#i got them not last year but the year before

[slimepuparibaba]

caleb had a nickname in the DAA and it was "guard dog"

not because he was super on the lookout for anything or alert, nonono, that's not how nicknames work

it was all because of how much caleb talked about his pip-squeak and how much he loves his pip-squeak and how he literally only had eyes for his pip-squeak, bro would even wait by the fucking lobby the moment he heard you were coming to visit like a goddamn dog. when you visited, he'd follow you around, never leave your side, and then glare at people that came even close to you without you noticing.

one time he was so drunk off his ass that his roommates teased him about how cute she was and he barked at them because "she's his" and "back off, she's mine". because guard dogs bark at enemies for being on their territory. and then he threatened to tear them apart limb from limb if they ever thought of getting close, before crying because he "misses his pip-squeak" and "why is she so far away? i want to go home, i hate it here", like a dog homesick away from his master.

and then one time while he was out waiting for training to start, they saw him fucking DOOMSCROLLING through your Moments, and then he just murmured "oh she's at [INSERT VERY SPECIFIC LOCATION HERE]" and they all were terrified at his precision. like they asked him "how do you know" and he pointed out EVERY FUCKING MINUTE DETAIL. INCLUDING THE REFLECTIONS IN YOUR EYES.

IT GOT WORSE CUZ HE WOULD NOTICE EVERY MINUTE DETAIL IN YOUR MOMENTS TAB, BE LIKE "she hasn't eaten yet today, she didn't post her meal like she normally would" OR "she's out with someone else, I can see a shadow on the other side of the table that's too close to be a waiter--" LIKE BUDDY, THATS TOO FUCKING PERCEPTIVE

but then Caleb, post-explosion, years later tells you "yeah, I got called Guard Dog because of how perceptive I was and how well I was at protecting my team", only for Gideon to go "no the fuck he wasn't, it was because—" and then Caleb obliterated Gideon from existence.

Gideon claims he did it because "the truth of the obsessive guard dog of the DAA must be passed on and you are one of the last people who will carry his legacy" AHAHAHAHAHA

[kyri45]

A final letter

Hello Everyone!

The queue is paused and everything is scheduled, which means we are ready for the finale!

I know that, in the end, this was just a silly side project for me, with everything else going on in my life. But for this occasion, I wanted to drop some words here and hope they make sense.

I started watching LMK only because a friend told me there was a "Sonadow-coded" ship. I ended up consuming the entire thing in one sitting on July 10th, 2024. At the time, I was still recovering from a bike accident that had left me with a broken right forearm—unable to draw for a little over a month. (I did try drawing with my left finger, but it wasn't exactly fun.)

Not only that, but it was summer, and I couldn’t enjoy the season or practice my main sport, windsurfing. To say I was feeling the blues is an understatement. I remember being in physical pain just from not being able to draw my sillies. But then, watching LMK did something to my brain chemistry that my little undiagnosed autistic self had never experienced before. It hit so hard that I’ve been physically unable to rewatch the show SINCE that very first day. (And y’all still call me the CEO of this fandom. Bro, I just work here.)

A lot of you have asked what inspired me to start this comic or to draw LMK fan art in the first place. While my usual answer is, "I saw Shadowpeach and thought MK could be their lovechild, given his appearance," the moment that actually started it all was THIS ONE—

(I HAD TO REWATCH THIS SCENE TO MAKE THE GIF AND IT HURT ME ON A MOLECOLAR LEVEL)

I have… a thing for characters who discover their entire identity was something else all along. It consumes my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment. I live for identity crises, for characters who thought they knew who they were, only to be forced to rediscover themselves, their existence, and their place in the world. If you give me a story where a character has to go through that, I will like it—regardless of how bad the rest of the story is.

Pair that with loads of trauma, daddy issues, the pressure of a legacy, and world-ending stakes, and congrats! Now I’m obsessed, and I will not stop thinking about it for the rest of my days!

At first, my brain just wanted to release some of that energy with a small, four-panel post about the monkeys discovering that MK was technically their kid.

That was supposed to be it.

But since I never seem to learn my lesson, it didn’t stay like that. Because once I started drawing, I just... continued.

And

I

never

stopped.

A lot of you have also asked how I found the motivation to draw so much, to never take a break. Well, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it one last time: I am my number one fan. No matter how much you laughed, cried, screamed, or went feral over this story, I did all of that and more. Because I got to think about the chapters months before they released. I got to daydream about them. I got to watch them come to life—first through sketches, then line art, then dialogue. And finally, I got to witness your reactions and see the incredible creations you made, inspired by my story.

So yeah, in a way, it was almost an addiction. A good addiction. Because, for the first time in my life, I actually understood what loving art means.

I’ve been drawing for ten years, working professionally for five, but I never loved art before. I just liked it because I happened to be good at it. But creating this comic made me understand why artists say, "Oh, I’ve loved drawing since I was a child!" This was the first time I allowed myself to create purely for my own enjoyment. Something I hadn’t had the privilege to do for a long time.

Other than making me feel even more single than I already was, this story somehow also helped me a little with my own family relationships. So yeah. Crazy how the gay monkeys changed my life.

Of course, I never could have predicted how much traction my AU would gain. Man, y’all were really starving to latch onto something this silly. /j

But yeah—thank you. Thank you for sticking around until the end, for having the patience and trust to follow the story even when I made you rage with angst and cliffhangers. (The statement in my bio still stands: I am not responsible for any physical or emotional damage my art has caused.)

I’m absolutely shit at thanking people, or at writing, or at talking in general, honestly. I’m the furthest thing from being good with words, so I hope the final chapter will be enough to show you my gratitude.

Through this story, I met so many wonderful, talented people. I watched as fans across different platforms found each other through memes and fanart of the AU. I saw artists start their own AUs inspired by mine, growing their own communities. I witnessed an explosion of creativity and collaboration through our takeovers. And I laughed along with you all.

And yeah—at its core, this story has always been about love. Whether it’s platonic, sibling, parental, romantic, or whatever the hell Mac and Wukong had going on for millennia.

At its heart, it’s a story about family.

And maybe, in the end… the real family wasn’t just the one in the comic, but the one we’ve found together along the way. 💛

See you all at the finale.

Love you all, freaks /affectionate

Jade

[inkandapex]

racing heart

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary : Y/N is determined to prove she’s got the skills to take on Lando’s karting challenge, but Lando’s protective instincts go into overdrive. Despite her insistence that she’s fine, Lando can’t help but fuss over every little detail, from her seatbelt to her speed, unable to hide his concern.

Words : 2.1k

Warnings : some swearing, small crash.

— (tbh I wrote this one half-asleep, not my favourite but here you guys go!)

As soon as Y/N watched Quadrant’s new video with Keegan Palmer, she was immediately determined to try the challenge herself. Almost without fail, she’d been pestering Lando to let her have a go. But ever the protective boyfriend, Lando wasn’t so easily convinced.

The four sat around the table, waiting for their lunch to arrive—Max and Lando deep in their own conversation, while Pietra and Y/N chatted away. It wasn’t until Pietra reached over to grab Max’s hand, catching his attention, that the table suddenly fell silent.

“Y/N has a question for you,” Pietra starts, a grin already spreading across her face.

“Oh, here we go,” Lando sighs, reaching for his glass to take a sip, already knowing exactly what’s coming.

“What?” Max asks, confusion written all over his face as he glances between his girlfriend, his friend, and Y/N—all of whom are wearing entirely different expressions.

Lando sets his glass down with a knowing look. “She’s about to try and get you on board with letting her do the karting challenge we did with Keegan.”

"That sounds sick actually—"

“Right?!” Y/N interrupts excitedly, eyes practically glowing with joy.

“No,” Lando says firmly, shaking his head.

“Mate, we’ve gone karting with Y/N before,” Max points out.

“Yeah, indoors—and those karts weren’t that fast,” Lando argues, trying to reason with him.

“Lan, please, it looks so fun,” Y/N pleads, leaning in.

“Baby, no—”

“Lando, you go over 200 miles per hour, and Y/N never says a word about it,” Pietra cuts in, backing her friend up without hesitation.

“That’s different, P… Max wouldn’t let you do it either,” Lando huffs, turning to Max for support.

“I would, actually.”

“Lando, please,” Y/N presses, eyes wide with excitement. “You and Max would be there to teach me! I’ll be safe, I promise. We can even—”

“—Fine! Fine, alright,” Lando finally caves, running a hand through his hair, already regretting his decision.

“We’re filming this, right?” Max smirks, barely holding back his laughter.

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

At the same track where they did the last challenge, Max holds the camera, zooming in on his friends standing near the circuit. Both Y/N and Lando are dressed in fireproofs, helmets in hand. Lando gestures animatedly as he talks, the mic picking up his voice as he explains the racing lines and braking points to Y/N, who listens intently.

Max moves closer, camera still in hand, ready for a quick interview. “How you feelin’, Y/N?”

Y/N turns to the camera with a big grin, giving a small wave. “So excited.”

“Lando?” Max pans to his friend.

“I’m gonna shit myself”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Baby, you’re a walking hazard.”

“That’s true, actually.” Max briefly turns the camera on himself, giving a small nod of agreement.

“Guys—no, remember Silverstone last year?” Lando points accusingly. “Y/N showed up with her arm in a sling because she missed the bed while trying to jump onto it and landed straight on her shoulder.”

"That's different—"

“—Alright! So you already know what’s about to happen,” Max says, handing off the camera before stepping between his two friends, slinging an arm around each of them. “Lando’s gonna set a lap time, and Y/N will get a shot with different karts—one faster than the other to see if she can beat him.”

The camera zooms in on Lando’s face, his expression a mix of nerves and dread, clearly uncomfortable.

“Mate, you look ill.”

“I will be after this,” Lando chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“She’ll be fine. C’mon, go ahead. We’ll be up there watching,” Max laughs, giving his friend a pat on the back. “I’ll make sure to give her tips as you go.”

"Oi, excuse me? Hold on a minute! Where's my kiss?" Lando pouts, feigning offense. "I can’t believe you’re not being sweeter to me after I agreed to do this."

Y/N halts, throwing her head back and laughing. "Sorry! Just really excited." She jogs back towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Have fun, be safe."

You could almost see Lando's body relax—maybe for the first time all day—as he holds her face with his free hand and gives her a soft kiss. "You're lucky I love you," he mutters against her lips. "Go on then, let me get the job done." He chuckles, ruffling her hair before turning to walk toward the kart.

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

As Lando takes his warm-up lap, Y/N can be seen sitting beside Max, listening intently as he gives her pointers. Max talks her through the track, explaining the braking points and the tricky corners she needs to watch out for, doing his best to guide her through every detail. Y/N nods along, fully focused, ready to take on the challenge.

"Unbelievable” Max muttered with a scoff.

“What?” Y/N, concerned, turned to Max.

“He’s going slow on purpose.”

“No way…”

“He’s already two seconds behind the lap time he set last time we did the challenge.”

“He clearly doesn’t want me on the faster karts then” Y/N slouched in her seat, deflated.

Max nodded, grabbing his radio to speak to Lando. “Mate, you have to do one more. The clock wasn’t working properly, sorry.”

“Copy,” Lando replied, completely unaware that his girlfriend and best friend had caught on to his little trick.

Lando took one more lap, and it was even slower than the previous three. The two of them walked over to the track to greet him.

“How was that?” Lando asked, pulling off his helmet with a grin.

“Yeah, no, mate—no chance,” Max said, shaking his head. “You were going slow on purpose.”

"No I wasn't!" Lando immediately shouts in defense

"I'm setting the lap time," Max says, handing over the stopwatch to Lando before heading back into the building to grab his own helmet.

Y/N stands with her arms crossed, staring at her boyfriend with a look of clear disapproval.

"Oh, come on, baby," Lando chuckles softly, stepping toward her and pulling her into his arms. "You can’t be mad at me."

Just then, Max walks back out, helmet on, heading toward the kart. "Alright, lovebirds, enough with the mushy stuff," he teases with a grin.

"Max I swear—"

Y/N tugs on Lando's arm, dragging him to where her and Max were previously sat, leaving Max to get to his kart "Goodluck Maxie! Fast and safe yeah?"

"Always"

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

As expected, Max set a solid lap time, one that left both Lando and Y/N chasing after it. The three of them were all significantly faster than any of Lando's previous attempts, creating the perfect challenge for Y/N to take on and hopefully beat.

The scene cuts to the three of them back on track, with Max standing off to the side, a sheepish grin on his face as he watches Lando double, triple, and maybe even quadruple-check every little thing while Y/N sits in the kart.

"Mate, at this point, you’ve checked her seatbelt so many times, I’m pretty sure it’s been inspected more than your car before a race," Max laughs, shaking his head. "You planning to give her a full service next?"

Lando lets out a sigh. "Hey, better safe than sorry," he says, tugging on the straps for what feels like the hundredth time.

Max chuckles. "At this rate, she’s gonna need a nap after all your—"

Y/N, fully embracing the teasing, drops her head forward and lets out exaggerated snoring noises. "Oh— and she's down," Max laughs, enjoying the moment.

Lando rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his focus not breaking as he checks the brakes one last time. He leans in to gently lift her head, making sure she looks at him.

"Don’t push yourself beyond what you're comfortable with," he says, his tone serious but soft. "If at any point you want to stop, just let us know. And if anything feels off—"

"I know, baby," Y/N interrupts with a playful smile, brushing him off. "I’ll be fine. You worry too much."

Lando gives her a soft smile before planting a quick kiss on the top of her helmet, then gives her a light tap on the side before starting her kart.

"Okay, let’s go, lover boy. Drive fast, Y/N!" Max teases, already dragging Lando off the track.

"I will!" Y/N calls back, already revving the engine.

Lando pauses, his voice rising as he watches her take off. "Safely, baby, please! Drive safely!" He shouts after her, hands still hovering nervously at his sides.

Max smirks. "You're really gonna keep yelling at her like that from the sidelines?"

"I've only got one of her, I’ve got the right to worry," Lando mutters, but a smile creeps onto his face.

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

The challenge was going smoothly, with Y/N only a couple of seconds off the target lap time on her first attempt. By her third kart, she finally beat it by just tenths of a second. However, that didn’t stop her from wanting to try out the fastest kart they had available, much to Lando’s frustration.

"Baby, you’re already faster than the rest of us. Why do you need to go any faster?" Lando groans, running a hand through his hair as she approaches the kart.

Y/N grins mischievously, her competitive spirit clearly not satisfied yet. "Because I can. Besides, I’m just warming up," she teases, hopping into the sleek, speedier kart.

The first lap went perfectly, with Y/N letting out shouts of joy as she sped through the track. Lando and Max watched from the sidelines, impressed by how well she was handling the kart, both commenting on how fast and smooth she was. However, by the fourth turn of her second lap, they began to notice a change. Y/N’s arms were starting to give out. She was struggling to keep the kart under control, her once-smooth movements becoming more jerky with each turn.

Lando immediately grabs the radio, his voice laced with concern. "Y/N, love, you’ve gotta slow down now, alright? Your arms are giving out a little, you’re gonna go off track."

Lando watches anxiously, his fingers gripping the radio tightly, waiting for her response. Before he can radio her again, he sees Y/N miss the braking point, her kart spinning out and slamming into one of the barriers on the turn.

Both Lando and Max jolt up from their seats, the panic flashing in their eyes. Lando grabs the radio and bolts down the track, Max following closely behind. Their feet pound against the ground as they rush toward where she’s spun out.

"I'm okay. Just dizzy from the spin," Y/N's voice crackles through the radio, making Max stop in his tracks and squat down on the spot, letting out a relieved breath.

Lando, however, doesn’t slow down. He keeps sprinting toward where she’s stopped, his heart racing as he sees her starting to get out of the kart.

Max, noticing her movement, immediately grabs the radio. "Hey— no. Y/N, slow down. Wait ‘til we get to you. Lando's nearly there, sit tight."

Lando’s feet hit the track faster, his worry growing with every step as he sees Y/N trying to move. He reaches her in no time, dropping to his knees beside her. With quick, precise movements, he removes her helmet, immediately inspecting her for any signs of injury.

"What's hurting? Are you okay? What hurts?" His voice is frantic, eyes scanning her for any sign of damage.

Y/N shakes her head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Lan... I'm okay. It wasn’t that bad, really. Just felt like a soft bump to the side. I’m feeling peachy, I promise. Just... embarrassed is all," she admits, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Fuck me... Right, we're done for today. C’mon." Lando pulls her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before gently helping her out of the kart.

Max, still out of breath, finally catches up to them. "You good, Y/N?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Still in one piece," Y/N laughs, giving a thumbs-up, earning a facepalm from Lando.

"That looked really bad from where we were," Max says, looking at the kart, then back at her with concern still lingering in his eyes.

Lando shoots him a look. "Yeah, thanks for the commentary, Max. We’re all fine now, though." He turns his attention back to Y/N, making sure she’s steady on her feet. "Let’s get you checked out properly, just in case."

The three make their way back to the building, with Lando softly checking in on Y/N, making sure she’s still feeling alright after the spin. Their light chatter fills the air as Max trails behind, looking at the pair with a sheepish grin.

"So, uh... we’re keeping this on the video, right?" Max asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lando glances over at him "You muppet"

Y/N smirks, giving Max a playful nudge. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind. They live for drama."

Lando groans, but a grin tugs at his lips. "You're both impossible."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Miracle IV

Aitana Bonmatí x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're up late

You're up in the attic when Aitana gets home.

That usually isn't a problem.

It's where you usually retreat to after school. You come in, say good afternoon to Aitana if she's in, eat a snack and immediately go up into the attic.

You've become a bit more sullen now that your friends are busy.

Conejita has entered the work force now, working at some florist in town, a few hours away from the little house Aitana bought so you rarely see Marta and Caro's daughter during the week.

Skatt is studying at some top rated school in Norway, drowning herself in her studies of bugs while Ingrid and Mapi fight to get her to go outside and see the sun.

You're still in school though. In all advanced classes, of course, but still school aged and catching the bus to the fancy school that Aitana is paying an extortionate fee to send you to.

You've withdrawn a little now that it's just you and her, disappearing up into the attic to study your star charts and maps and wait long enough for the sun to dip in the sky so you can use the telescope you spent all of last year saving up to buy.

Aitana doesn't have a problem with that.

You're a certified genius and sometimes you need alone time.

What she has a problem with is you being stuck up in the attic when she gets home from an event at gone three in the morning.

The ladder creaks under her feet as she hauls herself up through the hole in the ceiling, head popping up to see you sitting at the desk, documents in hand with your telescope set up through the skylight.

"It's late."

You jolt, dropping the papers in your hand and covering them with your star maps.

You spin in your chair, clutching at your chest.

"Mama," You say," You scared me."

"You should be in bed," Aitana continues, coming to stand in front of you," You've got school tomorrow."

You look away from her with an eye roll.

"We both know I don't need much sleep for school. You always say I'm intelligent."

You've been told you're intelligent for most of your life, a clear superstar in academics since your first year of school and you could already read and write and do simple multiplication and division.

You'd been streamlined into the most academic of classes and if it wasn't for Aitana insisting that you stay with your year group, you'd already be away at university.

"You still need rest," Aitana reminds you," And to rest your brain."

She cards her fingers through the loose strands of hair framing your face.

You're her mirror image in every way, the same eyes and nose and hair.

Aitana wonders briefly if she was ever this aloof with her own parents at your age and if she owes them apologies for it.

"Go to sleep, estrella," She says," We can talk more tomorrow."

You huff, pulling out of her grip and turning back to your maps.

They cover all the walls in the attic, completed and signed at the bottom with your name.

Aitana looks down at the ones on your desk, the ones not yet completed or not yet perfect enough for you to display on the walls of your little sanctuary.

Something peaks out from under one of them and she frowns.

She's already pulled it out before you've even noticed.

"Where did you get this?"

Aitana's voice is stern, one that you're not all too familiar.

You freeze, eyes wide in alarm.

You reach for the documents. Aitana holds them away from you.

"Where did you get this?" She demands again and you scoff.

"In the safe. Under your bed."

"You broke into the safe?!"

You roll your eyes. "It's not the most secure of passwords. Our birthdays? Please, it was easy."

"Drop the attitude!" Aitana snaps," Why were you rummaging around in there?!"

You stand up from your desk.

Neither of you are overwhelmingly tall but even at sixteen, you meet her height so you're eye to eye.

"They're mine!" You say and Aitana laughs.

"I think you'll find they're mine," She says," You certainly didn't sign them."

"Well they're my adoption papers! I deserved to see what they say!"

Aitana sighs, rubbing her temples. "Then you come to me! You don't go snooping around in my bedroom."

You huff, finally breaking eye contact to stare out of the skylight. "As if you'd tell me anything." You shove past Aitana, barging her shoulder on your way to the ladder," You never want to talk about them."

"Well, forgive me for not wanting to talk about my dead friends."

"Forgive me for waiting to know about my dead parents."

Aitana holds your gaze for a moment.

You're already halfway down the ladder, staring back at her with identical eyes.

The wound is still raw even though it happened sixteen years ago. The loss of her friends still weighs heavy. Aitana doesn't even know if she could look at you if you held even one feature of your parents.

"Estrella-"

"I'm going to bed," You cut her off," We'll talk in the morning."

[doliumpraedonum]

When the pandemic started I did a lot of escapist coping in the form of novels. I needed a near constant distraction. When I wasn't sitting down and reading, I was listening to audiobooks. When audiobooks couldn't take the edge of my anxious thoughts, I upped the narration speed, which forced me to focus more intently on what was being said and quieted my mind.

When I got into grad school the books remained a comfort. I read a book over my morning coffee, audio books walking my dog and biking to class, read a handful of chapters before bed, audiobook to lull me to sleep. I read 120-160 books per year, for YEARS. I recognize it probably wasn't healthy, but it wasn't hurting anyone and everyone in my circle loved that they could get book recs or yell about what they'd just read, because chances were good I'd read it too.

After I passed my certification exams, my brain was broken. I'd spent thousands of dollars and thousands of hours in this grueling, miserable process and was FINALLY done. All I wanted was something soothing and familiar and low-stakes. My brain wanted fanfiction. I hadn't engaged with fandom in years, but I was helpless to resist giving my exhausted mind what it wanted.

The first fanfiction I read was better than 85% of the novels I'd read in the last five years.

It was better paced, more well written, it had more humor and more emotion and more joy than so many of the published books I'd engaged with so deeply. I couldn't believe it.

Fanfic writers are a treasure, I will love and defend them forever. Fanfic taught me how to write a compelling story, and a lot of my current favorite authors similarly cut their teeth on fanfiction. It's a wonderful thing 💖

fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - Part 3 - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

Part 1 Part 2 Master List

warnings: nothing. this entire series is going to be pretty fluffy so :) I do say the word ‘papaya’ a concerning amount though 😂 (a note: as per usual, kudos to @lestapiastrisgirl for always answering my 2am ‘SO HEAR ME OUT’s and ‘BUT WHAT IF WE’s’ ❤️) pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 3.7k

story replies: lando lord have MERCY >>>yourusername 🤭 hannahstjohn god we're cute >>>yourusername <3 thank you for being there for me, my love. >>>hannahstjohn i'm so happy you're happy and you are gloooowing today, btw >>>yourusername i've got butterflies han! HE gives me butterflies and i have no idea what i'm doing but oh my god. >>>hannahstjohn thats how it felt with liam. it happened quick but it happed hard >>>yourusername i'm in so much trouble >>>hannahstjohn :)))

The morning of the sprit race starts off almost identically as the day before: you and Hannah arriving at the track together an hour or so behind Liam, the noise and crowds of the paddock overwhelming you once again the moment you scan your badge at the gate. 

“All I’m saying is, I’m quite impressed with him. I didn’t know Lando could be such a…gentleman.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief, tone teasing you. 

You shoot her a look, already regretting the fact that you had told how how last night had ended. “He was nervous, okay?” You say with a laugh, closing your eyes as you shake your head. 

The chemistry between you two had been undeniable during dinner and after, he had offered to walk you back to your room. Tension sparked in the elevator as you waited for Lando to make a move. His shoulder brushed yours, fingertips barely grazing your lower back when the doors slid open to allow you off at your floor. You had propped yourself up against the door, room key dangling from your fingers as you looked up at him. 

‘Thank you for dinner’ You had murmured, fluttering your lashes at him in hopes he got the message. 

‘Of course.’ Had been his response as he palmed the back of his neck, shifting his weight as his eyes darted between your lips and back up to meet your gaze. For a moment you had thought he was going to actually kiss you and as he leaned in, your breath hitched in the back of your throat, anticipation buzzing through your veins. 

At the last moment, Lando moved his lips and grazed your cheek instead. The touch had been light, almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be so close to you. You barely bit back the whine in your throat when he pulled away to look at you again. ‘I’ll have McLaren passes waiting for you at the front desk tomorrow morning, okay?” 

You had nodded, brain trying to process what had just not happened. “Okay.” You replied weakly, the spot where his lips had touched your skin burning. 

“Text me when you get to the paddock and I’ll come meet you. Get some sleep, pretty girl.” 

And with that, he had turned around and walked back towards the elevator. 

You had spent the rest of the night analyzing everything with Hannah, trying to figure out what had been going through his head in that moment. 

“I had no idea Lando Norris knew how to be nervous.” Hannah chuckles as you walk through the paddock. You chuckle in response but you know better. The Lando you knew, that Lando was totally different from his public persona. He was quiet and anxious and seemed to get into his head too easily. But that was a side of Lando you were beginning to realize that he didn’t show just anyone and that made you feel all the more special. 

30 feet in front of you, the McLaren hospitality building looms, first in the paddock as a result of their Constructors Championship last year. You spot a certain curly haired Brit leaning against the railing, eyes scanning the crowd underneath a pair of dark sunglasses. Your stomach flips when he raises the glasses, light blue eyes catching your gaze as a half-smile hitches at the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, he’s so down bad for you.” Hannah murmurs at your side and you elbow her with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for the enemy. Liam is devastated.” 

You chuckle, picking up your pace to get to Lando quicker. When you had met Hannah in the lobby this morning, you had asked if she was okay with you spending the day at McLaren. Much to your surprise, Hannah had encouraged you to go. She had seen how Lando had looked at you yesterday, had heard the way you talked about him when you called her for a post-dinner debrief. 

“I think Liam will survive. He’s probably thankful even that he doesn’t have to deal with the pair of us this morning.” 

“You’re probably right.” Hannah agrees just as you two reach McLaren’s hospitality. 

Lando’s been watching you approach for the last several minutes from his perch at the top of the ramp of the large orange building. He still can’t believe he chickened out last night, abandoning his plan for a juvenile kiss on the lips. The truth was, he had been so anxious that he was going to mess this up that he hadn’t wanted to push you to a place where you were uncomfortable. He hadn’t wanted to blow this second chance you had just given him so when it came down to it, a peck on the cheek had seemed the only right thing to do. 

He watches you and Hannah chat, the laugh that spills out of your lips when you get closer sending fiery pleasure skittering over his skin. 

“Morning, Lan.” You singsong, watching at he bounds down the ramp to join you and Hannah on the sidewalk. 

“What are you wearing?” He asks so abruptly for a moment you just blink at him. 

“Okay, so like, let’s agree to never start off a conversation with that ever again, yeah?” 

Beside you, Hannah huffs a laugh. 

Lando rolls his eyes, “You can’t wear navy in my garage!” He protests as if you’re the one missing the point. 

“Lando.” You deadpan, “I think this is the only bit of orange clothing I even own! You’re lucky I just happened to have this in my suitcase!” 

“It’s papaya!” He says with an exaggerated sigh. 

“This shirt has papaya in it!” You point to the thin stripes of orange…papaya…that the predominately navy tank top has all over it. 

Lando frowns before shaking his head. “It’s not enough.” He declares before reaching for your hand. “Come on, we need to fix this before I can take you anywhere.” 

You make an indignant sound as he drags you away from where Hannah stands laughing. “I guess I’ll text you later, H!” You shout over your shoulder. 

“Come to Red Bull for lunch!” She calls after you. 

“She’s eating lunch with me!” Lando yells before dragging you through the sliding glass doors of McLaren’s hospitality. 

You hear the echos of Hannah’s laughter as the doors whisper shut behind you. “Okay, that was rude! I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her!” 

Lando just shrugs, not letting go of your hand, as he pulls you towards a set of stairs just inside the double doors. “We have more important things to take care of and I have to be in the car in a bit.” 

“You are so dramatic.” You huff. 

When Lando doesn’t respond, you take a moment to glance around the first floor of the building he’s dragging you through. There are McLaren employees, all dressed in various amounts of papaya and black, bustling through the space. Some sit at sleek black high top tables, tapping away on computers or eating a snack before they’re pulled to another task. There’s a food counter tucked away in the other corner, laden down with breakfast and lunch foods. On the opposite side are several doors that lead to what you assume are team offices. 

You follow Lando up the stairs, trying to ignore the sideways glances you two are attracting as you quickly walk through the space. There’s several sets of doors on the landing and he pulls you towards an open one with his name tacked up on the wall just outside of it. 

Lando’s drivers room is small, with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and small desk. Light spills in through the three floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the back of the paddock, making the entire space bright and well lit. Lando shuts the door behind him before dropping your hand in favor of opening a closet that’s tucked away in the corner. He digs around for a few moments, mumbling something about how he just knows you’re going to look so good in papaya. 

Finding what he was apparently looking for, he crosses the room to where you stand, arms folded across your chest. “Take that off.” He tugs at your navy cardigan you had grabbed to keep the chill of the morning air off your skin. 

“Lando!” You scold, swatting his arm away when he continues to try to undress you. “At least kiss me before you try to get me naked.” 

The driver freezes, eyes flying up to yours before a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Cheeky.” He murmurs before allowing you to remove the cardigan yourself. 

Tossing the cardigan across the room, Lando pulls a papaya colored hoodie over your head. The first thing you notice is how soft and warm the sweatshirt is but the second thing? The second thing you notice is how is smells. Lando’s cologne, the same woodsy scent that had kept you up last night as it clung to your clothes after your dinner with him. The earthy scent of cedar and something citrusy filled your nose and you can’t help but inhale deeply. 

“Wait, is this the hoodie you wore into the paddock this morning?” 

Lando looks at you like you couldn’t have asked a more obvious question. “Of course?” 

“So people will know it’s yours when they see me in it…” 

Again, Lando gives you a look that seems to say ‘duh, silly girl’. “Exactly. That’s kind of the point, so people know who you belong to.”  

“Belong to?” You arch a brow, managing to keep the tone light even though you suddenly can’t feel your toes. 

“Yep.” He says simply before dropping a kiss onto the tip of your nose. 

The blush that flashes across your cheeks has Lando smirking down at you. His stomach swoops a little at the the way it feels having you standing there in his drivers room wearing his clothing. The possessive streak that winds it’s way through his veins at the sight of you catches him off guard. He’d never really considered himself territorial when it came to relationships but something about the sight of you in his hoodie he had just taken off had his heart pounding.  

Lando’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s pulled away for a moment. While he talks to his performance coach on the phone, you wander over to where your purse sits on the small black leather couch. Your stomach rumbles a bit, reminding you that both Hannah and you had been running so late this morning you’d had to skip breakfast. 

You sink down into the soft couch, pulling out the fruit you’d snagged from the hotel’s grab and go store. Popping open the lid, you stab at a bit of fruit before popping it in your mouth. You’re distracted for a moment, feeling the couch dip beside you as Lando sits down. “Did you bring snacks?” He asks, tugging you towards him so your shoulders are pressed up against each other.

“I brought myself breakfast. I slept in past my alarm this morning because someone wouldn’t stop texting me last night and kept me up past my bedtime so I didn't have time to eat.” 

Lando smirks, enjoying the way you sass him. “I managed to get here on time, my love.” 

You narrow your eyes at him playfully before you take another bite of your breakfast. “Whatever. I’m not sharing.” 

Lando frowns. “Who even said I wanted any of your gross fruit anyway. What even is that…It’s too dark to be a mango.” 

Your grin widens as you realize he has no idea what’s in the cup in your hands. “Lando, it’s a papaya.” 

yourusername posted

yourusername hiya papaya hannahstjohn enemy territory >>>lando joint custody >>>hannahstjohn as long as you pay child support >>>yourusername i can see the calendar invite now: PR meeting with McLaren, 9am Monday >>>lando hahaha fuck off >>>yourusername meetings been moved up to 2pm TODAY!!! >>>user2010 guys, i fear she is hilarious and i am in love user222 wasn't she in red bull yesterday??? >>>user239 this girl is getting around the paddock, isn't she??? jfc user029 the adhd hyperfixation crossover i never knew i needed >>>user483 why did this speak to me on a spiritual level?

The elevator dings, signaling it’s arrival to your floor later that night. Lando had insisted on walking you back to your room after you’d finished dinner with Carlos and Rebecca in the hotel restaurant. 

“Did you have a good time today?” Lando asks quietly, the exhaustion from the activity of the day edging into his voice as you both walk slowly down the empty hallway. 

“I mean, I got to see you make a wild pass on the very last lap to steal the win away from that Ferrari, didn’t I?” You say, bumping your shoulder against his. Grinning, your memory flickers back to the way the garage had exploded when he had dove into the corner with millimeters to spare. You hand’t anticipated how electrifying it would be to watch Lando win but it was an experience you knew you’d never forget. 

Lando’s fingers brush the small of your back as you reach your hotel room. It takes a brief moment for you to find your key and when you turn around to face him fully, you’re surprised at the hungry look in his eyes. 

“That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” He asks, the cocky grin on his face grows as you lean back into the wall, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Now all I need is to see you take a champagne shower tomorrow and the weekend will be complete.” 

Your heart pounds when Lando leans in closer, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath fan out over your cheek. His cologne distracts you, that same woody and citrus smell digging its way under your skin so you’ll forever associate it with him. 

“Is that so?” He murmurs. 

“Yep.” You manage to whisper, trying desperately hard not to give away how flustered he’s got you. 

“Speaking of tomorrow, did you know that I’m a very superstitious person?” Lando shifts almost imperceptibly closer to you.

Your cheeks heat as you struggle to focus on the words that are coming out of his mouth instead of his lips that are so full that you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like being kissed by them. “Is that so?”

Your voice is so embarrassingly breathy Lando nearly laughs. He’s enjoying watching you squirm under the heat of his gaze.

“Mmmhmm” He hums, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.  

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “So, how can I help you with that, sir?” 

The flare in Lando’s eyes at your words is near feral. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and reaches up a hand to turn his black McLaren hat around so the bill is facing backwards. Your knees nearly buckle at the move and you swear you whimper when he braces his arm against the wall, his palm settling inches away from your head. His other hand rests heavily on your hip, squeezing at the flesh there. 

“Sir?” He growls. “Oh I like that.” You blink up at him, suddenly unable to form coherent words. Lando’s lips curl into a satisfied grin. “We’ll come back to that little bit later, though. Let’s discuss how you can help. I’m going to need you in my garage tomorrow because again, superstitious. You’re probably the reason I won today, after all.” 

“Oh? I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on you.” You finally find the words to tease back. 

Lando shifts his weight towards you then, pressing his hips into your body. You feel his unmistakable hardness digging into you, your pupils blowing wide. 

“You have no idea what kind of effect you have on me.” He murmurs into the soft skin at your neck. “Come on, I need my good luck charm cheering me on. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up what could be my first big win of the season, now would you?” 

All you can do is shake your head, once again fully lost to the way Lando is looking at you, breathing on you, pressing his entire length into your belly. It’s a surprise you’ve maintained the ability to stand, really. 

“Come on, baby please? Drive with me to the track tomorrow. Spend the day with me.” 

You almost laugh at the absurdity of his request. Drive with Lando to the track where you would most certainly be photographed arriving with him? Spend the day with him? Give the photographers more opportunities to connect you two? 

“Do you want to cause chaos?” You say, laughter edging its way into your voice. 

“With you? Always.” 

The air sparks between you, thick and heavy with the tension that’d been building since the moment he put his hand on your thigh while he drove you back to the hotel earlier. Lando’s eyes, usually bright and playfully shifted into something darker, something hungrier that had you swallowing thickly. The playful banter that you’d been batting back and forth all day had shifted in the last few moments, the undercurrent of tension now a physical force you could feel pressing against your chest. 

“You’re crazy.” You shake your head, eyes darting away from Lando’s down towards his lips. 

Lando sees where you’re looking and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, smirk growing even wider. He lowers his head, breath warm against your lips. “Crazy about how you’re looking at me right now.” He rasps, voice husky and low. 

The world narrows, the hallway fading into a blur of black and white as his lips finally meet yours. It’s soft at first, tentative and gentle like he’s taking his time with you, savoring the way you feel against him. After a moment though, the dam breaks and Lando tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He drags his hand away from your hip up to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he yanks you closer. 

You melt against him, your own hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid warmth beneath his shirt. The kiss was everything you’d been thinking about since the moment you met him, a fusion of sweetness and heat, a delicious blend of anticipation and raw desire. 

Lando pulls back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes, still stormy with passion, searched yours. “Fuck.” He whispers before dragging his mouth down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him better access, a desperate whine spilling from your lips. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Lando says against the crook of your neck. 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. Lips still tingling, you struggle to catch your breath and slow your pounding heart as it hammers out a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. 

Lando lifts his head up to look at you. The intensity of his gaze has you clutching at the fabric of his white button down. “Can I kiss you again?” He murmurs. 

“Please.” You beg. 

Lando’s eyes flare, pupils going wide. “Good girl.” 

It’s a miracle you stay on your feet. 

He closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no restraint. He doesn’t hold back as he covers your lips with his, nipping at the your bottom lip just hard enough to elicit a gasp from you. The kiss deepens even further, a connection that runs deeper than either of you had anticipated sparking to life. 

The world outside the hallway ceases to exist. Someone could have come running past shouting about a fire and neither of you would have reacted. The only thing you feel is Lando’s lips on yours, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your senses. It felt like a moment suspended in time, a stolen moment of pure passion that deepens the already growing connection you shared with him. 

You have no idea how long Lando spends kissing you but when he pulls back, you lift your hands to your lips, feeling how swollen they’ve become from how good he’s worked you over. 

“I should go before I can’t anymore.” Lando says, eyes full of hesitation like he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying. 

“You could stay.” You whisper, reaching out to trail your fingers down his jaw. He leans into the palm of your hand, kissing the warm skin there before he shakes his head. 

“I could, but I won’t.” 

Disappointment surges through you so sharply a whine escapes before you can control yourself. 

Lando chuckles while he runs his fingers through your hair. “I said no more flings and I meant it. I’m going to do this the right way this time and that means turning around and walking away before I throw you over my shoulder and open that fucking door myself.” 

Lando was seriously impressed with the amount of restraint he was showing right now. He’d been thinking of this, of the moment he finally got to touch you, taste you, feel you against him, since the moment he ran into you in the paddock yesterday. When you two had started talking and getting to know each other, he’d been attracted to your personality, the way you had such a passion for life, the way you never felt anything halfway or lightly. But now that he was here with you, had you physically within his reach, the way his skin tingled whenever you were nearby was a feeling he’d never experienced before and he was obsessed. 

You can’t help the frown that forms on your face and Lando leans down to kiss it away. “So you don’t want…” You say against his lips. 

Lando shakes his head, pulling away. “No, baby. I do. Very much, trust me. I just…” He rakes his hand through his curls, trying to find the right words, the vulnerability you’re pulling from him is unsettling but not all that unwelcome either. “I just don’t want to rush this. This isn’t a stolen weekend for me. I want to take my time with you, okay?” 

Your heart thuds at his words, thankful that you’re not the only one feeling this way. After a beat you finally find your voice. “Okay.” 

Lando smiles before dropping a kiss onto your forehead while he holds onto your chin. “Good. Get some sleep, I’ll text you when I figure out what time we have to leave tomorrow morning for the track, okay?” 

It’s all you can do to nod in agreement before you watch Lando turn on his heel and walk towards the elevator. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source new couple alert???? @/lando and @/yourusername were spotted arriving at the track together ahead of sunday's grand prix. They've been spotted together frequently this weekend with the American influencer spending a second day in McLaren's garage cheering on the British driver. They were also spotted late last night on what looked to be a double date with Carlos Sainz and his partner Rebecca. I think this is all the confirmation we need that Norris is officially DONE with once rumored fling and british model @/its_allegra_babes user999 ohhhh this is juicy user919 @/its_allegra_babes uh...so what was that hint about going to Monaco for the off week??? >>>user111 looks like she's gonna be alone in Monaco...or third wheeling it. hahahahah >>>user928 HAHA seriously. where are the 'private but not secret' people now? SEE he does know how to claim a girl in public >>>user992 he hasn't claimed her either??? until that man says the words 'my girlfriend' they're all clout chasing wannabes... user333 NAH because i have NEVER seen this man look that happy when he's with allegra tho. >>>user832 i'm here for the race and have paddock club tickets. i saw them eating lunch before the race and BOY let me tell you. that man is not thinking about anyone but @/yourusername

tag list:

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Mine, Always

Fandom: Women’s Basketball (WNBA) | UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader, Paige Bueckers x !daughter (Lex)

Tags: Fluff, Found Family, Bio!Single Parent Reader, Adoption, Protective Paige, Deadbeat Parent Drama, Soft Domestic Moments, WNBA Life, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Depth

Summary: mama P, she’s always been mama…

🏷️: @yailtsv , @starfulani , @nooooheheheheh , @sitawita , @azziswrld

I remember the first time Paige met Alexa—my little girl, my whole world. She was six at the time, still rocking mismatched socks and an obsession with dinosaurs. I was just starting to let someone new into our lives, and Lex was always my priority. But Paige? She didn’t force herself into our little world. She let Lex warm up to her, let her be the one to decide when Paige could stay.

And once she did, there was no looking back.

Paige became her safe space. From movie nights to helping with school projects, from standing in the crowd at Lex’s soccer games to carrying her up to bed when she fell asleep on the couch—she was there. She never overstepped, never tried to replace what was never there to begin with.

By the time we got married last year, I knew what was coming next.

Lex wanted Paige to be her mama.

I sat across from Lex at our dining table one evening, watching her nervously pick at the edges of her notebook while I helped her with homework. Paige was out at practice, and the house felt quiet.

“Mom?” Lex asked, looking up at me with those big brown eyes that always made me melt.

“Yeah, baby?”

She hesitated, chewing her lip before she let out a sigh, like she had the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. “I wanna ask Paige something. But I don’t know how.”

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my palm. “Well, that depends. What’s the question?”

She fiddled with the corner of her page before finally whispering, “I want her to be my mama. For real.”

My chest squeezed. I had a feeling this was coming, but hearing it out loud? It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

I reached over, tucking her braids behind her ear. “Lex… she is your mama.”

“But, like, legally,” she clarified, her voice small but determined. “I wanna have her last name, too. Like you.”

That was it. I was done for.

I pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “She’s gonna be so happy, baby. You know how much she loves you, right?”

She nodded against my chest. “Yeah.”

I smiled. “Then just ask her. When she gets home.”

⸻

That night, Paige had barely stepped through the door, gym bag slung over her shoulder, when Lex practically ran into her.

“Whoa—what’s up, kid?” Paige laughed, steadying herself as Lex grabbed her hand.

“I have a question!” Lex announced, determined, dragging her to the couch. I followed behind, heart already full knowing what was about to happen.

Paige tossed me a playful, questioning look before sitting down. “Alright, hit me.”

Lex took a deep breath, looking Paige dead in the eye. “Can you adopt me?”

Silence.

Paige’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. For the first time since I’d met her, she was speechless. Her gaze flickered to me for a second, as if checking to see if this was real.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna,” Lex added quickly, but I could see the hope in her eyes.

Paige snapped out of it. “Are you kidding?” She pulled Lex into her lap, cradling her face. “Lex, kiddo, I’d love to. More than anything.”

Lex’s smile was blinding, and I could already see the tears forming in Paige’s eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Paige whispered, pressing her forehead to Lex’s. “I’m already your mama, but I’d be honored to make it official.”

I watched them with my heart bursting, knowing that in that moment, we were truly a family in every way that mattered.

⸻

Fast forward to now, a year later, and Lex was officially Alexa (Your Last Name)-Bueckers. The paperwork was done, the name change finalized, and she couldn’t stop beaming when she saw it printed on her new school ID.

Everything was perfect—until Lex’s biological father, the one who had never been there, decided to crawl out of whatever hole he’d been in for the past decade.

And it all started with Paige’s radio interview.

Paige had just finished practice when she called me. “Babe,” she started, a little breathless, “I might’ve said something on the radio that’ll make headlines.”

I sighed, setting my phone between my ear and shoulder as I stirred dinner. “What’d you do now, Bueckers?”

“Well, the host asked about Lex,” she admitted. “And I kinda… called her my daughter. Like, really emphasized it.”

My stirring stopped. “Okay?”

Paige huffed. “I mean, I meant it, obviously. But I think it’s gonna be everywhere.”

I smiled. “Good. Let people know.”

That was the thing about Paige. She never saw Lex as anything less than hers. Not a stepdaughter, not just my kid—her kid.

The interview clip spread fast. In it, the host asked Paige what it was like being a WNBA player and a parent.

Paige, without missing a beat, said, “It’s the best thing in my life. I know she’s not biologically mine, but that doesn’t mean anything. Lex is my daughter. No paperwork or last name change will ever mean as much as what I already know in my heart—she’s mine.”

It was beautiful. It was perfect.

And it must’ve pissed off Lex’s deadbeat father, because suddenly, he was trying to be relevant again.

⸻

He messaged me the next day.

“So I just heard my daughter got adopted. Funny how no one told me.”

I stared at my phone, a bitter laugh escaping. Now he cared?

I typed back.

“She’s not your daughter. You didn’t even sign her birth certificate.”

He shot back.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You had no right.”

That was all it took. I went into my files and pulled up every receipt—missed child support payments, medical bills I paid alone, birthdays he skipped, the list went on.

I sent it all in one long, damning message.

“You haven’t been in her life for a single second. You don’t get to be mad now just because a real parent stepped up where you never did. If you cared, you would’ve acted like it years ago.”

He left me on read.

Exactly.

⸻

When I told Paige about it that night, she scoffed. “He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I know, but I just hate that he’s even trying.”

Paige pulled me onto the couch, wrapping an arm around me. “He can try all he wants. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Lex popped her head into the room. “What doesn’t change a thing?”

Paige patted the seat between us, and Lex climbed up, curling into her side.

Paige kissed the top of her head. “That you’re my daughter. No matter what.”

Lex smiled, tucking into Paige’s shoulder. “I know that.”

I exchanged a look with Paige, and in that moment, I knew we’d won.

Not in a petty way—this was never about proving anything to a man who was never there.

It was about us.

Our family.

And nothing, no amount of bitterness or late attempts at relevance, could ever change that.

She was ours. Always.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[mixispicklix]

I left home the day I graduated high school. It was just my three sisters, me and my mother. Dad took off when I was five. I was the only boy and had three younger sisters. My sisters and I were really close, and my mother doted over the girls. Me, however, she treated like crap. I couldn't seem to do anything right. She was constantly criticizing me. Her favorite saying was, "You're a worthless guy just like your father." I don't know why my father left, but if this was how she treated him, I don't fault him one bit. I didn't tell anyone, but I joined the army. I signed up the week before I turned 18. Two weeks after I graduated high school and the day I turned 18, I left for boot camp. I didn't tell anyone what I was doing or where I was going. I woke up before anyone else and left the house without saying a word to anyone. After five years of deployment, I was a Sargent. One day, I was summoned to the captain's office. When I got there, the company chaplain was sitting in the office with the captain. After getting all the formalities out of the way, I asked what's going on, Cap? The chaplain said it's your mom, Sergent. The captain says look Mix I know you weren't close with your mom, but I put you in for 4 weeks of emergency family leave. When was the last time you talked to your sisters? Usually just cards on holidays and birthdays, but they never mentioned that mom was sick. The chaplain will fill you in on everything we know. Your flight back to the States leaves in four hours. It seems my mother had a heart attack and just died with no warnings. Since I was deployed and out of contact with the base, I missed the funeral. I didn't have a phone number for my sisters. I sent them an email letting them know I was on my way home. I didn't get a reply, so I didn't know what would happen when I got there. I sent another email after I landed and said I've landed and I should be at the house in about three hours. After a few minutes, I got a reply. It said the front door would be unlocked, and we'll be waiting. When I finally arrived I knocked and waited but no one answered. I tried the door, and sure enough, it was unlocked. I called for my sisters, but no one answered. When I got to the back room by the back deck, I saw all three of them sitting on a couch wearing bikinis and making out with each other. I apologized and started to leave when one of my sisters looked up at me and said. Don't leave yet. Mix, we've been waiting for you. With that, they all got up and surrounded me and said, "Welcome home, brother. We really missed you."

[hellsquills]

Do you think Ford knew how old he was when he came back? Because I don't think so.

He's been all around the multiverse, in places that definitely didn't follow the laws of physics of his home dimension. Time works differently depending on the place he lands on, and he never gets used to any of them because he knows he'll have to leave sooner or later.

So time passes. He can feel himself age, of course, but he doesn't know how long it's been since he fell through the portal. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he can see wrinkles paired with new scars, and his hair is getting grayer, but that could simply be a sign of stress. And sure, his body hurts when he wakes up, but he's constantly on the move and sleeping anywhere he can, obviously he's not going to be in the best shape! All things considered, he's a pretty fit man for any age, and whatever years he's been alive for is not his priority right now.

When he comes back home, after his first encounter with Stan, he finally gets a moment to think about his new and old family. His brother looks older, obviously, and certainly different from what he imagined (not that he thought about him often, of course not). His hair is whiter than his own, and he has even more wrinkles than him! Just how badly was he taking care of himself in the... how many years... wait, did he say 30?!

I don't think Ford was necessarily thinking of a higher or lower number. I don't think he expected anything more or less: the way he sees it, it could've been anywhere from 10 to 1000 years. Time was meaningless between dimensions. I think that the sole reminder that time still passed was what got to him.

That shock came full force after Weirdmageddon, when he realized that Stan was his same age, despite the differences in their physiques. It was the fact that they were both around 60 years old, and they had been apart for 40 years. Two whole thirds of their lives. They were supposed to grow old together, maybe not in the same house (or boat), but close to each other. That, paired with how old and worn down Stan looks, Ford can't help but feel like he's now years younger than him, and he hates thinking about it because with the way Stan had been living for the last 40 years, just how much longer- no, stop, don't think about it.

Ford's paranoia turns into hypochondria, but towards his brother. This translates as Ford desperately trying to cut Stan's bad habits (such as alcohol and smoking), making sure he eats well (Ford can't cook for shit) and semi-forcing him to do some exercise. Stan is not on board with these measures, and he lets his brother know just that because he's being bossy and annoying and he would like to enjoy his amnesia in peace please. Ford is as stubborn as a mule, but eventually he gives up and just begs Stan to please consider some of his suggestions because he wants him to be better. Stan still refuses, but every once in a while Ford catches him doing some exercise by himself or ordering a non alcoholic drink, and it makes him happy.

When they return to Gravity Falls, the twins look the most identical they've looked since they were like 10: Stan's eyes have a shine that Soos had never seen before, and his new and improved posture makes him look taller, like the weight of the world had been lifted off of him. Ford, on the other hand, has a fuller face and body, his expression is now softer and somewhat kinder, and he walks much more carelessly, like he's strolling instead of marching.

Ford doesn't care how old he is anymore, because now he's growing old next to his brother.

[strongermonster]

had sex with a seamstress last night, after which when we were lying there talking, she took some strands of hair from each of us off the sheets and braided them together into a thread, and then before she left she told us she takes bits of hair from all her lovers and stitches them into a patch in the lining of her coat 'for luck in future love'. it's sort of romantic in a haunted doll kind of way. which btw, she also makes dolls with the hair that accumulates in her hair brush, and felts little creatures out of her cats' fur, habits she got from her grandmother who was into hairwork, a hobby i did not know existed still in our modern years. anyways. hi everybuddy. if you never hear from me again i've been turned into a trinket for her collection

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake Makes Horrible Life Decisions, and Gotham Suffers for It

So, picture this: you’re Damian Wayne. You’re in Gotham. You’re minding your own business, probably threatening someone, when suddenly—

Tim. Drake. Walks. Through. The. Door.

Which is crazy, because no one has seen him in almost a year. This man disappeared off the face of the earth after claiming their father was still alive (which, now they know he was right, but that doesn't mean he didn't sound insane at the time), and now, out of absolutely nowhere, he waltzes back in like nothing happened.

Which, okay, yay! They got the coordinates and were able to bring Bruce back! That's great! But instead of calling or even warning anyone that he was, in fact, still alive and making very questionable life choices, Tim just shows up at the Manor’s front door looking incredibly smug, dressed in some League-adjacent gear, and—oh yeah—carrying a mostly-conscious, Lazarus-green-glowing, very familiar-looking boy over his shoulder.

Cue everyone just staring.

And then:

"Hey guys," Tim says, completely casual. "This is Danyal. Damian’s clone. Also, my boyfriend. Try to be nice."

And that’s when Damian seriously considers violence.

Because, of course, the League of Assassins—those bastards—decided that when he was no longer fit to be the next Demon’s Head, they’d just cook up a clone. Enter Danyal, who apparently didn't last as long as they had hoped.

But the thing about throwing a perfectly good clone into the Lazarus Pit is that sometimes, instead of reviving someone the normal way, you accidentally create a half-ghost with existential issues and a penchant for property destruction.

Now, there’s a lot more to unpack here. But let’s break it down:

Tim is alive. No one even gets the chance to yell at him for ghosting (ha) them for nearly a year before—

He apparently blew up the league of assassins??? Which is the only acceptable reaction to discovering your feral ex-grandfather made a spare Damian, but still, a little warning would’ve been nice.

Tim kidnapped him. And then—because Tim is Tim—

Proceeded to date him.

Absolutely no one knows how to respond to this.

Jason is laughing his ass off. He thinks this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened. (He also immediately gives Danyal a noogie, because apparently all versions of Damian need to be bullied at least a little.)

Dick is concerned but also so relieved Tim is alive that he doesn’t know whether to hug him or strangle him.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass are just watching this play out like it's the best drama they've ever seen.

Alfred is probably the only one handling this with dignity. (Barely.)

Bruce looks at his returned son, then at the glowing clone, then back at Tim, and just sighs, because, honestly? He’s too tired for this.

Meanwhile, Damian—who has officially hit his limit and is barely recovering from his urge of violence—is just staring. Trying to process the fact that:

He has a clone.

That clone is now his older brother’s boyfriend.

Tim—who he hasn’t seen in a year—showed up out of nowhere, without warning, to drop this information on him like it’s normal.

"You kidnapped my clone." "Rescued," Tim corrects. "You kidnapped him, blew up the League, and then proceeded to date him." "What can I say? I’m efficient."

"I WAS GONE FOR A YEAR." Bruce finally explodes. "A YEAR. I COME BACK, AND NOW TIM HAS A CLONE OF DAMIAN AS HIS—HIS BOYFRIEND?!*"

"We prefer ‘genetic anomaly turned incredibly attractive disaster. Plus, a lot can happen in a year," Tim says, like that helps.

Danyal, barely recovering from the loopiness of the Lazarus Pit and sudden existential crisis, gives a lazy little wave. "Hi."

Now Gotham has two Damians (one ghostly and feral, the other just regular feral), Ra’s al Ghul has no viable heirs, and Bruce? Bruce wishes he were still dead.

Tim, meanwhile, is just happy his boyfriend’s getting some quality bonding time with his genetic source material.

The family cannot handle this.

[dawnphoenixrises]

As someone who grew up with both epilepsy and sensory issues and had to try to get accommodations for both I will say this is true. My sensory issues were bad but I had different things to manage them (ear plugs, certain clothes, etc.) HOWEVER I didn’t worry about my sensory issues for like the first 16 years. They were just there and sometimes I felt overwhelmed if I didn’t do certain things (oversimplifying but yeah)

This was mainly because I grew up with epilepsy so was always worrying and aware of triggers for them. Also with these there was less things I could do on my own for accommodations. I had to advocate for myself from a young age (diagnosed around 5) to my teachers cause even if my mom said something they wouldn’t always follow it.

I remember one time that my class was watching a movie and I asked the teacher if it had flashing lights or a strobe and she said she didn’t know and to just get the form signed. As I was young I didn’t know how to look it up so I just got the form signed. Surprise I had a seizure - luckily I’m not grande mal but we only know because I was talking with a friend who worried when I stopped talking and got the teacher who sent me to the nurse (ALONE which wasn’t smart) who basically had me lay down for 10 minutes then sent me back to class. This is not how it should have been handled. The teacher knew I had epilepsy and should have told me to ask my mom or at least not make me feel embarrassed about it. I should have been sent to the nurse with a friend in case I had another seizure and something happened. I should have been sent home! after this I had to advocate even more for myself because it’s not like I can just shut my eyes every time there’s a strobe cause sometimes a seizure will happen before I realize.

I was always worried a seizure would happen. Even when I was a year free in 7th grade I wasn’t worried. And one did happen. I had a seizure and lost control of my body with a full bladder. I couldn’t get up because I was sitting in a chair full of my own pee. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t say anything to my friend sitting next to me or the sub. Luckily my mom worked in the school so I texted her and after the bell rang she came and got me. it’s terrifying to lose control over my own body like that. To have no say in what it does or even be aware for it. There’s a reason those with epilepsy have to wait 6 months from the last seizure to drive because they could easily get in a crash at the wrong time.

I remember being 10 and asking my mom if I’d ever stop having seizures and not have to take meds and to be able to not have to worry about watching a movie or hanging with friends or even taking a bath. I rember feeling sad but resigned when she told me there’s a very small chance that I could. And luckily that small chance happened but I also still worry that I could have a seizure cause it still is possible. I am more likely to have seizures when I am older because of it and I never know if I watch a movie with a strobe if it will set me off again. And I am 6 years seizure free! While both need accommodations and people should have access to both, epilepsy can be immediately life threatening. It was only after my seizures were under control and a few years free that I started paying attention to my sensory issues consciously. The accommodations for the two are not the same and shouldn’t be treated the same but anyone with either should be able to access them to improve their life or even save it.

I keep seeing people put accommodations for people with epilepsy on the same level as sensory accommodations for autism and like... no??? Obviously both are important but epilepsy can kill people, SUDEP is a thing. If you expose someone with photosensitive epilepsy to strobing lights they could suffer permanent brain damage or die. Epilepsy is a condition with physical, sometimes deadly consequences. I'm not sure how many different ways I need to say this before it sticks, but epileptic seizures are physical neurological phenomena that can cause lasting neurological damage or death. Epilepsy can kill you. You can die from epilepsy.

[illbegottenfaith]

stuck with u

you get stuck in the Room of Requirement with a not-so-distant acquaintance and realise there's no where else you'd rather be (theo nott x reader)

all this loving you, hating you, wanting you...

a/n - ahh my first entry for hogmarch! I can't believe I'm finally writing a trope I used to devourrr as a (younger) teen and although 'stuck' tropes aren't my absolute favourites I like that I went for a little unconventional take on it :D I decided to blend the week 1 & 2 themes since im wayyy past the week 1 timeframe oops (midterms...) anyways this was so so fun to write cuz even 5 years on I love love loveee stuck with u ARGHH its so good so enjoy :)))

tropes/warnings - mutual pining, friends-ish to lovers, fluff, happy ending <3

word count - 2.5k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

You’d never been one to stick around - not when it came to people.

You had friends. Plenty of them, in fact. You’re easy to get along with, know how to fill the silences with laughter. But close friendships - the kind where you let them actually know you, the kind where you let them in, let them see something real - those have been few and far between.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of people. You just didn’t trust easily.

Most friendships, to you, felt temporary. People drift in and out of each other’s lives all the time, and you’d never seen much use in pretending otherwise. You kept things surface-level, just enough to be friendly. But the moment someone gets too close, asking questions you don’t want to answer, you pull away. Create distance before they can even get the chance to disappoint you.

But then there’s Theo. And, for some reason, he’s the only person you’ve never managed to push away.

Not that you haven’t tried.

In your first year, when you tripped down the last few steps of the dungeon staircase and sent your books flying, it was Theo who had crouched beside you, silently gathering them up, not a single snide remark on his lips as 11-year-old boys were prone to hand out. No, all you got was a faint smirk as he handed them back to you without a word, all while you gaped gormlessly at him.

In your third year, when you missed a week of classes after a particularly vicious stomach bug, it was Theo who had slid his notes across the table in Potions, muttering “don’t ask me to explain any of it” out the corner of his mouth. All the same, with every mildly incoherent word in his slanted, cursive handwriting, he was surprisingly cooperative in deciphering it for you.

In your fourth year, when you got hexed in the middle of the corridor and spent the entire afternoon with bright green hair, it was Theo who had walked you to the Prefects’ Bathroom, rolling his eyes as he mumbled something about how he “might as well supervise” before you inevitably made it worse.

And this year - your last year - he’s always there.

You don’t understand it. You don’t have the kind of friendship where you confide in each other, where you talk about things that matter. But somehow, Theo always seems to be around when it matters - watching with those observant, calculating eyes of his, offering help without making a big deal out of it, like he knows you wouldn’t take it if he did.

It’s a running joke now - one you always throw at him with a grin. You just can’t get rid of me, huh?

And every time, he huffs a quiet laugh. Apparently not.

The next time you get stuck with him is over spring break. Naturally, all your friends wanted to do was laze around the Common Room, half-dozing. Eventually, someone proposed the brilliant idea of fetching a game for a little intellectual stimulation, like Uno. Unfortunately, no one wanted to actually get up to get it other than you and Theo.

“This isn’t going to work,” you said. You and Theo were standing in an empty corridor on one of the higher floors, one where the Room of Requirement was rumoured to appear. He shushed you impatiently, his eyes still screwed shut as he thought long and hard about a deck of uno cards.

You sighed, waiting for him to get this over with. This close, you could see every individual eyelash of his, all of which were unfairly long. Really, it was a waste of a beautiful feature on a perfectly mediocre boy.

He finally opened his eyes, which almost immediately found yours. You hadn’t realised you were standing so close to each other. For a brief moment, you were struck by how pretty his eyes were - marbled, watercolour eyes that lent a softness to his otherwise strong, harsh features. Momentarily speechless, you looked away, following his line of sight over your shoulder.

Well, I’ll be damned, you thought. A door. An actual door.

Sure enough, it opened to a narrow, cavernous room filled to the brim with every board game you could dream up. The two of you wandered in, weaving in and out of stacks upon stacks of games. Once you picked out a suitable deck of Uno cards, you both meandered back to the entrance. Or what was the entrance.

You turned the corner of a stack, back to where the entrance was, only to see Theo standing with his back to you, his face hidden, fingertips ghosting a blank stretch of stone.

“Theo,” you started, stating the complete obvious, “why is there wall where the door is supposed to be?”

"I don't believe it," you heard him mumble disbelievingly under his breath. "It was here just a moment ago."

"You lost the door?" you cried out. He was starting to look a little green around the gills, his eyes darting to the other walls. He gave a weak, unconvincing laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous."

“Do something, Theodore!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Theo winced. “Quit yelling, would you?”

You sat down, slumped against the opposite wall, dragging a hand across your face. “Great. This is just perfect. We’re going to grow old and die and shrivel up in here and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault? If you had just waited by the door like I asked - ”

"You didn't tell me the door was going to disappear!"

"Yeah - well - it's never happened before." Theo dragged his hand out of his hair, now wildly sticking up in all directions, fingers trailing up the wall as if trying to feel for a hidden door. You scoffed.

"I told you we should have gone down to Hogsmeade to buy a deck, but no, you didn’t want to walk all that way.”

“Unlike you, I actually know how to work the Room.”

Theo turned just in time to dodge the Monopoly figurine you had hurled at his head.

"Then work it. Get us out of here."

--------

"Stop chucking things at me."

Grudgingly, you paused your assault. Half an hour ago, you had been ready to climb the walls and tear them down to get out of this place. Now, the craze had passed, so you settled for pelting Theo with all the tiny games figurines you could get your hands on while he paced wearily, trying to think of a solution.

“I’ll stop when we have an exit.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Theo turned back to the blank stone wall, muttering something under his breath as he pressed his palm against it. When nothing happened, he shoved both hands through his already-ruffled hair and swore under his breath.

Your eyes tracked his movements critically. “You have no idea how to get us out of here, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Theo shot back, a little too quickly.

"Right."

Five minutes later, he finally admitted defeat. He joined you where you were slumped in a corner, unsuccessfully trying to juggle the chess pieces. To your credit, you didn't say it, but your whole body language hummed with an undercurrent of I told you so.

"The Room's going to let us out when it wants to let us out," he said finally. "All we can do is wait till it feels like it."

He sounded so defeated you were starting to feel a little bad for being so hard on him. You sighed.

"I just can't believe we're stuck in here when everybody else is...you know, out there."

“Yes,” he said drily, “because there’s so many better places to we need to be. Merlin forbid we fall behind on our couch-rotting hours.”

You grinned as he picked up the deck of cards on your lap, starting to shuffle them.

"Might as well make the most of it while we're stuck here."

You raised your eyebrows as he started expertly manipulating the deck.

"Shuffling's the newest panty-dropper, eh?"

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards as his eyes remained fixed on the deck. "You'd be surprised."

You can practically see him puffing out his chest on the showier tricks he does with laser-focused concentration. It makes you want to laugh, his almost childish need to be impressive. To impress others. To impress you.

But, for reasons that eluded you, you were impressed. Not once had Theo ever let you down. It was as though he was incapable of it. You didn't exactly rely on him, but when he was around, his deep, self-assured voice was guaranteed to soothe your frazzled nerves. Even now, when all you wanted to do was bitch and moan about how you were never going to see the light of day again, he somehow managed to distract you, amuse you. Theo always knew how to turn a bad situation around and, well, to someone as catastrophic as you, what could sound more appealing?

Game after game, time began to blur. The cards whispered as they slid over each other in his hands, a hypnotic rhythm filling the silence between you. You let your head tilt back against the wall, exhaling slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little.

Your head lolled against your shoulder as you lazily watched Theo shuffle the cards for the umpteenth time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you noted, tilting your head toward him.

He didn't look up from the cards. "A novel concept, I know."

You nudged him in the ribs and he gave an exaggerated wince.

"Watch it. There's no exit and I'm more than capable of beating your ass."

Theo laughed at that, openly and unabashed.

"You're going to beat my ass?"

"Just said I would, didn't I?"

Theo snorted, mumbling something somewhat affectionate under his breath. You turned away, hiding your grin. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes glittered with the thrill of being Theo's company - the only person who could keep up with you.

He continued shuffling the cards, a little slower now.

“I’m thinking.”

You looked back at him, once again interested. “Dangerous.”

He flicked a card at you without looking, and you batted it away with a grin. “Thinking about what?”

His shuffling slowed to a stop. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something.” You leaned even closer to him now, your knees brushing against his thigh. “Something broody and dramatic, I bet. Come on, spill.”

Theo exhaled through his nose. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” you chirped. "Just tell me what it is. Unless you’re scared.”

That got him. His jaw ticked, fingers tapping on the deck.

“Didn’t peg you for a coward, Nott,” you goaded, bumping your knee against his. “You can tell me.”

Theo let out a slow breath, his shoulders tensing. He shuffled the deck once more, but this time, his movements weren’t just for show. They were measured, thoughtful, almost like he was buying himself time.

You covered his hands with yours, stopping him. He glanced down to where the two of you were practically holding hands.

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

You nodded. "Did you kill a man."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "No."

"Is it about the shuffling? Were you secretly roped into an underground gambling ring over the summer? Is that where you learnt all those tricks?"

You could tell he desperately wanted to smile but was stopping himself. "No," Theo said, his grip on your hand tightening.

"You started an underground gambling ring? Without me?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

You dropped your eyes to his crotch for a fraction of a second.

"Ach - not like t - that's not what I meant."

"I'm just messing with you." You ran a hand through his hair despite his desperate, one-handed attempts to bat you away. "Tell me already."

Theo hesitated. You became suddenly aware of how quiet the Room was. You felt an awful, sinking feeling in your stomach that maybe Theo was right. You weren't going to like what he had to say.

“I don’t mind being stuck here.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

He shifted beside you, tapping the deck of cards against his knee.

“I mean, yeah, it’s a bit ridiculous how we ended up here, but…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. Being here. Being stuck here. With you.”

You stared at him. His eyes shone with that stupidly optimistic sincerity of his that you only saw glimpses of from time to time. He meant every single word.

His grip slackened. Wordlessly, you retracted your hand. How were you to bear this?

"You're right," you said in a voice thick with unshed tears. "That is absolutely ridiculous. It's downright - " your voice quivered. You brushed a hand across your eyes. "Downright laughable."

A sobering silence followed. You wondered if Theo was kicking himself for having opened his mouth in the first place. You wondered if you should say something.

"You really don't mind this?" you started hoarsely. You tilted your head to face him. "You don't mind me? I mean, I pelted you with Monopoly pieces while yelling abuse at you. I messed up your hair."

His mouth curved into that faint, breezy smile of his.

"'Course I don't mind it."

"Why not?" You should.

"'Cause it's you." It's you. It's always been you.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You felt the exhaustion of being trapped in here catching up to you. You rested your head on his clavicle. Hesitantly, he turned his head to press his lips to your temple.

"I have to be honest, Y/N," he muttered against your hair. "I don't know if we're getting out of here."

"S'alright." You pressed a tiny kiss to his shoulder. "There's nothing I'd rather than do, either."

It's what all this loving him, hating him, wanting him boiled down to. Interlacing his long, careful fingers with your own, you decided that yes, there was no one else you'd rather be stuck with.

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Chapter 2

Words:1.0k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

Being an empress has started to get a little boring now if you’re being honest. You frown at the stack of books and papers you had sitting on your desk. You turned to your attendant with a pout. He only shakes his head with a soft sigh.

“It’s the only way you can keep the higher ups from demanding an heir at the moment” He says calmly. You sigh as you pick up your writing equipment.

Bill passing….

BORING!

“I’m too young to have a child” You muttered. A little annoyed.

“Having kids isn’t all that bad, but I get why you’re upset”

You hum softly.

Now this isn’t you saying you hate kids or anything! You think they're alright, a little needy and loud but overall okay.

It’s just

You aren’t ready

“Ah I’ve had a talk with one of the higher ups earlier and he said that your consorts need ladies in waiting” You perk up.

“Ladies in waiting?”

“Mhm”

“I guess you’re right. Plus, it’ll be nice company for them since I’m not always gonna be there”

“Great. I’ll tell the higher ups tomorrow and have them assign them their own”

“Make sure they do background checks. Can’t have creeps and unworthy people working for my lovely consorts now can I?” You say. Your attendant nods.

“By the way, how’s your son?” His eyes lit up. He then goes on a rant about how his son is currently taking swordsman lessons and that he's getting better day by day. You smile.

At least now you can slack off just a little bit!

-

You watch as the last of the few ladies and men have been brought into the throne room. You eyed every single one carefully, some shivering under your watchful eyes as others seemed confident or uncomfortable.

“These are the best candidates the higher ups were able to gather last night” Your attendant, atsushi bows before calling out the first person up.

Both Riddle and Leona watch carefully at every single person that steps up. Listening closely to every single thing that comes out of their mouth along with their appearance, how they carry themselves, etc.

“Ace trappola! Young man from the Queendom Of Roses, good talents are cleaning, tending animals, and……card tricks?” The boy, “Ace” stifles a laugh but was given a stern look from his older brother which made him stop.

Riddle can already sense that he’s big trouble while Leona could really care less.

You get a good look at Ace.

He’s average height, fair skin, fluffy orange hair, and scarlet like eyes.

Not bad

And you won’t lie, he’s kinda funny.

You turn to riddle, wondering if he’ll take in trappola as a lady in waiting.

Riddle can already feel your stare on him. His cheeks turn a light pink at your stare.

“I’ll take him” He mutter softly. Small pout as he looks away. Leona scoffs.

“Excellent! Next”

After what seems to be hours (years even)

Your two lovely consorts have each of their own ladies in waiting.

Riddle: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond

Leona: Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl

Once everyone was satisfied with their choices, your attendant dismissed the ones who weren’t chosen. You walked down to greet the new ladies in waiting with a soft smile.

“It’s nice to have you young gentleman here” You say. The boys jumped before quickly bowing to you. You smile.

“Now you know that each of you will be staying with and taking care of my two precious consorts right?” Riddle turns a bright red as Leona looks away. You can tell your charms got to him by how he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves.

“I hope you guys take good care of them!……or else” You gave them a menacing look. The five boys gulp, before nodding their heads. Some of them held a look of determination while a few….looked a little scared.

Perfect!

“Great! I’ll have my lovely attendant escort you guys back to your pavilions” You gave each concubine a kiss on the cheek before making your way out. A happy go lucky look on your face as the ladies in waiting can only look at each other and shiver in fear.

What a scary empress!

-

It’s been two months since you’ve gotten your consorts their ladies in waiting.

And it’s going great so far!

….

…..

Kinda

Riddle has been having trouble with Ace lately- scratch that, he’s been having trouble with him since he entered the heartslabyul pavilion.

He’ll rant to you about him every time you stop by and visit. You’ll just massage his tensed shoulders and whisper sweet words in his ears until he stops and relaxes.

Other than Ace, the other two don’t trouble him at all! Very good care takers, cleaners, and cooks!

Leona on the other hand, doesn't have any trouble with his ladies in waiting.

They’re patient, quick and ready to do anything he needs, and very good cooks!

Happy wives, happy life!

Not wives yet

Now speaking of wives, you are currently reading a letter from a high end family that wants their son to be a part of your harem.

Ha….you haven’t gotten one of these in months

“The Ashengrotto Family” You mutter. You paced back and forth in your home office as you read the letter.

“He’s the son of a very high ranking merchant. His mother owns a very successful restaurant somewhere near the east side and his stepfather is an ex military official”

“Mm”

You haven’t taken anyone in after Leona. And your vassal keeps pestering you to grow your harem.

Weirdos

Maybe it’s finally time to take someone in again!

“Schedule a meeting for tomorrow in the afternoon” You yawn out, ready to end this busy day and go to bed.

“Already done”

“Huh?” You turn around to see your attendant wearing a prideful smile.

“I know you will agree!” He says.

Eh?!

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm! Now go get some sleep, Mrs. Ashengrotto is very excited to meet you tomorrow!”

“You’re killing me”

“No”

“Yes….”

“By the way, are those papers done yet?” He asks.You froze. He raises a thick brow as he patiently waits. You batted your lashes at him as you sway side to side.

“Y’knowwwww you’re right! I should get some much deserved sleep, don't you think?” You slowly walk closer to the exit, still making eye contact as your hand slowly inches closer to the door.

“Y/n” he says sternly.

“Bye bye good night!” And with that you make a quick escape.

“Y/n!”

atsushi only sighs before a small smile creeps up upon his face.

“Just like their old man”

-

Tag list!🏷️

@gl00muraaii @ghostlysyntaxed @zoukaposts @twistedcece @kisses2kanao @s7-evermore @c0ralrubi @owl778 @rubyninja1 @roseapov

If you want to join the Taglist, feel free to tell me!☺️

If you have any questions or anything about this AU don’t be afraid to ask!

ALSO TYSM FOR 1k FOLLOWERS!!! LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!!

Can you guys see how reader cares for them? 🫣

[loverindeepspace]

Is That What You Think? // Sylus x Reader

Guess who's back, back again! Thank you so much for all the replies and support on my other oneshots! Ya'll are incredible <3 As a treat, I'm giving you some hurt/comfort :D Enjoy Concept: (Pre-relationship) Sylus gets hurt, you have an argument and make up Tags: Pre-relationship, getting together, gun violence, blood and wounds, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, first kiss, reader is referred to as 'Miss Hunter' once, swearing Word Count: 2085 Masterlist

You don’t know where it all went wrong. You don’t know when hatred turned into something softer, something vulnerable. The more time you spend with him, the softer the edges of his character seem, the sharpness of his gaze turning to something gentle, the harsh touch into something warm. But the darkness, the danger, still lurks underneath all that. He is harsh, cruel and merciless to others, and you caught glimpses of that often enough. But alone with you? The walls seem to ease slightly, something tender filling the air instead. 

He was dangerous. He was trouble. You knew that, and yet you still fell for him. You also knew it wouldn’t be long until these feelings came back to haunt you. 

And haunt you they did, when your colleagues, other hunters, took you to the interrogation room in your own workplace. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. We’re just here for a chat.” The first hunter, Kim (at least you think that’s her name) started, confusion and anxiety already stirring within you. 

“What do you need to chat about, that you have to take me into the interrogation room?” You keep your voice as steady as you can, not allowing yourself to cower under their serious demeanor. 

“You went into the N109 zone recently, did you not?” Kim says, sitting down across from you, her colleague, Tom, slouching in the chair next to her. A file sits in front of them, still closed.

“...Yes, I did.” Your fingers pull on the hems of your sleeves subconsciously.

“Who did you interact with in the N109 zone?” Tim’s gaze narrows slightly, almost accusatory.

“No one of mention, I kept my head down. I left before I got into any trouble. Sorry, what is this about?” You say quickly, something you have practiced many times in preparation, just in case someone caught onto your endeavors. 

“What do you know about Onychinus?” Kim got to the point, pen and notebook at the ready. The air was heavy, you had trouble taking steady breaths. The pointed looks in your direction didn’t help, your stomach dropping at the mention of the crime organisation. 

“... Not much really, just the rumours that go around the association.”

“Which rumours?”

“That Onychinus deals with illegal weapons, that the hunters association has been trying to hunt them down for years, that they pretty much run the N109 zone?” You carefully avoid mentioning Sylus, sticking to surface knowledge. Surface knowledge is safe, surface knowledge is normal. 

“You didn’t learn anything on your trip to the N109 zone?” Tom scoffs slightly, disbelief shining through his eyes. He was putting you on the spot. Is it suspicious to say no? They’ll question why I was there in the first place. Why I left without information. What can I say? 

Your words catch in your throat slightly.

“Not really, I left before I got myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of. Again, what is this about?” The front you put up must be convincing as Tom backs off slightly as your hard tone.

“The association is taking up Onychinus as a priority as of yesterday, that’s all you need to know at this point.” Kim states, and questions swim through your mind.

Why is the association moving in on Onychinus? What happened since the last time I talked to Sylus? 

The interrogation ended not too long after that, the two hunters trying to dig further into your mind, but you gave them nothing to work with. You made your way back to your desk, leaving the stifling and accusatory atmosphere behind you. Unanswered questions still plagued you, and where better to try to get answers than from the Onychinus leader himself. You leave work quickly, your shift ending before you know it, and you immediately pull up Sylus’s contact info and press the call button.

It rang once, twice, three times, before a deep voice filled your ears.

“What an honour, getting a call from Miss Hunter herself. Did you miss me, Kitten?” He crooned, a teasing note shining through his voice. A small smile spread across your lips, but the tension in your body didn’t let up.

“You wish. Now please enlighten me as to why I was suddenly questioned about Onychinus in my own workplace.” 

“Oh? How should I know?” You hear the smirk in his voice.

“What did you do?” You say with a very audible sigh, fingers rubbing the tension from your brow. 

“Me? I didn’t do anything. Had a bit of a pest problem, but that was dealt with quickly.” 

“Explain.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.”

“And how did this ‘pest problem’ evolve into the association putting a priority on hunting you down?”

“Are you worried about me?” Again with the smirk. It’s very audible.

“Should I be?” You decide to answer the question with your own. He huffed a laugh, before assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. 

A few days later, the situation worsens, and you’re in the worst place for it. You know how they say the wrong place and the wrong time? He had invited you to another auction, and you readily agreed to go with him. Until a group in familiar uniforms storms the auction house, weapons drawn. Chaos surrounded you, the mask on your face obscuring your vision, making it harder to move, harder to fight back and escape. Bullets shot past you, shouting filled your ears, and an arm grabbed you pulling you into a tight embrace. A hand held your head down and a restrained hiss filled your ears. 

—=+=---

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Your voice is harsh, even in your own ears. His weight slows you down as you support him while trying to keep pressure on the gash in his side. 

“I’m fine, Kitten. This is nothing.” His voice is steady, not even a grimace shown in his expression. If anything, he sounds exasperated. But he’s still leaning on you for support, and that tells you everything you need to know. You lead him through the Onychinus base, all the way up to his room and deposit him on the bed while you go grab the first aid kit. 

You move closer to him, tension and adrenaline not letting up as you open the kit, pulling out gloves, gauze and antiseptic. 

“You knew this was going to happen. You knew the hunters were going to show up.” You snap, giving him an accusatory glance. 

He chuckles slightly, “this was the best way to get rid of the pests infesting my territory. They arrived a little ahead of schedule, but nothing I can’t deal with.” His nonchalance about the situation lights an anger within you, as you start to treat his wound, which wasn’t healing at all, still oozing blood. The first crack in his demeanor shows when you swipe the antiseptic wipe across the gash, cleaning up the blood, not as gentle as you probably should’ve been. 

“Careful Kitten, pull back those claws.” His hand engulfs your own, stopping you in your tracks. His crimson eyes are focused on you, studying the furrow in your brow, your clenched jaw and the furious glare shot in his direction. 

“Come on now, Sweetie, no need to be upset. I didn’t harm any of your fellow hunters, did I?” His voice is steady, amused even.

“Is that what you think I’m upset about?” Your tone is harsh, unbelieving, as you move to meet his eyes, your expression stone cold, “Sylus. You purposefully put yourself in danger, to what? Mock the hunters association? Add fuel to the already burning fire? You’re not even healing right now. Those bullets? Those bullets neutralise evols, you won’t be healing for a good while yet. And as a hunter, I can tell you one thing. The association is relentless, they will keep coming back. What will happen next time? What if someone gets in a lucky shot? You won’t be walking away with just a gash, you won’t be walking out of there at all. I think I have the right to be angry at how fucking reckless you can be.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, his eyes searching your face, your expression twisted in barely restrained frustration. 

“Wouldn’t that be good news for you though? Onychinus finally crumbling? Your little hunters association finally winning? You could probably even get a medal for my death. You should be celebrating that fact.”

You freeze, your hand still reaching for the bandages settled beside you. Your eyes snap to his, disbelief, hurt and many unnamed emotions flashing through your gaze.

“Is that how little you think of me?” Your voice is small, hurt bleeding through every word. You steel yourself, standing up and throwing the bandages on his lap. 

There’s no reply as his eyes narrow in curiosity, judging your reaction, smirk slowly falling off of his face. 

“Is this all a joke to you?” You scoff, “You know what, no, I’m not doing this right now. I’m going home. Bandage yourself up, see if I give a shit if you bleed out.” Your movement is swift as you grab your bag and jacket, the only thing stopping you from stalking away is a sudden grip on your wrist. You don’t turn to look at him, instead trying to pull your hand away from him. Tears are already swelling in your eyes as you try to blink them away. You will not show weakness now. 

“The hunters are still out there, what will they say if someone sees you walking out of the Onychinus base?” His voice is no longer teasing, a more serious tone replacing the carefree one from earlier, “Stay here for now.” He pulls you back towards him, another hiss leaving his mouth as he jostles the wound on his side. 

“Sweetie? Look at me.” You still refuse to turn around, words caught in your throat. The sting from what he said still makes your heart ache. 

“Kitten, I was wrong. I’m sorry for insinuating that you wouldn’t care.” He says softly, voice trembling slightly as he continues, “I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but the one thing I don’t regret is keeping you safe, even if it risks my own wellbeing.” His hand moves to hold yours, thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

The frustration and hurt still simmer under your skin, and you finally turn to meet his eyes. 

“I can’t lose you Sylus. I care about you too fucking much. And I hate it, I tried to fight it, trust me. But I can’t help it. Is that wrong?” You let out an unamused laugh, a fresh set of tears filling your eyes. His eyes widen at your words before softening to a tender gaze. He pulled you towards him, until you were close enough for him to wrap his arms around your waist, his face nuzzling into your middle. 

“I can’t lose you either Kitten. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you while I was right there. Never once have I lied to you, so I won’t promise you that I won’t put myself in harm’s way if it means you’ll be okay, but I can promise you, you won’t lose me. I’m here and I plan to stay.” His voice is muffled against your shirt, his arms tightening before moving away just enough that he can look up at you. 

“I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but loving you is different. You make me feel things I never thought I could feel. It’s terrifying.” The words seem hesitant, a vulnerability he doesn’t seem quite ready to admit. 

The anger towards the man in front of you starts to melt away as you sigh. Your eyes close for a second, before opening and meeting his gaze. Your hands move to the sides of his face, cradling him gently. 

“I love you too Sylus, but if you ever do this again I’m going to kick your ass.” You pinch his cheeks slightly as you say this, before moving closer, your lips landing on his. His lips are slightly chapped against your own, but still incredibly smooth, gliding against yours.  His hands start to move up to your face, before he pulls away quickly, a grimace twisting his expression. You smile fondly, before moving to pick up the discarded bandage from the bed.

“Let’s get you bandaged up first.” 

[your-turn-to-role]

this is only one episode before bard's lament, too, which is my favourite episode for grog/percy stuff

because yeah, when they have this conversation, they don't know it's a matter of hours before their group explodes and everyone struggles to pick up the pieces in the aftermath

but the way percy and grog both respond to scanlan's outburst and decision to leave is exactly because of what you've written here!

percy does not cope well with losing people, and the more people he loses the worse it gets. he tries to hide it but it shines through at the seams, he has major abandonment issues because he can't lose another family like he lost his first one. and that's the reason he gets so angry at scanlan, and holds that grudge a full year until scanlan gets back (is still holding it for a while after that), because not only is he losing scanlan, but it's scanlan's choice. that kind of hurt and betrayal he can't forgive

i love his distant "i keep thinking i could just... shout, right now, and half a dozen guards would stop them" (and grog's following "yeah. it'd be half a dozen dead guards though." "what's half a dozen dead guards these days?"), because it's percy realising simultaneously that he has so much more power this time around than the last time he lost his family in this very castle, and yet at the same time, so much less. because the de rolos didn't choose to leave. scanlan did. percy could forcefully keep his family together this time, but at what cost? and is it even really still a family when it's your wishes against theirs? will you destroy your family for the sake of keeping it close?

and then you've got grog, who is the only member of vm capable of acting like a mature and rational person when scanlan leaves. he's sad, yeah, of course he is, scanlan's one of his best friends. but grog knows that sometimes you need space, and he trusts scanlan will come back when he's ready. he cares just as much as percy does, but he doesn't need to cling to their family in the same way because he has no regrets to haunt him.

grog is often silly but bard's lament (and the following episodes) shows us it's on purpose. when vm wants to scry on scanlan, and grog says no, vax tries to distract him by playing games, but grog stands his ground and ignores vax. he reminds them scanlan asked for privacy, and the least they can do is respect that. it's only once he has everyone's agreement that he turns back to vax and goes "okay now i'll play" with his usual grog lightheartedness. grog may have an intelligence of 6 but he's not ignorant, he understands what's going on when it comes to his family and the people he cares about. it's a choice to leave the bad behind and focus on keeping his family happy, because that's the kind of person he wants to be

(and i think you're absolutely right that percy sees that in grog, i've joked about percy being the grog whisperer but that understanding is another thing that comes through in the small moments if you have an eye out for it)

all of it culminating in my other favourite part of that conversation - "grog? i know we don't always agree and i know that i can be unkind, but... you know you're family, right?" "i don't know much. but i do know that." "it's... nice, having an older brother again."

i’m thinking about percy’s “i just miss an awful lot of people” speech again, and im thinking about all the wonderful commentary people have made about the things he said about his own grief and loss and death as he monologues. 

but more than that, i’m thinking about the last thing he says, to pike and grog. pike says “I understand” and he says “I know”, then grog tries so chime with “I just got it too.” and percy goes “I know you don’t, Grog. I’m so grateful that you don’t.”

and at face value, there’s definitely an element of ‘this is vulnerable for me, and i take mild comfort in knowing that not everyone is really privy to how much of my soul ive bared.’ but it also says so much about the sadness percy sees in his friends.

with pike, even though she has no horrible loss in her backstory, she feels sadness right into her core. her heart is so big and all-encompassing that she takes in sadness from everyone, friends or not. she feels sadness so strong that she oftentimes has to walk away from the party just to clean some of it up for others.

grog, on the other hand, knows deep loss, like percy does.

vox machina walked him to the doorstep of his demons in westruun, just like they did for percy the first time they came to whitestone. and they stood by and fought for grog, barely escaping with their lives, just as they did for percy. and they gave grog what little semblance of vengeance they could for the murder of his father and hatred he suffered from kevdak’s hand, just as they could for percy and the briarwoods.

the key difference, is that percy walks the halls of this building and turns every corner still expecting to see one of his brothers, but is met with vax or scanlan instead. percy lives among ghosts, no matter how hard his friends pull him down to earth. 

but grog picked up the titanstone knuckles and the blood axe, the exact same weapons that were used to throw him out of his own herd with disgust, and he did not pick up any of the ghosts that clung to the sides. he tore them from kevdak’s arms and cleaned the blood off and let those memories burn with his uncle’s body. he carries them with pride and with joy, and thinks only of the family who helped him retrieve them, it seems, rather than the family he lost to them.

and i think percy, who cares about him and finds his happiness contagious (though he may loathe to admit it), its very bittersweetly happy to know that even though to him, loss is a smothering coat, grog doesn’t really wear clothes.