#i don’t read it!! and i don’t shit on people who do read or write it!!

[vintagepresley]

I’m almost done with it. I’ll be honest.. I only read this book because Cooper Koch loves this book and way how beautiful it is and he may be playing Jude if they actually decide to make a movie about it which I heard is possibly happening. So I’m like hmmm he keeps talking about this book and the cover caught my eye. I did a little research on it and saw a lot… ALOT of people hated it. But I just took that as people on TikTok being dramatic as always.

This book is so traumatic, tragic, painful, sad and had my emotions everywhere. I’ve never cried so much reading a book. Then I decided to see what everyone thought of it on TikTok and just doing research. I’m seeing everyone call it trauma porn and all these other things. I’ll be honest. Would I classify this book as beautiful? No. Do I understand why people describe it that way? Definitely. But it’s not beautiful to me. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s a wonderfully written book and the story and how it’s told is phenomenal. But it’s so tragic that I can’t define it as beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or the characters. Thinking about it makes me cry.

But I don’t hate it? I think the reason why is because there are so many people out there going through what Jude had experienced and what he was experiencing with the aftermath of those things in his adulthood. Now I’m not saying these exact scenarios are happening to people. But these things do happen. The child prostitution, the child sexual abuse, physical abuse. Rape. How people deal with it, I feel sometimes is similar to how Jude was dealing with it. Refusing to see a therapist, the cutting, thinking he’s not good enough or doesn’t deserve love because he thinks he’s disgusting or that people think he is. Not being able to open up because of the fear of people seeing you differently. His difficulties with sex and his relationships with the people around him. All of that I think is what made me emotional because all I could think about is the people out there who are or who have been through this. Then myself being a victim of sexual abuse.

I think that’s what made it hard for me to hate it. Because once I saw everyone hating it.. I’m like why? This is stuff that’s happening to people. Stuff that people are dealing with and we don’t even know it because some people are afraid to talk about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why people DO hate it. It’s fucking wild to write as a book. Like who the fuck thinks of shit like this??? I also don’t agree with the authors opinions about how someone as traumatized as Jude should kill themselves and how she doesn’t really believe in therapy. That I think is the most ridiculous thing I heard. Therapy works if you allow it to work and you allow yourself to be open and vulnerable. Suicide doesn’t need to be the answer and a lot of times therapy has saved someone’s life. So the author I don’t really like. Cause girl what… I also don’t agree with this becoming a movie. No one wants to see this on film, it’s hard enough reading about it. I love Cooper Koch and I think he’d make a great Jude especially after seeing him as Erik Menendez. But I don’t want a movie about this book. WE DONT NEED THAT.

[gojos-version]

Consume me.

Pairings- Y/N x Mafia Au! Sukuna

Summary- You're the daughter of a famous mafia boss and your dad wants to cooperate with Sukuna and make a deal, you hate Sukuna. You’re about to make his life a living hell.

Warnings- y/n being bratty and a bad bitch, brat taming, unprotected sex, breeding, tummy bulge (per usual), masturbation, blood and death mentioned (not in detail or much)

Word count- 8k

Proof read- ✅

A/n- Omg this took me so long because ive been so busy and i knew it was gonna be such a long fic, but i hope this tickles your pickle :3 Have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

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Sukuna. That name brought fear to many people. He was a well-known Mafia boss, he lived by his rules, he didn't like something? It was fixed immediately. He doesn't like someone, or someone messes up? They’re dead. He’s a very fierce man and its risky that even right now your father wants to make a deal with him, to get more respect he says. 

Sukuna was the one person you had the least respect for, he was cruel and heartless, and you'd prefer to avoid him at all costs if you could. His face was covered in tattoos and so was the rest of his body, he had piercings and honestly he was intimidating. But… he also made you feel things you shouldn’t be feeling. Maybe it was the way he carried himself that you found attractive? You weren’t sure but you hate him. Your dad was a big mafia boss but not as big as Sukuna, his business was huge.

Knock knock.

Your head perks up from your book; “Yes?”, your dad’s assistant opens the door; “Your father requests to speak with you.”, “Alright I’ll be down.” With that she nods her head and closes the door. You sigh and twist your body to slide off your bed, slipping your slippers on you open the door and walk down the stairs to your dad’s office. You knock on the door and he shouts a ‘Come in!’ And you do, when you open the door you did not except to see a tall man with pink hair, tattoos and in a black suit sitting in front of your dad.

Sukuna?? Why the fuck was he here. Your heart drops and you swallow thickly, he shoots you a smirk that makes your blood boils. “What is it that you wanted, father?”, “Take a seat, I want to talk to you about a few things. Including our guest, don’t be rude, Y/n.”, “I don’t see why we have to discuss things in front of our guest. Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You cross your arms, leaning back on the door. “Oh don’t mind me.” Sukunas deep voice rings out and you glare at him, “Who said you were apart of this conversation?”, “Ohhoho! Quite the mouth on you!” He laughs, leaning back in his chair and your dad’s expression becomes stern, “Y/n. What did I say.”, your eye twitches with annoyance and you scoff; “I’d rather talk in private, dad.”

Your dad sighs in annoyance and Sukuna grins, laying back more in his chair. “Like I said, don’t mind me sweetheart.” You huff, “Let me guess, we’re working with Sukuna now?”, “Yes, so I hope you’ll be nice a- “, “Greatttttt!” You say with fake enthusiasm, and you see Sukuna's jaw clench. Ha. Y/n 1 Sukuna 0. You turn to walk out and freeze feeling a strong presence behind you and a large hand on your shoulder, “Listen brat, you don’t want to piss me off. If you keep provoking me, I can and I will destroy your father’s corporation. You don’t want that now do you?”, Sukuna's deep voice whispers into your ear and you shiver.

“Of course you would, you have no heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a robot. You wouldn’t do shit to us.” You sneered back, yeah it was risky but how dare a man try to speak you down and threaten you? Excuse him?? Sukuna chuckles darkly, “A robot huh? Li- “, “Y/n apologize to our guest right now.” Your dad cuts Sukuna off (without knowing what he was saying), saying nothing you shrug off Sukuna's shoulder and open the door, shutting it harshly behind you and going back to your room.

You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling and sighing softly. You really hope Sukuna isn’t around much. You were hoping to avoid him as much as possible, any interaction with him made your blood boil and your thighs squish together. You hated him and you hated how he made your body tingle. You hated how turned on you got by his stupid face and how curious you were of him. You wanted more, you wanted to know more, why was he stoic? What’s really under that tough demeanor? That heartless man. Why was he heartless? You ached to know more but you couldn’t fucking stand him. You really didn’t like him. No matter what your body felt you really really didn’t like him.

Ding!

A text message? From who?

Dad <3 - Y/n, Sukuna will be around a lot, so you better behave and be nice. He’s doing good for us, I expect to hear that you apologized before tonight, no arguments.

You grunt and close your phone, turning to your side. Maybe you’ll go out tonight. Yeah. That's a good idea. You send a message to your group chat asking to hang out at a bar and before you know it they reply with a “Let’s get shitfaced girls!”, you chuckle and slide off your bed; to your wardrobe. You could be sexy, slutty or modest. You hum to yourself; it wouldn’t hurt to be a mix of sexy and slutty tonight. It’d be nice to get laid; especially after today. You decide on a dark red dress, it stopped mid-thigh and showed just the right amount of cleavage and hugged your curves juustt right. You slip on a black leather jacket, tights and black boots, opting for a red bag to balance it out. You do your hair and makeup and smile at the mirror. You felt good. You looked good.

As you open the door and walk down the steps you did not expect Sukuna to still be here. At the dining table??? You try to sneak past them; hoping they wouldn’t notice you. “And where might you be going?” A dark voice rings out. That annoying deep voice. That belonged to that stupid pink haired man with tattoos. “It’s none of your business I’m afraid.” You reply coolly, “Y/n. I told you to be nice.” Your dad scolds, “Dad, I’m going out.” Your dad glares at you and you simply walk off, tired of the conversation; you ignore the loud shouts of your name and sigh as you walk out the door. You drag your feet into your car, telling your driver where to take you.

You swallow thickly and bundle your skirt into your clenched hands, sighing in frustration. You pick your phone up to see your best friend; Shoko calling you. "Shoko! Hey girl.", "Y/n how far are you?? Please, Satoru's annoying me." She whines into the phone, and you bark out a laugh; "I just left. Dad was being difficult. I should be there very soon." You reassure her and she grumbles a 'Hurry up before I kill him' before hanging up.

You smile in contentment lean your head against the window; looking out in the distance while your driver takes you to the bar. You honestly thought it'd be just the 'girls' but it seems Satoru and Suguru weaved their way into yours, Shoko and Utahime's plans. more company the better honestly.

Before you know it, the cars stopped Infront of the club; "Miss do you want me to escort you?", your driver asks and you shake your head; "It's alright, I'll message you if I need anything and when I want to be picked up." Thats the last thing you say before sliding out of the car and feeling the cool air kiss your warm skin.

Ouch the weather wasn't as nice as you thought it was. You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk into the club, instantly the smell of sweat, lust and alcohol fill your senses. Yeah, you're definitely going to need a drink. As you walk towards the bar you instantly spot Shoko, Utahime and Satoru drunk off their minds dancing around and Suguru sitting on the bar and drinking.

"Long time no see." You greet sitting next to him, "You finally made it. These idiots got drunk so quickly.", "I can tell. How have you been though, Suguru?" You say as you order a drink, leaning your back against the counter and crossing a leg over the other having your elbows resting on the counter behind you.

"Not too bad, it's been hectic because works been stressful.", "Thats rough, work sucks." You sympathize; "How about you? Any life updates?" He asks laughing softly at the others dancing their asses off. Man, it was going to be a long night. "Terrible. My dad made a deal with Sukuna and for some reason he's around my house. a lot.", Suguru almost spits out his drink in surprise, "Shit what!? You're kidding.", "I wish I was. doesn't help he keeps talking to me too." You sip your drink, frowning at the memory.

"Doesn't... Sukuna like not talk to his client's kids or anything? Doesn't he just keep it strict and just talk to let's say just your dad in this situation. Usually, he stays at his own abode too." He ponders and your blood runs cold. wait. he's right. "Wait why would he be interested in me...? How the fuck do I get out of this mess? Shit Suguru what do I do." You panic and scull your drink.

"Don't worry, I think it's a good thing he's taken a liking to you. if he didn't, he'd probably would've killed you already." He reassures you and sigh. "I don't even want to be involved with him." Suguru nods his head in understanding, before he could respond though a drunk Shoko and Satoru run over to you; having finally noticed your arrival.

"You're here!!! Girl, I've missed you!!" Shoko exclaims, a bit too loudly for your liking and throws her arms around you; practically sitting on your lap. "Y/N!! Hi!!!!!!" Well. that makes both Satoru and Shoko smothering you. "Hey guys, kind of can't breathe right now with both of you squishing me." You laugh out but nevertheless hug them back.

"What tookkk you sooo loonnggg!" Satoru slurs out taking his drink from before and sculling the entire thing. "Girl shit." You respond, "You do not need to drink more." Suguru scolds taking the now empty glass away from him and Satoru pouts and complains in response.

"Giirrrllll any new news???? Any dick you're getting???" Shoko slurs in your ear; still over you. "I'll tell you when you're sober, girl", "NO tell me noooowwwwww", you sigh knowing she won't give up. "Dad made a deal with Sukuna." as soon as those words left your mouth she jumps back in shock and falls on the ground.

"Are you ok-", "NO WAY THE SUKUNA???", "Shhhh!!!" Thank God everyone was too drunk to give a shit. You help her up and drown another drink. you really want to get shitfaced tonight.

Few drinks later <3

You don't know when you started dancing with a random guy. you don't know who he is or what his name is. all you know is everything's blurry and dizzy and you're having the best time of your life. Your arms wrap around his neck and your lips are a bit too close to his. He slurs something drunkenly and you faintly make out the words must've been a 'you're so beautiful'. Your lips unconsciously lean towards his, both of you breathing heavily against each other. Before he can lean in and take your lips on his, a loud bang! fills your ears. wait. Where did his head go?

You look down at your clothes and they're covered in... blood...? What...? You freeze as everyone around you starts screaming and running out of the club, the guys now limp headless body falls at your feet, and you don't know how to react. when it all processes you feel adrenaline rush through your veins.

Where are your friends? You shakily walk towards the exit and see a familiar pink hair, tattooed tall man. Wait a minute... is that...? You blink a few times and he's gone. "Y/n!! Are you okay??" You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder, you turn to him and see Shoko and Satoru hanging off him, Utahime was hanging off of Shoko.

You wordlessly nod your head and your drivers here? Didn't you say you'd text him when you're ready?? You open the door and motion for Suguru to put the others in the car, you help him put your friends in the backseats. You sit in the front seat next to your driver; "I didn't tell you to pick me up. But please take my friends to their houses." You manage to utter out.

He nods and the car starts going on its journey. You can't stop thinking that murder had to have been from Sukuna. but why? Why would he murder the guy you were dancing with. Why did he even care?? A "Miss, drink some water to sober up." Cuts you out of your thoughts. It was hard to focus on everything with how much alcohol you took in. But you drank as much water as you could. After drinking your water, you head rests against the head rest, and you shut your eyes briefly.

Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You blearily blink your eyes open, trying to adjust to the sunlight pouring through your room. What time was it? How did you end up...in your bed...? Maybe your driver put you in your bed. You shrug it off and slowly sit up. Fuck your head hurt. You didn't have enough water in time. Your head was throbbing as you turned your head to look at your nightstand. Water and pain killers? I mean that's thoughtful, but no one really does that for you. then again you don't usually pass out in the car.

You took the painkillers and drank the water, putting your slippers on and robe as you slowly made your way towards the door. You just realized. someone was murdered in front of you yesterday. Wait when the fuck were you in your PJ's? And the blood from your face and body is gone??

Your heart races for a minute and you try to shrug it off as maybe you didn't remember getting changed or one of the female maids did it for you while you were sleeping. Right...? You open the door and slowly make your way down the steps towards the kitchen. Coffee. And water. Thats what you need right now. you fixed your hair and by the time you reached the bottom of the stairs; There was your dad and of course Sukuna. Sukuna. Why was he here?

"Mornin' Princess, Woke up late today, huh?" Ugh that stupid annoying deep voice. it fills your head, and you ignore him, walking past him and filling a cup of water, drowning it and filling it up again. "Y/n. I told you not to be ru-", "Nah its fine. She looks hungover.", "So that's where she went huh."

Come on brain. Remember. Right, Pink hair and tattoos and a dead guy. Yep. Common duo. "Sukuna, you did that last night, didn't you?" You deadpan, turning around and leaning your lower back against the counter, water in your hand, sipping and waiting for a response.

He looks shocked for a split second but covers it up quickly, "Oh? Where?" His head leans to the side giving you a look of 'I dare you to continue'. You smirk, walking closer to him. "The man you murdered at the club. Infront of me. What was that about, hm? Got jealous I gave someone else my attention and not you?" You dad stays silent, flabbergasted and oh Sukuna just glares at you.

"Why would I be jealous?", "You're not denying you murdered a guy at the club last night." You slam your hand down in front of him on the table and lean your face close to his, and your breasts right in his field of view. His eyes flicker from them to your face a few times, "You just happened to distract my target.", "Oh? I did a background check on the people at the club on my way there. He was a normal citizen." Your face gets closer to his and you're smirking, eyes narrowed as you egg him on.

Fuck does he look pissed off right now. But...there's another emotion you can see in his eyes, but you can't pinpoint it. Is it surprise? Intrigue? Lust? Who knows. You had him cornered both physically and mentally right now and he honestly had no option but to confess.

"Come on Ryomen. Give us the truth." You whisper in his ear, "You-" He seethes, and you cut him off by barking out a loud laugh, his hands were gripping the arm rests of his seat. How amusing. Without another word you trot off with a slight sway in your hips. You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head while you did walk off.

Time skip <3

You're laying on your bed listening to music while writing in your diary, ranting about Sukuna and other random things. It's 9pm before you know it. Maybe you'll just stay in tonight and have a self-care day. yeah. that sounds pretty good. you shut your diary and shove it under your pillow, going to the bathroom and running a bath.

You get your necessities and sit on the sink while the bath fills up. What you didn't know however was that Sukuna went in your room, wanting to give you a rough talking to; to find you not in your room. He hums and looks around, taking it in. your pillow messily placed catches his eyes and he lifts it to see your diary.

His brows furrow as he opens the book. 'Maybe she writes stories or draws? Why do I even care.' As he flicks through it, he sees his name written. hm? What's this? A smirk makes way on his face as he takes your diary and leaves your room, making sure everything was as you left it.

You sink into the bath you set and shut your eyes at the warm sensation. what should you do about him? There's no way he has to be over this much for a business deal. Maybe you're overthinking it too much. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, enjoying your soak in the bath. Hopefully tomorrow you'll be given a job to do.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open and it's still dark outside? You twist your body and slide off the bed, slipping your robe on and your slippers. 5:30am. Great. You walk towards the kitchen and notice someone…sitting? On the table with their feet up?? Who on earth was up at this time of night???? When you get a bit closer you notice the familiar pink hair and tattoos. Ugh. Why the hell was Sukuna here and awake at 5 in the damn morning. “Why are you here at 5 in the morning?” Your soft voice rings out making him look up from what he was reading. “Why are you up at 5 in the morning?” He sasses back and your eye twitches in frustration. “I live here, and you don’t. Why are you here at 5 in the morning, Sukuna.”, “Ouch back to Sukuna huh?” And oh, you wish you could wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face.

“Answer the question.” You say with a blank expression and sit across him. He sits forward and puts the book next to him, leaning his chin on his palm. Why did that book look so familiar? “Because your dad needs me, so I decided I’ll be staying here a while.”, “What book are you reading?” You ask, your heart rate picking up because it looked a lot like your handwriting. No wonder why your pillow felt too comfortable. He stands up and makes his way behind your seat, leaning next to your left ear. “You think I’m so hot, huh? You even want me to dick you down, yet you act like you hate me.” His hand snakes slowly around your neck, applying some pressure and you gasp. “You want me to choke your pretty throat huh?” His hand snakes up to your chin and his thumb strokes your cheek.

“That was private.” You grumble out, panting softly. “Oh? Yet you’re such a little fucking slut. Thought you could fool me hm?” Your hand snaps out and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. Still holding his wrist, you stand up and turn to face him, with your free hand you grip his face and mush his cheeks together. “You're too bold. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been watching me when you think I’m not watching. Or my used panties that have slowly been going missing. You’re not slick, Ryomen.” His eyes narrow and you laugh. “And you call me the slut. You’re the perv around here.”

He snarls and you walk away from him turning the coffee machine on. Your hands grip the counter when you feel his half hard cock push against your ass. “What are you- “, “Shut up. You’re such a fucking brat.” He pushes your head down and you grunt when your cheek makes contact with the cold counter. “C’mon doll you know you fuckin’ want me.” You smirk having an idea come into your head. Without saying anything you grind your ass against his clothed cock which is now hard and fuck you can feel how hard it is. You circle your hips, and he lets out a grunt in response.

You move your robe up exposing your now soaked panties, rubbing against his soaked pants for more friction. You wiggle your ass, teasing him. “Come on big boy. Do something, can’t leave a girl hanging now, can you?” You press harder against him and a breathy whimper escapes his lips. “You…” Fuck his voice sounds so raspy and you’re clenching around nothing. One of his hands shakily squeeze your ass and fuck right now you want him to fuck the living shit out of you. No. Y/n. You wanted him to be the one begging for you remember? You wanted him to be so down bad for you he’d go insane. Fuck this isn't good. You shiver slightly when your cunt makes a honeyed gush of wet arousal ruining your panties further. You feel his thick thumb run up and down on your clothed, soaked slit making goosebumps erupt all over you in response.

“Fuck…” he moans, “You’re so fucking soaked.”, and finally he removes his hand off your head. Both of his thumbs make contact with your slit through your panties and his thumbs sink into your hole, spreading you open through your panties and the moan he lets out? Worth it. You muffle your own moans behind your mouth with watery eyes. You stand up and pull away from him, grabbing his arms and pinning him to the counter. “What a naughty boy you are.” You tsk, “Already trying to fuck me before taking me to dinner? Chivalry is dead.”

You release his arms and grab a mug, pouring yourself coffee, desperately trying to distract yourself from how fucking wet you felt. You notice how he stays quiet, his eyes following your figure with every move you make. “What's got you so quiet, hm?”, You look over at him and notice a…blush? Covering his cheeks and ears? Now that was a rare sight. “I-uh- “He cuts himself off and storms off. What was that about?? You shrug it off and sit at the table. Of course, your diary was gone. Fuck your panties were clinging onto your soppy cunt. You quickly drown the rest of your coffee and head to your room.

You slip your now completely soaked panties off and grab your vibrator from under your bed, sitting on your bed you lay on your back and spread your legs; circling the toy up and down your leaking slit and clit, repeating the motion a few times. You slowly sink the toy into your needy cunt and line up the clit sucking part of the vibrator onto your clit. Turning it on makes you sigh in relief as the vibrations ease your neediness.

You moan softly as you move the bottom part of the vibrator in and out of your hole, your free hand fondling your tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples. Your legs shake as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm, your moans increasing as you move the toy faster, the vibrations and the heat from the vibrator making your head roll back into your pillow. You gasp wildly as your walls clamp around it, making your body tingle. You felt the knot in your tummy tighten as you cum hard around it, your walls spasming around your vibrator. fuck. you never come this quickly.

Shit. You still felt so turned on. You continue thrusting the toy in and out of you making your toes curl. You needed more. You needed Sukuna. You needed him so deep inside of you. Focusing on your own pleasure you couldn't hear Sukuna fisting himself with his ear to your door, your used panties over his nose as he inhales your scent. Hs entire body felt like it was on fire, burning with need while he pumped his cock imagining it was your wet, sopping cunt instead. Shit he felt so close, his thighs and abbs tensing in response as he cums harshly all over his hand and arm, his free hand muffling his mouth to not let any pathetic noises escape. Sukuna doesn't come that quickly. Not usually. He breathes heavily listening to your wet squelches and moans through the door. He wanted you so badly it hurt so much.

You’re not sure how much times you’ve cummed now, but you have a feeling Sukuna’s behind your door. For a while now you’ve been making sure your sounds are extra loud for him. Your body aches as you pull your now dead vibrator out of you, with shaky legs you slip your robe on and go into your bathroom, washing it and running yourself a bath. You put your vibrator on charge, hiding it and opening your door. You find nothing there but a large wet spot. You laugh to yourself knowing he was cumming hard to your sounds.

You shut your door and shrug your robe off, lighting a candle and sinking into the bath as you think of what to do. It’s around 7:40am now. “Y/n! I’ve got a job for you today!” Your dad’s voice sounds out, “I’ll send you the details!”, “Okay!” You yell out and smile. Finally, some action around here.

Time skip <3

You just finished your job. It was easy honestly but it’s raining and your new gown you got for the job has bloodstains. Oh well. If it’s washed properly, it shouldn’t be a problem. You’re waiting for your driver to come but… it feels like he’s late. Or maybe you’re being impatient? Ring ring! Ring ring! You look down at your phone, a call from…Sukuna? Why him? You sigh and answer, “What do you want.”, “where are you? Give me your coordinates. Now.”, you send him your location; “Why? What’s wrong?”, “Enemies of mine are looking for you. Your dad’s safe with me. If your driver or car shows up do not enter the vehicle, if anything hide till I get to you.”, “What do you mean enemies? What the fucks going on, Ryomen?” You stop talking when you notice your car. Your drivers car. Pull up in front of you. You stand still, motionless waiting for their first move.

“Y/n? Fucking answer me!”, You hang up the phone call, with your free hand you slowly snake your hand behind you, going up your thigh and grabbing your gun and throwing knives. Adrenaline floods through your veins when the car honks its horn. Your driver never honks the horn at you. With a beat of silence your eyes focus on the guns in the back aiming at you. Fuck. If you’re not quick, you’ll end up dead in about 2 seconds. Your eyes flit to your bag on the ground next to you. Perfect. You drop your phone onto your bag and run, hiding behind the tree near the entrance, with a quick motion you aim and blow the tires of the car. These fuckers aren’t leaving here alive.

You grab your throwing knives and wait. The people in the car shooting wildly now have the windows broken, and perfectly open for you. Idiots. You smirk and throw 2 knives hitting both of the people in the front seat in the head, instantly killing them.

Fuck. Now probably like 4 people in the back. Great. How long is Sukuna going to take? You hide behind the tree. Why does your mind keep travelling back to him? Those stupid tattoos. Those stupid piercings and his stupid pink hair. That stupid smirk he always gives you. Your heart rate picks up, why can’t you focus? You try to force yourself to focus on the dire situation at hand right now but the way he pressed your cock against you this morning. His thick hands...shit.

Why are you thinking of Sukuna? Sukuna… Sukuna.. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar tattoos and pink hair. Sukuna. “Took you long enough.” His voice fills your head, and you blink confusedly at him. “Huh? What happened?”, you go to sit up, but he puts a hand to your chest and keeps you from moving. "I came as quick as I could. They didn't touch you. They've been dealt with so do not worry." Without saying anything, both your hands grip his face and pull him closer to you. "What are y-", "Why are you in my head so much. it's like you're possessing me. What do you want from me, Ryomen Sukuna. Why did you have to come into my life." Your nails dig into his cheeks. His eyes widen in shock and... confusion?

Before he could respond you're out cold and he's left to think about what you said.

A few weeks later <3

It's been a few weeks since you've seen Sukuna. You've asked your dad where he went, and he said he has his own business to do. You couldn't find him anywhere, not even on any tracker or through anyone. it's like he left without a trace.

It's cold tonight. You look out the balcony and ignore the chilling cold breeze. It was a nice night tonight. The sounds of the night and traffic fill your ears and head leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe he'll come back? Pink hair...stupid tattoos...

"Didn't miss me too much now did you?" That deep voice. That familiar deep voice sounds through your ears, and you turn around so quick you almost fell over. Pink hair. Stupid tattoos.

"Where have you been? It's been weeks. What were you doing?" You question, watching as he comes closer to you. He was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand makes contact with your cheek, cupping it softly. Being soft wasn't Sukuna's style. You look into his eyes and see him frowning in thought. Sukuna disappeared for a while ever since you said you can't get him off your mind and here he was out of no where. He had some time to himself to reflect and try to get his feelings in check back to being heartless and cold. That didn't work. He couldn't stand anymore time away from you.

"It was not my intention to worry you." He thumbs your bottom lip, making your heart speed up. He looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world. You notice his gaze fixed on your lips and your eyes can't help but flit to his plush lips too. Your hands come up and cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "What were you doing? Why'd you leave without saying anything?", You demand. "Thought you hated me, princess.", "Shut up. "

The air around the two of you is thick, the both of you staring at each other's lips and heavy breathing, his hand on your cheek and both of yours cupping his face. Before you could blink Sukuna smashes his lips onto yours, his soft lips engulfing yours.

His tongue explores your mouth, shoving your tongue under his as he licks the cervices of your mouth, occasionally wrapping his tongue around yours. Your whimpers are swallowed up by his mouth greedily devouring yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull his body flush with yours; his hands move down to your waist and grip harshly. He moves you impossibly closer to him, his hands now gripping your ass. Fuck your entire body feels like it's been lit on fire, electricity courses through your veins like small sparks exploding throughout your body continuously.

Your lungs burn from the lack of air, but you don't want to stop. Not when you feel so good, not when you finally had Sukuna. He breathily pulls away from your lips, “Jump.” He orders, you comply and jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You start nipping at his neck while he carries you to your bed, softly placing you down and hovering on top of you. He looked so fucking good in his black suit. The rings he was wearing was doing things to you; you never thought you would feel from something so simple.

“Consume me.” You say softly, his eyes take you in, puffy lips, your nightgown haphazardly on you, your thighs squishing together and your hair disheveled. You were looking at him like you were going to explode if he didn’t touch you right now. He laughs and opens your robe, “Nothing underneath? What a slut. Did you know I was going to see you tonight?”, “Just a hunch.” your fingers were itching to grab him and pull him on you, but you fought the urge to. Wordlessly, his lips meet yours again; his tongue mapping out your entire mouth while his hands make contact with your breasts. He squishes them making the both of you moan into each other's mouths.

"Want me to consume you, huh?" He laughs, putting pressure as his hands trail down slowly from your breasts down to your belly button. "Possess me. I haven't been able to think of anyone or anything else besides you till you came into my life. You own me, Ryomen." With that you see a feral glint in his eyes as he shreds his blazer and top off, revealing...tattoos on his upper arms..chest..oh fuck. your cunt gushes out a wave of wetness pathetically making your slick drip down your thighs and onto the bed bellow you- making a wet spot.

"I can't fuckin wait. Waited long enough, brat. Can't say things like that and get away with it." He gruffs out and shreds his lower half bare. Thigh tattoos too? Fuck you think you just combusted right then and there. He pushes your thighs to your chest as he bites and sucks on your neck making you mewl in response. "Please. I need you so bad, please." You beg out, you don't even know what you're begging for at this point. For him to fuck you? Bite you? Him in general? Not even you know the answer. Maybe it was all.

He lines his cock in front of your entrance, and he rubs his leaky tip against your slit up to bumping your clit which makes you clench around nothing in response. His repeats the action a few times till he couldn't handle feeling your walls twitching against him any longer.

He sinks half of his hard cock inside of your sopping pussy, "it's all in." he lies, fuck it was so much. "F-fuck you're so t-thick" you manage to whimper out as he thrusts half of his dick in. You don't know its half but fuck it had your toes curling. "S-suk-una-! A-angh!!" you cry out and he buries his head in your neck and bites hard.

You gasp wildly and moan at the sensation because when Sukuna bites, he bites hard. He keeps your legs pinned to your chest and he finally thrusts the rest of his thick length inside of you making your walls clamp wildly and a shocked expression take over on your face, your eyes widening as you struggle to catch your breath. "W-what-! A-ah! Angh! K-kuna-!" And that fucker laughs at you. He starts ramming his stupidly big cock with harsh force making your eyes roll back and drool seep out of your agape mouth. "Yeah, that's it, fuckin take it." he grunts. The aroma of the candles you had lit and the open balcony with Sukuna fucking you stupid stimulated you and your mind so much to the point you felt like you were going to go insane.

He sits up and wraps a hand around your neck, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure on the column of your neck, rubbing his thumb up and down. Your walls convulse against him making him moan out in surprise. You make a mental note to do that more often. Without warning his hips somehow move faster and his free hand roughly grabs your tit, pinching your nipple. Fuck you couldn't even move, all you could do was just take it.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when the hand that was on your tit trails down to your stomach, his hips were smack into yours with need that made your entire body jerk up, his hand on your neck being the only thing to stabilize you. His cock was bruising your cervix with each harsh slap of his hips against yours, you could literally feel his mushroomed tip trying to rip through your stomach.

It was like his dick was trying to make a hole through your stomach so it could say hello to you. Fuck the bulge he was causing made you shake and wither around him and when he noticed it? That only made him go crazier. "Fuck..." his lips part and he lets out a low breaths grunt, "Fucking that's it." that's the last thing you blearily hear before your face is in the pillows and your ass in the air.

When the fuck did he flip us over? You don't have time to think before he drives his cock back inside of you and his thrusts are merciless. His hands grip the globes of your ass cheeks, and he spreads them harshly, exposing your tight ass hole. The cold air makes you shiver, and you almost feel your consciousness slipping. You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face because the only thing you could focus on was his dick rearranging your guts.

Your body feels like it's on fire, your senses full of him. Sukuna was all you could feel. All you could smell. All you could see, his image planted in your mind like it meant to be. It's like you could feel his entire soul.

His thumb circles your ass, hell his fucking thumb is bigger than your ass's hole. The hand that's not on your ass grabs your hair and pulks your face up. He leans over your body; basically, squishing it and presses his nose to your neck, "I have to fucking consume you. You know your little hole? Yeah? 'M going to make that mine too." Fuck you could die right now.

You try to speak but all that come out of your mouth is stuttered desperate gasps of breaths and choked moans, you claw desperately at the sheets and try to crawl away, his cock now half inside of you when you feel your body have a fire sensation spread throughout it.

"T-too m-much- angh!! " You manage to whimper out and oh does he look pissed off. One arm wraps around your shoulders and the other grips your waist and slides you back all the way down to the hilt of his cock. "You're not escaping me." He gruffs out and presses on the bulge in your stomach while he desperately yet sloppily slaps his hips into yours.

The knot in your tummy snaps and you don't cum, no, you squirt so hard all over his tummy, pelvis and thighs to the point your mouth was agape in a silent scream, your eyes clamp shut and you see pure white. "F-fuck-shit-y/n-" Sukuna moans out while he fills you up so much.

Your head felt dizzy, your body trembling into the mattress, you feel his surprisingly still hard cock slip out of you; his cum slowly dribbling out of you. "Don't think we're done, brat. Not after how much you pissed me off with your attitude.", You feel your heart drop. What. You weren't done? A rush of adrenaline rushes through your veins and you freeze when you feel his thick hands spread the globes of your ass cheeks.

"Told you, 'M gonna fuckin' consume you.", His gruff voice rings out and he runs his finger along your puffy, soaked folds- collecting the slick to lube your ass up. Once your holes wet enough, he slides a thick finger in, and you hear him laugh from how greedily your hole sucks his finger up. "N-not- funny-!" You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you shove your head in the pillow bellow you. It felt like a weird sensation. "Mm lets see if you can take another one.", Before you can react, he sinks in another finger inside of you making you mewl out in response.

He chuckles darkly before sliding in another finger- 3 fingers in total- and you felt like you were going to explode. With a slosh and a pop! he removes his fingers, and you shiver in response. "'Kuna- You don't have to-", "Zip it." You bite your lip when you feel his fat tip make contact with your hole.

Fuck it was too much. Without warning he slowly sinks his length into your tiny hole, shoving your head further into the pillow while you whimpered and moaned wildly. You hear him gasp and he lets a whimper slip out when he's all the way to the hilt.

Your eyes clench shut and your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck yeah...that's it..." He breathily grunts out and slowly rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the feeling. That doesn't last long though. He starts slamming his hips against yours as he holds your head down making you squirm and sob into the pillow.

"Fuckin' brat. Take it without cryin'." He spits out and lands a harsh spank to your ass making your entire body jolt and he palms where he slapped as a silent apology. He leans his entire body weight on top of yours while messily smacking his hips onto yours.

Your moans and cries are muffled and your entire body's tingling from both exhaustion and pleasure. The hand that's not still holding your head down snakes down to your puffy clit and he pinches it making you jolt your hips towards his. Wet sounds and skin slapping against each other filled the room along with his gasps and moans and your muffled screams.

Gripping the back of your hair he pulls your head up and bites your jaw, "'K-kuun-na-! A-Angh!!! P-pleeaaaseee-! O-ooohhhh!! Mfph!!!" Sukuna cut your blabbering off by shoving his fingers in your mouth causing you to make gurgling noises around them. His balls were slapping against your clit while he thrusted with all of his strength into you. "Fuckin' too loud. Be quiet or I'll stop fuckin' ya." At that you mouth clamps around his fingers, and you desperately try to stop yourself from screaming at how good you felt.

"I-I- shit..." He gasps, his throbbing cock twitched inside of you, and he felt his abs and thighs tense up. He was oh so close to coming inside of you. With his assault on your clit and his fingers massaging your slacked jaw mouth you felt the knot in your tummy snap as your eyes rolled back and your walls clamp around his cock. You hear him let out a strangled moan and gasp in your ear as you squirted messily all over his sensitive cock.

"Fuckin- shit-A-angh!" That's the last thing you could hear and the only thing you could feel was his leaky cock filling your ass up before your vision blackened and your body slumped against the pillow.

Sukuna can't move. He stays inside of you unmoving for a while, catching his breath and shaking slightly. Fuck. You were all he could think about, your skin, the way you looked at him, the way you shook, the way your cunt clenched around his flaccid cock. Your stupid smile. Your bratty attitude. How you looked when you were on a job. How you looked when you were at home.

Fuck. Just you. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

You consumed him just as much as he consumed you. His head felt dizzy, still inside of you his body slumps softly on top of yours. He doesn't even have any energy to move. Sukuna felt so warm inside it scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel warm. He was supposed to be cold hearted. It scared him how much you made him feel.

Your scent and just you in general overwhelmed his senses making his body erupt in goose bumps and shiver. Maybe consuming each other wasn't so bad.

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩｡˚ ⋆

Masterlist<3

Taglist :P

@my-own-au-my-way

[nathaslosthershit]

The Main Event (Multiple Pairings) Part 1

Can be read as a standalone but also (Part 8 in the Blind Items AU A/N: Its my nineteenth birthday 🥳 I wanted to write about adults being happy in different stages of their life because I am so scared of growing up and the thought of not being a teenager next year makes me nauseous. Enjoy! Each pairing has a Blind Items backstory which is linked at the start of their section (You don't have to read the backstory, though) Multiple (separate) Pairings: Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!reader, Oscar Piastri x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader, Lando Norris x reader, Lance Stroll x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader, Alexander Albon x reader in the next part Summary: A wedding between Logan Sargeant and the youngest Leclerc child means a very interesting guest list, in which all previous victims of the F1 Blind Items account are included.

Oscar Piastri

“Dude, how come you are more nervous about my own wedding than I am?” Logan asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes and scoffed, pretending what the American was saying was ridiculous, as he nervously picked at his nails, trying to hide his trembling hands. Logan just laughed at his friend's failed attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s just- I’m nervous about the media inserting themselves in the events today. I mean I don’t want to have my toddlers in the spotlight any more than they already are.” Oscar explained. After being forced to reveal his kids to the world before he nor his fiancée were ready, and after just a few interviews and racing events the kids attended, Oscar didn’t want to give the media much more for the time being.

“Wow, way to make my wedding about you.” Logan teased, trying to relieve the utter look of anxiety and despair on Oscar’s face. But the Mclaren driver just shot him an unamused glare. “Look, I have told you time and time again if you don’t want them as flower girls- or kids, I’d gladly make my brother frolick down the aisle throwing petals. As much as I love my honorary niece and nephew, nothing would make me happier than making Dalton do that.”

This finally got a laugh out of Oscar. “They have been practicing too much to do that, we would be in for a shit storm if you tried to take away their time to shine.” It had been a big thing in the Piastri household for the past few months. Every second of every day, Frances and Hudson had been asking their parents questions about what weddings were like, how they should walk down the aisle, and if they had to see uncle Logan kiss his wife (they were not amused by the idea of having to see that). Not to mention the hundreds of times they forced their parents to watch how they would walk down the aisle, asking what they thought and ignoring any criticisms given to them (they saw no reason as to why they shouldn’t be allowed to dance and sing while throwing petals). 

“Then calm down. If all goes well there won’t be any media there, I mean I think we have done a pretty good job at making sure no one outside the event knows about it. Plus, no offense but there are plenty of people with far more interesting stories and scandals than your family. The tabloids are bored with y’all now that there isn’t anything new to expose.” Maybe a harsh way of putting it, but it was true, there were plenty of Formula 1 couples who had been exposed by the media for various reasons in attendance today. 

“Right. Got to say, Logan, the guestlist is impressive. I mean could you imagine telling your 13 year old self that the Lewis Hamilton would be attending your wedding?” Oscar asked. Even after a few years racing against the guy, the shock from being around him never wore off. He just had that ‘greatest of all time’ energy.

“I can’t even take the credit for much of it though. It's the bride who brought all the biggest names.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully. It was true though, his wife-to-be had made friends with all the biggest names in the world and they weren’t half assed friendships either. She could make even the tiniest of acquaintances feel like longtime companionships. She could make everyone feel so unbelievably loved and cherished in such a short time.

God he couldn’t wait to marry her. 

Oscar laughed at the lovesick grin on his friend’s face. Usually he’d tease him, but he decided maybe he should just cut the man some slack on his wedding day. 

But the urge was too great he couldn’t let Logan go unteased, before he could do so though-

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Look, me and Fran match!” Oscar’s son, Hudson, ran into the room, his sister following after him.

The two seemed to light up in their soft blue outfits.

“Don’t you two look awesome!” Logan said from behind the twins, making them turn around. “You guys look better than me on my own wedding day.”

The toddlers shouted in excitement as they ran to their favorite honorary uncle (much to Lando’s chagrin. He fought hard for that title).

“You two ready to be the stars of the show? Throwing petals ain’t easy work.” He said as he crouched down to hug the toddlers.

Oscar rolled his eyes. Leave it to Logan to make his own children completely uninterested in him. Fortunately, someone who was actually interested in him entered the room after them. His wonderful fiancée.

“You look gorgeous, honey.” Oscar said awestruck.

“You saw me in this earlier.” She deadpanned. 

“Let a man compliment his fincée, will you?” Holding her close to him, kissing her deeply. It was only when the two weren’t cut off with toddler “ewws” and “stop grossss” that they looked back at their children, currently in a… dance competition with the groom. “Glad to see how much they care for us.” Oscar sighed, feeling childish jealousy. 

“Let him entertain them, he’ll get some more practice for when he has his own kids.”

“He’s too young, honey. He is about to get married, he doesn't need to think about that right now.” Oscar scoffed, feeling offended for his children that Logan would ever dethrone his honorary niece and nephew from being his favorite kids.

“Says the man who had two kids by 18 and has been engaged twice, but not married, by 23.” Honey amused.

He blushed at the reminder that their relationship had been done a bit… backwards.

“They already have an officiant and audience, maybe we can just jump in with the bride and groom, two birds with one stone.”

“Nope! I already have two Piastri’s taking the spotlight today, I don’t need more.” Logan said while both twins climbed all over him.

Charles Leclerc (And the Leclerc Co.)

Normally, hard launching your child was not something a bride would encourage on her wedding day, but as the youngest Leclerc child, Charles’ sister loved the drama. Hence why her nephew was making his debut to the public as the ring bearer. Only a month old, the media hadn’t gotten to meet the cutie as he was born right at the start of winter break. It brought tears to his eyes, how insistent his baby sister was on having her nephew involved in her wedding. It was already an emotional day for Charles, who felt like he was losing his first baby as he walked her down the aisle and sent her off into her future, but he truly couldn’t be happier.

And doing it with his son by his side just made it all the more memorable. 

“Honey?” Charles’ girlfriend called as she popped her head into the room he was getting ready in. In her arms was their newborn who, while still so small, broke everyone’s heart at how big he was getting. “Oh, my love, are you seriously crying again?” she asked as he tried to inconspicuously wipe away his tears.

Being reminded that he had just been crying only made him start to cry more.

“Charlie, you are more emotional than I was while pregnant. What is going on with you today?”

“It is stupid, I’m sorry. It's just- it was yesterday my sister was in my arms, having just been born, and now she is getting married and the American is taking her away.”

If there was one thing the Leclerc brothers loved to do, it was make fun of their soon to be brother-in-law. They truly did love Logan, but it was so easy to pick on him and he was far too polite to try anything with them yet. If you asked them, they would say they are just treating him like the brother he is, but they also just really love how much it pissed their sister off, who will certainly be defending him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, she isn’t going anywhere. They are still going to live in Monaco, and you race with her husband almost every weekend. If anything now that they are married you will see more of her.” 

It was true. Even if the Leclerc brothers had a strict ban on dating drivers, they had to admit that their sister had found a good partner in Logan. A man who was driving alongside Charles, had been on the same team as Arthur in the past, and knew just how important and difficult the sport was on family. 

Giving her boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek after wiping his tears from his face, Charles’ partner went on to try and fix the mess of hair that her lover was currently fighting. 

The Leclerc’s had terrible bed heads, something that unfortunately had already been seen in the first grandson, even at just a month old his hair was thick and unmanageable. 

Fortunately, Charles had calmed down enough that he was no longer a complete mess when his brothers entered the room. If Charles knew anything about his brother’s (and his sister) it was that such tears would have led to him being teased for the rest of his life about it. 

“Have you seen her?” Charles asked Enzo, hoping for any indication on how their sister was doing, having been too busy setting up for the wedding and taking care of his son to check on the bride thoroughly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “When we tried to see her, Maman wouldn’t let us in.”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Charles’ girlfriend asked, the same level of concern in her voice displayed accross Charles’ face. 

“No, no, the bride said she wanted to have a little moment with the four of us before the wedding, so she didn’t want us to see anything before.” Enzo explained. He had understood her sentiment, Arthur… not so much.

Letting out a breath at the confirmation that nothing was wrong, Charles sat quietly while he got his hair tamed, his brothers playing with their nephew in the back.

It was a sight that almost brought tears to Pascale’s eyes, but she had already cried so much and she knew she needed to save the rest of her tears for the ceremony. Her three boys, all in different stages of their lives, all dressed up and ready to support their baby sister on her big day. 

There was a sense of love and excitement in the air, reminding her of when her daughter had first been born, her older brothers hardly able to sit still while they waited in anticipation. Though everyone was calm now, having gotten most of their childish impatience out of their system, those feelings hadn’t changed. 

“Someone wants to see you all.” She spoke up, getting the attention of her boys. Charles’ girlfriend pressed a kiss to his cheek and took their son from his uncles, wanting to give the Leclerc siblings a moment alone. 

“My goodness, you look stunning.” She said to the bride as she walked through the doorway before leaving. This made all the brother’s perk up, losing the rest of their patience as they waited to see their baby sister.

The second she stepped into the room and tears welled up in everyone’s eyes, the Leclercs knew it was going to be a long day full of bittersweet melancholy, but also one so full of love.

Lando Norris

“Have I told you how wonderful you looked?” Lando asked, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

She rolled her eyes, “Only a thousand times since we got in the car. Not to mention when I was getting ready, when I was trying on dresses, or when I was simply speaking to you about what I was thinking of wearing.” She teased.

He knew it was overkill, but he also knew how stressed she was. Not about the wedding, she was excited to attend and celebrate, but of the fact she knew she’d finally be identified as Lando Norris’s “unremarkable” girlfriend the tabloids have talked about for a while. 

The media knew he was dating not a model, or heir to a fortune, or an influencer, but a “simple” teacher, one who had a private instagram account with hardly 100 people on it. They had seen what pictures Lando posted of her, maybe a few posted by friends, but they never showed her face. They didn’t even know her name.

Even though their words were harsh, even though it hurt they thought she was undeserving of him when they didn’t know her, the anonymity at least came with the sentiment that all their judgements came from one simple fact, that she was a teacher. Now, they would have more to criticize, more to know, and she hated the thought.

Despite the public not knowing about her though, she had still been able to become good friends with many of Lando’s. Had been present for many arguments between Logan and Lando as they defended their individual titles of being “the best honorary uncle” to the Piastri twins and had been there to help watch the toddlers so Oscar’s fiancée could get a bit of a break during races. 

She loved so many of the people there, and she knew they all had her back. Because of this, she felt more ready to face the music. She shouldn’t be ashamed of who she was, she loved everything about her life, and she wouldn’t be made to feel bad for loving Lando. 

In the end, it was what the two of them thought and felt about their relationship that mattered. 

Lando smiled as he watched her take a deep breath, ready for what was to come. He’d move heaven and the earth for her, and he for sure wasn’t going to let some idiots online ruin something so good.

Lance Stroll

“You must have the worst heartburn, huh?” A mutual friend of a friend, Marie, asked.

“Oh, well actually-”

“Ugh it was so bad! And the indigestion, that really sucked. Oh! Reminds me of this one awful stretch of time when I was pregnant. I was actually also at a wedding…” Marie started on a tangent about some pregnancy horror story. One the currently pregnant woman she was talking to, didn’t appreciate hearing at the moment.

Lance looked over at his wife, stuck in conversation looking pained. Fearing that something was wrong with her or the baby, he quickly made his way over with an excuse to whisk her away.

“Are you alright?” He asked once out of earshot of Marie. 

His wife opened her mouth to answer, but was unable to when a choked sound made its way out first. The sound attracted the eyes of several wedding guests, who upon seeing that she was pregnant, turned back to their conversations, finding that as the excuse for such an outburst. While she was embarrassed when all eyes turned to her, the lack of interest in her wellbeing after seeing her belly just made her start to sob even more.

Knowing his wife was in distress and clearly the crowded room was adding to the discomfort, Lance led her to an unoccupied hallway. 

“Come on, hun. How can I make this better?” Sweetness, with a bit of helplessness, in his tone.

“You-you can’t!” She cried. God, how was she ever supposed to explain what the hell was happening with her. Especially when each second, she felt differently.

Maybe that was the problem. 

 “I’m- I am so tired of being the pregnant lady.” She managed to get out.

Lance frowned at the confession. “I know, love. I can’t imagine what it's like to be pregnant, and I wish I could help. I know it sucks, but you can get through-”

“Stop! That's the problem. Every single issue I have is written off as something that just happens with pregnancy. Like they are just side effects that can’t be helped! Like I just need to deal with them alone because “I signed up for this”. Maybe it sounds stupid or childish but I don’t give a fuck anymore, Lance. I don’t want to be treated like some pregnant lady, I don't want to be treated as if every single emotion I have is just because of hormones or because all women are just expected to suffer through this! Marie just came up to me and started talking about her own horror stories from when she was pregnant! I don’t want to hear that, not when she isn’t giving actual advice, just trying to laugh about things I, as the currently pregnant person, don’t find funny! I don’t want to talk about how I am so hungry and have people laugh and say ‘oh that's just what happens’. I want to get food! I want to be able to be upset without people losing interest the second they realize it's just the pregnant lady crying. I want the things I'm going through to be taken seriously, Lance.”

A beat of silence as he took in her words. 

As the silence stretched on though, she found herself with an apology forming on the tip of her tongue, feeling bad for yelling at her husband during her tangent when, even if he had contributed to the problem, he didn’t really do anything wrong. 

Just as she opened her mouth though, he got on his phone. 

She started to not feel as bad as she watched her husband seemingly ignore all she said.

“Are you-” She began, just to be cut off by him putting his phone in his pocket, and kissing her deeply.

Most of her anger seemed to disappear at that moment. He hadn’t kissed her like that in what felt like forever. Since she had told him she had been pregnant, he had been unsure of how to go about doing… well, anything. 

After a few passionately blissful seconds, he pulled away, still holding her face between his hands and stroking her cheek with his thumbs. “I ordered a car to take us to a crappy fast food place.”

She stammered, “What do- why?”

“You said you are hungry, the ceremony hasn’t even begun yet, we are going to be here for a while before we can eat and while I’m sure the bride and groom have an amazing set up, there isn’t a point in making you suffer any longer when we can fix it.” he explained.

She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to agree, but she also wanted to support their friends and knew she probably shouldn’t skip out on their wedding day. But she really needed something to eat and her feet were killing her already- 

“No, Lance, we shouldn’t it- it would be rude.” She answered.

Lance laughed at her attempt at trying to convince both herself and him. “As much as I’d love to stay, I’d much rather watch you eat a disgusting amount of fast food in an impressively short amount of time all the while dressed to the nines. Plus, we both know the bride and groom would be understanding.” He said as he grabbed her purse and opened the door for her. “After you, my love.” 

She sighed, realizing he was right. 

“Oh how gentlemanly of you,” she teased in a posh accent. “Is it often you whisk away distressed damsels to fast food restaurants?” 

“Only the gorgeous ones. I did earn my nickname of Sir Lancelot from my wife for a reason.” He teased back.

“It seems you have.” She replied with a kiss on the cheek.

Lewis Hamilton

“Oh, sweet pea. You look stunning!” Lewis said as he facetimed his daughter, currently at home with her mom.

The young girl giggled at the compliment, asking her dad about the wedding. She had been more than curious about weddings lately after hearing that her dad was attending one. 

“-and the bride wears a beautiful white dress”

“Like the one mommy is wearing?” she asked her dad, pointing to the oversized t-shirt her mom was wearing with paint stains on it from when she and her partner had painted the nursery for the 1 year old currently asleep in said room. Lewis laughed at the image.

“While I am sure your mommy could wear that and still be the most beautiful girl in the world. A wedding dress is a little… different.” Lewis answered.

“Mommy! Can I see your wedding dress?” her daughter asked.

Both parents froze at the question, realizing they might have not told their child a pretty important detail about her parents. 

“Oh- honey. Daddy and I never got married.” She answered. Her daughter looked back at the phone, at her dad, confused.

“Dad? Why didn’t you marry mommy? Don’t you love her?” 

Harsh. Lewis didn’t know how to answer such a question, but he eventually found the words. 

“Sweetheart, you know I love your mom very much. You are all my most favorite girls. Some people just don’t get married, they don’t feel the need to.” He answered. It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t want to, they had planned on it. But their first daughter had been unplanned, then their second had been too, and eventually, as they became everything to one another, they didn’t have a wedding so high on their priority list, knowing the proof of their love was evident in the two girls they were raising, in the life they had built together despite many unwanted opinions trying to ruin it. 

“Let me talk to your dad sweetie. Can you grab my water from the living room?” His girlfriend asked as her daughter handed her the phone and jumped off the bed.

After the sound of the young girl’s footsteps softened in the background, she spoke up, “Sorry about that, Lew, she saw a photo of some celebrity wedding today and her interest in the topic was reignited.”

“She is a curious kid, I get it. She is a smart one too, she gets it from her mother.” He watched his girlfriend blush at the compliment. Even while tired having to take care of the two young children alone, she seemed to be glowing. “We never did get around to marriage, did we?” 

She sighed, “I guess we got too busy. I hadn’t even thought about it in a while- not that I don’t want to marry you still!”

He laughed at her realization she may have chosen her words wrong, “No, I haven’t either. Two kids is a lot, and we both know how we feel about each other. But I will always be ready to marry you, the second you say so.”

“Well, I’ll always be ready to marry you, after you properly propose. You already got two kids out of me, I at least deserve a big flashy ring.” She teased.

“And you shall have it my love.” Lewis suddenly heard his daughter coming back. He spoke up when he saw her pop back up on screen, “What do you think, love bug? Should mommy and daddy get married? I think your mom would look beautiful in a big white dress, right?”

The little girl perked up at that, “Yes! But, will it be hard for mommy to wear a dress with the baby in her tummy?” She asked, pointing to her mom’s stomach.

Both adults froze. 

Slowly, Lewis’ girlfriend let out a deep sigh. “Baby, I told you not to talk about that with daddy till we could tell him…”

If his eyes opened any wider, they would have popped out of his head. “She’s serious? We are having another baby?”

“Surprise? I wanted to keep it a secret till you came back and make it all special but she was so sad when you left I told her to cheer her up.”

Lewis’ heart softened at the thought, “Well, I guess a wedding might have to be postponed for the time being” He amused.

They’d get around to it, maybe after this next kid, maybe after the next few.

Part 2 coming soon featuring: Alex Albon x reader, Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!Reader (Its 1 am and I have work in a few hours)

[beefscrap]

I say “maybe someday” but I get scared someday never will come. So I’ll be brave and speak

“A dream come true” is a phrase I’ve said here before, but that doesn’t even graze the surface. I’ve been writing stories and drawing since I was very young. It’s all I’ve ever done. And for years, one of my biggest wishes was to collect a fanbase for at least one of my stories. Calling my followers a “fanbase” seems really intense, though. I hesitate to call my readers a fanbase because I don’t feel I deserve it. “Fanbase” feels like it’s for someone who made something AMAZING.

I started making TBoFS at the beginning of this year. I’d work on it whenever I got sad, and it turned out to be often. It was just for fun, and something to escape to. Every time I make a story I think to myself ‘I’m sure it’ll pass’, because they usually do. It’s hard for me to finish things in general. So, I thought nothing much would come of it. I never would’ve imagined it’d get as much attention as it does.

No, maybe it’s not a LOT. No way in hell I’d call myself popular, or anything CLOSE. But there are people now who comment, react, interact, theorize, make art, etc for this story. I’ve never felt so special. I never felt like anything I’ve done ended up with any significance. Even if it’s a small amount compared to other online creators, I feel like I have a fanbase. If it’s not considered one, I don’t care. To me it’s one of the biggest, most important things that happened to me. If you couldn’t tell I was dramatic before, you’re finding out now!

I started with low hopes and just made shit for fun. This doesn’t even feel like a very GOOD story half the time because it was so casual at the start. Like, what am I doing to deserve what I have?

I still come to this story and these characters when I’m sad. This year was rough. The people here have helped. And I have a little bit of hope now that someday I can make something totally my own that people will like. That’s always been the dream. But THIS is more than enough.

I’m so lucky to have people who care here. And I thank the people who cared when it was only just beginning, too

I’m not gonna add tags or anything cuz I feel annoying and am a little embarrassed 😭 if you see and read this then hopefully it wasn’t too weird

[kai-eatsart]

y’all are disgusting. not kat and the good people. the people who CAUSED THIS. i literally have no idea what the fuck is wrong with you guys who caused this. that’s disgusting, disrespectful, and disappointing. what the actual hell. earth is an awesome and really good fucking written character. shes selfless, caring, funny, cute, wholesome, silly, wise, forgiving, trustworthy, and a kindhearted person and character in general. i don’t understand whats going on in these peoples heads when they say this shit. omfg. and i also don’t get the hate on the writing on tsbs as a whole. its great writing and it makes me and many others happy and on edge waiting for whats coming next bc its great. you sick pieces of shits. to go out of your way to say shit to hurt her and everyone else is sick. and the fact the other people are hating on most of the women characters more then the men are just actually wtf. like, i don’t care if like nexus more than earth, but the fact that you support what nexus has done vs earth is just crazy man. Kat, if you are reading this, we understand and support your choice. im not targeting people as individuals, im talking as a whole. The fandom makes me question a lot. Grow the fuck up to the people who are doing this. you know who you are. Grow. the. fuck. up.

I'm Done Writing For LAE

I've written for LAE for a while now, even when I have 3 other jobs and not a lot of time to dedicate to it. But apparently all that time and effort I put in just isn't good enough.

Every time I open Tumblr, read the YouTube comments, scroll through TikTok, and sometimes even on the TSBS fan discord, I'm welcomed by people saying how shit my writing is, how shit my characters are, or how much they dislike xyz.

This isn't me wanting sympathy, or to guilt trip you. Though I'm fully expecting people to say I am. I just want to let you know; I'm done. I'm not writing any more episodes or interacting with the community in any way. I've tried. It's clearly not good for my mental health. So I'm done.

This isn't me saying I'm done voice acting or anything, I'm still going to be Earth/Pollux/Dazzle, I just won't be writing what will be happening to them anymore.

I put my heart and soul into these characters and their stories, but apparently that's just another way to get hurt.

If you have questions about TSBS, don't send them to me. I'll only answer/interact with questions/posts about my own series/channel.

[tealmagicmoon]

I think we should start a positive trend in the fandom

SPRED THE HASTAGE I LOVE TSBS WRITING

because (I’m guilty of this two) the positive side is quite compared to the bad side. I know moving forward I’m going to put disclaimers on all character rants or theory’s or ep reviews talking about how I love the writing I’m just taking about the characters and my opinions. I noticed that in my posts unless give consistently read my previous posts I come off a dick and I sound like I’m insulting the writing even if I’m not meaning two and that’s on me.

Let’s take my opinion on Earth’s character

I think Earth used to put her own need to feel like she’s helpful so she can be a good person onto other to the point where it was manipulative. I don’t know she did it on purpose but I do think she didn’t do enough to change.

But this is where I’m in the wrong. Because Earth changed and I saw and appreciated that but in my posts there are FAR more that express my negative views on Earth compared to the positive ones.

And that’s because I didn’t think I had much to say about it when I know I could have. It’s because wording positive things is harder then negative for me so when I would try I would get bored and give up mid way never posting my thoughts on them.

(For the people who will take this out of context:

No I’m not judging Earth because she’s a woman I’m critiquing my old opinion of Earth that was made based on her actions towards others.)

I’m aware that the main problem that is effecting the shows is not people like me however we don’t do enough to help.

So why am I making this post? Well self-reflection mainly but also-

Kat and Davis I know you leark (idk if that’s how u spell it) on tumbler so if any of my posts made you feel like this I’m so sorry I contributed to this negativity. I should have tagged and disclaimed my posts and made it clear to an unfamiliar person that I’m not just shitting on a character but I failed to do so. I love you and your writing I’ve been learking and watching you both since FTO S4 and TFF Security breach and your SCP series. I really love your stuff and I’ve always love your writing. I don’t think I’ve expressed that enough.

@queenkatluv

@theinvisibledavis

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty One: Sounds Illegal As Fuck SS: 11 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3K Content Warnings: Previous Next Masterlist

Minho is sitting at a corner table in the university cafeteria, poking at a chicken wrap with disinterest. Hyunjin is sitting across from him, twirling his straw in his iced latte while Chan and Changbin are in a heated debate about who would win in a fight: a bear or a Komodo dragon. Seungmin is scrolling through his phone, unbothered as usual, while Jeongin is trying and failing to hide his laughter at Changbin’s increasingly ridiculous bear impersonation.

Chan looks at his watch and frowns. “Where the fuck are the three criminology nerds? Their lecture ended like fifteen minutes ago. Don’t they know lunch is sacred? I mean I know their lecturer is keeping them behind but fifteen minutes is excessive”

“Maybe Hayun’s doing her usual, losing herself in a rabbit hole,” Hyunjin says, slurping his drink obnoxiously. “Felix probably followed her to make sure she doesn’t trip over her own feet.”

“And Jisung’s probably helping her dig,” Changbin adds, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk. “Those three are either like one brain cell divided between them or the smartest people in the room, there's no in between”

Before anyone can respond, the cafeteria doors slam open, and Jisung bolts in, looking frantic. He spots Minho and runs straight over. “Minho! You have to come with me. Now.”

Minho straightens, already alert. “What’s going on?”

“Just come on!” Jisung grabs Minho’s wrist, tugging him up so abruptly that Minho nearly knocks over his tray. The others rise instinctively, exchanging confused glances before following Jisung, who is practically dragging Minho toward the criminology department.

“Jisung, what the hell is going on?” Minho presses, his tone sharp, but Jisung doesn’t slow down.

“You need to see this,” Jisung says, his voice low but urgent. His usual cheeky, upbeat demeanour is completely absent, replaced with something raw and serious.

The group trails through the corridors, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Changbin and Chan jogging to keep up. “If this is another one of your dumb pranks, I swear-” Changbin starts, but the tension in Jisung’s expression shuts him up.

When they reach the criminology department, there’s already a crowd gathered around the large bulletin board by the lecture hall. People are snapping pictures, murmuring among themselves. Minho pushes through the throng with Jisung guiding him, the rest of the group on his heels.

Standing at the edge of the scene are Hayun and Felix. Hayun is still, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. Felix is glaring at anyone who so much as glances in Hayun’s direction. Minho feels his stomach churn as he pushes past the last few onlookers and sees what’s on the board.

A crude voodoo doll meant to resemble Hayun is pinned to the corkboard with large needles sticking through it. Its fabric is soaked with a red liquid that drips onto the floor, forming small, eerie puddles. Above the doll, in large, jagged letters painted in the same red liquid, are the words:

JANG HAYUN IS A DEAD GIRL WALKING

Underneath, another line reads:

SONG MINGI’S WHORE

Tacked next to the writing is a confidential police report. One of Mingi’s interviews with the authorities, where he names Hayun as his youngest victim.

The sight feels like a punch to Minho’s gut. He reaches for Hayun immediately, pulling her into his arms and trying to turn her head away from the display.

“Don’t look,” he says softly, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Don’t look at that shit, Princess.”

But Hayun doesn’t let him shield her. Her voice is steady, almost unnervingly calm. “Minho, it’s fine. It’s just some idiot with too much time on their hands, a talent for hacking police files and some red paint”

Minho grips her tighter, his jaw clenching. “Hayun, I don’t think that’s paint.”

Chan steps forward, his expression thunderous. “If I see another person take a picture, I’m gonna start smashing phones.”

Changbin stands beside him, arms crossed. “You heard him! Get lost, assholes!” His voice booms, scattering the crowd like startled birds.

Meanwhile, Seungmin returns with campus security, who start directing the remaining students away. Hayun sighs as she watches the scene unfold, her calm demeanour unwavering.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, stepping back from Minho’s embrace. “Just take it down. The police aren’t going to do shit about it anyway. They’re already pissed we made them look bad by solving Chaeryeong’s case and clearing her name.”

She walks toward the board, grabs the voodoo doll without hesitation, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. Her movements are deliberate, almost defiant. “The paint or blood or whatever it is another story, though, I can't clean that off,” she mutters, glancing at the red streaks on the floor.

As the security guards work to remove the rest of the display, Felix steps up beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re handling this a lot better than I would.”

Hayun gives him a faint smile. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.”

Minho approaches, standing so close their shoulders brush. “Still, it’s not something you should have to deal with.” He reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not leaving your side until we figure out who did this.”

Hayun glances at him, her lips quirking up in a wry smile. “Thanks, Min.”

Chan walks over, arms crossed. “I swear to God if we find out who did this-”

“You won’t have to,” Hayun interrupts. “We’ve got bigger things to focus on. This?” She gestures to the remnants of the display. “This is just noise.”

But as Minho looks at the red-streaked board and the confidential police report, he knows it’s more than that. And whoever’s behind it isn’t just making noise. They’re sending a message.

The group leaves the university building in tense silence. Minho strides toward his car, tossing his keys in the air. Hayun follows him closely, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of the oversized sweater she’s borrowed from Minho.

Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix trail behind, their steps heavier with worry. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin peel off toward Chan's car, murmuring among themselves.

Minho swings open the driver’s door of his car, glancing at Hayun as she slides into the passenger seat. "Let’s get coffee," he mutters, starting the car with a low growl. Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix pile into the backseat, squeezing into the limited space.

Hayun glances at him, raising an eyebrow. “Fancy coffee or basic coffee?”

Minho shoots her a look, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite himself. “You know what I’m ordering, princess.”

Jisung leans forward from the backseat, grinning faintly. “Bet it’s a basic bitch iced americano.”

“Fuck off, Jisung,” Minho retorts, though his tone is lighter.

When they reach the drive-through, Minho orders his iced americano with a dramatic sigh. Hayun leans over to order her hazelnut honeycomb frappuccino with an extra shot. Jisung and Jeongin shout their iced americano orders over each other, while Felix calmly requests a peach iced tea.

“You’re all fucking parasites,” Minho grumbles, handing over his card. “I should start charging you assholes for gas.”

Hayun grins, sipping her drink. “And emotional labour. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, you should bill Hayun specifically,” Jisung chimes in, snickering. “The girl’s got baggage.”

Hayun flips him off without looking back. Minho smirks, resting his hand lightly on her knee. “I’ll take it,” he says, his voice low enough that only she hears.

The house feels heavy with tension as Hayun walks into the kitchen. She doesn’t hesitate, grabbing her hazelnut honeycomb frappuccino and pouring a generous amount of Bailey’s into it. The rich, creamy aroma wafts up as she stirs it with slow, deliberate motions, her mind racing.

She takes a long sip, the alcohol cutting through the sweetness and soothing some of the tension that’s been gripping her chest since the incident at the university.

Behind her, the others trickle into the kitchen, their faces drawn tight with concern. Minho’s presence at her side is immediate, his hand briefly brushing her lower back as if to silently ask, Are you okay? She doesn’t answer, just leans slightly into his touch.

Chan’s group enters moments later, Chan immediately zeroing in on the growing group. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands once, his tone brisk. “What the fuck’s the plan?”

Hayun shrugs, leaning back against the counter with a sigh. “What can we do? Report it to the cops?” She snorts derisively, shaking her head. “They already hate us. We’ve been on their shit list since we started digging into Chaeryeong’s case.”

Jisung, pacing in the narrow space near the sink, stops mid-step and throws his hands up. “You can’t just shrug this shit off, Hayun! Someone hacked into a police database and used fucking blood to send a death threat. That’s not just some bored college kid pulling a prank. That’s serious psycho energy.” His voice is sharper than usual, panic and anger bubbling to the surface.

Minho’s face hardens, but his tone remains calm, measured. “If it’s that elaborate, it’s not Mr. Shin,” he says, taking a slow sip of his americano. “The guy’s a cop. He wouldn’t risk being that blatant. He’s smarter than that.”

Jeongin tilts his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “But what if it’s not him directly? Could be someone connected to Mingi, right? Someone who’s pissed about him going down or scared they’re next. If Hayun’s name is tied to Mingi’s trial-”

“Which it is,” Felix cuts in, his voice even but sharp, “then yeah, she’s a fucking target. They’d come after her first to send a message.”

Seungmin, perched on a stool by the island, raises an eyebrow. “But why just Hayun? If they wanted to scare us off, wouldn’t it make more sense to target all of us? You know, spread the fear around?”

Hyunjin, who’s lazily sitting on the counter and twirling his iced latte, points at the group with his straw. “Hayun’s the linchpin. She’s the one who planted the seeds to frame Mingi for Yuna's murder. If they know that-”

“They shouldn’t fucking know that!” Minho snaps as he slams his coffee cup onto the counter. The sound reverberates through the room, silencing everyone. He turns to Hayun, his dark eyes intense. “Princess, is there anything you’ve done that might’ve made you their target? Anything you haven’t told us?”

Hayun blinks up at him, startled by the weight of his stare. “I don’t know why this is happening.”

Minho’s jaw flexes as he leans back against the counter, his frustration simmering just below the surface. “We need answers. Fast.”

Chan steps forward, folding his arms. “If it’s someone tied to Mingi, we start there. We dig through his connections, find out who he was working with, who had the most to lose when he went down. That’s where we’ll find our culprit.”

“And how exactly do we dig?” Changbin asks, his tone sceptical as he leans against the fridge. “We don’t exactly have access to his Facebook friends list.”

Jeongin’s face lights up with determination. “We hack”

“Sounds illegal as fuck,” Seungmin mutters, though there’s no judgment in his tone.

“So is painting threats in blood,” Jisung fires back, his voice brimming with barely restrained anger. “I’m fucking done playing nice. Whoever did this doesn’t get to just walk away.”

“Ji...” Hayun’s voice is soft, and she steps closer to him, her hand reaching out to rest on his arm. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Jisung shouts, yanking his arm away, his eyes blazing. “It’s not okay, Hayun. You keep acting like you can handle this shit on your own, but you shouldn’t have to. They came after you today, but what if it’s Felix next? Or Jeongin? Or Minho? Or me?”

The room goes quiet, Jisung’s words hanging heavy in the air. Minho clears his throat, his voice low and dangerous. “Let them try.”

Hayun places a hand on his arm now, grounding him in the same way she’d tried with Jisung. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to figure out who’s behind it before we go all vigilante.”

Chan nods, his tone decisive. “Agreed. First step: gather intel. We’ve got the skills, the tools, and more than enough motivation.”

Felix raises his peach iced tea in a mock toast. “To us: the broke, overworked Scooby-Doo gang.”

Hyunjin snickers. “If we’re Scooby-Doo, who’s Shaggy?”

“Jisung,” Jeongin and Minho say in unison.

“Fuck you guys,” Jisung mutters, though there’s the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

The room relaxes, but the tension never fully dissipates. As Chan begins assigning tasks, Minho catches Hayun’s eye. He leans closer, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not doing this alone. Not now, not ever. Got it?”

Hayun looks at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she nods. “Got it.”

But even as she says it, Minho can see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the part of her that still believes she has to carry this burden on her own. And he silently promises himself that he won’t let her face this fight alone. Not ever.

A few hours later, the living room is a cacophony of chaos, wine bottles and whiskey glasses strewn across the coffee table like casualties of war. The air is thick with laughter, half-shouted arguments, and the occasional clink of glass against glass.

Hayun is curled up on Minho’s lap in the loveseat, her legs tucked to the side, her black yoga shorts and fluffy socks making her look comfortably at home against his body.

Minho’s arm is looped securely around her waist, his hand resting on her hip as if to anchor her there. In his free hand, he holds a glass of whiskey that threatens to spill every time he gestures too emphatically.

“Listen,” Minho begins, his voice rising as his whiskey glass wavers dangerously in the air, “I’m just saying, Edmund is the fucking worst. Absolute worst. Who the fuck betrays their family for a box of Turkish Delight? Powdered sugar? Really?”

Chan bursts into laughter. “We’re still doing this? Minho, it’s been a week! A whole-ass week. Let it go!”

“Never,” Minho retorts, pointing at Chan with his glass as though he’s delivering a divine proclamation. “I hated him in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, he’d redeem himself in Prince Caspian. But nope. Still a little shit.”

Hayun, her face buried in her wine glass, starts to laugh so hard her shoulders shake. Minho glances down at her and narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, but she can’t stop giggling.

“He’s not that bad,” she finally manages, her voice tinged with amusement. “By the end of the trilogy, he grows a lot. You’re just being dramatic.”

Minho jerks back, scandalized. “Not that bad? Not that bad?! Princess, were we even watching the same movies? The guy fucked up every single situation he touched!”

On the couch, Chan sprawls with one leg propped up on the armrest, swirling the wine in his glass. He groans loudly. “For fuck’s sake, Minho, it’s a kids’ movie. Get a grip. Cut the guy some slack.”

Minho slams his glass down on the coffee table with a thud. “No. I don’t care if it’s for kids. Edmund deserved to get his ass kicked by Aslan. And not just once, multiple times. That’s character development.”

Jeongin, lounging on the armchair with a blanket draped over his lap, grins wickedly. “You must have hated Eustace, then.”

“Don’t even get me started on Eustace!” Minho exclaims, throwing up his hands. “That little fucker was worse than Edmund. At least Edmund was manipulated by the Witch. Eustace? Eustace was just a dick for no reason.”

Felix snorts into his wine glass, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “The dragon redemption arc didn’t fix anything for you, huh?”

“Not a damn thing,” Minho replies, shaking his head vehemently. “He was a shithead before, and he was a shithead after. Turning into a dragon doesn’t erase that.”

Hyunjin, perched delicately on the arm of the couch like a cat surveying its domain, raises a hand. “Alright, but can we all agree that Prince Caspian is hot as fuck?”

The room erupts into drunken agreement, voices overlapping in a chaotic chorus of dreamy sighs and affirmations. Chan leans forward, nodding vigorously. Felix dramatically clutches his chest like he’s about to faint. Even Jeongin raises his wine glass in silent approval.

Minho stares at the group, his jaw dropping. He turns to Hayun, who’s giggling into her glass. “Not again,” he groans, dragging his hand down his face. “I already had to deal with you drooling over him when we watched the movies. I’m not doing this twice.”

Hayun grins. “Minho, we’re not even watching the movies right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Minho declares, covering her eyes with one hand. “You’re not seeing him again. Not on my watch.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You know she already knows what he looks like, right? This is pointless.”

Minho shrugs, still holding his hand over Hayun’s eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’m protecting her from bad accents and worse decisions.”

“Stop being a fucking buzzkill, Minho,” Felix says, rolling his eyes. “She’s allowed to find Caspian hot.”

“Not while she’s sitting on my lap,” Minho counters. “Levi Ackerman? Fine. He’s 2D. But Prince Caspian? Fuck no.”

Jisung, already tipsy and emboldened, smirks. “Still haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend, though. So maybe you don’t get a say.”

Minho shoots him a death glare. “And you haven’t asked Hyunjin to be your boyfriend, so maybe shut the fuck up, dickhead.”

Jisung flushes, his bravado deflating as Hyunjin smirks and ruffles his hair. “Minho, you’re such an asshole,” Jisung mutters, louder this time when Hyunjin starts laughing at him.

Hayun pulls Minho’s hand away from her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “For the record,” she says, setting her wine glass down, “I already told him I’m not going to be his girlfriend until he watches Harry Potter.”

“That’s so fucking ridiculous,” Minho groans, leaning back against the loveseat and dragging Hayun with him. 

“No, it’s not!” everyone shouts in unison, their drunken solidarity palpable.

“Fucking finally,” Chan shouts. “Someone with standards!”

“That’s not fucking ridiculous,” Jeongin adds. “That’s basic human decency.”

“Watch the damn movies, Minho,” Felix insists, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

Minho groans, leaning back into the loveseat and dragging Hayun with him. “You’re all insufferable.”

Hayun laughs, patting his chest as she rests her head against him. “It’s okay, Min. I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll even make popcorn.”

Minho looks down at her, his gaze softening despite himself. “You’re too fucking sweet, you know that?”

Felix raises his glass in a mock toast. “To Hayun: the only person who can tolerate Minho’s bullshit.”

“Cheers to that!” everyone shouts, their laughter filling the room. Minho rolls his eyes, but the faint smile tugging at his lips gives him away. 

I originally wasn't going to post this until tomorrow but I had to because your girl is going to see Stray Kids in LONDON!

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

[fyeahnix]

Hiiiiii I love your blog and your writing so much.

I know you have a hc that Sevika is bilingual, can you elaborate on that? Who taught her Spanish? Did she grow up speaking it? Does she do that thing where she forgets the English word for something and has to make up something to describe it? Does she say things in Spanish when people ask her to tell them something knowing they don’t speak Spanish so she can go “what, I told you already?”

Also I would die if she referred to me as “mi mujer” 😭😭😭

Thank you, have a great day!

Hello, anon! Thank you for the kind words 😄

So, yeah I think I mentioned this in a random throwaway Sevika headcanon post and haven't ever elaborated on this. But yes...

One of my headcanons for Sevika is that she is trilingual, and that stems from her family. First and foremost, I don't play League and I don't know shit about League lore outside of the bits of research I did to write for some Sevika stuff. I do see that League lore is incredibly detailed and expansive (which is fascinating to me) but there's still a lot that hasn't been explained from what I can tell? It looks like there are multiple languages that exist in Runeterra, which makes sense considering how many sentient races and ethnic groups there are. So let's talk about that for a second so you can understand my thought process on this. Walk with me here.

First off, this is, of course, a fantasy universe so the concept of languages and the countries they come from don't exist in that universe in the same way they do here. For example, there is no country called Spain, and therefore, there is no language called Spanish. So how does that work in my head? Easy. Use an existing language as a proxy for a fantasy one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I mean...are the characters speaking English in Arcane? Clearly no, because Germanic languages and the countries they derive from don't exist. They're speaking whatever local language exists in that universe. I figured why not add some other IRL languages for flavor? So with that being said, this is where we get to another headcanon.

If we're going by ethnic background, I like to imagine Sevika as Afro-Latino from her father's side and South Asian through her mother. Why? Her VA, Amirah Vann, is Afro-Latina (African American father and Puerto Rican mother) and speaks fluent Spanish. Sevika's name appears to be Indian in origin and I mean...like look at her lol. She is clearly meant to be, in our world, South Asian, most likely Indian. I obviously do not know what region of Runeterra this ethnic background would translate to. Maybe Shurima???

Given that background (and the bit of trivia about her VA), that's how I came up with her being trilingual. Learned all three languages growing up in the home. "Spanish" from her father, and a third language I haven't decided yet (Hindi? Urdu? Sanskrit? Punjabi? Don't know yet, need to research) from her mother.

Why? Well...why not lol. Truthfully, I thought it'd be interesting to make up some additional reasons why she's so fit to be Silco's right hand. Piltover and Zaun are port cities, and being port cities, you're going to come across a lot of people from a lot of different cultures who speak a lot of different languages. Basically the idea here is that Silco chose her as his second because of a variety of factors:

Multilingual, helps with gaining trust and securing deals

Trusted patron at The Last Drop

Same end goal of liberating Zaun

Loyalty

Can hold her own if shit goes south

Intimidating (she's fucking huge and can beat your ass)

Good at reading people

Surprisingly good at negotiation when she does bother speaking

And now that we know that Sevika herself was the one handling the majority of the deals (she said so herself in Season 2), I like this headcanon even more lmfao. Like here's an excerpt from an unreleased piece of writing I did that mentioned it:

The downside here ofc is that I, personally, only speak one language lol. I took Japanese in high school for 4 years and can't remember much except how to read hiragana and katakana (should have studied more!). I am absolutely going to have a lot of blindspots when it comes to things that only bilingual folks or folks who speak more than one language experience, and that is something that would be worth doing a bit more research on. Quirks like the ones you mentioned are things I forget that people experience 😅

That is a bit long so sorry for that, but I hope this answers your questions well.

Keep in mind: these are just headcanons. That's it. This is for fun. If you think something different, then do you!

taglist: @gaudesstuff @archangeldyke-all @abitohoney @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat

@ash-fall7 @the-anonmaton @peanutbutterprincess @thesevi0lentdelights @kylorey25

[maul-of-shame]

Oh my god you’re out here acting like you’re some badass queen for having a horrible ship but you just sound like a middle aged bored mom who read a Colleen Hoover book and now makes it their entire personality because they’re bored. Also what’s with the big red letters? You don’t sound like a mean girl who’s making a point, you sound like a loser who’s in desperate need of a dose of reality.

Galadriel is like an older sister (or even a mother figure) to Elrond, which is why their relationship is so comforting. You trying to ruin that does make me upset cause I’m tired of people having no sense of media literacy. Not everything has to be shipped and definitely not something as dumb as this.

Also, fuck that stupid Sauron/Galadriel ship. It’s straight up people romanizing abuse and it’s disgusting. Canon!Galadriel would have never fallen for Hallbrand’s shit or Sauron’s charms and the way the Rings Of Power writers took a strong, mature female character and made her in to an immature schoolgirl (when she’s literally one of the oldest elves, older than Gil-Galad) is fucking stupid and actually misogynistic. I’m so tired of people taking strong female characters and watering them down to make them into a love interest for the villain or make her a cringy villain too. It’s dumb

So yeah, fuck Rings Of Power for destroying canon and destroying Galadriel’s character, fuck those Sauron/Galadriel shippers for being weird, and fuck you for taking a comforting, platonic relationship ship between two characters who have both been through a lot of shit and romanticizing it.

Also, fuck you for erasing Celebrian. I know you probably can’t comphrehend a female character being great without a sword in her hand so take that sword and shove it up your ass.

A word of advice, don’t touch the Lord Of The Rings when you clearly do not understand any of the characters, their relationships, or the meaning behind them. Just write your own book at this point with your own characters and leave the beautifully written stories of Tolkien alone.

Oh nooooooooo, did I offend you and your little Nazgûl toys? Did my horrifying act of (gasp) shipping two FICTIONAL characters make you sprint to the safety of the anonymous ask button, cloak fluttering dramatically behind you, so you could deliver this righteous tirade?🥺🥺🥺

Oh, how will I ever recover from being called a middle-aged Colleen Hoover mom by someone who’s clearly more pressed than the One Ring under Sauron’s hand? Truly, I’m shattered.🙄

Better a badass queen than some self-appointed Warden of the Fandom Wastes, skulking around like Gollum clutching your “precious” canon interpretations. Honestly, the only crown you’d ever wear is made of your own insecurities and bad takes, and even that sits crooked because it’s weighed down by all the irrelevant, unsolicited opinions you can’t stop flinging around. At least I’m out here enjoying myself—what’s your excuse?

You’ve got thoughts on the big red letters, do you? How utterly precious. Let me roll out the crimson carpet for you, since it seems they’ve left such a deep impression on your clearly delicate sensibilities. Here, let me give you more big red letters, because I wouldn’t want you to feel deprived of the melodramatic theater you seem so desperate for:

BIG. RED. LETTERS. JUST. FOR. YOU.!!!!

How’s that? Feeling better? Maybe this will soothe whatever irrational rage my formatting has triggered in that oh-so-fragile ego of yours. You’re acting like I personally painted the Eye of Sauron in your living room. Imagine being so pressed over font choices on the internet as well. It’s giving “I’m mad at PowerPoint for existing” energy, and frankly, it’s embarrassing.

You're embarassing yourself honey.

I wrote a reply, but I doubt you have the intelligence to understand it—or to hear it over the sound of your teeth grinding. Don’t worry, though! I hear Nazgûls get special dental benefits under Sauron’s health plan! Might want to book that appointment before the Mouth of Sauron starts mumbling your excuses for you!🦷🦷🦷

[TW: long salty rant]

First of all, if you’re so confident in your opinions, why are you skulking in my inbox as ANON, like Gollum trying to steal his precious back?

If you’re going to talk big about media literacy and "ruined characters," at least have the courage to do it without hiding behind the shadowy safety net of anonymity. You don’t sound like a defender of Tolkien’s legacy.

You sound like someone who got rejected by the Council of Elrond and has been bitter about it ever since.

Second, your entire rant reeks of irony. You complain about media literacy while writing paragraphs of projection, completely ignoring that this is fan content.

FAN. CONTENT.

You know, the space where people explore different interpretations and tell stories that resonate with them? Oh, but no! We must all bow to your singular, unyielding interpretation of Tolkien’s work, or else risk being smote upon the mountains of your judgment! Get over yourself. Seriously.

The best part? You’re mad about me "ruining" Galadriel and Elrond’s "comforting" dynamic by exploring a different take, but in the same breath, you’re tearing down Rings of Power Galadriel for being "immature" and "cringy." Sweetheart, pick a lane. You’re out here defending canon while also trashing it—what is this, the mental gymnastics World Championships? I have to say, your flexibility is impressive, careful of pulled muscles.

And so I have a sword up my what now?

Oh, my dear anonymous bard of bitterness, that’s quite the reach for someone who’s clearly got a scroll of the Silmarillion shoved so far up their ass that they probably recite Quenya conjugations in their sleep.

What’s next? Are you going to accuse me of erasing Melian because I didn’t write her into my Elrond and Galadriel fic either? Or maybe I’ll get yelled at for not including Bill the Pony in a Kingsman AU (he will be besties, don't worry)?

Let me make this very clear for you, Elvish Choir Master of Overreach, Herald of the Screeching Essay, Defender of the Lore That Nobody Asked You to Protect, Wielder of the All-Caps Argument, and Keeper of the Scroll That’s Shoved So Far Up Your Ass You Probably Quote “Ainulindalë” When Ordering Your Morning Coffee (truly, your titles grow longer than Treebeard’s introductions, yet none of them seem to include “Maker of a Valid Point.”!")-

Celebrian is not missing because I "don’t comprehend strong female characters without swords." She’s missing because, brace yourself, not every single piece of fanfiction has to feature every single character from Tolkien’s works.

Shocking, I know. Truly, I can hear the Valar themselves weeping at this revelation.

But here’s the thing: I’m not writing a Celebrian-centric fic. And you know what? That’s okay. You can unclench now.

Let’s really talk about your oh-so-bold suggestion to shove a sword somewhere for a sec. That’s your masterstroke? That’s the hill you’re dying on?

If we’re being honest, your insult is so dull it wouldn’t cut through soft butter on a sunny day, let alone make me flinch. Sting is officially handing in its resignation because it’s mortified to even share a sentence with you. You’re out here acting like you’ve got the sharpest blade in the Shire, but all I see is someone frantically flailing with a broken spoon.

And then there’s this laughable attempt at moral superiority. You’re swinging around words like you’re a defender of Middle-earth itself, valiantly protecting Tolkien’s legacy, when in reality, your argument is about as sturdy as a sandcastle at Helm’s Deep. You’re not a warrior—you’re the Mouth of Sauron after a bad day, spewing nonsense and hoping someone will think it’s profound. Newsflash: it’s not.

Let’s be clear: your little temper tantrum reeks of someone who just discovered the caps lock button, a bunch of adult words and decided to let it do all the heavy lifting.

I’ve seen hobbits throw better shade after three pints of ale.

You’re no mighty protector of canon—you’re just another basement-dwelling troll who thinks yelling loud enough will make people take you seriously.

And your sword suggestion? I’d recommend you point that creative energy inward, maybe use it to figure out how to construct an actual argument instead of regurgitating clichés you probably heard from your "leader" of choice in your private toxic fandom echo chamber. Don’t worry, though—I doubt you’ll hear any of this over the sound of your teeth grinding or the faint whistle of your Nazgûl screech echoing through your mom’s basement.

Maybe take a break, Denethor—chew on a tomato or two, cry into your cloak, and try again when you’ve leveled up from hobbit insult level: preschool.

Honestly, you’re not even mad about Celebrian being “erased.” You’re mad because I dared to write something that doesn’t align with your precious headcanons. And instead of just scrolling past, you decided to play Tolkienquisitor in my inbox, as if you’ve been personally tasked by Eru Ilúvatar to uphold canon.

I'm sorry (no) to break it to you but nobody crowned you King (or Queen) of Arda.

Not every single piece of fanfiction needs to involve every canon character just to meet your Tolkien purity test. If that’s a requirement, maybe you should write the fic. Oh wait....- you’re too busy spamming inboxes with this unhinged bullshit. My bad.

Here’s the thing, Bearer of Misplaced Rage: nobody asked for your unsolicited essay about the sanctity of Celebrian. But please, do continue climbing the Tower of Tolkien Purism like you’re on some holy quest. Maybe at the top, you’ll find the self-awareness you so desperately lack—or perhaps just a mirror to reflect your ridiculousness back at you.

You wanna talk about erasing characters? Fine.

Let’s talk about how you erased common decency, social awareness, and basic literacy by barging into my inbox with this drivel. The lorebros tirades and scroll-up-the-ass syndrome are bad enough, but now you’re out here flinging insults like “shove a sword up your ass” as if you just invented edgy. Sweetheart, that’s not edgy—that’s the kind of thing a D-list internet troll would type before running out of Wi-Fi.

So, let me leave you with this, oh Guardian of the Fanfic Gates: the next time you feel compelled to compose another Screed of the Self-Righteous, maybe take a moment to ask yourself, “Does this make me sound like a reasonable human being, or just a Balrog throwing a temper tantrum in a lava pit?” Because right now, I’d wager Smaug hoarding gold has more chill than you do.

And let’s not even start with your hilariously misplaced outrage about me shipping Elrond and Galadriel while we both apparently agree that Saurondriel is not our cup of tea. You’re yelling into the void about something I never even said or supported. Congratulations! You’ve officially argued against a strawman!

Here’s your Orcish participation trophy!

Thank you, Supreme Chancellor of Canon Policing, Overseer of the One True Interpretation, and Gatekeeper Extraordinaire of Tolkien’s Sacred Scrolls. I am truly humbled to be graced with your unsolicited advice, delivered with the self-importance of someone who thinks they’re the Mouth of Sauron but comes off more like Gollum arguing with his own reflection. Truly, I don’t know what I’d do without such pearls of wisdom.

But let me give you a word of advice, oh Lore Purist in Chief, President of the Fanfiction Police Union, and Guardian of the Shire’s Moral High Ground: I will touch Tolkien’s world, twist it, flip it like a pancake, and build something entirely new on top of it because guess what?

I’ve already done it.

And I’ll do it again.

And the best part? I don’t give a single, solitary fuck about your opinions, your outrage, or your sad little attempts to gatekeep Middle-earth like it’s your family heirloom.

You think your tired, sanctimonious “write your own book” line is a gotcha? Sweetheart, I already have. Several, in fact. And guess what? I’ll write more—more stories, more ships, more reinterpretations—and there’s nothing you can do but sit there in your self-proclaimed Chair of Canonical Superiority, furiously typing out essays that no one but you cares about. Go on, keep clutching your pearls and scribbling your fanfic hate manifestos, but let me promise you something: I’m not stopping. Ever.

It’s honestly adorable that you think your little decree will somehow shame me into putting my pen down. What next? You gonna summon the Valar to smite me for daring to reinterpret a fictional world?

Send an eagle my way, please—I’ll need it to carry all the fucks I don’t give about your opinion.

And let me be clear, Warden of Tolkien’s Spirit: your outrage is just fuel for my creative fire. Every time you whine, I just want to write more. So congrats, you’re officially my muse now, Pontiff of Perpetual Fan Rage!

You know what’s truly laughable? Your holier-than-thou act of pretending you’re the sole arbiter of what Tolkien “meant.” Tolkien’s works are complex, layered, and ripe for reinterpretation—that’s the beauty of storytelling. But no, you’ve decided you’re The Chosen One who understands it all, while the rest of us mere mortals stumble around in the dark.

Honey, if you’re the shining beacon of understanding, I’d rather take my chances in Moria without a light.

So, High Inquisitor of Gatekeeping™, continue shouting into the void, continue crying about my creative choices, and continue being mad about fanfiction. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here doing exactly what you hate: writing more, creating more, and caring less about your irrelevant opinions.

Go back to your dark little corner of Middle-earth, chewing on your bones—or was it cherry tomatoes this time?—and maybe weep dramatically about how "nobody understands your self-proclaimed brilliance". Honestly, your energy is giving less "Steward of Gondor" and more "Steward of Mom’s Basement."

Do you light a big, dramatic bonfire every time someone disagrees with you, or do you just sulk under the glow of your monitor, waiting for someone to tag your ship so you can descend like a Nazgûl in a hissy fit?

You’re out here acting like you’re defending Tolkien’s honor, but let’s be real—you’re just pressed that not everyone worships at the altar of your very specific, incredibly narrow, terminally boring interpretation of his works. It’s okay, really. We get it. You’ve been sitting there so long with that “scroll of canon” shoved up your ass that you’ve convinced yourself you’re a scholar.

Spoiler alert: you’re not. You’re just the guy crying into a bowl of instant noodles, mad that someone dared to take creative liberties with a fictional story.

To my knowledge, the Tolkien Estate is NOT sending you a paycheck to defend their lore. You’re not a martyr. You’re not a scholar. You’re not even the fun kind of fan who shares cool lore facts. You’re just the guy screaming, “That’s not canon!” into the void while the rest of us are out here enjoying our fandom like adults.

Here’s a thought: maybe instead of crying about other people’s ships, you could take that energy and, I don’t know, apply it to something useful. Learn Elvish. Build a model of Barad-dûr out of your tears. Or maybe, just maybe, stop weeping over cherry tomatoes and touch some grass. I hear the Shire has a lot of it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have characters to write, ships to build, and a very long scroll of I don’t care to finish signing. Good day, Esteemed Minister of Misguided Rage.

Morning people! It's just above 8am but a Lorebro called (screamed)! XD

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[prncssie]

just saw a post of someone saying black writers should stop writing black readers bc they make them “ghetto” and stereotyped them. opened the comments to see someone else complaining about making the reader a “bimbo” and liking pink and they said they don’t even like pink like that . . .

YOU might not but the person who actually put in the work to write it did. where did we get this entitlement that people are writing what other people like with no regard to themselves?? bc the fact that someone sees a problem with a writer writing a bimbo pink-loving black mc or even a “ghetto” black mc is a problem. if you don’t like it then you obviously aren’t the target audience babe… that’s it. if you don’t like it don’t read it plain and simple. it’s the internet you have the ability to scroll. this whole discourse about what other black people are writing is dumb. unless it’s hurting someone, stop policing what people decide to put out there. if I want to write a reader w blue hair, ten cats, and five horses i’m going to do that bc i want to and either you read it or you don’t.

as a black person, hating on other black people bc they don’t write the content you want to see is sad. okay you’re upset bc you can’t find what you want but if that’s the case then look harder?? it’s no one’s fault bc it’s not an issue. you’re just making it one. bc a writer doesn’t write what you want and the “soft life” you want, they deserve to get stereotyped? by ANOTHER BLACK PERSON? absolutely not. i don’t like those style of fics w a strong and independent black mc so i don’t read them and i definitely don’t go out and call them ghetto.

idk ik ts didn’t deserve a whole paper on it but it’s gross and i’m tired of seeing it. it’s literally the internet. if you throw a tantrum every time you come across something you don’t like on the fucking internet, get off it. ts pisses me off bc it’s the same shit every time. if you don’t like it don’t read and find something you like. can’t find what you like? write it or cry about it but the unnecessary hate has gotta stop.

[licnheartedd]

once again having thoughts i cannot share about how a lot of fic writers talk about kidnapping

[herebecritters]

Please understand that, more often than not, works of fiction are a fictional exploration of concepts and ideas rather than a declaration of morality

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

you people need to START PUTTING FICS BEHIND A FUCKING READ MORE if you are posting them in public tags we LIVE IN A SOCIETY it is so goddamn rude. it is the internet equivalent of listening to music without headphones. It’s just a common fucking courtesy. I dont want to have to scroll on my phone past 1500k+ words over multiple paragraphs. 500 words without a read more MAXIMUM. AT LEAST YOU COULD TAG IT AS A LONG POST. There’s no excuse anymore if you’re on mobile it allows you to put in a read more cut!! Jesus fucking Christ. Were you raised in a barn. I’ve given up on the whole ‘it’s tacky to tag non-involved characters in a post’ crusade that used to be an internet rule but i am not backing down on this one. Are you youth not also almost entirely phone only as well. What is wrong with you guys. Got damn.

[mabaris]

I know it’s probably just my age and I’m Too Young To Possibly Get It and You Had To Be There but I’ve always kinda rolled my eyes whenever people talk about how joss whedon was some titan of nerd media and everyone loved his work

avengers came out when I was 13 and I thought that was. all right. at the time, everyone on the internet was nostalgic for firefly, so I watched that and found it extremely underwhelming, and wasn’t interested in seeking out more of that writing. but it is inescapable huh

[starlooove]

“There is no fanfic on Stephs treatment I have checked” that’s like the whole point.