#i need you all to know that i DIED laughing at that response

[jokermoonie]

Dear Friend Across The River (Chapter one)

Well… The last sound you heard was the shattering of the glass… a sound that was accompanied by a large explosion, the councilors had little time to react.

Meanwhile, Vi and Caitlyn arrive at the council building after witnessing the death of Silco and Jinx launching one last attack before disappearing through the streets of Zaun.

Vi: (with a hoarse and anxious voice, while pushing pieces of rubble with her bare hands) "She has to be here somewhere, Cait! I won't let her… I won't lose her too!"

Caitlyn: (kneeling nearby, moving smaller stones, visibly shaken as she tries to concentrate) "Vi, I know… I know. But we need to focus! If she's still here, she needs help now. Look for signs, anything… please…"

Vi pauses for a moment, breathing hard, her face dirty with dust and unshed tears.

Vi: (in a lower voice, but full of pain) "I should have insisted that she not join the Council. I knew something could go wrong… I should have protected her!"

Caitlyn: (turning to Vi, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes) "You couldn't have known! None of us could! This isn't your fault, Vi. And she… she knew what she was doing. She always knew."

The silence between them is heavy, filled only by the distant sound of sirens and the crackle of debris. Vi clenches her fists, her despair growing.

Vi: (screaming to herself, hitting a rock with her hand) "But she's my responsibility, Cait! I promised I'd take care of her… that I'd protect you two! And now look at this…"

Caitlyn: (standing up and grabbing Vi by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eye) "Vi, listen! If there's one thing she's shown us, it's that she's never been someone who needs protecting all the time. She fights for us, just as much as we fight for her. But now, if you keep this up, we're going to waste more time, and time is something she might not have."

Caitlyn's words seem to hit her like a blow. Vi takes a deep breath, fighting the weight of the guilt she feels, and gives a slight nod. The two of them go back to searching frantically, until Caitlyn suddenly stops.

Caitlyn: (screaming, with a mix of hope and despair) "Vi! Here! There's something here!"

They both start digging faster, moving pieces of metal and concrete. A hand emerges from the rubble, and Vi's heart seems to stop for a second.

Vi: (kneeling beside her, holding her hand tightly) "Hey! Hey, it's you, right? Talk to me! It's okay, we're here now!"

Caitlyn helps remove the last pieces, revealing you — injured, but conscious. You cough and try to speak, but your voice is weak.

You: (with a tired smile, your voice slurred) "You guys… took your time… I thought you were going to leave me here forever."

Vi: (with her eyes shining with tears, laughing nervously as she holds her face in her hands) "Don't even joke about it, okay? I almost died of a heart attack. Don't ever do that to us again!"

Caitlyn: (kneeling on the other side, examining your wounds carefully) "Stay still, you're hurt… but nothing too serious, I think. Let's get you out of here."

You: (trying to keep your sense of humor, even though you're weak) "I didn't know… you two… were so sentimental."

Vi shakes her head, laughing softly as she holds your hand tightly. Caitlyn lets out a sigh of relief, but her expression still carries traces of concern.

Vi: (whispering, the relief evident in her voice) "You're alive. That's what matters."

Caitlyn: (standing up and starting to signal to the nearby rescuers) "We're going to get you out of here and take you to the medics. Then… we'll figure this all out. Together."

Vi looks at Caitlyn, nodding, before turning her attention back to you.

Vi: (with a soft but firm smile) "You're not getting rid of us that easily. Hang in there."

As the rescuers arrive, the two of them stand by your side, holding your hands, making sure you feel like you're not alone. Amidst the chaos and destruction, a small flame of hope shines again.

Vi: (holding your hand as the rescuers begin to approach, eyes still shining with unshed tears) "You're here, and that's all that matters right now. But seriously, what happened in there? What did they do to you?"

Caitlyn, who had been signaling the rescuers, kneels down next to you again, carefully wiping the dust from your face.

Caitlyn: (softly, but anxiously) "Don't push it, just say what you can… But we need to know. What happened in there?"

You take a deep breath, each word taking effort, but the urgency in your eyes keeps you going.

You: (in between coughs) "It's not just me… cough… the others… the counselors… they were all here. Jayce too…"

Caitlyn freezes, her eyes wide as Vi seems to slowly process what you just said.

Caitlyn: (barely speaking) "My mom…? She… She was here too?"

You: (nodding slowly, trying to organize your thoughts) "Yes. Jayce… he brought something big. He… he proposed Zaun's independence.

They were discussing… discussing this when…” (you gesture weakly to the wreckage around them, the sound of sirens and smoke in the distance filling the silence) “It all… happened.”

The words barely leave your lips before Vi takes a step back, as if the air has been knocked from her lungs. She stares at the rubble around her, as if she can see through it, the pieces of the puzzle falling violently into place.

Vi: (in a hoarse tone, almost as if she’s talking to herself) “Zaun’s independence…? That’s big. That’s huge. But… then… that wasn’t just any attack.”

Caitlyn: (staring at Vi, hands still shaking slightly, comprehension dawning on her expression) “It was the missile… Jinx’s missile. She knew. She knew about the proposal. She wanted to destroy everything… the peace, the Council… everything."

Vi clenches her fists, her jaw clenched as she fights to control the anger and pain that threaten to boil over. She takes a step forward, leaning in to look you in the eyes.

Vi: (voice thick with emotion, a mix of guilt and determination) "You're saying Jinx did this? That she knew? She destroyed everything because she couldn't accept that Zaun could finally be… free?"

You: (voice weak but firm, staring Vi straight in the face) "She didn't want peace, Vi. She wanted… revenge. This wasn't just to kill the Council. It was to end any chance of Piltover and Zaun… coexisting. It was a warning."

Caitlyn claps her hand over her mouth, her eyes watering as she processes the implications of her words. Vi, on the other hand, explodes in a mix of anger and frustration, kicking a nearby piece of debris.

Vi: (screaming, her voice echoing through the wreckage) "Why?! Why did she have to do this? Everything we wanted… everything we tried… she destroyed it! She destroyed it all again!"

Caitlyn approaches her, holding her arm firmly, but her voice still carries the pain and shock of discovery.

Caitlyn: (softly, but with a tone of authority) "Vi, stop! Not now. Not here. If you lose control now, you'll throw away everything we've been fighting for. We need her alive. We need to know more… we need to survive this first."

Vi looks at Caitlyn, then at you, and takes a deep breath, trying to contain the storm inside her. She kneels down next to you again, her expression softening, but her eyes still shining with a deep pain.

Vi: (in a low voice, almost pleading) "Please tell me you're going to be okay. We're going to get through this… together. I can't lose you. Not after everything."

You: (smiling weakly, trying to ease the tension) "Vi… Caitlyn… you have to stop this drama. I'm not going anywhere. But… we have to do something. This isn't going to stop here."

Caitlyn: (wiping away a tear that escapes, straightening up and assuming a resolute tone) "She's right. This is just the beginning. Jinx destroyed the Council, but she also started a war. If we do nothing, Piltover and Zaun will destroy each other… and she wins.”

Vi closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to absorb Caitlyn’s words. When she opens them again, her expression is one of pure determination.

Vi: (staring at you and Caitlyn) “If this is what she wants, we won’t let her. If Zaun is going to be independent, it’s going to be the right way. Not with death and destruction. But now… first, you. Let’s get you out of here and deal with this later.”

Caitlyn nods and turns to the rescuers, coordinating the rescue. Vi remains by her side, holding her hand carefully, as if it were a thread that kept her connected to reality.

Vi: (whispering to herself, but loud enough for you to hear) “This doesn’t end here, Jinx. You messed with the wrong people this time."

As you are lifted from the rubble, the scene around you seems bigger than any of you could have imagined. A war is brewing, and the three of you know that you need to be prepared to face the chaos that will come.

Some time later, the bodies of the councilors are being removed, and the absence of familiar voices, like Mel and Jayce's, weighs on everyone because they were missing. Piltover is silent, but a silence filled with pain and tension.

Vi: (staring at the rubble while clenching her fists, her face rigid as stone) "Look at this… Everything they were trying to build. Everything we tried to protect. And she… she destroyed it all."

Caitlyn: (beside you, with her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the horizon as her voice carries a tone of bitterness) "My mother is… out there somewhere. And Jayce… He wanted so badly to make this work. He believed that."

You, still hurt and leaning on Vi, try to remain calm, but your voice carries the urgency you feel in your chest.

You: "That wasn't just an attack. It was a message. Jinx knew exactly what she was doing. Piltover won't stand for this. They'll want revenge."

Vi: (turning to you, her gaze hardened) "And Zaun? Do you think they'll back down? No, they'll see this as their only chance to take what they want, to free themselves. It'll be war, and there'll be nothing left."

Caitlyn: (with a serious face, looking at both of them) "Then we need to stop this before it starts. But how? With the Council destroyed, Piltover has no leadership. It'll be chaos."

To be continued…

(English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes ;-;)

[theartisticcrow]

THE EVE OF REVOLUTION: A "Short" Analysis of the UHC shooter situation and what this could mean for the future.

[Originally written on 13 December, 2024 by yours truly]

I find myself quite intrigued by the events that have occurred within the past couple of weeks. Brian Thompson, former CEO of UnitedHealthcare, was shot dead in New York city and the working class hasn’t been this happy since the sinking of the Titan submersible [EDIT: I was told that apparently this exact line was used in a negative way by some politician and I want to say that I wrote this line on my own as a joke and I had no idea that this happened. I am a part of the working class. I am a part of the people who are happy when bad people die. I wrote this line jokingly trying to be funny and I did not intend for it to sound like something out of a news headline].

I’ll give a brief explanation of what happened in case you don’t already know: Brian Thompson was the CEO of UnitedHealthcare—as was previously mentioned—an American-owned private company meant to provide health insurance to American citizens who found themselves in need of it. However, UnitedHealthcare has a long and excruciating history of denying several claims for insurance without practical reason despite the majority of claims coming from people who do need the insurance money to cover the costs of healthcare related services. Millions of citizens have suffered and died as a result of the company's greed and lack of regard for the good of the people. UnitedHealthcare is neither the only health insurance company to operate in such ways. It is simply one of many American companies corrupted with power and all of them are aware of how their actions affect the public, but they do not care because the money that lines their pockets is built purely off the anguish of innocent people. 

I have reason to believe that this is the start of something greater, but there’s a lot here that I need to explain before I get to that point, so I hope you like reading because this is going to be a bit long.

On 4 December, Brian Thompson was shot and killed on the pavement outside the New York Hilton Midtown building along West 54th Street at roughly 6:45 a.m. (EST). The suspect was identified on CCTV footage to be a young man in a hoodie which concealed most of his face aside from a joyful smile as he walked away. He then escaped by bicycle and evaded the police for three days before allegedly being arrested in a McDonald’s with several pieces of incriminating evidence in Altoona, Pennsylvania. During the time that police went searching for the shooter, they found a bag in Central Park believed to belong to the suspect that was filled with monopoly money (the fake currency from the capitalism board game) along with three bullet casings at the sight of the shooting that had written on them the words: Deny, Defend, Despose. Seeing as the police had no leads, they began requesting the help of the public, but were met with an interesting response that went something along the lines of ‘claim denied’. 

All across the world, the UHC shooter was quickly regarded as a hero. People began celebrating the death of Brian Thompson and began laughing in the faces of the government, police and news outlets alike. The media attempted to pose the assassination as a shocking and unexpected tragedy and the vast majority of the population could do all but take them seriously. The news spread like a wildfire across all internet platforms. Fan art began being posted online, a UHC shooter look-alike contest was held and every news article was filled with people in the comments merely laughing. Quite soon after the assassination, it was discovered that someone left a balloon at the sight of the shooting that depicted a graphic of a star with a smiley face and written in pink text, “CEO DOWN”. People began calling him The Claims Adjuster. He became viewed as the real life version of Robin Hood. People would turn on the news each morning to make sure he hadn’t been caught yet, expressing that they actually felt safer knowing that the shooter was still at large.

On 9 December, Luigi Mangione was arrested by local police in Pennsylvania and accused of killing Brian Thompson after an employee of the fast food joint he was sat in reported to police his location. However, there is no true confirmation that he is the real UHC shooter. He was arrested in a McDonald’s supposedly with several pieces of incriminating evidence including a gun and a three page explanation of his motives. The day after his arrest Luigi Mangione immediately accused the police of having planted the evidence. And despite police having offered reward money to anyone that gave them a reliable tip, the McDonald’s employee received not even a penny. The conditions of his arrest immediately presented themself as extremely suspicious. You’re telling me that the guy who carefully planned out and succeeded in the assassination of a corrupt health insurance CEO as well as escaping on a bicycle and evading authorities for several days was caught multiple days later in a McDonald’s with a gun and three pages explaining how and why he committed the crime? The chances of this being true are quite unlikely, especially considering the American police department’s notorious incompetency and a long history of corruption and lies. (All cops are bastards.) A far more realistic situation that would make more sense in the UHC shooter timeline is one in which the police either decided to or were given the order to arrest an innocent man that matched what was known of the shooter’s profile as closely as possible, planting fake evidence at the scene of the arrest and doing everything within their power to deny this man a fair defense in an attempt to shut down whatever hope and optimism has sprung up among the public, considering that if enough people realise how many other individuals feel the same of this situation and they possess the same spite and anger towards those in power, it could eventually lead to revolutionary tendencies. 

Along with this, there have already been several efforts made by the government to silence the voices of the opposition, in particular those who have openly threatened other health insurance companies and/or have worked to expose the corruption of some of those said companies. Such is the case with a woman in Florida, Brianna Boston who ended a phone call with her insurance company Blue Cross Blue Shield—who had just denied her medical claim—by saying: “Delay, deny, despose. You people are next.” She was then arrested despite having no weapons, nor a criminal record of any kind and is being charged with a crime she did not truly commit.

A few news articles recently appeared describing Luigi Mangione as having an outburst outside of the court, however upon reviewing the footage it becomes clear that this is not what happened, rather the outburst came more from the police officer with a hand around Mangione’s neck and another officer that slammed Mangione into a wall after he had attempted to communicate “It’s completely unjust and an insult to the intelligence of the American people and their lived experience”. The government is already enforcing censorship upon the internet and citizens where they can, and the media is making every effort to sway the opinion of the American people by posing the assassination as something to be scared of. This is called fear mongering and it is quite prevalent in American politics (as well as Nazi Germany).

But regardless of every attempt the government and media makes to take control of the situation, they cannot control the sudden shift in American politics that has been prompted by the assassination of Brian Thompson. For the longest time—ever since the end of George Washington’s presidency, really—the politics in the United States have always been made out to be a conflict of the Left versus the Right. Democrats versus Conservatives. However, as of the past couple weeks it would seem as though the true conflict in American politics has been realised by more and more people. It has nothing to do with the different political groups that exist partially to keep the country divided and weak. The true enemy of the people is the privileged and wealthy elites. It is all the lower classes—regardless of their beliefs, religion or who they are as a person—versus the wealthy politicians, billionaires and corrupt CEOs that have come to believe the citizens are there to serve them rather than the other way ‘round as it truly should be. The people of America are slowly becoming more and more united by a similar motivation: Liberty, equality, fraternity. For far too long have these wealthy company executives and corrupt politicians sat upon a throne of blood and lies bought with the money stolen from innocent people, gorging themselves upon a feast of human suffering and wine made from the tears of children whose parents were killed in a bombing run funded by the US government for no other reason than profit and power. But little do these people know that terror does not reign. That term in of itself was also a lie, and they were so caught up in their own lies that they forgot they were just as frail and weak as every other human being that they slaughtered to get their way. To put it simply: Times are changing and so is the people’s tolerance. 

Of course, not everyone agrees. There are some who I have seen say that the death of Brian Thompson should not be celebrated. That to do so should be considered sick and twisted behaviour, but what the people saying this either do not realise or are choosing to fully disregard is the fact that Brian Thompson condemned thousands of people to death and made his entire fortune off of doing so. Some argue that now his children are without a father and that is a reason not to support it, but think of how many children have ended up without fathers, or mothers because he made the deliberate and knowing choice to deny them the insurance that could have saved their life? What about friends, family, parents who have lost their own children because of things that insurance refused to cover, deeming it unnecessary despite doctors making clear that nothing else is more important than the very thing that insurance is denying? Brian Thompson’s family will be fine. They live in a house built of blood and bone. Few people can afford even so much as a broom closet.

The media has referred to Brian Thompson’s assassination as ‘brutal’, ‘shocking’, and an act of ‘senseless violence’. They speak as though everyone could not see it coming, because they do not bother to acknowledge the inherent violence that the entire medical, insurance, and governing system is built upon. They spread propaganda and provide the richest country in the world with a major lack of proper education in an effort to keep the people from rising against them, however this fear and every attempt to prevent it from happening will be the very thing that has wrought it in the end. This assassination was not unprovoked, nor was it an overreaction. It was long overdue and truly a wonder that it didn’t happen sooner. If this were somewhere like France, people would be outraged. They would be setting fires in the streets and threatening to shit in the river. The reason this doesn’t happen in America is due to the country’s history.

America is rather young compared to other countries in say Europe, Asia or Africa. They fought a revolutionary war, but after that, the newly formed United States focused on taking over the rest of the land now known as modern day America. The early government was ruled by slave owners and racists. Their education system is underfunded, thus the people do not learn a good enough history. The country is built upon violence, war, nationalism, hatred and a people that have come to treat their political figures like gods. That is not to say other countries are not full of flaws, but I’m rather choosing to focus on the history of the United States and what led to the country’s current predicament and I’ll be using that historical knowledge to explain the true significance of the UHC shooter because it’s the start of something big and I’ve been saying it for years. 

American politics are inherently fascist. That part is obvious, but why? There are several factors throughout American history that come into play here, but I believe that a lot of it can be traced back to the American Revolutionary War and the creation of the country itself. Revolutions are prompted by many of the same and similar factors all throughout history. This can be observed in the American Revolution, French Revolution, Russian Revolution, Haitian Revolution, etcetera… However the American Revolution can be said to differ in a fair few ways. In particular, the American Revolution was prompted by a desire for separation from England and the issues it was causing for the colonies as well as the freedom to do what they wanted with the land across the sea, including expanding their territory West into lands that were already occupied by the native people. Keep in mind, this is one of several factors, but it is what can objectively be referred to as one of the major priorities/motivations in what led them to declare war. The Americans also throughout this part of history and all the way up to the present day saw the native people as inferior. This was a common theme within its politics and nationalistic ideologies that the country maintains today. The vast majority of the major revolutionary figures were slave owners. Come the time of the revolution, they made no efforts to bring a proper end to slavery. Many of them believed it wasn’t necessary. They started to form a new government and formed new laws. However, many parts of the American justice system possessed several flaws and several contradictions. Political corruption became prevalent fairly quickly. (Although that is not to say that any government is without corruption.) 

There is also the thing I mentioned earlier of how the United States has a strange habit of treating politicians like gods. Praising and worshipping at their feet like it’s a cult. Children must stand in their classrooms and pledge their life to a country that betrays them time and time again. This is known as America’s weird obsession with nationalism (a concept basically created by Napoleon). But what does the country owe them? What has the country ever done for them? America is the war country. There is a specific reason that it is often referred to as the American Revolutionary War, because the battle they fought is different from other revolutions in history. It was not the same kind of uprising as the French Revolution for example, which was the working class people fighting against the monarchy and taking over the government. The American Revolution functioned more like two countries fighting against each other rather than an uprising and take over of the government within one country. 

America often likes to proclaim itself as the ‘freest country in the world’, but I always have to call into question what that statement is actually referring to. Among the things the Americans fought for in their revolution is the freedom of expression, but the government is constantly fighting to strip away the rights of as many people as they can and turn the country into an authoritarian dictatorship. So it’s rather hypocritical, isn’t it? I ask once again: Freedom for whom, and to do what exactly? Freedom for white men to do what they like with whomever they please? Freedom for the police and military to kill anybody that they disagree with or don’t like for whatever reason? What about the freedom of having affordable housing, food, medical care and education? The monopoly game of a country run by clowns (derogatory) can’t even do that much. Politicians are supposed to serve and protect the people, not the other way around. Yet so often do I see people forget or completely disregard that fact. The education system is underfunded for a reason. 1984 by George Orwell is banned for a reason. The system is not flawed. It is working exactly as it was designed, keeping people divided and weak whilst also presenting them with the illusion of freedom as they set up every other citizen for failure. But that tactic is exactly what will bring its downfall. You can already see it happening. You can smell it in the air: the calm before the storm. It’s really not that hard to see so long as you know where to look.

The American people, in particular the political left, seem hesitant to get up and physically fight back. There is a hesitance there that results in them not defending their rights as ruthlessly as they should. The origins in this hesitance do lie partly in the American Revolutionary War and the particular major revolutionary figures in said war. The way the country was founded and slowly sculpted into what it is today. They wanted freedom, but for different reasons. They had different goals and motivations. Of course the country born from a war is going to do nothing but wage war. It’s just a matter of why so many of the people would rather sit around and wait for something to happen rather than doing something themselves? Why is it not the same in somewhere like France where the people are more than willing to break out into a riot at the slightest change to a law? While I already made a comparison to France as I explained the difference between a revolutionary war and a proper revolution, I’m going to talk about the French Revolution again and in a little more detail, because I believe there’s no better way to explain the problem with American politics and where said politics are heading than by talking about the most impactful revolution in history.

France is a country decidedly owned by the people with a government meant to serve the people whether the politicians like it or not. The French Revolution is arguably the most iconic revolution in history with an impact that has stretched across multiple centuries, and it’s my personal favourite historical event to study. Call me biased all you want, but that thirty page essay changed me in ways I still have yet to figure out and I might as well use this knowledge however I can. Of course, I can't start talking about my favourite historical event without starting with a disclaimer: Maximilien Robespierre was not a bloodthirsty dictator. That is a very common misconception made popular by Thermidorian and British propaganda, but it is not true. Any historian of the French Revolution worth their salt should be able to confirm this. Regardless, when most people think of the French Revolution, they think only of the Terror and a historically inaccurate depiction of Robespierre, but it is so much more than that. People who think only from this perspective are truly missing out on the bigger picture (as well as the autism). This revolution was fought by the citizens of France as they demolished an entire royal monarchy and fought for years to keep the country from collapsing under the intense pressure of having all of Europe declare war on them. 

I occasionally see people saying that the French Revolution failed, but if you’re the type of person to prioritise thorough research, you would know that this is not true. The French Revolution most certainly did not fail. It set the groundwork for the freedom and equality of the French people. During the Revolution, they got rid of slavery (until Napoleon came along), they legalised homosexuality, cut off the heads of several rich people and so much more. They established the National Assembly and the National Convention, and eventually the CSP (Committee of Public Safety, and that’s how I get confused whenever someone brings up Child Protection Services by its acronym). The Revolution succeeded in so many ways with its major failing being for the most part putting so many responsibilities on the shoulders of the individual members of the CSP and expecting them to be able to handle all of that. The French Revolution had a massive impact upon the world, changing it in so many different ways and it represents so many things that I could genuinely spend fifty pages talking about its historical significance and how it relates to the modern world, but I will keep things brief (for once) with a quick summary so that it’s at least somewhat comprehensible to those who doesn’t have my level of autism. 

The thing that sets the American Revolution apart from the French Revolution and explains in many ways the difference of politics lies in the ideas that drove each revolution. The Americans wanted ‘freedom’, sure, but the French wanted much more than just that. They strived for equality and a country that was not controlled purely by the monarchy and the church. By abolishing their monarchy—something that not even the Americans could do—they achieved a lot both in the short-term and long-term. The Revolution did not fail, even despite Napoleon, the Thermidorian Reaction and establishment of a constitutional monarchy just a few decades later. They killed their King, someone that held a position of power believed to be bestowed upon them by God, and they created a Republic. Such things were unheard of until now. This led to massive changes in society with the rise of the middle class. It redefined the concepts of governance, citizenship and human rights. The distribution of power was forever changed and the realisation that the French people could rise up against their own government, take down the monarchy and succeed is also what sparked the Haitian Revolution, as well as paving the way for the eventual elimination of several monarchies across the continent. It helped shape our modern day ideas of liberty and democratic rights and it unified the French people in a way that still affects the culture of France along with several other places. On top of that, it can also be said that the French Revolution set up the foundations for the rise of socialism and communism. The French Revolution succeeded in more ways than most people realise and it’s that fight for equality by the working class that has given France such an intense revolutionary spirit. To say that it was an overreaction to start burning stuff down when France’s government raised the retirement age by a couple of years is foolish, because that revolutionary spirit is the reason that the French have so many rights and America does not. 

And the only reason why people tell you that the French Revolution didn’t work or was a bad idea is because that then discourages other people from attempting any kind of their own revolt regardless of how corrupt and abusive the government becomes. So long as the public remains undereducated, they will be easier for the government to control.

That is also why I believe that history is the most important subject that you can learn in school. That’s also a part of why I’m saying all this. If you are able to understand the past, you can predict the future. Many of the same or similar factors are present before and during the beginning of every revolution. These factors often include, but are not limited to:

Inflation; a lack of affordable food and housing; increased violence; high levels of unemployment; social inequality; suppression of opposing voices; economic failure; increased class consciousness; underpaid workers; worker strikes; political protests; intentional election rigging; people no longer accepting the traditional powers of authority; rising popularity of radical ideologies; the collective realisation that several other individuals share the same opinion on a certain situation; increased risk and fear of death among the citizens; high taxes; a shift in politics that results in the people becoming less divided; increased focus on the real conflict being the privileged rich elites versus everyone else; politicians not keeping the promises of things they said they would do; decreased trust and approval of the government; stricter and more dictatorial laws; unlawful arrest of innocent citizens because of something they merely said (the government is becoming paranoid); lower classes becoming more and more fed up with the old regime; government debt; army/military joins the side of the people rather than the government; groups of people rebelling against the law; an ineffective government with politicians focusing on the wrong issues, ignoring the voices of the people and patting themselves on the back for nothing; politicians and government members are fighting amongst themselves and getting nothing done; political deadlock; more people speaking out against the government; the government is losing control over the people; the government is desperately trying to gain back control through the use of propaganda, fear mongering and taking advantage of media outlets; a general increased struggle to survive; mass frustration; riots and local uprisings; conflict between the old and new ways of governance; visible difference in wealth distribution; unifying motivations; and finally a prolonged period of economic and social development followed by a period of sharp reversal in which people fear that progress made is about to be stripped away and lost.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? Yeah, only after writing all this down in my draft did I realise that nearly every single cause of revolution can be applied as a true statement of the United States of America. Huh, what a funny and extremely specific coincidence that is. So what exactly am I suggesting here? Well, to essentially summarize everything that I have written thus far: We might just be on the verge of Revolution. I learned a while ago that once a country hits rock bottom, that’s when a revolution begins and based on the presidential election results, America is about to dive quite deep into the pits of Hell. But don’t worry, it’s not all doom and gloom. That’s why I’ve written this. So long as the individuals of the lower classes are able to stand united and fight for liberty, equality and dare I say fraternity, a greater change shall be able to be made. The choice of standing around and simply hoping that things will improve isn’t much of a choice anymore. There is no better time to take action than right now while we still have a fighting chance. This is not something to fear, but rather to look forward to and encourage. The American citizens combined together can greatly outweigh the government. Those wealthy politicians are not as powerful as they think they are. Their power lies in ensuring that the people remain divided and the recent events with the UHC shooter prove that there is indeed a chance to diminish that power. They are not immortal. Even the greatest empire eventually burned away. 

And while we can’t all be famous revolutionaries, that doesn’t mean that each person can’t help to bring the change we’ve needed for a long time. It starts small. It starts with taking care of our own communities and advocating for other people every chance we get. So long as we as a people remain united, there is little change we cannot bring. The Revolution has only just begun…

[bogos-bint3d]

Me and my cousin have normal conversations.

[infizero]

why isgrian shipping the warden and the wither

[digitaldiseas3]

can't tell if i'm like... starting to dislike these girls because im pmsing and that's pretty typical for me to suddenly not like certain people, or if it's genuinely because they've been giving me weird fucking vibes and did smth i think was shitty :/

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 6:

Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

----

A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.

You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.

What...?

You could hardly think.

The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.

You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.

The Joker.

"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.

This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?

You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.

The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.

"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"

He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.

"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.

A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.

"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"

A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.

It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.

That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.

The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.

"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.

It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...

"Batman?!"

The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.

"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."

"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.

"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.

Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.

Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.

Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.

Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.

"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.

"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.

"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"

"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."

What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.

"You." He smiles.

He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"

He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.

Up.

What could you do?

Down.

Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.

Up.

Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.

Down.

The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.

Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.

Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.

You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.

BANG!

"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.

But..

Why didn't he shoot you?

"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.

There's a crowbar in his hands.

"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"

"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.

He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.

"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.

The Joker's reply is simple.

"Nope!"

He swings.

BANG!

A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.

You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.

He's wearing a red helmet.

"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.

"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.

“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”

“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.

“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.

There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.

A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.

You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.

Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.

Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?

You gulp.

“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.

Exposed.

“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.

Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.

“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.

“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.

In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.

Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?

That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.

Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.

Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.

“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.

“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.

Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.

Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.

You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.

Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.

You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.

----

Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!

Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.

A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger

@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog

Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. Hopefully I can tag the remaining people in a comment!

[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[beautysamour]

Dick Grayson X Overstimulation ! something where Dick is jealous or a little angry because the protagonist doesn't care about herself Dick is an Overprotective boyfriend

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐: 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

— 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Di—ick,” you squeeze your eyes shut as you start to recover from your orgasm. The bed squeaks in sync with his cock hitting that weak spot inside your pussy.

“Oh, now the pretty girl calls out my name yeah? Fuck—,” he tries to keep his head up as you clench around his cock, “What happened to the other guy, huh?” He shuts his eyes, his dick twitching inside of you as a wet moan leaves your throat.

“He—he doesn’t matter! I wa—hah—was just teasing you,” you arch your back into him, fingers gripping onto the bedsheets as you start to remember how every vein on his cock feels.

He laughs, lowering himself so his torso meets your arched body. He watches the way your face contorts—it’s not enough.

“Ba—baby, I’m clo—!,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, the sound of his balls hitting your ass ringing through your ears, “Oh my…fuck.”

You moan as your knees get pushed to your chest, your boyfriends deeper thrusts causing your heart to stutter, “Dick, Dick—hah, baby, that feels good, that feels soooo—“

“I know, I know,” he smiled sadistically as he watched your eyes cross, he kissed the sides of your ankles as he flicked your nub—what a beautiful sight you were.

Suddenly your body stiffened, “Dick—Dick—! Dick, I’m—cumming!”

He chuckled at the way you gripped onto the bedsheets, as if you would never come back down from cloud nine if you hadn’t. His eyes glimmered with lust as he watched your cum splutter everywhere.

He waits for your eyes to open, waits for you to look at him—“Fuck, baby,” his eyes shut as he feels his cock twitch while your pussy spasms around him. His head drops, his grip on your ankles tightening as his cum mix with yours.

You fight back a moan as you watch him cum, the sight of him reaching his peak making your pussy clench, “You’re so hot.”

He chuckles, eyes still closed as he starts to lower your legs, “Even more than that guy?”

A cocky smirk forms on his face as you try to answer but get cut off by a moan—a moan that he’s responsible for, not that other guy.

“I already told you—,” you choke on your breath as Dick starts to slowly thrust into you again, “—he doesn’t mat—ter to me.”

Wincing as Dick hits your g—spot, you muster all the strength you could, which isn’t much right now, to wrap your legs around his waist, “Only yo—you matter.”

Dick snorts as you look at him through watery eyes, he makes sure to brush his finger against your nub as he hits your sweet spot. He leans down, pressing a kiss on your stomach and leaving a trail as he reaches your neck, “Figured that no one else can make you feel this good?”

The bed squeaks as he moves his hips, you secure your grip around his waist.

“A-also because I lo—love you,” your head tilts back against the pillow as the feeling of pleasure gets mixed in with pain as your pussy twitches around his dick for the nth time.

He pauses for a second at hearing those words—just for a second before his composure comes back—and tears start to fill your vision as your g—spot gets overwhelmed, “I love you too, baby, but,” his hand travels from your pussy to your stomach, and he pushes down locating his cock.

“I need you to forget him, and we have all night for that.”

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Lewis Hamilton Ver.

WC: 4.6K

Summery: You live in a world where soulmates exist, and each person is born being able communicate with them by writing on your own skin.

Warning: one curse, make out session, death of a parent and a dog, not specified age gap.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

Everyone describes finding their soulmate as the best thing that could ever happen to them. Everyone grows up being able to communicate with their soulmate through their skin. Whatever you write will appear on the other’s skin. And once you wipe it off it’s gone from their skin. Only your soulmates writing will show up on the others, it wasn’t uncommon for children to write on obvious places in hopes of finding that love all adults describe, usually parents or adults will make them wipe it away but it still happens.

The marking is a way for you to identify your significant other, a way for you to find them. But the universe decided not to make it that easy. One of the things you can’t share is your name, where you are, and sometimes what you do. It can’t be that easy, you have to work for it, you have to wait for it.

Your markings started when you were just a baby, showcasing that your soulmate is a bit older than you, not an adult but definitely older. Your parents realised that after a while and since you couldn’t write yet, the writings from your soulmate stopped. You remember the first time you decided to write to your soulmate.

You just wrote a simple : Hi.

It only took a minute or so before a Hi was written under yours. It made you break into a fit of giggles. The happiness you had then was unbeatable.

And so you started talking to your soulmate, who is definitely older than you, and he definitely knew it and spoke to you appropriately to your age. Growing up with your soulmate, you realised how determined, kind, and level-headed he is. He’s the one you always go to for advice. He always has your back and best interest in mind. A problem with a friend, you ask him. Can’t decide what to study, you ask him. What food to eat, you ask him. You’ve come to know when he’s sad from the way he wrote and you always found yourself writing encouraging things to him when that happened, or stupid jokes that you hoped made him laugh or just feel a bit better. You always wrote or doodled to each other every day. All soulmates, especially those who haven’t found each other, always carry a pen with them, just in case.

For Lewis, today was different. You’re always doodling, always having something to day to him. So when the morning turned to the afternoon before it was the evening and his messages went unanswered, and he just sat staring at his empty skin, his heart suk. He has never felt so alone since you first wrote that cute Hi all those years ago. Your absence weighing him down.

And so one day turned into two and then three, and as he continued to write, he became ore desperate, hoping for a reply that never came. Worry ate at him, making it hard to focus, and he had to focus he had a race.

Finally, on the fourth day, he got a response.

’I’m sorry I didn’t write to you.'

His heart skipped a beat, he replied instantly.

’are you okay?’

You choked back a sob once you read his words, not reaching out to him, broke you, but you were already broken, already so sad, grieving.

’My mum died’ You wrote as tears left your eyes smudging the ink as it transferred into his skin. ‘I feel so lost.’

The reply from your soulmate came instantly. ‘I’m so sorry love, I’m here for you always’

You clutched the pen, the wight of your grief letting for s second by his words. Despite the distance, you felt his presence, a comforting warmth that soothed your heart.

’I wish you were here’ you wrote your heart yearning for the comfort of his presence. You haven’t met him yet, but you knew he’s what you need right now.

‘I am’ He replied. ‘I may not be there physically, but my heart is with you, always.’

One day, as you stared into the mirror, you found out that you and your soulmates are one of those rare ones. Because you’re one of the least, then 1% that when your soulmate gets a tattoo, it appears on your skin. Thankfully it’s not black ink, but it’s pale lines. It looks like healed scars. Your soulmate had no idea that you’re that kind of soulmates, and you never told him, so as the years went on, more lines started appearing on your skin. Some left you confused, and some left you smiling. You almost told him when he got the tattoos on his hands because some people thought it was scars at first before they got closer to you and realised it’s drawing and lines and writings.

You closed your eyes, imagining him by your side, feeling his arms around you, offering the solace you so desperately needed. Over the next few days, your exchange became your lifeline. Each message from him helped you a little. He was there for every stage of your grief process until you were okay, as okay as you could be and even after that.

You’re always thankful that he hasn’t tattooed his face. You were confused with the 44 behind your ear and the lion on your chest, but there was one tattoo that he got recently that had you raising an eyebrow. The tattoo was near your pelvic bone in cursive. It would be covered by his underwear. It was like a tattoo that only you two knew about, even if he had no idea that you knew about them.

You work for an event firm in the UK. The company has been able to secure a deal with Formula 1 to do some events for the fans in Silverstone. And for once you and your soulmate seem to be in the same time zone, it’s always hard for you to write and the other to be awake at that time. So your mood was good, you felt happy and excited about the event. There was something that made you feel giddy and ready for the event to start. Planning took time and was hard, but you’re happy with the outcome.

The one tattoo that helped you more than you’d think is the big Still I Rise across your back. Every time you felt down, didn’t do well in something you’re doing you’d catch a glimpse of it, and you’d feel better, and you’d try harder.

The first two days went by smoothly, for the four days you were working. You were walking around the paddock with a clipboard in hand, your hands scanning the crowds for something, you don’t know what, or who. But you just had this urge to look around. You needed to focus on your job, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen. It was a sensation in the pit of your stomach, pulling you towards something unknown.

You were so lost in thought that you almost missed it. It was a fleeting glance, a glimpse of a figure moving through the crowd, but you saw it, you have no idea how but you saw it, the unmistakable tattoo, ‘god is love’.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hand went to your neck, and you touched where you knew yours was. You blinked, trying to steady your breath and look again. The man turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his hand. It mirrored the one you have on your own hand. Looking at his face before he goes lost in the crowd, you frown. You’ve seen him before. You frown and walk in the direction he went, looking around before you stop dead in your tracks. There he was, looking at you. Lewis Hamilton… his poster, of course. The 7 time world champion is your soulmate.

You take out your pen and start writing on the palm of your hand.

’how’s the weather?’

It took him a few minutes, a few minutes of you stressing. Did you imagine it? Was this actually your soulmate?

‘gloomy, what about where you are?’

’also gloomy’ you write back and sigh, you bite your lip and head back to where your boss is, you’ve known her for a long time and she became like a friend to you.

As you were walking, you saw a big screen showing what was happening on stage in another part of the track. There he was, as a strange sense of deja vu hits you. It was like you knew him your entire life. You stared as he laughed and chatted with the interviewer.

You took out your phone as you reached your team.

”y/n, are you okay?” Your boss asked, you nod not looking up. She didn’t believe you and walked up to you. “y/n?”

”I-uh, I think I know who my soulmate is.” You look up at her with vurnable eyes. She frowned.

”That’s a good thing, right?” She asked you, confused by your behaviour, you turn the phone for her to see. There was a picture of hands that held the same tattoos as yours. Her mouth went into an O shape when she read the name of the article that had the picture attached to. “Oh.”

”Yes.” Your voice trembled. “I need to get into the Mercedes motorhome or garage or something.”

”Consider it done.” She said. “I’ll have to make a few calls.”

Your heart was in your throat as you walked to the Mercedes motorhome with your new pass along with your boss. You had finished your work for the day, and she wanted to be there for you. You both walked into the building, the weather in there much warmer than outside, the room was buzzing with staff and guests alike. You took off your jacket and pushed the long sleeves of your shirt up as you felt the warmth of the room. A woman dressed in the Mercedes uniform walked up to you and your boss.

She greeted her, and they both talked. They knew each other from school. The woman then turned to you and smiled. “Welcome to Mercedes, I was told you wanted to come today.”

You put out your hand to shake hers, and she looks down at your hand and frowns. Most likely, she thought you had scars before she glanced closely and realisation hit her. She looked up at you with wide eyes. “I’m looking for someone that I think I share his tattoos.”

”I see.” Her eyes softened as she understood your words, and she noticed your nervousness. “You’re in the right place. Let me see what I can do.”

She led you upstairs where the VIPs were, as you waited, your mind raced. It was a mix of excitement and nerves. You glanced at your tattoos as you traced them.

“Calm down, y/n, it’s going to be alright.” You boss comforted you and pulled you in for a hug. You hugged her back and closed your eyes.

”Excuse me.” A voice interrupted your hug. You both pulled apart and looked at the man in front of you.

”Yes?” Your boss asked, but the man had his eyes on you.

”I’m sorry for sounding rude, but can I see your arms.” You recognised him then, it’s Lewis’ dad. You gave him your hand, and he inspected it, be fore he pulled up in for a hug. “Oh my god, thank you, thank you.” You just let him hug you. He bruptely pulled back and looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

”It’s alright, this is emotional for everyone.” You said, tearing up a bit yourself. The Mercedes woman came back and smiled at the scene in front of her.

”Lewis is in a meeting room going over some data, I think it’s better you meet him there.” She said and glanced around. “More private.”

”Yes, yes, that’s best.” Lewis’s dad said, and you were shooed by him and your boss. You followed her up another flight of stairs to the top level, where the meeting rooms are. She walked into a room in front of you.

“Lewis, there’s someone here who needs to speak with you.” She said, her voice calm and reassuring. Lewis looked up, his brows furrowing as he turned to face the both of you. “This is y/n, I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

With that, she smiled at the two of you and left, closing the door after herself.

”Hi.” You said as you tried to fight the smile from your face but failed in the end.

”Hi.” Lewis stood up, he was walking around the table to reach you when he noticed your arms, he frowned, he wasn’t one to judge but he was surprised to see the scars? He stopped, but you walked a couple of steps closer. He then noticed it, tattoos.

Lewis was stumped. He thought they were scars, and he wondered what happened to you for you to get them. But in a split second, he noticed that they’re tattoos. His tattoos, on your hands, arms, and any part of skin, he could see. He took a step forward, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

”Are they real?” He asked his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you… are you really her?”

You felt your throat tighten, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I think so, I’ve been seeing your tattoos on my skin for what seems to be my whole life.”

”I can’t believe it.” He said, his voice soft as a slow smile spread across his face. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

As you stood facing each other, it seemed like the world around you faded, and noises from outside ceased to exist. This is the moment you both were looking for, waiting for. You take out the pen you have in your pocket, and as a final point to prove that you are, in fact, soulmates, and your soulmate isn’t just a Lewis superfan, you write on your hand.

’Hi.’

Lewis looks at the palm of his hand and smiles. He turns it to you and there in an identical handwriting his ‘Hi.’

Lewis reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and his touch sending a thrill through you.

”There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to know.” He said, his voice filled with emotion. “But first, I just want to thank you for being there, for walsh being a part of my life, even before we met, when we were apart.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you smiled up at him. “I’ve always felt you with me.” You said as your own voice trembled. “Even when we were miles apart, I knew you were there, and now… we’re finally together.”

”Yeah.” Lewis squeezed your hand, he said softly, his eyes welling with tears of his own. “We’re together, and I promise I’ll never let you go.”

You throw your arms around him for a hug, and he doesn’t hesitate before he hugs you back. You imagined being in his arms time and time again. Every time he comforted you, you'd imagine he’s right there giving you a hug. All those imaginations are nothing compared to the real thing. The warmth of his hug, the security and familiarity of it all is different.

It’s all so overwhelming that tears wouldn't stop leaving your eyes as you clutch him tighter. Lewis runs his hand up and down your back.

”I can’t believe I finally found you.” You sob, and it takes a lot for him not to cry with you.

”Me neither, I’ve been waiting for a long time.” Lewis said and pulled back to see your face.

”God, you must’ve waited for a long time.” You say realising that he’s older than you. He’s had to wait for longer. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to go through everything alone.”

”I wasn’t.” Lewis whispers, his eyes holding yours hostage. “You’ve always been there for me, ever since your little Hi, you’ve been there.”

The door opens before you can say anything, and it’s one of Lewis’ engineers. He looks apologetic once he sees the two of you.

”I’m so sorry, but Lewis it’s time to go.” With that, the man ducks out of the room and leaves the two of you alone once more. Lewis hesitates, and he doesn’t want to leave you.

”Go, I’ll be here when you’re done.” You tell him with a teary smile, Lewis kisses your cheek, takes a deep breath, and prolongs his hold on you before he has to let go.

Lewis tells his team to take care of you, you’re given an all access pass for the Merc premises. You watch qualifying with Anthony, Lewis’ dad. He tells you what’s happening, trying to explain it to you as much as possible. You’ve never been a sports fan, so you never stumbled across Formula 1 before. And other than the research you and the team have done for the event, you knew nothing, but it looks like you’re about to know everything.

“He went first, right?” You asked Anthony not taking your eyes away from the screens. You were sitting at the edge of your seat, filled with anticipation and buzzing with the mood of the room.

”Yes, there’s still Q3, but he’s done the fastest lap in Q2.” Anthony explained, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Taking your pen out, you write ‘you did so well, i’m cheering you on’

Lewis, of course doesn’t answer, but he’s seen your message, and you hope it helps keep his confidence high. Anthony told you about Lewis winning in Silverstone before and how it was in 2020 that he’s done it last. Your ringers crosses as Q3 started, with each lap the track evolved and everyone kept changing position, it was a Mclaren and Mercedes fight, and as the chequered flag was waved and the last cars passed, George went first, before Lewis passed the finish line and taking pole position. The room erupted in cheers, your eyes welled with tears once more, you don’t know all the hardships Lewis went through in his career, but you knew it meant a lot to him. You’ve known when he was at his lowest, and he’s been feeling down for a long time, and you found out why that is. But here you are now, and here you’ll stay.

You write another message after you whip the first away.

’congrats, I’m so happy for you.’

You see Lewis get out of his car, congratulate George, and get weighted before he takes off his helmet and gloves. He looks at his hand and smiles. You feel ecstatic seeing how happy he looks from your words. Anthony pats your hand for a moment. He’s thankful for your presence in his son’s life.

After Lewis is done with his interviews and whatnot, he goes back to his driver’s room, where you’re waiting for him. When he walks in, you imminently hug him, buzzing with excitement.

”Lewis, that was amazing. You did so good, I’m so happy for you.” You say and breathe him in.

”It was all for you, y/n.” Lewis says, and you couldn’t fight the blush from forming on your face. Lewis’s hands cupped your face before he took notice of the tattoo on your neck. He traced it, looking behind your ears for the ones he knew would be there. “did you get all of them?”

”Yeah, all them, I saw most of them get done.” You told him and Lewis’s fingers moved to your. hands looking at the lines he knew by heart.

“Did it hurt?” He asked his eyes, meeting yours.

“Not one bit.”

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Lewis was confused.

”Would you have stopped?”

”Of course.” Lewis answered in disbelief, almost offended you’d ask such a thing.

”That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Lewis chuckled and continued up your arm raising your sleeve with it, until he couldn’t anymore, his touch left you breathless, it was electrifying. You gently turned around and raised your shirt for him to see your back, his biggest tattoo. “I was scared about this one first since it was done in a few sessions.”

Lewis didn’t respond. His eyes were locked onto the skin that’s being exposed to him. From the look of your skin, one would think it’d be rough, but as his hands moved from the bottom of your spin and up your back, it couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. His hands left goosebumps in their wake. You closed your eyes, and your breath shuddered as you let it out. You move your hands up, and with Lewis, you remove your shirt.

Lewis’s hands hover over your bra clasps. You lean back into him, and that was all the encouragement he needs. He quickly unclasp it and watches his tattoo on your skin.

”You know, this shows everyone you’re mine.” Lewis’s voice sounded hoarse, his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

”Left your mark on me before we even met.” You said, sounding breathless. You turned around and looked at him, your eyes half closed, your hands on his chest. “Maybe I should do a tattoo of my name so everyone would know that you’re mine.”

Lewis groaned at your words, his hands holding your waist a little lighter. Your hand moved down his chest, feeling his abs before you felt his pelvic bone going down before you stopped.

”I want to know why you have this one.” You bite your lip, stopping your smile from breaking through.

“It was an impulsive decision.” Lewis breathed out and pulled you closer by the belt loops of your pants.

“Well, we have to see who the lucky one is.” You say rearing to the ‘lucky you’ tattoo you both share right next to your private area.

“I can already tell, I’m the lucky one.” Lewis whispered just as his lips tout he’d yours. The kiss was full of love and lust. The intensity left you gasping, Lewis took his chance to deepen the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck and the other slid to the top of your butt. His lips were warm and demanding, moving with an urgency, he’s waited for this moment for a very long time. Your hands went up to his braids, and you pulled slightly. Your mouths moved in a heated dance, just enough tongue touching to leave you craving for more. The kiss seemed to heat up, consuming, as you tried to memorise each other.

His hand moved from the top of your but up your back, feeling the skin there, and you pressed yourself against him, feeling the solid muscle of his chest, his heart beating hard, matching yours.

Breaking away was hard, but the small breaths you both were taking weren’t enough, and you needed oxygen. “Fuck, what are you doing to me.” Lewis asked, his voice husky and raw.

”Me? What are you doing to me?” You look at his lips red and a little puffy from the kissing you’ve been doing, and you know yours will match his.

“Maybe we should wait until we’re in a more private place.” Lewis says, having the same train of thought as you, he glanced at the door which he hasn’t locked.

“I think so.” You mumble before pressing your lips for one, two, three more kisses.

”Turn around, I’ll help you.” Lewis mumbled, and you followed his words. He hooks your bra and hands you your shirt back. He even helped you pull it down.

Walking out of his room after you’ve both calmed down, no one was the wiser to the make out session you two just had. You went back with Lewis to his house, his family left the two of you to talk, to get to know each other.

So you sat with Lewis in one of his hoodies and shorts, your make up wiped away and just ready for a cosy night.

“What’s your favourite tattoo?” Lewis asked you curious, you hummed thinking about it. You both sat on the sofa right next to each other, Lewis had his elbow on the back of the sofa and his head on his hand, the other one in yours, your legs were over his, it looked as if you were intertwined.

”They’re all unique and there isn’t one that I mind, maybe the Muhammad Ali I don’t enjoy as much.” You say with a giggle, Lewis pats your calf where the tattoo is visible. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing and everything, a legend for certain.”

”But not enough to have him tattooed onto your body.” Lewis adds for you and you nod.

”The one I resonate with the most, is the still I rise one.” You tell Lewis. “You certainly got it at a time when I was feeling the worst and like a fauliar, since you got it whenever I felt like I couldn’t do something I’d look at it and I’d just try again.”

”I’m glad.” Lewis smiles at your words.

”Who’s Coco?” You ask lewis taking his hand is in yours, “My dog, she died in 2020.” Lewis said and you squeezed his hand, feeling bad for him and for brining it up.

”I remember you told me about it, a heart attack right?” Lewis nodded, you brought his hand up so you could kiss it.

”There was so many times, that I wished you were with me.” Lewis confessed, the tones of your voices calm, low and intimate. “I wanted to find you so bad, so many times.”

”I did too, I hate that you spent so much without me.” You tell him and sigh, before giving him a small smile. “But we get to spend the rest of our lives together.”

”We do, I’m taking you with me everywhere.” Lewis says and pulls on your hands making you move that bit closer.

”Good, because I’m not leaving you.”

”Tell us, Lewis, what do you think made you have the last push to win today?” The interviewer, Jensen Button, asked Lewis, who smiled and searched for you between the Mercedes crew. You just emerged between them with a grin on your face, this was all new to you, so you had no idea that you could be at parc ferme and see the podium from there.

”My soulmate.” Was his simple answer, the fans all cheered as Jenson was shocked that Lewis found his soulmate after so long.

”She’s here?” Jensen asked, and Lewis nodded with an unbeatable grin.

”Right there, and I can’t wait to go and kiss her.” Lewis said, pointing in your direction.

”Well, one more question before we let you go and do just that…” Jensen asked the queastion and Lewis was paying half mind to him, he gave a practised answer. “Okay, we’ll let you go to your soulmate.” Jensen put the mic away before he patted Lewis’ shoulder. “Congrats, mate.”

He wasn’t talking about the win. Finding your soulmate is much more important than any race win.

Lewis walked up to you and did exactly what he said he’s do, his hands went to your cheeks, yours to his race suit to pull him closer, before his lips landed on yours.

The camera flashes were blinding as the fans all cheered for you both. What a moment.

Lewis pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re my lucky charm. You have to come to every race.”

”I already told you you can’t get rid of me, I’m not leaving you.” You tell him before he was pulled away. He had to go.

You watched Lewis on the top of the podium with the biggest smile, his eyes caught yours and he sent you a wink.

Lewis sprayed the champagne before he raised it up and took a sip out of it.

Here’s to forever.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[thedensworld]

And No News | J.Ww

Genre: angst, est relationship

Summary: Wonwoo can't reach you all day and he was worried.

Wonwoo tapped in the passcode and slipped into your apartment. The place was dark, only a sliver of streetlight filtering through the blinds. You weren't home yet. He glanced at his watch—11 pm, and still no sign of you. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his usually calm demeanor. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply before dropping onto the cold, untouched couch.

He fished out his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. None of his messages had been delivered. Maybe your phone had died, or worse, maybe you turned it off on purpose. He didn’t know, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It felt like you were shutting him out, like he was some shadow lurking on the outskirts of your life, some afterthought you remembered only when it was convenient.

Wonwoo knew it was petty to think that way. You were busy; he got it. He had his own responsibilities too. But he always tried to carve out space for you, for this—whatever it was that you two had. Yet it was starting to feel like he was the only one doing any of the carving, the only one bending and compromising until there was nothing left of himself. He hated comparing, but lately, it seemed like he was the only one trying to keep your relationship from crumbling into something unrecognizable.

The sound of the door code beeping startled him from his thoughts. He glanced at his watch again—it was past midnight. An hour had slipped by without him even realizing. He looked up as you stepped in, calling his name softly, like you hadn’t expected him to be there. You noticed him immediately because of the faint glow of the lamp he’d turned on.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice weary as you dropped your bag and keys on the coffee table. Wonwoo watched you silently, his gaze following you as you shuffled toward the bathroom without another word. No explanation, no apology, not even a simple how are you? The door clicked shut, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Of course, you were probably tired. You always were these days. But so was he.

When you finally emerged, fresh-faced and changed into your pajamas, you walked over to him, crossing your arms as if bracing yourself for something.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone neutral, almost distant.

Wonwoo didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a sign—any sign—that you cared even a fraction as much as he did.

“What time is it?” he asked quietly.

You glanced at the clock and sighed. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“It’s past midnight,” he repeated, his voice tighter this time. “What were you doing out this late?”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back. “I was working… then I had dinner with a friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his throat dry. He hadn’t eaten because he’d been waiting, sitting here like some idiot who believed you’d come home in time. But that wasn’t what bothered him. No, it was the way you didn’t even think to inform him, the way you assumed it was okay to leave him hanging.

“I tried texting you all afternoon,” he said slowly, holding up his phone. “But your phone was off.”

You rubbed your face, exhaustion lining your features. “Sorry, I forgot to charge it.”

Wonwoo let out a humorless laugh. “You always say that. It’s not the first time your phone’s died while you’re working, and it’s not the first time I’ve been left wondering where the hell you are.” His voice rose slightly, unable to keep the bitterness out. “I was worried about you all day.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been caught up with a project we need to finish by the weekend. I lost track of time and got distracted.” Your voice was pleading, but it only made the irritation in Wonwoo’s chest flare hotter.

“‘Lost track of time,’ ‘forgot,’ ‘I’m sorry.’” Wonwoo’s eyes blazed as he leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers he was searching for. “Last time, you said sorry too. But you still did it again. Every. Single. Time.”

“I know—” you began, but he cut you off, sitting up abruptly.

“No, you don’t know!” he snapped, startling both of you. “You don’t get it. I’m tired too. I have things to do, responsibilities to take care of, but I’m always here, aren’t I? Waiting for you, making excuses for you, forgiving you before you even apologize—if you even bother to apologize at all.”

“Wonwoo, please—”

“Please, what?” he demanded, his voice breaking a little. He stood up, towering over you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful. “I’m tired of always coming second. Of always being the one who has to understand. You say you’re sorry, but you don’t change. You never change.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his emotions were spiraling. He looked away, jaw clenched. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one trying to keep us together. Like I’m… I’m the only one who even cares.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “I’m doing my best. It’s just work—”

“It’s always work,” Wonwoo muttered bitterly. “You know what? I get it. Work is important. I would never ask you to choose. But… would it kill you to make a little more room for me? For us?”

Silence fell between you two, heavy and suffocating. You looked down, your lips pressed into a thin line, and he knew then that whatever he said, however much he begged, it wouldn’t change a thing.

“Forget it,” he muttered, brushing past you and heading for the door. “I should go. You’re probably tired, right? Just get some rest.”

“Wonwoo, wait—” you called, reaching out to him, but he was already halfway out the door.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, and before you could respond, the door closed behind him with a quiet thud. And you were left standing there, alone, with the apology you never got to say stuck in your throat.

*

Wonwoo never got mad—really mad. And last night was the first time you’d heard his voice rise like that, cracking through the usually calm and unshakable persona he carried like armor. Sure, you two had argued before. Little things here and there, petty misunderstandings that fizzled out almost as soon as they started. It was always resolved with one of you giving up or simply brushing it aside, pretending it hadn’t happened in the first place.

In the beginning, you were the one who used to pick fights. His calm and quiet demeanor had frustrated you to no end. You couldn’t understand him, couldn’t read him, and the constant absence—both physical and emotional—drove you insane. He was always caught up in his work, giving little time for you two to sit down and have a real, heart-to-heart conversation.

You used to demand updates, craving any tiny piece of information that would give you a sense of closeness. Where was he? Who was he with? Why couldn’t he spare a second to reach out? Wonwoo was a terrible communicator, leaving you grappling to hold onto the loose threads of your relationship. But he had changed for you. Little by little, he’d learned how to make room for you, even if it meant stepping outside of his comfort zone. You’d seen his effort, and that had made you fall for him even harder.

But then things flipped. You were the one who got busy, swept into the whirlwind of your new job at an event organizing company. The endless meetings, sleepless nights, and back-to-back projects consumed your time. You thought he’d understand since he had always been the busy one. Yet as you dove deeper into your career, it was as if you’d unknowingly turned into the very person you used to resent him for being—distant, preoccupied, forgetting to even check in.

Wonwoo’s patience was unraveling thread by thread, the steadiness that had once drawn you to him now cracking under the weight of your absence. It was almost as if he were fighting an unseen rival—your job, your responsibilities—jealous in a way that confused you. Did you like his attention? His sudden need to know your every move, to constantly check up on you? Yes, you did. But you had so much on your plate that you assumed he’d understand, just as you had tried to understand him before.

Now, standing in the cold bathroom light, you were doubled over the sink, the sour bile of your dinner clawing its way up your throat. You retched violently, but nothing came out—only a bitter, acrid taste lingering on your tongue. The pain in your stomach was relentless, searing hot, and spreading like wildfire. You clutched the sink’s edge, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your knees buckled, body folding as you slid against the wall and slumped onto the cold tile floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted, and each inhale only made the pain worse. Every nerve screamed in agony, and your entire body felt heavy—like it wasn’t even your own anymore.

Fumbling blindly, you reached for your phone on the bathroom counter. You didn’t know who else to call, who else would drop everything for you at a moment’s notice. Your fingers trembled as you dialed the one number you had on speed dial—Wonwoo’s.

It rang once, then twice, and for a moment, dread crept in. What if he didn’t pick up? What if he was still too upset, too angry with you?

Finally, the line clicked, but instead of the familiar warmth you usually heard in his voice, you were met with a cold, strained tone. “What is it?”

His indifference hurt more than you expected, but you couldn’t dwell on it. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the words between ragged breaths. “Can you come…?” Your voice was a weak rasp, barely audible even to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” His tone changed instantly, the sharp edge replaced by alarm. “Where are you?”

You leaned back against the wall, your body sliding further down as your grip on the phone loosened. “I think… food poisoning,” you managed to whisper, feeling the world start to tilt and spin around you. “I think I’m going to pass out…”

“Wait, what?” Wonwoo’s voice grew louder, panic bleeding into each syllable. “Where are you? Are you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, struggling to stay conscious. The phone slipped from your grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud. You could faintly hear Wonwoo’s voice calling your name, his words frantic and urgent, but it felt like it was coming from somewhere far away, almost as if you were underwater.

“Hey—stay with me! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just hang in there!” His voice cracked, the desperation palpable.

You tried to nod, to say something, anything, but your vision was darkening, the pain in your stomach swelling until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Cold sweat trickled down your face, and you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay awake for just a little longer.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered weakly, but your voice was swallowed up by the crushing silence of the bathroom.

Then everything went black.

*

Wonwoo sat quietly in the waiting room, eyes fixed on the floor as the doctor examined you. The sterile, cold atmosphere of the hospital did nothing to ease the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment he got you to the emergency room, all the anger and frustration from the night before had drained from him, replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt. This was his fault—he was sure of it. You were lying there, weak and suffering, because he couldn’t understand you, couldn’t meet you halfway.

He was selfish. He knew that much about himself. From the moment he met you, you were everything he had ever wanted—smart, beautiful, independent—but deep down, he feared that he couldn’t be enough for you. He’d always been terrified that his flaws, his shortcomings, would eventually drive you away. But you had changed him. You had shown him how to grow, how to be better, and he wanted to be better—for you.

But last night… last night was different. He lost control. He let his insecurities get the best of him, raising his voice at you for the first time in your entire relationship. It felt wrong, and yet, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He knew now that you weren’t the only one at fault. You had been caught up in your new job, excited and busy with the demands of a new career—exploring everything you could bring to the table. And more than anything, you were happy. It was written all over your face when you talked about your work, a joy you hadn’t had in your last job.

He should have understood that. After all, he had been in the same position not too long ago. When work consumed him to the point where he couldn't find time for anything else, including you. How could he have forgotten that?

The realization made his chest tighten with regret. He had no right to say half the things he’d said last night. The harsh words, the accusatory tone—they were driven by his own insecurities, not by any real fault of yours. He had projected his fears onto you, punished you for doing the same thing he had once done, and now you were lying in a hospital bed because of it.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the doctor approaching. “It’s food poisoning,” the doctor said, his voice calm and professional. “She’s been treated, and once she wakes up, she should be fine. It wasn’t anything too serious, but she’ll need some rest.”

Wonwoo exhaled deeply, a rush of relief flooding through him. It wasn’t something worse. You were going to be okay. But still, the weight of guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. He had almost lost you, not just because of the food poisoning, but because of how badly he had handled everything. He realized now that his anger wasn’t truly directed at you—it was at himself, for not being able to keep up, for not being the partner he thought you deserved.

As he waited for you to wake up, Wonwoo made a silent promise to himself: he would fix this. No more insecurities, no more resentment. He would try harder, be more understanding, and give you the space you needed to grow. Because, in the end, all he wanted was for you to be happy—even if it meant stepping aside and letting you thrive.

“Wonwoo...” your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but it snapped him out of his anxious thoughts. He immediately turned to you, his heart skipping as he saw your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation, he dashed to your bedside, his face softening with relief.

“Do you need anything? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

You mumbled, “Water...” and he was quick to get some. As he gently helped you sit up, holding the glass to your lips, the sight of you drinking, of you finally awake, allowed the tension in his chest to ease.

“How do you feel? Is your stomach still killing you?” Wonwoo's voice was full of concern, his eyes searching your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You shook your head slowly, “No, I’m fine now.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s just past lunchtime. You’ve been out for about two hours, baby.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I must’ve scared you when I called this morning.”

Wonwoo shook his head, leaning closer to reassure you. “No, don’t worry about that. Honestly, I’m just relieved you called. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you passed out and I didn’t know.” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying fear that hinted at how much the morning had rattled him.

You nodded, the weight of everything from last night pressing against your chest. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he quickly interrupted.

“No,” you insisted, looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry for last night, and for... all the other times. I made you feel like you were being neglected.”

Wonwoo sighed, lowering his gaze. “It’s not just that. I was being childish. I let my frustration get the better of me. I was wrong, too. I was selfish. I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings that I didn’t stop to think about how hard it must be for you... waiting for me while I was busy all the time.” His voice cracked a little as he finally admitted the guilt he’d been carrying.

You reached for his hand, your touch warm and reassuring. “But still, I shouldn’t have made you feel like I was ignoring you. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just... I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed with work lately, trying to prove myself, trying to manage everything.”

Wonwoo looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. I get it now. And I don’t want you to take anything I said last night to heart. It was just... I was angry, and I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, one that held both forgiveness and exhaustion. Then, with a playful stretch of your arms, you said, “I want a hug.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, and without hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, one that seemed to melt away all the lingering tension between you. It felt right—like this was where you both needed to be after everything.

“Let’s get lunch after this,” Wonwoo murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Anything you want.”

Your ears perked up, and you pulled back just enough to look at him with playful curiosity. “Anything I want?”

Wonwoo chuckled again, his smile soft and full of affection. “Yes, anything you want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before whispering, “I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

As his words sank in, you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for the first time in days, everything felt at peace.

[kindestofkings]

espresso

lando norris x reader

dets: an international pop star and a f1 driver could never be secretly dating right? right?

authors note: this is kinda chaotic but its been still in my drafts since that damn espresso song came out, how is it so good?

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

yourusername

liked by ynfan1 and others

yourusername me laughing at all y'all trying to figure out who my hot songs are about LOOLLLLLL you'll know when I want you to know MWAH xx

melbourne tonight :)))

view all other comments

ynfan1 you are so unhinged I LOVE

charli_xcx just tell them its me !

yourusername you're right sorry wifey xx

ynfan2 wait are they still around??

ynfanupdates wait whats happening in melbourne tonight ???

ynfan3 she's so secretive, I didn't even know she was dating anyone

landonorris

liked by martingarrix and others

landonorris tralia mate

view all other comments

danielricciardo looking fresh mate

landonorris thanks babe xx f1fan1 landos longest relationship right here f1fan2 bahahah for real man is chronically single

oscarpiastri 👍👍

f1fan1 best of luck this weekend !

yourusername just posted to their close friends!

[caption: baby just had a great weekend at the office <3]

replies:

maxfewtrell disgustingly sweet

↳ jealousy is a disease, better get checked out xx

alexalbon ugh you two make me sick

↳ oh yeah and yourself and lily aren't worse 😐

yourusername

liked by martingarrix and others

yourusername missing tour hours, should we do it again??

view all other comments

ynfan1 PLEASE COME BACK

oliviarodrigo you never rest queen

yourusername lol duty calls ynfan1 huh? hasn't she been off for ages ? ynfan3 singers can have other responsibilities you do know that right

ynfan2 I just want to know who you're dating..

ynfanupdates

liked by ynfan1 and others

ynfanupdates yourusername out in monaco tonight !

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ynfan1 huh wonder what has her in monaco? she's there alot recently

ynfan2 looooveee the orange

landofan1

liked by landoupdates and others

landofan1 firstly tell how is a man so hot?? also look at how much he's vibing to yourusername's feather remix??

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landofan1 I could take him (not in a fight)

ynfan1 he is just like me fr

f1fan1 no WAY whats he doing playing yn? 👀

ynfan1 I mean she is one of the biggest pop singers in the world rn f1fan1 orrrrrrrr ynfan2 haha you wish

yourusername oooh whos he ?

landofan1 bahaahahha girl, you are everything I want my popstars to be

yourusername

liked by chapellroan and others

yourusername pookie is away (again) so heres some pics of me looking hot for pookie, and pookie only <3

view all other comments

ynfan1 what boyfriend would ever leave you??

yourusername I know right?? poor me !

chapellroan need a sub ?

yourusername I don't know what you're abbreviating but yes. yes please.

reneerapp god DAMN

(liked by yourusername)

f1fan1 hmmmmmmhmmm away? and theres a grand prix this weekend

lando.jpg

liked by ynfan1 and others

lando.jpg returning the favour x Race weekend was gud

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landofan1 people died.

oscarpiastri such a poser

lando.jpg my lady loves it 🤷 landofan1 IS HE IN A RELATIONSHIP landofan2 since when wtf

f1fan1 I don't even care how delusional I am, he'd be so hot for yourusername

ynfan1 Ikr but they don't even follow each other :((

yourusername just posted to their story!

[caption: pookie has returned <3]

replies:

landonorris I don't know how I feel about pookie...

↳ but POOKIE I love it (and you)

↳ landonorris ugh okay fine (love you too)

charli_xcx this soft launch is mean, and I know who it is

↳ hehehhe lol its SO fun tho

f1fan1 is that papaya ?

yourusername just followed landonorris!

landonorris just followed yourusername!

yourusername

liked by landonorris

yourusername need a pick me up ?

Espresso 4/11 @ 8pm ET,

Music Video 4/12 @ 10:00am ET

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ynfan1 woooo queen is back

ynfan2 LOVE the vibe of this

landofan1 is that the JOLLY ???

landofan2 do we think lando is in the video?? cause thats defo him!

landonorris uber rating ?

yourusername 4 stars out of 5 ! missing star is because you kept making me laugh during filming landonorris always knew being so funny was a double edged sword. georgerussell sorry just confirming, do you think YOU are the funny one? ynfan1 what a random friendship, but so cute

f1fan1 finally followed each other, my delusions don't feel so crazy

landofan1 I would loveee if they became friends

landonorris just added to their close friends!

[caption: we just hard launched via music video and people are thinking FRIEnDshIP ?]

replies:

yourusername babyyyy they're so stupid

↳ told you it's crazy you're dating me..

↳ yourusername UGH no enough of that

danielricardio the landonorizz lore is to deep I'm afraid..

lilyme cons of dating a hottie

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername guys this is my POOKIE! I just hardlaunched my muse, y'all should be blessed !

(last pic is not mine but like look at how he looks at me teehee...)

tagged: landonorris

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landonorris love of my life fuck

ynfan1 damn y'all are in love love aren't you

fan1 this is crazy to me lando and THE pop it girl??

yourusername me and THE lando norris who is a professional hottie and my pookie xx landofan1 ugh im obsessed with you two

ynfan1 you're telling me you've been dating another celebrity for at least 3 years and we've seen ZERO pap pics?

f1fan1 for real tho we would've seen her at a grand prix, theres thousands of cameras landofan1 yeah seems suss yourusername ugh guys !!! why are you making me spell everything out for you landonorris time to cook darling

mclaren finally the parents are insta official

yourusername get hyped to see me at a gp wigless xxx

ynfan1 you wear wigs??

yourusername have you worn wigs?? landonorris will you wear wigs??? ynfan1 omfg I get it now

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris meet my three year pr relationship x

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername yes sorry guys the warming climate is all our fault !! just so fucking hot we cant help it eek

oscarpiastri you two are so unbearable already please go back to being a secret landonorris after 3 years of norizz jokes, I thinkkkk no !

landofan1 THREE yEaRs ???

mclaren wearing papaya off season? oh shes a keeper

ynfan1 heheh admin gets it

danielricciardo rip norizz it was fun while it lasted..

landonorris fun for WHO??

[finished]

hehe im working lateeee, cause I procrastinated doing assignments all day xx

[fhrlclln]

I’ve been living for the Qimir fanfics. Can you write one where reader and him were lovers in the Jedi together, he thought she died, but actually the Jedi wiped her memory. When he bumps into her again he’s FURIOUS but also just happy that she’s alive and tries to get her memory back. Lots of angst but with a happy ending?👀

and here you stand | qimir

SUMMARY -> a man in your dreams feels like a distant memory you cannot seem to touch upon but when a particular meeting with a man in the streets of olega might be the answer to everything.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WC -> 2.85k

a/n: aNONz i hope this fic is what you requested for!!! i tried my best with the angst 😩🤌

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the dream always started out softly...

a glimpse of a man with short black hair, dawning a padawan braid, smiling and laughing with you in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant. he’d always kissed you and for a moment in the dream, you could feel his hands gently caress your cheek and see the loving gaze of his eyes on you. but the dream was always somewhat blurry... you can't remember the young man's face but his laughter, his love you feel is everything to you. it was comforting, it felt like home but the moment his laughter ends, the dream did as well.

and you wake up with a longing feeling stuck in your chest.

you'd try to remember your times as a former jedi, a former padawan in your time in coruscant. hoping you could somehow remember the man in your dreams, for it felt it was a distant memory than a dream but it always ended up with no avail. it was painful enough that you missed being back in coruscant and to reoccur those memories again in hopes of remembering who the man in your dreams makes it even more painful.

that's until you had just given up at some point on remembering him.

you now reside in a humble planet called olega. the city was large enough for you to explore it in your first days of living there. you opened up a merchant stall, selling the local fruits and vegetables for consumption. leaving the order was a tough decision the council had made upon you, you were a gifted student, gifted with the force. it was strong within you but alas, you failed, you could not somehow learn to control your own self- your own emotions. you can't remember why back then and it haunts you to this day of your failure as a jedi.

but that didn't matter now.

your quiet life of being a merchant had its perks. you were not bound by an order anymore. there were no more responsibilities and expectations placed upon you. you didn't need to train every single day- but sometimes you missed your training lessons. you did miss your former master and padawans, for they were the second family to you. even if it was told that at that time, familial or romantic feelings were forbidden, you still saw them like that.

granted, it was hard to fall back into the normal routine of an everyday civilian. you had been with the order since you were a child. you still would close off your emotions from time to time with the people you grew to know with in olega, but you got the hang of it eventually in the years of living here. but sometimes you wished to go back to coruscant, hoping if you'd visit the gardens and the great tree, you might remember the man in your dreams.

but here you are, standing behind your stall as you packaged the fresh fruits for a customer. you handed to them with a smile on your face and humbly accepted their credits. you sigh, sitting on your stool as you counted your savings to see if it would cover the rent you have to pay for this month. it was enough, your stall was popular in demand because of how fresh your picks was and you were grateful for that. you stand up again, noticing that you had to close now, seeing that almost all your merchandise was sold.

"closing off early again?" the cheery voice of your fellow merchant quips. you laugh, shrugging as you started packing away.

"i am!" you chuckled, checking if everything is in place before you could leave. you adjusted your satchel as you put on your hood, bidding your fellow merchants a kind goodbye as you went off.

a hot meal would be nice, you think to yourself, before you'd head home. walking through a crowd, you squeeze yourself in as you excused yourself to get by. the heart of the plaza certainly was always full of people at this time. for a moment, a watchful feeling washed over your senses as you look up ahead.

your eyes meet with a man’s. his black hair is slightly disheveled and greasy and the way his eyes were set upon you made you confused for a moment how hard his stare was. you look away, getting out of the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you walk away quickly.

qimir stands still in the middle of the plaza, his heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. it couldn't be you. he doesn't know if the glimpse of you in the crowd was a mere apparition of the force but the way you looked at him had him thinking otherwise. you disappear from the crowd and he is hot on his feet to catch up to you.

he watches you go into an alley way, he follows in-suit, thinking that you’re trying to escape him. his nostrils flare, his agenda for today to go to the local apothecary is out of his plans as he follows you.

he watched you die.

he was sure of it, that memory of you of pushing him into his own ship whilst you stand guard to help him buy him some time to get out of coruscant never left his mind. it haunted him until he lives and breaths and it enraged him that you foolishly given your life for him to flee before his own former master would have killed him.

you were supposed to be together, right?

he thinks bitterly as he squeezes in the alley way. a lot of questions pop in his mind, were you still with the jedi after all you and him have suffered through because of them? that you willingly stayed? that you faked your own death just to leave him? those thoughts made him feel betrayed. you were his light when he was in the darkness. you were the one that understood him despite your refusal to let yourself be seduced by the dark path. he understood you as well yet he hoped that you would see truth that what the jedi do is all a lie.

he quickens his steps and your figure is starting to inch closer to him. he immediately reaches out to grab your arm and push you towards the wall making you gasp as you struggled in his tight death grip as he cages you with his whole body before you could defend yourself.

“let go!” you yelled at him as he ignored your angry yelps as you tried to get out of his grip. he merely stares down at you as you looked up at him. he observes, waiting if an emotion of guilt would cross your face… but there was none? only confusion and annoyance were plastered across your face. and he somehow indulges in your close distance, the feeling of you in front him again has him weak. here you are, warm and smelling the same after years since he had fallen into a rabbit hole of revenge and hatred for the jedi that he thought they killed you.

“i said-“ you weakly tried to pry him off you. your heart was beating so loudly, fearing what this unknown man would do to you. you wished for a moment that the force could help you. he was much stronger, you could tell, even if he looked like a twig underneath his robes. “-let go!”

“you… you’re supposed to be dead.” he breaks his silence. your brows raised with confusion. dead? you wonder if this man was crazy for thinking of you like that. not once did you remember angering any person here for this kind of response.

“i’m standing right here, buddy.” you roll your eyes as he lessens his grip on your arm. and here you do stand, qimir thinks. you relax for a bit as the hard stare he gives you softens slightly. something in him tells him that you don’t even recognize him. and that makes him worried.

“do you know me?” he tests his theory, hoping it was not true. you know him, you would never forget about him.

you two were your other halves of each other’s body, soul and mind, never to be separated even if the cosmos were in between you two. you would always find each other in the end. even in death, you were his other soul, the half of his battered and broken heart. he knows you vow the same as he heard those vows underneath the great tree in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant.

i will never forget you. as you had said to him when his lips last touch yours before you threw him into his ship, leaving him in agony seeing you turn on your saber before his master slashes you with her saber.

i love you, qimir.

he blinks wetly. there’s a hollow feeling inside his chest when he sees that you don’t genuinely recognize him the slightest bit.

“…no? no, i don’t know you. look, sir, if you have any problem with me or you want money, i have some credits-“

“what i want is for you to tell me the truth.” he cuts you off, wondering if you were lying as he tries to peer into your mind. he feels furious, furious that you are acting like this but the desperation… the desperation of trying to see you at least recognize him is taking over. you feel the hum of the force, so familiar even if it had been years since you trained. but it wasn’t just that, his force felt familiar.

“…you wield the force.” you say as your eyes widened when you feel him try to pry in your mind. an instinct in you erupts as you somehow managed to surprise him by grabbing him by his arm and the collar of his robe then pushed him into the wall that you were pressed against, making the roles reverse. qimir lets you do that as he looks down at you, a sadness in his eyes as he realizes that you don’t remember him.

what happened to you?

“you don’t remember me…” he whispers, defeated. he grips your wrist gently as a congested look of hurt is across his face.

“and you know me?” you ask, somehow feeling like he knows you more intimately than you had expected. confusion is breaking your calm mind, it frightens you that somehow you feel like what he’s saying is so close to the truth but you can’t discern it clearly. you know nothing of him. you let him go and qimir almost wobbled in his knees when your touch is gone.

he nods and your chest suddenly hurts. you back away, frightened and confused, it was overwhelming that you feel for him but don’t remember him. before qimir could utter anything else, you walk away. he watches you go, sensing that something was wrong. something had been wiped away in your mind with the memories of him and he feels lost. the one person that had stayed with him throughout his grievances and frustrations, the one good person he thought dead and the one woman he loved doesn’t remember him.

he’ll have to talk to you again when he wills himself.

・゜゜・．

it had been days since you last saw that strange man and your dreams have been getting even more vivid.

it was scaring you.

remembering the look in his eyes, you saw that he did in fact know you. but you don’t know him. sometimes when you wake up now after dreaming of that young man in your dreams, it felt like something in you was lost. and that your mind was actively trying to remember, trying to hold on what was missing but it always fails. and it leaves you feeling so lost and confused.

you sit by your bed now. you haven’t started your day like the usual. you felt sick, nauseous and incredibly exhausted of trying to will yourself to remember that strange man. his touch felt familiar when you remember it, his voice was somehow a comfort and his gaze… you know you would be in trance with those dark eyes of his that spoke of tenderness.

your eyes felt heavy as the sun peaks through the blinds of your windows. you sigh, weakly trying to get up. you felt you were about to fall back onto your bed again until a knock on your door surprises you. you freeze, the knocks then grew more louder and you sighed, thinking it was your landlord as you get up, wrapping your cloak around you.

you push the red button on the control panel as the sound of your door swiftly opening doesn’t ready you for him to be standing by your doorstep. you freeze, seeing that he’s dressed in another way-too-huge robes on him. he looks at you for a moment, taking in your face of confusion.

“i just want to talk.” he pleads and you stay frozen in your spot for a moment, wondering if you want to talk with him. but deep inside, your heart is telling you yes as it beats loudly.

“okay.” you say quietly as you let him in. qimir relaxes as you close the door once he crosses the threshold and he stands inside your small apartment.

“how long have you been living here?” he asks, looking around the place. “in olega… i mean.”

“seven… eight years, i think?” you answer as best as you can. “i stayed in coruscant for a couple of months before moving here.”

“why?” he asks further, confused.

“i left the jedi… i used to be a jedi.” you shrug. “it was the council’s decision why i couldn’t continue my training.”

“because?”

“…i- because they said i didn’t control my self, my emotions.” you sighed, not liking that you were telling this stranger of your failure. a stranger that you somehow know. you remind yourself.

“and you’re sure the council had told you that was their true reasons for letting you go?” he faces you, understanding bit by bit what happened to you. "they lied."

“why do you ask me? are you a jedi or was- as well?” you ask him now.

“i was.” he nods bitterly.

you blink. “then how do you know me?”

“we were…” he starts, finding his words to try and let this information on you easily. your memories were wiped as far as he could tell. he thinks that vernestra orchestrated to do this to you when they had disarmed you at some point after he had escaped. for it was to conceal those outside the jedi order of his existence and that it may put them in a political disaster. he scoffs at that in his mind. he wills himself not to go to the local jedi temple and slaughter master torbin himself for this, out of spite he’ll kill them all in there.

“you and i, we shared a bond.” he softly says as he nears you and you let him. “a bond that the order told us that it was forbidden.”

you blink, understanding what he meant. did the jedi lied to you? you think, feeling betrayed by the order that you had respected could do this to you. his soft gaze felt familiar and you reel in to his gentle voice. qimir’s chest filled with hope seeing you slowly start to understand him even though you still don’t know him.

“i am yours.” he takes your hand to his, placing it above his chest. “and you are mine.”

“and together…” those words leave your lips without even you registering it for a moment as he presses his forehead against yours. you shudder, your eyes welling up with tears, feeling overwhelmed as this felt like the scene in your dreams. this man was the young man in your dreams. you realized, why you somehow feel like you know him.

vows in the gardens, whispering it underneath the great tree. two padawans’ hearts beating with one another and the sweet song of love fills their chests as they become one. bound to eternity forever.

“we are bound to each other forever.” he finishes as he wipes the tears streaming down your face.

“i want to remember you…” you sobbed, your own chest hurting for not remembering him. this man that you had just met days ago but felt like you’ve known him forever. qimir smiles sadly as he pulls you into his arms. you cried on his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around you.

you don’t even know his name and it breaks your heart again.

“i’ll help you remember. we found each other again.” he vows and promises he’ll make you remember. his own eyes wetting with his tears as he nuzzles his face on your soft hair and he whispers. “i promise.”

but all that matters now is that you are with him at last.

[apocalypseornaw]

What's Mine

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you

The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.

“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.

“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”

You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.

“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.

You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”

Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.

You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?

You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.

You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.

—--------------

Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?

He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.

He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”

—-------------

After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.

When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.

The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”

You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.

“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”

—------------

Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.

He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”

The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”

—-----------------

What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.

You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.

“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.

Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”

You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.

He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.

You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”

Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”

You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.

You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”

The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.

—-------------

You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.

“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”

He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”

He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”

—--------------

He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”

His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.

“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.

He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.

—--------------

You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.

Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”

He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.

“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.

Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.

—------------

You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.

Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”

His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.

He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.

—----------------

He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.

After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”

You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”

[zevrra]

hi! jayce x reader where she (or they whatever) is working in the lab w him and the experiment goes a little haywire, getting her hurt? please make my man as pathetic wet dog guilty as possible bonus points if you mention the beard please thank you

includes: [fluff!] something goes wrong in the lab and jayce feels really bad about it!

ft. jayce x gn!reader

extra(s): i hope i wrote jayce pathetic enough for you anon!! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it!! (also i love the beard and will take every chance i can to mention it KSHSKH jayce is SO FIONE)

you had wanted to surprise your lover, jayce talis, so you showed up to the lab with some lunch for the two of you. he hadn’t expected you and was so happy to see you. soot covers the side of his cheek as he wears his cute little goggles, hair a mess as he turns his back on his latest project to greet you.

“baby!” jayce chirps happily. his hands find your waist as he settles to stand before you, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips.

you smile and roll your eyes at your goofy boyfriend. moving his goggles out of the way before kissing him back. “thought i’d drop by with some food. is that okay?” you ask as jayce wraps you up in a hug. you move your thumb across his face, wiping away as much dirt as you can with a furrowed brow; it was never easy cleaning his face with his beard now. “maybe you should shave?” you tease him with a soft laugh, wiping your hand across his lab coat.

jayce pouts at your words, running a hand along his bearded chin. “what, you don’t like it?” he asks with a lifted eyebrow before shaking his head to get back onto the topic of food. “anyway, you have perfect timing actually! i could use your help with this…thing while we eat.” jayce sighs as he gestures towards the project he’s probably been slumped over for too long; hence the length of his beard. you smile as he joyfully takes the food you offer him before moving back to the lab’s desk while dragging you along with him. “i just don’t know what i’m missing.” he mutters as he takes a bite out of the snack you’ve brought him, leaning against the desk. his eyes glance from his notes, to whatever hex project he’s got sitting on his desk, before looking over at you.

you settle in beside jayce with a smile as you reach to pick through his notes. your eyes scanning over his messy handwriting as thoroughly as you can while jayce rests a heavy hand on your waist, needing to keep you close at all times when it’s just the two of you. something you dearly loved about the man. “have you tried upping the voltage?” you ask as you read through the notes; to which jayce nods in response, mouth clearly full. “what about switching the plus and minus here around?”

jayce stops his snacking for a minute, clearly thinking about your proposal, as he considers the option. he sets his lunch down and turns around to face the notes in your hand, reading over where you point to. “no but…here, i think channeling energy here instead might work!” jayce states with a newfound confidence, slipping his goggles back on as he fully turns to the hex project.

and then it all happens so fast.

seconds within jayce toying with the rune, an explosion sets off. the light blue shimmer of magic raises every hair on your body; and it sends a cold, dreadful shiver down your spine. you barely have time to react to get away but luckily, jayce does. his hands are grabbing your body, yanking you away while turning his back towards the explosion, pulling you entirely into his chest to cover you from the blast. thankfully, by some miracle, before the “big boom” the rune fizzles out and dies, and only a very small shockwave shatters some nearby glass; leaving you and jayce intact but shaken up.

after it quiets down, you manage to peel your face off of jayce’s shoulder and look around. his desk is a mess, notes mixed with broken glass lay all over the floor— meanwhile smoke rolls silently around the project. jayce, suddenly realizing that he and you were both, in fact, still alive, gasps, squeezing you a little tighter before barely pulling inches away.

“oh gods,” jayce mutters as he quickly scans over your face. he pulls you gently further away from the blast, hands roaming your entire body to inspect you before caressing the side of your face. his thumb wipes gently along your face as he inspects a cut you didn’t know you had. “shit!” he curses under his breath, hazel eyes full of agony and sorrow as he looks at the wound inflicted upon you. “are you ok? does it hurt anywhere else?”

your heart beats hard in your chest but you shake your head at his question, still in shock from moments ago but relatively you’re physically okay. your hand slightly trembles as you manage to reach up and touch where his hand gently caresses you, feeling the sticky of your blood from your open cut. it stings, pretty good, but not deep enough to need any kind of stitch work. jayce holds your face dearly in his hands as his eyes fill up with tears. “i’m so sorry. my god i could’ve killed you.” jayce practically sobs as both of his hands hold your face gently now, pressing his forehead against your own. “i’m so sorry love. please forgive me.” he mutters, defeated as he holds you.

you take a deep breath in, hold it for a second, then release it; squeezing jayce’s hand gently. “jay, it’s not your fault. please, are you okay?” you whisper in a worried tone, pulling away just enough to look at him.

“i don’t care about me!” he responds with a tremble to his voice; seemingly biting back his sobs.

you shake your head, giving his hand one more squeeze. “well, i care. now come here.” you frown before taking a step back and dragging him along with you. without struggle, he let’s you lead him further away from “ground zero” and finally allows you to check him out now. and thankfully jayce has only suffered a few small cuts to the long coat he wears. and if it weren’t for that damned lab coat he wore, things could've been a lot worse. “you’re okay.” you sigh with relief, smoothing your hand across his jaw and neck. “no serious bleeding or any open wounds that i can see.” you add with a soft smile.

but his eyes continue to tell you how upset he is. unhappy at all about the injury on your face but he remains unscathed. he can barely look at you; and when he does, he stares at the scratch along your cheek. “i can’t believe i got you hurt.” jayce says, drooping like a wilted flower as he looks up at you through his eyelashes as he sits down in a cleaner area.

“jayce, darling, you didn’t do anything. you can’t control the uncontrollable.” you hum softly, taking his face into your hands as he settles himself down. and at your touch he melts into your palm, puppy dog eyes staring up at you as one of his big hands covers over one of your hands.

“i am so sorry.” jayce mumbles with a sad pout.

you frown a little, pouting, as you move the flat of your palms across his beard, scratching his face just a little as you try and will his self blame away. “maybe this beard is just bad luck.” you grumble but the tease manages to get jayce to crack the tiniest smile. you chuckle as his face softens in your hands. turning his lips to kiss the inside of your palm.

“ha, nice try. i’m not shaving.” jayce teases with a smile he hides behind your hand. you mirror his smirk as he pulls you down to him, pressing his lips into yours in a tender kiss.

yeah. you two were going to be okay.

[nyxiswrites1200]

🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

[aquarelliwrites]

Saturdays

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: He sleeps like the dead, but at least he's pretty while doing it?

CONTENTS: Fluff, use of you/yours, no use of Y/N, entirely self-indulgent

wc: 536

A ray of sunshine in your eyes is what wakes you up.

It's one of the rare days when both Oscar and you are free of obligations. One of the rare days when you wake up before him, and get to revel a little in the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him; the feeling of his legs tangled with yours underneath soft blankets; the feeling of his face buried in the curve connecting your neck and shoulder, fanning it with small breaths.

You allow yourself to drift between consciousness and the abyss for a while longer.

„Osc.“ You whisper – and get no response. The man – your darling sweetheart, the light of your life, really – continues sleeping like he's a rock or perhaps a log. Repeating yourself a little more loudly gets you nothing more than a hum. „I need to get up.“

He replies this time, says something, surely, and the vibration of his voice against your skin spreads like wildfire all over your body. He is also, unfortunately, entirely incomprehensible.

„What?“ You laugh.

„What th' hell d'you need to get up for?“ The vice-like grip on you doesn't loosen as you hoped it would.

„Um, the bathroom?“

He groans and lets go of you, acting like it's the most effort he's ever had to put into any task, ever. You laugh, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before getting up.

„Oh, do that again.“ The corners of his lips tilt upwards with the plea. You can't help but oblige.

 When you return, you pause in the doorway to admire the way he managed to take up the entirety of the bed. The way his torso rises and falls rhythmically under the covers. The way his shoulders look – you could spend an eternity just gazing at the way the muscles in his back move. The way he's sleeping with his face in the crook of his elbow, hiding away from the sun.

He feels the mattress dip and moves his head ever so slightly to look at you, even if he therefore must endure the Sun's corona behind you. „S'too early, darling,“ he croaks, and you laugh softly before leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades.

„You're right.“ And you lay back down with that, arm thrown over him in a looser cuddle than he had you in minutes ago. He revels in the warmth of your palm on his bare skin, in the dance of your fingertips all over his back, in the quiet that blankets you both for a little while.

„I say this too much, but I really love you,“ he whispers, mind on the edge of sleep.

„You could never say it too much. I really love you too, you know.“

„I know, you're so good to me.“ The visible part of his face is smiling again.

„Your standards are low, then,“ you tease, messing up his hair.

He looks seriously offended for a moment. Or about as offended as he can look while he drifts off. „How dare you say that about my girlfriend?“

You breathe a little laugh again, and your pointer finger draws a heart on his spine.

hey, sorry that I died for nearly 2 months? go for broke is still being worked on but I think I want to go in a slightly different direction with that than I originally thought, so that's going to be A While. alas we live i suppose