that you have a duck's mouth for eyes hahaha" Satoru mocked, playing with you and pulling on your baby cheeks.

"Ota-chan, don't make fun of (Y/N)'s beautiful eyes! You were guilty!" You sulked, grabbing his hair and pulling it, then you laughed when you saw his pained faces, but he didn't even say anything to you, you're still a girl, he must be a better dad for you.

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

For the next few days he pampered and loved you, when before he would forget to go to your school projects with Nanami or Shoko going in his place, now he never missed even if he had to threaten the higher ups letting them know that their old asses were still alive because that's how he wanted it, if he killed them like he did before, it would bring a lot of chaos and the truth is he doesn't want to do so much paperwork and much less stay away from you.

He also made sure to spend hours playing with you, showering you or having bubble battles and even inviting Megumi over (well technically Megumi lived with you even though she spent time studying) He also bought you a polaroid camera, it seemed like you loved taking photos.

Little by little Satoru saw his relationship with you blossom and you opened up little by little, coming to love him as he loves you. He thought they would be happy until— What was supposed to happen happened, Yuta and all the events that came after he came under his tutelage.

Due to the many problems that his old friend caused him, Satoru did not want to see the scene where he had to kill him again, he did not want to and he even stood watching it. Geto smiled at him, saying that he sure looked pathetic, that he understood the path he took but that Satoru shouldn't feel guilty.

That night he came home reliving his memories and emotions, even though it has already happened twice he can't get over it, but unlike the past (future?) you were there hugging him, you were a very smart girl and you didn't ask anything, just hugging him.

"It hurts a lot right, Ota-chan? (Y/N) won't ask questions, she's there for you" Satoru smiled and cried, only you could comfort him, he clung to you and whispered a lot of 'I love you my baby', not this time he hid his pain under happiness and you simply decided to play to take care of him, but that simple game distracted him from his pain.

"Tonight, you will be a patient and (Y/N) the doctor!!" You laughed as you spent the entire night playing with him until you fell asleep. When he took you to the bed, he smiled softly, kissing your forehead and letting you sleep, little did you both know that your pure love would turn crazy and passionate.

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

It was your 8th birthday, Satoru had made sure to give you the best party and although you had video calls with your acquaintances and his to congratulate you, something very deep inside him that had been brewing since he went back in time and killed his friend again, somewhat selfish and paranoid. Maybe that's why you didn't have many friends, only Megumi and those from the jujutsu technical school, maybe he was VERY selfish by monopolizing your time.

But Satoru loved having you close and his many past/future regrets made him act like this. For 4 years he has been isolating you, you no longer go to school and you have private tutors, he fears that you want to leave like in the past, that others will monopolize your time when you could well do it with him. What if it was excessive? He was, but he didn't care about other people's opinions and even if his coworkers and friends told him that it was bad to isolate you, Satoru only made them less worried, you were fine like that.

Not for nothing has he killed and sacrificed anyone who interfered with his plans with you, the elderly were the first and those who bothered you followed them, he has already lost count of how many he killed, many times you almost died and that is why he preferred to lock you up, and you as a malleable girl (as hateful as it may sound, he just thinks you're very sweet and innocent) You think this is normal, it's just your precious daddy taking care of you.

"Ota-chan!! I've grown up, I'm 14 cm taller than the table!" You laughed raising your arms, Satoru smiled hugging you and lifting you into his arms. Yes, you definitely don't need to leave the house with anyone other than him, your precious golden cage where no one can touch you, much less take you away from him, will no longer allow you to die at the hands of others or be used against him.

"Tsk, Tsk! My little baby is growing, do you want to catch up with your Ota-chan? First drink milk so you can reach me! My dwarfy!" His lips went to your belly and tickled you, left behind was that girl who was abandoned and resentful of him, but who waited until the end, loving him in silence.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

The other night, dear, as I laid sleepingI dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistakenSo I hung my head and cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

TAG LIST: @louismae, @byakuyasgirlfriendandwife, @moonymoons-blog and 831 people from the previous post

And I thank all the people for waiting for this, damn it took me 4 years hahaha ha... I'm really sorry, but I was depressed so I had no inspiration or head for this, it's just a hobby thanks for your support [UNEDITED!]

[mysticfalls01]

Soulmates

(Alessia Russo x reader)

Everyone knew that you and Less were soulmates, they could see the love that you guys have for each other through a simple look.

You met Less when you were only 5 years old. She was playing soccer with her older brother when she accidentally hit you with her ball. You started crying and she immediately went to console you, she didn’t understand why but she felt the necessity of making you smile. The moment you lifted your head she saw your green eyes, magically in that moment green became her favorite color and you guys became inseparable.

When you guys were 12 Less started to feel butterflies each time, she saw you in the stands when she had a match.

When you were 15 she asked you out in a date as she realized that she liked you as more than friends and in your third date she asked you to be her girlfriend.

“y/nn I know that it’s our third date and I can’t wait anymore to ask you. Would you like to become my girlfriend?” Less asked with a nervous voice.

“Yes Less! What took you so long baby? I've been waiting for years for you to ask me” you said with a playful voice

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You liked football but let’s say that you didn’t have the skills so, you left the playing part to Less while you liked more the behind the scenes. You loved how much the stats could say a lot of a team and even there were times when the stats weren’t reflected on the final score of the game.

When Lessi turned 18 she decided to go to the States to play for UNC, that was the first challenge of your relationship as you feared her finding someone better than you. She reassured you that you were the only one for her so, you guys stayed in a long-distance relationship.

While she went to UNC you decided to go to Barcelona to study sport analytics. You were one of the best students of the program and that called FC Barcelona attention. You went and did a kind of internship for them for their women’s team, your job was to work with the other analysts, explain the reports to the head coach and then explain the numbers to the players.

In 2020 Less came back to the UK while you stayed some months more in Barcelona to finish your degree. During your time there you became friends to the girls of the team, specially to the older members as they understood the importance of your job. When you got your degree your time with them ended and you went back to England. Even if your time ended Barcelona still would hire you to be their analyst for the big games.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You moved back to England, more specifically to Manchester as United signed Less for three years. You were static to be back with the love of your life, your soulmate. Having been separated from Lessi was the hardest thing that you had ever done and you didn't wanted to do it again.

In 2021 Less with the help of Mary and Tooney asked you the big question. She rented out a restaurant just for you guys, she brought you your favorite flowers and after the most perfect date she got down in one knee. Mary and Tooney were hidden capturing the moment as she wanted to remeber it forever.

“y/n I’ve loved you even before I understood the meaning of love. I’ll forever be grateful to my brother as the day I met you he convinced me to go to the park. That day green became my favorite color. You are my number one supporter, and you never missed a game until I went to UNC. Even if I decided to go there, we stayed in a relationship and you don’t know it but you became my rock, with your support I knew that everything was possible. You could have perfectly stayed in Barcelona and work for one of the biggest clubs in the world however, you came back because of me. I remember telling my mom the day I met you that I would marry you before I fully understood what that meant but now, I do and I plan making those words true. y/n l/n will you marry me and make me the happiest woman alive? “

“Yes Lessi! I’ll marry you!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

In 2022 after the Euros and before the start of the new season you married your soulmate. Your wedding was full of friends, families, and football legends in the making. Your friends from Barcelona came to the wedding and even Aitana was your maid of honor while for Less it was Tooney. That day couldn't had been more perfect, you had everything you wanted.

In 2023 Arsenal became interested in Less, they even offered you a contract to join them as an analyst. They knew that Less wouldn’t join them if she had to leave you behind.

Now you and your wife work for the same club even if sometimes Barcelona still hire you for some matches. It was the beginning of a new chapter in your journey but you knew that with your soulmate beside you everything was going to be alright.

You met your soulmate by accident and everything because of football ball that she had hit too hard.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was about time for me to write something, even if it's short, for my favorite player <3

[morverenmaybewrites]

listen i know I'm very late to the party since you posted 'next to last' in 2020, but i've found It today and its definitely my favorite fic of yours about Jason. I just wanted to ask if there were background facts you could share about It?(How did reader find Jason, what exactly is she, how her powers work, her dynamic with Jason during his imprisoment, what did the joker do to her) id be Happy with Just some crumbs of info.

No problemo, anon. You're very welcome to read old fics of mine, this ain't TikTok. I'm glad you've taken an interest in Next to Last! It was a giveaway gift to one of my followers back in my old account.

To answer your questions:

Content Warning: Major Character Death, Descriptions of Violence (non-graphic)

How did the reader find Jason?

Entirely by accident. I had it in my head that she was either a journalist who entered Arkham Asylum for a good scoop or an urban explorer who was exploring Arkham Asylum for the hell of it. Either way, she accidentally stumbled across the basement where the Joker kept Jason in.

Joker found her trying to free Jason and shot her in the head not long after.

What exactly is she? How do her powers work?

She's a meta who didn't know she was a meta until she was "killed". Basically, her powers mean that she heals damage over time, even extensive damage that "kills" her. Considering that her first death consisted of her getting shot through the back of the skull, it's no wonder that she's pretty scrambled.

And of course, there were the traumatic brain injuries she received from the Joker in her succeeding deaths.

This is also why she gets more lucid the longer she stays alive, her body gets more time to heal the damage done to it.

What was her dynamic with Jason during his imprisonment?

She...doesn't have one, lol. Basically, the Joker killed her almost as soon as they met. After her resurrection, she basically remembers that there's someone in Arkham Asylum who needs help, so she keeps coming back to find him and subsequently gets killed by the Joker whenever she's found.

Sometimes she sticks around long enough to comfort Jason, and a few times, they even managed to escape. But they were always caught and the whole cycle repeats itself.

Jason's got a bit of hero worship thing going on because she's the only one (in his eyes) who ever even tried to save him. But he also thinks that she's off-putting and creepy, especially right after her resurrections (I mean, who wouldn't?).

What did the Joker do to her?

Basically he just keeps killing her. He thinks it's hilarious that she keeps coming back only to get killed again. He's made a bit of a game of it and has been murdering her in increasingly creative ways.

[companion-of-the-dragonmark]

When Was the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest Built? (HTTYD Books)

Hello, my fellow Dragonmarkers! It's been awhile! As promised, here's the article concerning the plausible timeline of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest. This article was actually a very old one of mine that I had written during this month in 2018. Why didn't I post it on here? Because I wasn't on Tumblr until 2020. And by then, I had forgotten to post this on here. Whoops. Teehee. 😜

When did Hiccup the First end the First Human-Dragon War and built the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest?

Many fans just go with what Wodensfang says in Book 11, supporting the 1000-Year Dynasty mentioned in Book 11 rather than the 500-700-Year Dynasty suggested in Book 9. In fact, it's everywhere in the HTTYD Wiki. I guess it's because fans view Book 11 to be more accurate because it's a later book? I don't know; maybe I'm thinking too hard about this.

But I want to talk through this and thoroughly go through the pros and cons of both sides of the argument and do this right. I'd love to know what you guys think about this.

Anyway, on to the topic!  

Possible Contradiction?:

In the First Book — the Book that we're all familiar with — in Chapter 6, Page 68, says that:

"The Dragon (speaking of the Green Death) had crawled down into the depths of the ocean and had gone into a Sleep Coma. Dragons can stay in this suspended state for eternity, half-dead, half-alive, buried under fathom after fathom of icy-cold seawater. Not a muscle of this particular Dragon had moved for six or seven centuries."

Wodensfang's account of Hiccup the First in Book 9 "How to Steal a Dragon's Sword", on Chapter 12, Page 203, seems to probably confirm this when he says: "Five or six centuries ago, when I was young, it was a very dark age, and the dragons and humans were at war."

He goes on further explanation in Page 208 concerning the Green Death: "...Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea."

So you're probably saying, "Great! There it is! There's your answer! It was 600-700 years ago! Problem solved, right?"

Wrong.

In Book 11 "How to Betray a Dragon's Hero", on Chapter 6, Page 98, Wodensfang tells the story of how the Dragonmark came to be, as well as a more detailed history of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest and the story of Grimbeard the Ghastly as a boy, and how he changed the Mark. 

He says at the beginning of the story: "Once upon a time, Hiccup, a thousand or so years ago, when I was young and about the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon, I met your ancestor, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the First, and I gave him the Dragon Jewel and trusted him with the Jewel's Secret."

In Page 100, Wodensfang repeats this by saying: "For over a thousand years, it seemed like I had made the right decision to entrust the Secret of the Dragon Jewel to the humans."

I know right? I'm as confused as you are! Didn't he say in Book 9 that it was "five or six centuries ago"? Maybe even SEVEN centuries ago? Why the change? Did he suddenly get the Dragon equivalent of memory loss due to old age? Does he not know how to count?

Here's the confusing thing: if he was rounding, this might explain it. But the thing is that you can do it with small numbers, but as the number gets bigger, you can't round up in great jumps.

(Warning: Math Ahead!)

For example, say that the number is 8, you round it up to 10 (in certain circumstances) because 8 is closer to 10 than 5. However, if it's 6, then you have to round down to 5 because 6 is closer to 5. The only time that it doesn't is when you're rounding up in percentages (55.678594375 would be 56, for example).

You can't round up to 1000 years from 600, or even 700. That's too high of a jump. Especially when you're telling a historical account. For one thing, it's inaccurate, and for another, it's lazy. And it'll spread lots of confusion.

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A Roman Piece to a Nordic Puzzle | The Hint's in the Roman Numerals: 

So then, which is it? Was the Kingdom of the Wilderwest built 600-700 years ago or 1000-odd years ago? 

First off, allow me to redirect your attention once more to the references concerning the Green Death (also known as Merciless):

The Green Death Takes His Tea by Crownflame on DeviantArt

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"The Dragon (speaking of the Green Death) had crawled down into the depths of the ocean and had gone into a Sleep Coma. Dragons can stay in this suspended state for eternity, half-dead, half-alive, buried under fathom after fathom of icy-cold seawater. Not a muscle of this particular Dragon had moved for six or seven centuries." 

And this one:

  ". . .Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea." 

According to these two quotes concerning the Dragon Merciless, it would appear that the events were about roughly 600 years ago. The problem is that the first quote says he had been in a Sleep Coma for six or seven centuries. I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like a lot of time to me for him to have forgotten his past and about his nemesis Hiccup. It sounds like in the latter quote, Merciless lived and journeyed alone for a long time — about 100-200 years or more — before he fell into a Sleep Coma.

What might help support this is the mention of what he had eaten in Book 1, Page 129: "He was awake now, and he had coughed up the last thing he had eaten, the Eagle Standard of the Eighth Legion, with its pathetic ribbons still flying bravely."

Now, yes, the HTTYD books are exaggeratory and any historical references are "purely coincidental," and that the Roman Dragonrustlers were about during Hiccup the Third's time (but after Book 3 was said to have fled back to Rome — which is inaccurate because Hiccup's time was during the Viking Age, over 300 years after the fall of the Roman Empire. However, I have a theory that'll explain that in the future). 

But what if we DID get historical here? According to history, the only 8th Legion in Roman history was the Legio VIII Augusta, one of the oldest Roman legions in Rome's history (along with the Legio VI Feratta, Legio VII Claudia, and the (in)famous Legio IX Hispana). They were stationed in Gaul (modern France) near the modern-day Strasbourg area (called Argentoratum in Roman times). It was founded in 65 BC by Julius Caesar during the Gaul Wars. It continued service presumedly until either before or until the Fall of Rome (400-500 AD). 

Of course, since it continued service until that time period, then it's impossible for the Green Death to have eaten the Legion, right?

As Old Wrinkly used to say: "It's not im-POSSIBLE, only im-PROBABLE. The only thing that limits us are the limits to our imaginations." 

So, taking this sagely advice, let's think about this carefully.

According to Roman history, the Eighth Legion was disbanded during the first of Rome's Civil Wars (called Caesar's Civil War and the conflict was between Caesar and Scipio) soon after the Battle and Siege of Thapsus (modern-day Tunisia) in 46 BC for unknown reasons. It was reconstituted in 44 BC by Caesar's adopted son Augustus for Caesar's veterans who had loyally served him and helped him defeat Mark Antony and gain power as Rome's first Emperor.

So basically, there's a two-year gap between the disbandment and the reinstation of the Eighth Legion, which means that Merciless could've easily have eaten the Legion during that time and nobody would've been the wiser, and when Augustus reinstated the Legion two years later, he filled the ranks with other veterans who had served Caesar and Augustus.

What do you think? Plausible?

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Possible Connection to Dragon-Aging and Dates in the Book of Dragons:

Now, in Book 1, in the back of the How to Train Your Dragon book that Hiccup reads (similar to the Book of Dragons in the film) in Chapter 4 on Page 53-58, it says that the last stamped due-date was on "16 May 866 AD". The first and second due-dates stamped on there before that were "10 June 789 AD" and "9 April 835 AD".

However, there's no mention of when that book was borrowed, or when it was returned, or the gap between the date and when Gobber the Belch had burgled it from the Meathead "Public" Library. The Hooligans seemed to have had the book for a while. So the current date of the time of Hiccup's first memoir could be anywhere from 866-900 AD — if not later! 

Suffering Scallops, it could even be in the 1000s AD!!! In Book 7, Hiccup writes in his epilogue that: "Now I am an old, old man, and the world that I created has no need for dragons. They have retreated from the civilization that I brought, along with the wolves, and the Berserks, and the monsters of my childhood."

In 1015 AD, Berserkers were outlawed, and the practice of "going berserk" as a profession and the rituals involving their cults were forbidden until by the turn of the 12th century, Berserkers had all but disappeared from human history. The end of the Viking Age was considered to be between 1066-1100 AD, so, scallops, Hiccup could very well have lived during this time.

(This could explain the crossbows in the TV series, as they were beginning to show up around this time, as well as Hiccup's quote in the first film: "300 years and I'm the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon!") 

And, in Book 12, Hiccup also explains in his epilogue that Sea-Dragons like Toothless can live for thousands of years, so maybe 1000-year period might be correct? There's no mention about the other sea dragons, apparently, so I guess they don't live nearly as long?

The problem is the period of growth in the Sea-Dragons. Wodensfang was probably of-age by the time he meets Hiccup the First, and he was "the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon" then. Then, as the decades and centuries went by and the Kingdom prospered, he grew to be "as large as a mountain". Then he says that hundreds of years ago, he began to "shrink in old age", as Sea-Dragons are small in young and old ages, but in adult stages they're colossal, until he shrunk to the "size of a large Viking hunting dog (probably a Norwegian Elkhound, which lived during this time and was used mainly as a guard and hunting dog)" during the time of Grimbeard the Ghastly. By Hiccup the Third's time a hundred years later, he shrunk to the size of Toothless.

Furious was still considered a baby during Hiccup the Second's time, but grew to be the size of a small elephant. Then 100 years later, he became the size of a mountain, when it doesn't seem that Wodensfang grew that big that quickly (though, to be fair, the Berserks had been feeding him well with human sacrifices for the past 100 years, among other foods, so he probably grew to be that big because of it.) He must've had an early growth spurt. lol 😂

That being said, the reason Furious and Wodensfang have different growing speeds may be likely due to Furious having been fed well since his hatchling days. Whereas it's hinted by Wodensfang himself that he's had a difficult life in his younger days, which is one of the reasons he joins Merciless' rebellion against the Vikings. So the struggle for food could've stunted his growth until he met Hiccup the First later on, at which point he grew faster as more food was available.

Meanwhile, there's Toothless, who's a baby, and has been the size of Wodensfang since the first book, and, according to Hiccup in his epilogue in Book 12, hasn't really grown up at all despite it being 62 years since the events of Book 12 (which if Hiccup was 10-11 when he got Toothless in Book 1, this would make Toothless 65-66 years old by Hiccup's death) and is still able to sleep on his chest. 

He must be a late bloomer. lol 😂

Then there's the Green Death — or Merciless — to consider. While he was Furious's size during Hiccup the First's time, and was considered to be a young dragon, then several centuries later, if not more, when he meets Hiccup the Third, he's still the same size! Do Sleep Comas delay aging and growth or something?

So basically we have FOUR Sea-Dragons who grow and age at various speeds! So I don't think we can glean anything from this.

So . . . 1000 years or 600-700 years? Honestly, I seem to get more confused the further I try to explain it! I hope you're having better luck keeping up than I am at the moment! lol 😂

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Time For a Little More Math! (cue the groans!):

Okay, I'm going to do a little more math. To be honest, graphs, charts, and basic math is the only math I love. If you don't like it, then skip if you'd like, though you'll miss out on the cool part. 😉🧐

I've done the calculations and I'll do my best with it. If there are any mistakes, please let me know and I'll correct them. 

I'll be using current time from 866-1100 AD and then add the date to when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest could've been established in Hiccup the First's time. 

I will be using the terms CTP (Current Time Period) and DFP (Dynasty Foundation Period) to avoid confusion.

Whew! Okay! Now that THAT'S done and over with, let's get to the average ages of the Kings of the Wilderwest to further prove (hopefully) which date it might've been. 

I've organized it into different sections. Before Hiccup the Third, there were 12 Kings of the Wilderwest. So I'll divide the number of years that the Dynasty could've lasted to the number of Kings to get the average lifespan that each of the Kings have to be in order for this to become plausible.

Now granted, some of these Kings could've died young (20s-30s), or very old, or in their middle-ages (pun not intended). This is the AVERAGE lifespan for each king -- not a literal statistic for each and every King. 

Unless, of course, if we were fanciful people, we might've theorized that there's some sort of magic spell in the Dragon Jewel that Wodensfang didn't mention that causes all of the Twelve Kings to die at the same age. 

In that case, if true, and if every King DOES INDEED die at the same age, then since Hiccup the Third dies at the age of 75/76, it would've been 900 years since the foundation of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest since every King would've died at the same age that Hiccup had died.

But we're not fanciful people . . . and that would be ridiculous. lol 😜

However, you're probably noticing that there are no 1000 Years among the statistics that I just showed above. That's because I had just remembered that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest collapsed a hundred years before Hiccup the Third's time. Meaning that if the Dynasty and Kingdom lasted for 1000 years, then only 900 years of that has passed as a kingdom.

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Conclusion:

So . . . WHEW! That took a long time to write (5-6 hours, though the time could've been cut in half had I not done the statistics, but then where'd be the fun in that? lol 😜)

I apologize if any of this went over your head or overwhelmed you with informational overload. If it did, then I sympathize because I'm feeling this as well — and I'm WRITING THIS! 

So my conclusion is that, basically speaking, regardless of the Kingdom being anywhere from 600-1000 years old, 100 of those years need to be subtracted since the Kingdom fell apart when Grimbeard dissolved it a hundred years prior to the current events of the Second Dragon War. So, realistically, the Kingdom — and the 12 Kings (including Grimbeard) — lasted around 500-900 years, and when Wodensfang tells Hiccup the Third about the history of the Wilderwest, he includes the 100 years into the timeframe when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was first founded.

So I guess that, in the end, the actual date and timeline will be left up to the fans to headcanon for themselves.

If you could take anything from this, what would it be?

What current timeline do you think Hiccup the Third could be living in during the Viking Age? 900s? 1000s? 1100?

And how many years do you think that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was established (including the 100-year gap)? 1000 years? 800? 700? 600? 

Please share your thoughts! I'd LOVE to hear from you!!! ^_^ 

Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read this and I am looking forward to reading any theories, corrections, suggestions, discussions, answers, and/or questions you may have. 

I hope this article finds you well, and I hope you have a splendid weekend! 

Long Live the Wilderwest!

— Companion of the Dragonmark

[angelic-ambedo]

The Weirdest Fucking Movies I've Ever seen Pt. 1

Okay so I sort of champion myself as a lover of weird movies. And it's funny because regardless of how many I've seen, every time I watch a weird movie I genuinely feel as if it is the weirdest movie I've ever seen in my life.

So, I decided to make a list which compiles all of said weird movies and then a description of why I find each so uniquely weird. If you find any of these descriptions or titles intriguing, I recommend you seek these movies out, because a weird movie = a good life ya know so yeah

If you have more weird movies please please recommend them im hungry for new crazy cinema bebesssss

Eraserhead (1977) - genuinely makes no sense.

Coherence (2013) - trippy scientifically interesting thriller

Some Velvet Morning (2013) - abusive cat n mouse relationship

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) - emotional violence

Greener Grass (2019) - let's shame suburbia!

Trash Humpers (2009) - people fucking the trash...?

Julien Donkey-Boy (1999) - mental illness be so sad and trippy

Gummo (1997) - literal photo album of a dysfunctional town

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls (2006) - bulimia PSA in disguise

Black Bear (2020) - art seeps into the "real" world

Begotten (1990) - god kills himself

Trouble Every Day (2001) - eating people presented as...a turn on?

Baise-Moi (2000) - punk feminist murderous women are sick and society sux

Palindromes (2004) - one character is played by a ton of different actors of different ages, races, and sexes

964 Pinocchio (1991) - so much vomit, even more cyberpunk lobotomy sex machine madness

Meet the Feebles (1989) - the muppets give each other STDs and commit mass murder

In the Realm of the Senses (1976) - a torrid, pornographic affair used to escape the horrors of a war-torn world

Enter the Void (2009) - going to the past, present, and future, POV shots that include blinking, going inside the body, taboo themes with a psychedelic style

Love (2015) - horny pseudo-porno about a misogynistic asshole who somehow pulls hot, sexually adventurous women

Climax (2018) - LSD fueled nightmare

Pink Flamingos (1972) - a competition to be the "filthiest person alive" (spoiler alert: the cool drag queen wins)

Vivarium (2019) - Suburbia is still creepy, guys

Be My Cat: A Film for Anne (2015) - can we please stop having erotomania like celebrities aren't into u babe :(

No No Nooky TV (1987) - Computers being cool and saying "boobs" and "clit"

The Piano Teacher (2001) - unsafe nonconsensual bdsm and sexual repression is...no. please no.

The Night Porter (1974) - stockholm syndrome and wild bdsm stuff with postwar themes

Belle de Jour (1967) - more bdsm themes

Titane (2021) - woman fucks a car and gets pregnant

Daisies (1966) - two girls cut up pickles and destroy the patriarchy

Creep 1 and 2 (2014, 2017) - murder has never been this funny

Garbanzo Gas (2007) - a human cow gets an all-expenses paid trip to a motel before it hits the slaughterhouse

Melancholie der Engel (2009) - ew.

In Our Garden (2002) - old men dicks + weirdest dialogue I've ever heard in my life

The Rehearsal (TV series) (2022) - this is the ultimate weirdest thing ever and I don't know how else to categorize it.

Trigger Warnings (all of these movies are weird/fucked up but some of them contain actual fucked up stuff that like. happened in real life. so below are the triggers for that kind of stuff. All of these films are genuine films, not the gore stuff the internet produces, but some of them because of the country/time period/transgressiveness include content that is inappropriate and/or ethically unacceptable, so I've included those movies below)

Baise-Moi - unsimulated sex scenes which includes SA scenes that actors consented to but characters did not. this proves a feminist point but is still incredibly upsetting and stayed with me for a while as there are close ups and its awful.

In the Realm of the Senses - Please look into this one more before you watch it, I'm not going to describe things in detail because it makes me so uncomfortable but there are some scenes that involve young actors that should not ethically have been in the situations they were put in. The movie is exceptionally well made and from what I know globally respected so I don't know why they had to ruin it for me but whatever.

Pink Flamingos - One infamous scene involves an actual chicken death. It was the early 70s (long time ago and no PETA) and they apparently ate the chicken afterward, so I felt less immoral about this one but still gross.

Melancholie der Engel - okay please genuinely never watch this movie unless you're super into traumatizing yourself and are very desensitized I guess. There's a ton of actual animal abuse in very very graphic/unnecessarily disturbing shock type situations. There's other bad unsimulated stuff but this is the worst of it from what I know.

Love and Meet the Feebles contain scenes that are transphobic and/or racist, which is gross. Slaughtered Vomit Dolls was made by a very bad person. A bunch of the movies also have unsimulated sex stuff, I don't know if that makes anyone uncomfortable but if it does I'm just putting it out there.