#i love everyone laughing i had to include it

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

Contrary to Sebastian, William was always a fan of the relationship between Ronald and Sonia. Yes, Ron was a womanizer, but William thought that Sonia was tough enough to deal with his shenanigans, confident enough not to let him fool her with his usual smooth-talking ways, and badass enough to actually set him straight. And, honestly, looking at these two now William figured that he was right this whole time. They looked happy, teasing each other, and Ronald was actually so sweet towards Sonia. He let her win at the boxing machine, but frankly, William thought that Sonia could actually win either way. Now, she dragged him by the hand to the face-painting station, to get him his punishment. 

While they were gone, the rest of the group had a go at the boxing machine, just for fun. Eric got the best score out of everyone, and second place went to… Isa. She flexed her bicep playfully, all proud. Once Ronald and Sonia returned about half an hour later, Ronald’s face was entirely covered in paint, a huge, colourful butterfly painted all over him. “I chose the most embarrassing design I could find.” Sonia laughed.

“I wanted to be something scary for Halloween, though…” Ronald complained a little, but still had a huge grin on his face, finding this amusing either way. He just liked it when Sonia was happy like that.

“Well, you’re something silly, because you cheated and threw the fakest, weakest punch.” Sonia stuck her tongue out at him.

Alan and Eric actually had to go get ready for their duet then, so they left the group for now, to head backstage and prepare for their turn. They left Abby under William’s care. William was very thrilled about that, as he loved all pets, including cute doggies. Sebastian was less thrilled. 

But since it was almost time for the adult performances to start, the group moved closer to the stage there, to find themselves spots to sit. 

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[bloomstream]

omg hii bloom!! i love your works so much so can i request

headcannons 4 mha boys /w their cheerleader girlfriend !!

⋆˚࿔ cheer fever

synopsis: being the mha boys cheer captain girlfriend! (,,>﹏<,,)

— includes: kirishima + kaminari + sero (in that order)

𓂃　♪　𓈒 cw: f!reader, fluff, established relationship

𓂃　★ 𓈒 a/n: wait i love this request too it’s so wholesome. no shinsou this time cus i can’t envision him here, sorry 😓

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is your sweet jock boyfriend, making you the typical football player x cheerleader couple.

following this trope; your boyfriend is so obsessed with seeing you in his variety jacket. literally gets cuteness aggression and pinches your cheeks.

eijiro LOVES when you’re in your cheer uniform. everytime time he sees you in it he fumbles over his words trying to explain how good you look!

he gets so flustered when he sees you cheering for him on the sidelines. it gives him so much motivation knowing your cheering for him.

after a game he runs straight to you and spins you around, kissing you alllll over. “we did it!” he believes you give him all the strength he had to play (you do).

walks you home after cheer practice.

one time you got him flowers to celebrate his last game of the season. when he saw them, he cried because he got you flowers too! the biggest sweetheart ever.

half of his post on social media are of the both of you after games! he always posts on his story letting people know that his team will be playing and that you’ll be cheering as well. he’s so supportive.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

denki is a loser, everyone knows. so everyone is also confused on how he bagged the most attractive cheerleader in the school.

he brags to EVERYONE about you, it’s a bit embarrassing, but still charming.. “oh yeah, my girlfriend!? she’s the cheer captain!” (no one asked)

forces his friends to come to games so they can help him support you. he’d bring a huge sign with glitter and your name spelt with macaroni while screaming “that’s my girlfriend!!”

still a flirty dork; “need help with your stretching exercises?” randomly asks you to do flips and splits because he genuinely thinks it’s cool.

tried to learn how to braid hair so he can do your game day hair, but he’s not very good at it </3 still, he helps apply your glitter and lipgloss.

no need to hire a photographer because denki will take an album full of photos of you when you're cheering.

after games he gives you a big hug and kisses the crown of your head. “another amazing job, you never miss.” he’ll also take you shopping after special occasions.

+ wore your cheer uniform as a joke once but ended up really liking it on himself.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

chill boyfriend x cheerleader girlfriend: you guys are a power couple.

hanta was kind oblivious about cheer at first so he does a lot of research to make sure he’s supporting you properly. and he does it every time; chocolates, flowers, and small gifts.

when you tell him he had the body and muscle to be a cheerleader (mostly joking) he freaks and offers to help you practice. he quickly becomes your spot when you're practicing at home!

hanta is obsessed with hearing the drama going on between you and your cheer team, “no way she said that! seriously, she needs to pick a struggle.”

carries all your makeup and equipment wherever you need it.

fixes your bow/skirt and gives you a big smooch before each game. if he notices that you’re nervous before a performance he’ll give you the silliest pep talk to make you laugh. “go out there and show them what you got, yeah?”

when you’re studying together, he’ll beg you to ‘cheer’ him on. sometimes you decide to give him that pleasure just to see that wide grin on his face.

[lazysoulwriter]

Cramps, Chaos, and Cuddles - Pedro Pascal.

Pedro knew something was off the moment he stepped into the apartment. The energy in the air was different—dense, almost vibrating with an unseen force. And then he saw you, curled up on the couch, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the TV as if it had personally offended you.

Oh. It was one of those days.

He treaded carefully, removing his shoes and placing his keys down with the gentleness of a surgeon handling a heart transplant. "Hey, baby."

You barely spared him a glance. "Hi."

Yep. Definitely one of those days.

Pedro tilted his head, observing you like a detective at a crime scene. "How bad is it? On a scale of 'mildly irritated' to 'burning the world down'?"

Your glare snapped to him. "Shut up."

He raised his hands in surrender, fighting the amused smirk threatening to break through. "Okay. Just gathering data."

He walked toward the couch and—mistake number one—tried to sit next to you.

"No. Absolutely not."

Pedro froze mid-squat. "No?"

"I don’t want you near me right now."

"Ouch." He clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me, baby."

You shot him a deadpan look. "I’m serious. I feel like shit. I hate everything and everyone. Including you."

He gasped. "Me? What did I do?"

"Exist."

Pedro bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Okay, fair. Can I do anything to help?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temple. "I already took medicine, but my cramps still suck. My head hurts. The light is too bright. The air is too air-y. Everything is annoying."

He nodded solemnly. "Sounds rough. Allow me to fix what I can."

First, he dimmed the lights, plunging the room into a cozy, softer glow. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a heating pad, placing it gently against your stomach without a word. You grumbled but adjusted it until it sat just right.

He wasn't done.

Pedro vanished again and returned with a glass of water and a small plate of chocolate. He set them on the coffee table before kneeling beside you, resting his chin on the cushion near your arm.

"Now, can I give my baby some love?" he asked, pouting like a kicked puppy.

You glared at him for a few long seconds, trying—really trying—to hold onto your irritation. But those big brown eyes, the way he practically radiated warmth and patience… it was unfair.

Your resolve cracked.

"Fine. But only because you tried really hard."

He grinned triumphantly, sliding onto the couch beside you. "I’ll take it."

Pedro pulled you gently into his arms, letting you rest against his chest. His hands moved in slow, soothing circles against your back, and the heat from his body combined with the heating pad made you melt just a little.

"See? Isn’t this better?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You hummed, neither confirming nor denying. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing was enough to lull you into a half-doze.

Then, just as you were fully relaxing, he pressed a dramatic, exaggerated kiss against your cheek with a loud "Mwah!"

You groaned. "Pedro."

Another kiss, this time to your jaw. "What?"

"Stop."

He kissed your temple. "But I love you."

A sigh. "I know."

"And you love me."

"I tolerate you."

He gasped again, clutching his chest. "So cruel. And here I am, taking care of you like a devoted boyfriend—"

"Pedro."

"Yes, baby?"

You finally turned to face him properly, your arms wrapping around his waist as you burrowed into his warmth. "Shut up and keep cuddling me."

He smiled against your hair. "Yes, ma'am."

And with that, he held you closer, peppering your face with softer, gentler kisses, whispering sweet nothings until all the tension melted away. Because no matter how grumpy, irritated, or downright impossible you felt—Pedro would always be there, ready to love you through it all.

[faunandfloraas]

I am fairly over the continued "let's make seungmin the butt of the joke" thing. Not bc he's a poor little baby or something, he purposely courts that attention /sometimes/ but because it's frequently unfunny and like. Been done way too many times? Like when those moments organically happen, they can be good fun but lately it's just forced and I'm like Oh this again?

[veritas-scribblings]

skirt - @into-the-jeggyverse - words: 889

James appears out of nowhere like some sort of apparition. It’s winter, past curfew, and it’s been dark since 5pm. Regulus is flushed and half-frozen from the cold, his extremities damned near freezing off. But just as James has appeared out of absolutely nowhere, his proposition also comes out of equally as nowhere. 

So Regulus hits him square in the chest with a, “you’re bloody insane.” 

“Come on!” The plea comes out of James as a whine. Eagerly, like a boy on Christmas morning, he bounces on his heels and stares at Regulus with the biggest damned puppy dog eyes that Regulus has ever seen. 

“I’m a prefect.” Regulus bustles past, heading back down the long, winding corridor. He’s a prefect, and he’s cold, and his fingers have frostbite and his nose has frostbite and for wizards—wizards with magic, mind you—they just don’t heat the castle very well. And he’s certain that Barty has warmed up the dormitory with his famous heating charm because everyone knows, Regulus included, that Regulus can be a bitch and a half when he’s cold and tired and cranky.

“You’re a stick in the mud, is what you are,�� James says coyly. 

And it almost works. It hits Regulus in his sensitive spot: his pride. Regulus is not a stick in the mud, thank you. He’s all for breaking the rules, thank you. He just does it cleverly, almost underhanded. He’s not loud and abrasive about it, because he’s not a Gryffindor. He’s a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. 

“It’ll be fun,” James sidles up to Regulus, who has picked up the pace, “It’ll be romantic.”

“Freezing my arse off on a broomstick in the middle of winter when it’s snowing is your idea of romance?” 

James sighs dramatically and steps directly into Regulus’s path, backing him up against a wall. “I’m not going to see you over Christmas,” he crowds closer, pressed almost directly up against Regulus who can feel the heat from James’s body, because James always runs so hot, “that’s two weeks. I’ll go into withdrawal…”

Regulus arches an eyebrow. He’s almost convinced, he’s almost convinced. With James so close that Regulus can feel his breath on his skin, how can he not be? “Are you suggesting I’m drugging you…?”

“No, I’m implying that you are a drug. I’ll miss you.”

“I’m here right now,” Regulus says, his voice slightly shaky. From the cold. From the close proximity that has his hands shaking and his heart thudding and the blood in his veins warming. “Inside. Where it’s not snowing…”

“We could be outside. Where it is snowing. I love the snow.” James, damned him to through all seven levels of hell, slips his hands into Regulus’s robe. Even through all the layers of shirt and undershirt and jumper Regulus is wearing, Regulus swears he can feel James’s skin.

He’s spent too many nights dreaming about the feel of James’s skin.

“Reguluses aren’t made to be in the snow,” he says, though it doesn’t sound convincing to himself anymore, "Reguluses aren’t meant to be outside at all…”

James chuckles. His breath puffs against Regulus’s cheeks. Up close, Regulus can see the flecks of brown and amber in his eyes, the V of the cupids bow of his full lips. Feels his hands, which have moved up to cup the back of Regulus’s neck, fingers curled into his hair. Feels the thud of James’s heart beat…or is that his own?

And then James steps back and hums thoughtfully.

And fuck it all to hell.

Regulus thinks he must have sworn. He didn’t hear or feel it himself, but James’s laugh and his, “Language, Reg,” implies he must have. 

They’ve barely kissed. They have, but they haven’t, because James had declared he has plans to “court you, it’ll be a thorough courting, you will feel so romanced and courted after this, I’m a gentleman, I don’t dare to presume,” which Regulus thinks might actually be James trying to figure everything out, particularly how to tell Sirius and not get murdered by Walburga and Orion, before debauching the heir to the House of Black.

But Regulus has hit, “fuck the rules and fuck gentlemanly courtesy,” about 100 kilometres back. He doesn’t want chaste kisses stolen in hidden corridors. He wants proper kisses. He wants lips and tongues and limbs and lightning and all the exciting things that make his blood sing.

“Okay,” James says, nodding. “I understand. I bid thee goodnight, fair prince.” He steps back and offers an elaborate bow, because James Potter is truly a bit of an idiot.

“What?” Regulus looks around hastily. It’s past 10pm now, long past curfew and the end of his prefect rounds, but anyone could be watching. “We can be indoors doing…indoor things.”

“No, no,” James gives a crooked smile; the bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, “I don’t dare to presume. I am not the presumptuous kind. You should be where it’s warm…”

“…indoors, doing indoor things…”

“…absolutely.”

“…together. We can go to the astronomy tower and…talk…”

“The astronomy tower where it’s…open air…and…not warm?” 

James cocks his head to the side and blinks, giving Regulus the most ridiculously demure expression that anyone could possibly ever wear. 

Actually, maybe Regulus is the one who is the idiot.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

End of the First Season

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

After the season wrapped up, I finally found a moment of calm. The chaos of F1 had slowed, and I was allowed a little breathing room. But even with the peace, I couldn't shake the constant ache in my body. I thought the bruising I had gotten from the Abu Dhabi crash would eventually subside, but it never did. Every day, it seemed to hurt a little more, so I finally caved and went to the doctor to get checked out.

I wasn’t prepared for the news. It wasn’t just bruising. My ribs had cracked, and so had a bone in my right forearm. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no wonder I’d been hurting so much. But, being me, I just shrugged it off. If there was one thing I’d learned over this crazy season, it was how to power through. And if I could make it through that wreck, I could handle a couple cracked bones, right?

I needed to break the news, of course, but I had a little fun with it. I posted on Instagram, sharing all the high points of my 2024 season—my wins, my podiums, the laughs, the frustrations. But as the last picture in the post, I slid in a photo collage of my X-rays. Just for the shock value, of course. 

The response was exactly what I expected. I saw the comments flood in—fans, media, and especially the drivers. They were all so concerned, immediately freaking out about me being in pain, even though I was smiling through it all. Some of the messages I got were hilarious, like Lando calling me crazy for not telling him sooner. “You’re seriously not a robot, right?” he texted me, complete with a couple of eye-roll emojis.

And then there was Max. Max Verstappen. He was texting me every five minutes, demanding I go see another doctor. "You should’ve told me. I would've taken care of it for you." Like he was going to fly out to Monaco just to be my personal healthcare assistant. I almost laughed at how protective he was being, but honestly, it was sweet.

Liam, of course, had the most dramatic reaction. "y/n, what the hell?! Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he practically screamed down the phone. "This could’ve been a big deal! You could’ve been seriously hurt!"

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Liam, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with it. It’s just some cracked bones.”

But he wasn’t having it. "That’s not something you ‘just deal with.’ You need to get checked out, properly. I’m seriously getting worried now."

At that point, I had to assure him—no more freaking out. Everyone was so sweet, though. Even Carlos sent a message telling me to take it easy and that he was looking forward to seeing me next season. “Just don’t go crashing again, okay?”

I even caught a text from Fernando, who simply said: “You’re strong, but next time… maybe take it easy?”

The support from all the drivers was overwhelming, but honestly, it was what I needed. The kind words, the check-ins, it made me feel like I had a big family backing me up.

I had also made the decision recently to buy an apartment in Monaco. It wasn’t something I’d planned at first, but Lando convinced me it was the perfect move. He was all about the idea of having me live close by so we could hang out in the off-season when I wasn’t visiting family back in the U.S. Plus, Monaco seemed like the kind of place where I could really start fresh, living on my own but still be surrounded by people who understood the craziness of F1 life. Lando lives just above me, and we joke that I’m now not on "Lando’s level".

It’s been nice, honestly. I can walk around without the chaos of a race weekend looming over me, and sometimes, it feels like a different world entirely. Having drivers around gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I’m never too far from a friend, and I love that Lando is nearby for spontaneous hangouts. He’s been a solid support system, and having him in Monaco means I never really feel alone. It’s just nice, knowing that someone’s always nearby, especially after everything I’ve been through.

Franco and I were sitting in the lounge of my new Monaco apartment, just a couple of glasses of wine between us as we talked about the future. There was this quiet tension in the air—nothing too obvious, but we both knew what it felt like. He was leaning back on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what’s next for me, to be honest. Alpine offered me a reserve driver contract with them, but it's basically the same thing I have at Williams. The only real difference is that they are telling me they will take Jack out of his seat if he doesn’t do well. So I get paid more and have a more likely chance at racing again with them or I get loyalty points and probably never seat the steering wheel for another season with Williams.” His voice carried this layer of frustration I hadn’t heard from him before. He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see the weight of it all on him. He wasn’t the kind to complain, but I knew how badly he wanted that full-time seat. I could tell by how hard he fought to stay on the grid this season.

“Don’t let them make you feel like you have to settle,” I said softly, my words maybe a little more sincere than I meant them to be. He was one of the most talented drivers I knew, and he deserved to have a seat that would recognize that.

He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? The grid’s stacked, and Alpine knows I’ll have to take what I can get. But I don’t know… maybe it’s not where I want to be.”

There was a pause between us, and I watched him carefully, sensing that this was more than just a conversation about racing for him. It felt like the moment he was letting himself be real, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.

“Franco,” I started, but the words faltered in my mouth. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, not when I knew what was next for me. He had been my rock in so many ways this season, and now it was my turn to be there for him. But it felt like something more was hanging in the air, something unsaid.

He met my eyes, and for a moment, there was this quiet, unspoken connection. “I don’t want to leave, you know?” he whispered, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to me. “But I don’t know if I have another option.”

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I just leaned over and put a hand on his arm, my fingers gently brushing his sleeve. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in silence, letting the quiet of the room fill in the gaps of our thoughts. When finally a thought came to me, “You know, I was in the same predicament before becoming Aston Martin’s Reserve driver?” 

He shook his head, not making eye contact yet. “Before Aston Martin I was driving only as a test driver for Redbull, no chance at racing only at being available when their own drivers reserve or not couldn’t be there. Then Aston Martin came to me with a contract, be their reserve driver. A team with a literal multi world champion driver and a driver who was the owner of the team’s son. So basically, my only chance at driving was someone getting sick or hurt. Or I could stay with my red bull contract and earn loyalty points but probably still never see the steering wheel during a real race.” I looked at him, seeing his expression change. “It was a tough decision but I listed out the pros and cons of each. In the end, Aston Martin gave me the most potential to grow into the F1 world.”

Then, he looked at me, and there was this flicker in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Something that felt real, honest. And I knew in that moment that we were both feeling it—that subtle pull between us. But neither of us said anything about it. Instead, we just let it linger, both of us too scared to do anything about it. “So what I think you need to do is think about what would help you grow or just what you want to do for your future? Is your future still F1 with Williams? Or do you want to explore other options to see what happens?”

His expression changed to one almost deep in thought. I pulled my hand back, giving him a small smile. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, even though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

He smiled back, a little half-hearted, but genuine. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“Same here,” I replied, my voice softer than I meant it to be. And for a moment, it felt like we were more than just teammates, more than just friends. But neither of us made a move. We just stayed there, pretending it was enough to be in each other’s company, not acknowledging the unspoken feelings simmering beneath the surface.

The moment passed, and we both knew it. But neither of us could shake the feeling that things had changed, even if just a little.

Post-season testing was in full swing, and I found myself behind the wheel of a Red Bull. Well, technically, it was a VCARB test, but they had thrown me and Yuki into the main team’s car—basically the 2024 title-winning machine before it would be slightly modified for our ‘junior’ team.

The car felt incredible. The downforce, the grip, the way it responded to even the slightest inputs—I had driven a strong car before, but this? This was on another level. It was a taste of what could be possible with the right setup, and I couldn’t help but grin every time I pushed it through a turn.

“Oi, don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Yuki’s voice came through the radio as we wrapped up a practice run. “You still have to share it next year.”

I laughed, pulling into the pits and hopping out, only to be immediately greeted by VCARB’s social media team. I had already been warned that their content crew was… a little too good at capturing moments. The internet had already fallen in love with the way Yuki and I had been interacting over the past few weeks, posting clips of our playful bickering, him teaching me random Japanese phrases, or me teasing him about his food choices.

Case in point—before I even had my helmet off, Yuki was standing beside me, pointing at my water bottle with an accusing glare. “You forgot to drink again, we never saw the water button activate”

I groaned. “I was driving.”

He snatched the bottle out of the table and unscrewed the lid. “Drink. Now.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, taking a sip just to get him off my back.

Of course, VCARB’s media team caught the whole thing, and I had no doubt it would be on their Instagram story in minutes.

Later that evening, while cooling down after the day’s sessions, I found myself sketching out ideas for my new helmet. My current design had meant so much to me, but with a new chapter starting, I felt like I needed something fresh. Something that still honored my journey but signified a step forward.

I sat in the VCARB lounge, my sketchbook open in front of me, absentmindedly doodling designs. Maybe something sleeker, sharper—still keeping the essence of my previous helmets, but with a modern touch. I knew I wanted to incorporate the sea turtle shadow again, but this time, maybe in a way that intertwined with something symbolic for myself.

Yuki plopped down beside me, peering over my shoulder. “You’re making it blue, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I drive for VCARB now doesn’t mean my entire identity is changing.”

He grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t put at least a little VCARB energy into it, I’ll be offended.”

I smirked. “I’ll think about it.”

Truthfully, this whole transition was already feeling better than I had expected. The team was welcoming, the car felt strong, and Yuki had quickly become an easy person to be around. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had something solid to look forward to with my future in this sport.

Now, I just had to survive another season of teasing from Yuki and VCARB’s relentless social media team.

Netflix: Drive to Survive – Post-Season Interview

The cameras were rolling, the dim lighting of the Drive to Survive interview room setting the scene. I sat in the chair, legs crossed, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap as the producers got everything settled. It felt weird, really. Looking back on the season as if it was just a chapter in a book rather than something I had physically, emotionally, and mentally endured.

The interviewer gave me a reassuring smile before jumping straight into it.

“This was your rookie season—or, well, partial rookie season. And it wasn’t exactly an easy one. How do you even begin to reflect on everything that happened?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. It was the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I don’t think I ever imagined just how much this season would take out of me—physically, mentally. I came into it with so much to prove, knowing that I wasn’t even guaranteed a seat for next year. Then the Vegas crash happened, and suddenly everything shifted. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up—again.”

“You mentioned the Vegas crash—arguably one of the scariest moments of the season. How much did that affect you going forward?”

I swallowed, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek. “It’s weird because at the time, I was just focused on getting back in the car. I didn’t want to sit out, I didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt me. But looking back? I should’ve given myself more time. I was hiding injuries, pushing through pain I didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t until after Abu Dhabi, when I finally went to a doctor, that I realized I had been racing with cracked ribs and a fractured forearm. That… that hit me hard. Not just because I knew I had been reckless with my own health, but because it made me realize just how much I feared losing my place here.”

“And now, even after proving yourself with a few Grand Prix wins, multiple podiums, and signing with Cadillac, you’re still facing uncertainty. How does that feel?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah… it’s tough. I signed with Cadillac for 2026, which is exciting, but next year? I’m on loan with VCARB. It’s a temporary situation. There’s no telling how things will go, how I’ll fit into the team, how the car will perform. And then after that, I’m moving to a completely new team, a completely new project, which—don’t get me wrong—is an incredible opportunity, but also terrifying. I won’t have the stability that some of these other drivers have. I don’t get to settle in and build a team around me. I have to constantly prove myself, adapt, and just hope that everything works out.”

“Do you think about that often? The uncertainty of it all?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Every damn day. But that’s the sport, isn’t it? You never really know where you stand until half through the season. I just have to trust that I’m here for a reason.”

“You had a lot of support from fellow drivers this season, some of them clearly becoming very close to you. How much did that mean, especially in a year as chaotic as this one?”

I smiled at that, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this season without them. Lando, Max, Lewis, Carlos, Franco—they all helped me in different ways. Max was like this overprotective older brother, always making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, which—ironic, considering it’s Max Verstappen we’re talking about.” I laughed. “Lewis was there in a more subtle way, just letting me talk through things when I needed to. Carlos and Lando, well… they made sure I never took myself too seriously. And Franco… Franco understood in a way no one else could.”

“Speaking of Franco, He’s not on the grid next year, but you are. What is that like?”

I exhaled softly. “It is hard. Franco deserved a seat just as much as anyone else. He knows that. We have had a moment together where we both acknowledged that, no matter what happens, we’ll always support each other. But it’s bittersweet. I’m moving forward, but I don’t get to have him there with me next season. It’s just another reminder of how brutal this sport is.”

“Despite all of that, you still seem… excited.”

I let a small smirk tug at my lips. “I mean, yeah. It’s terrifying, but it’s also incredible. I get to drive a Formula 1 car for another season. I get to be part of the chaos. And, hey, if nothing else—at least Yuki and I are going to make VCARB’s social media team’s lives very entertaining next year.”

The interviewer chuckled. “That’s for sure. Final question—if you could say one thing to the version of yourself that started this season, what would it be?”

I sat with that for a moment, thinking. Then, with a slow, deep breath, I met the interviewer’s gaze.

“I’d tell her she should allow herself to lean on her friends more, to allow her grid family to help her when situations go downhill. But even when they get terrifyingly bad, she’s gonna get through it, after all, mama didn’t raise no bitch” I smiled mischeviously knowing that was the last question and while I had done well the entire time not swearing, the last word would have to be beeped for tv.

Pre-Season testing

My first partial season had long ended. The whirlwind of emotions, the battles on and off track, the celebrations, the heartbreaks—it had all been wrapped up into one chaotic, unforgettable year. And yet, as I stood there now, staring at the package in front of me, I realized it was only the beginning.

The VCARB garage was quieter than I had ever heard it. No roaring engines, no frantic radio chatter, just the distant hum of mechanics working in the background as the pre-season test wound down. Yuki had already disappeared somewhere—probably off to grab snacks or cause some minor chaos—and the crew had mostly filtered out, leaving just a handful of us behind.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the box, my name printed in bold letters on the lid. This was it. A new chapter. A new beginning. A new identity.

I glanced up at the lead designer, who gave me a small nod, encouraging me to lift the lid.

My heart pounded as I peeled back the protective wrap, the first glimpse of my brand-new helmet catching the dim garage light. I inhaled sharply, my fingers brushing over the surface, tracing the details I had agonized over for weeks. This wasn’t just a helmet. It was a statement. A promise.

A warning.

Something is coming.

I smiled to myself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, that unwavering hunger for what came next.

The season was over.

But the story was far from finished.

[anon-sect]

Picture source and story requested by @mavin1227

Spencer was given the task of picking up the cake for a surprise birthday party for his friend, Zachary. Zachary was being kept away from the house by a group of their friends to make sure he didn't find out. He had gotten to the bakery and recieved the cake that was specially ordered.

On the way back, Spencer had hit a few bumps in the road and realized that he didn't secure the cake well enough as the box with the cake in it turned over from the seat on the the floor. Once he got to a red light, he lifted the box up to see the cake was totally ruined. He drove back to Zachary's house upset about the cake. He didn't know how to fix this since the suprise birtday party was in thirty minutes.

As he brought the box in and revealed the ruined cake, he saw the upset look on Zander's face. Zander was Zachary's twin brother. He was the one who ordered the cake.

"What happened to it?" Zander asked, all upset since his twin brother would be back to the house in thirty minutes.

"I thought I had it secured in the seat well enough. One bad bump made it fall to the floor. I am really sorry about that." Spencer explained. "I wish I could fix this problem." He added feeling remorse over the ruined cake.

Zander had the perfect idea of how to fix things before Zachary got back with the group. "There is a way, actually. I need you to just sit here on the table for a brief moment." He spoke to his twin brother's friend.

Spencer didn't know how that would help, but he sat on the table.

Zander put in the specfics of the ordered cake in the app and hit flash. Spencer was gone and in his place was a replacement cake just like the one he ordered. He put the box with the ruined cake in the trash and placed the new cake on a plate. "Nice, I think my brother will like the cake I ordered for him." He pasued ss he licked his lips looking at the cake. "I wonder how you will taste, I so can't wait for Zachary to slice into you." He laughed as he went to join the others waiting for the birthday boy to come home.

Spencer came into distress as he realized what Zander had just told him. He was turned into a replacement cake. Zackary had at least twenty people coming to his surprise party. He was about to be eaten, completely unaware of the other guest. He couldn't move or speak his protest. He never thought he would literally be the cake at his friend's party. He just sat there waiting for what would happen next.

Zachary truly was surprised when he got back home. I really enjoyed his surprise party. He was even more surpised when Zander showed him his birthday cake. He loved it. He took a quick picture in front of it before getting the knife to slice into his cake.

Spencer was mentally pleading for anyone to hear him. Everyone was enjoying the moment, including his friend as he was given the knife to slice the cake. He was powerless to stop what was about to happen next, as Zachary sliced into him with ease. The sharpe knife hurt so badly. He felt the knife slice into him again. He thought his agony couldn't get worse. He found that to be wrong. As a piece of him was place on a paper plate and handed to Zachary. A plastic fork cut into that piece and went into his friend's mouth. He could feel his friend chew on him and enjoying it.

"This cake is just perfert. Thanks, Zander." Zachary spoke as he continued to eat his slice of cake.

"You welcome, bro." Zander answered back and just smiled.

"By the way, I thought Spencer had come to my party. Someone said he was here earlier." Zachary asked, wondering where he could be.

"He was here. He said an emergency came up and he had to leave. He didn't tell me what it was, just that he would see you later on." Zander explained, hiding his twist grin. Spencer was still here. It was just that everyone was eating a piece of him.

Spencer was in agony as multiple mouths were chomping on him at the same time. It was horrible as each of them swallowed pieces of himself down into their stomachs. He felt his own existence completely go away as the last of him was swallowed by a party guest and dissolving in their stomach.

Zander was pleased that everyone loved the cake. Not a single piece was left of Spencer. Spencer would soon be a missing person who they will never find. But he did make a delicous cake, he had to agree with himself.

[eternaljeon]

i just need to rant for a sec...

the whole idea that azriel only lusts after elain, simply because he hadn't gotten that far in his planning for a future with her, doesn't explain everything else in the text we've been given. it doesn't provide solid ground for anyone else to get their shot with him, either...

this man was in love with mor for 500 years. so much so that it was easily noticed and pointed out by everyone. everyone knew how he felt, the same way they all knew, mor included, that he was never going to act on it. and those closest to him had no idea what really went through his mind all that time. he never opened up to them, he never allowed anyone to read him past the obvious longing.

he never tried. he never fought. he never asked questions. he just accepted it as it was.

why? because he didn't think that he was worthy of mor, he thought she would be happier without him. he admitted to feyre that he'd been alive for centuries and still didn't know where he truly belonged. he tells us that his shadows are truly the only consistent company he has ever had. who he will always have.

rhys tells us that there will come a day when azriel has to decide if he is going to fight for her or let her go, and that it won’t be because some other male insults her or beds her. do you know what that implies? that he has to confront his feelings, that he has to make the decision to fight or let go, and that azriel’s choice will be based on his own emotional growth and understanding of their relationship.

and what has been pointed out to us beyond that in the story? what has feyre noticed, what has nesta and cassian noticed?

a significant change.

a headache powder that could honestly be seen as a silly, fun little gift, is the one thing he's admitted to staring at on his nightstand for over a year. is something that had him tipping his head back to laugh, a sound feyre had never heard before, dark and joyous. that same night, it's him and elain in the sitting room at three in the morning. him listening to elain's gardening plans while everyone else had gone off to sleep.

when he's standing in the doorway and not with the rest of his family by the fire, a pretty lie is told to cover up his truth. 'his secret to tell, never hers,' accompanied by a comforting squeeze because nesta takes a quick look around and understands exactly why he's keeping himself away.

and cassian... bless him, has said he has not had to be a buffer for him and mor as often. he notes that azriel is finally letting go, after centuries, and can't understand why that is. what's changed?

there could be honorable mentions in there as well... mor humming after discussing elain returning truth-teller, the blade azriel had never before let anyone else touch. amren smirking over her glass. rhys stopping their near kiss before they got in way over their heads.

but then we come to find out that azriel, despite how much he might want elain, keeps himself away for a reason. the sight and smell of her mating bond is something he can't stand to be around. so instead, he avoids her, his family, and stays in the HoW and trains late into the night when he can't sleep. he pleasures himself to thoughts of her when his own shadows are too tired to stay up with him. and even still, he looks at that same gift on his nightstand.

'this will be invaluable.'

again, this man who doesn't believe he's worthy, doesn't believe he deserves to have what others have, thinks he's sullied beyond belief because of what he's done, has let go and moved on. and even still, he has never had a reason to question anything further. has never loved someone who has shown any interest in him, who has loved or wanted him back. he has never been a choice.

all he can do is want, and need, and desire. all he can do is stare longingly at a gift that shows him someone has paid attention to him. has spent even the slightest bit of their time trying to understand him. see him when others can't.

and when he finds out that for once, the girl he wants actually wants him back, chooses him instead of walking away, he's supposed to have everything figured out? he's supposed to suddenly believe the idea of a future, with a mate or otherwise, is possible for him? that a pipe dream he's already spent centuries on, might actually be possible for him now?

no. because elain is mated. her mate, in fact, is in the same house. they had never let it get that far before. only glances and brushes of their fingers was ever allowed. he had no idea if she felt the same. even though he knows that she is well aware of why he isn't around as much, why he chooses to stay away.

he understands her, too. more than anyone else has ever tried to do. no one truly sees her, remember?

but in that one moment, when she breathes 'yes,' ... 'offer and permission,' looking into his eyes openly, with so much trust and hope, he thinks it's okay to be selfish just once. to allow himself the chance to taste. just that once and that'll be it. because a reality where he gets to have anything with her isn't possible, she was already given to another.

so, tell me how he is supposed to answer rhys' questions after that? how is he supposed to be this perfect, unflawed character with all the right answers when all his life the things he's wanted never mattered? love, a mate, a future with children? it doesn't matter what he wants. he doesn't think that he deserves it, and he's already admitted that to us. he doesn't allow himself to think, or plan beyond a significant moment in time because he's never been allowed to.

he's never been given a reason to.

but do you know what we did get after that moment? him asking a question, 'what if the cauldron was wrong?' one he had never dared ask out loud before, not in all that time he spent pining after mor. why then, in that specific moment, would he be willing to ask? if he only cares about elain on a physical level, why ask a question that raises the stakes and changes the game for him entirely?

why then would he try to fight for anything at all if he already knows the outcome? if he already knows he doesn't deserve her? if he knows she's mated to another even if it doesn't make sense to him?

these are the right questions. these are the questions people need to be asking themselves, because these are the ones we're going to get the answers to. these questions tie into his entire emotional arc.

he's not the bad boy some people think he is. he's not an asshole in one person’s story and the hero in someone else's. he's been the same guy that was always right in front of us, we have just been given more of him to see.

[sophsbookstore]

Cookies Included

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1500

A/N: posting all my hockey drafts! NHL master list (hopefully) come soon

Auston Matthews was in the kitchen, trying his best to look serious as he watched you roll out dough for the cookies. You were wearing one of his old jerseys—an oversized, cozy thing—and you looked so focused that it made Auston grin despite his best efforts to look like he was helping.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re making all of these,” he said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, but his eyes never left you. “You're going to make me the most popular guy on the plane. I’ll have everyone on the team eating out of my hand with these.”

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder. “You know, it’s not just about getting you brownie points with the guys. I’ve been practicing these recipes, and I want them to be perfect.”

Auston’s face lit up. “So you’re baking for me, then?”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Well, I’m baking for you, but you’ll have to share with your teammates. No choice there, Mr. Popular.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re making me share your cookies? I feel like that’s a crime.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love a little attention,” you teased, rolling the dough out with the kind of precision that spoke to your inner perfectionist. “Besides, you know you’ll look good bringing these snacks Matthews.”

His lips curled into a grin. “I always look good, what are you talking about?”

You were in the middle of cutting out the first batch of cookies when Auston stepped up behind you. His broad chest was warm against your back, and he placed his hands on the counter, peering over your shoulder. “I’m really good at decorating, you know. I could help with that part.”

You snorted, unable to hold it in. “Oh, yeah? I’m sure your ‘skills’ could rival those of a professional pastry chef.”

“Hey, I’ve got an eye for detail,” he said, his tone playful but feigning confidence. “Watch and learn.”

You handed him a piping bag filled with icing and grinned. “Alright, show me what you got, Matthews.”

Auston took the bag and squeezed it, but the icing didn’t come out in the neat little swirl he was hoping for. Instead, it splattered across the cookie in a way that could only be described as abstract art.

He glanced at you with wide eyes. “Huh.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “That’s... not exactly what I envisioned when I asked for ‘decorating help.’ But nice try.”

Auston gave you a sheepish smile and then leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Okay, fine. I might not be a decorator, but I’m a pro at eating them. So, I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you. I’ll just be your official taste tester.”

“You can taste-test all you want, but you’re not getting out of this,” you replied with a smirk as you skillfully decorated the next batch of cookies, leaving the ones he had touched to the side. “You’re still helping me. You’ve got two hands, Auston. Use them.”

“I’ll use one hand for icing, and the other hand for… well, more eating.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing your cheeks to heat up, though you tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

He just chuckled, stepping back to give you room to finish the batch. “It’s hard to resist when I’ve got such a cute baker in front of me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling your heart race a little. “Are you flirting with me while covered in icing?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Auston said with a wink. “But seriously, you look adorable, even when you’re criticizing my decorating skills.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. “Stop being so charming,” you said, trying to focus on piping icing onto the last batch of cookies. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

He grinned like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re welcome.”

After a while, the cookies were ready. You’d decorated them with a mix of simple designs and some that were a little more chaotic thanks to Auston’s input. The cookies were definitely an interesting mix of perfectly neat and totally offbeat. But you’d made them with love, and that was what mattered.

Auston packed them up carefully, grabbing the container and wrapping it up in cling wrap. “Alright, time to go. I’ve got a plane to catch and a team of hungry guys waiting for these. Let’s just hope they’re good enough to forgive the, uh, artistic choices we made.”

“They’ll love them,” you said, your confidence back. “They may look weird, but they’ll taste amazing. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.”

“Just like you know what you’re doing to my heart, huh?” Auston shot you a playful wink as he lifted the container with one hand.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Okay, smooth talker. Go give the guys their cookies before you get too cocky.”

Auston leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading toward the door. “I’ll text you after the game. Promise I’ll save a couple for us when I get back.”

“Don’t you dare eat all of them,” you called after him with a laugh.

“I can’t make any promises,” he teased back, his voice fading as he walked out of the apartment, leaving you with a smile that stayed with you long after he was gone.

The next day, you were pacing around your kitchen, anxiously waiting for a message from Auston. He’d landed in Boston, played his game, and was probably having fun with the guys. You had a feeling that they were probably getting a kick out of the cookies.

Sure enough, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly.

Auston:They taste amazing, but I’m pretty sure half of them look like they belong in a modern art museum. I think Mitch is planning to hang one on the wall.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you typed back.

You’re welcome. I’m just happy they didn’t taste like a disaster. At least they won’t be getting bored with plain old chocolate chip cookies.

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Auston:You’d be amazed how many times we’ve joked about how much your cookies look like a Picasso painting. But seriously, the guys all loved them. I’ll bring some back for you. Promise.

You better, Matthews. Those cookies didn’t make themselves.

Auston:I know. I’ll never question your baking skills again.

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm inside. The night was still young, but you could already tell that it was going to be a great one—cookies, playful banter, and the thought of Auston coming home to you later made the wait feel worth it.

When Auston finally returned, a few days later, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, holding a bag of leftover cookies. He immediately dropped it on the table and came over to give you a tight hug.

“You look good, babe,” he murmured into your hair, his arms strong around you. “Missed you.”

You pulled away, grinning. “Missed you too, but I’m more excited for these cookies.”

Auston laughed, grabbing the bag from the table and handing it over. “I was almost going to eat them all on the flight home. But I’m a man of my word, so here you go.”

You eagerly opened the bag, pulling out one of the cookies that had survived the trip back. You inspected it carefully, noting that it was one of the more... experimental ones. “Hmm. This one looks like it was decorated by a toddler.”

Auston chuckled. “We can thank Mitch for that one. He said he’d hang it on the wall for me.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—these might actually be your best work.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re happy I brought them back,” Auston said, sitting down beside you. He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe because you just love me that much.”

You bumped him with your shoulder. “Maybe a little bit of both. But seriously, next time you decorate, let’s just stick to the simple designs.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said with a wink, pulling you close. “But only because it’s you.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the warmth of his arms and the sugary sweetness of the cookies making everything feel perfect.

“Good thing I’m so irresistible,” he added with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

“Lucky? I’m a hockey player. We’re basically all good-looking by default.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, let’s finish these cookies.”

Auston grinned, wrapping his arm around you, his focus on the cookies fading as he pulled you closer.

"You're all I need, cookies included."

[camellcat]

life is slightly kinder in this au and therefor having kinky vampire sex is NOT a bad thing she deserves to be crucified for!! big wins for the buffster. (#normal again is such an interesting ep because i dont hc buffy as feeling any shame about these relationships but i think the psych ward#that alternate buffy is in would pathologize and shame her SO MUCH for having poly queer vampire relationships. lmaoooooo though this has me laughing a bit. yeah omg psych!buffy would be losing her SHIT)

I like that you include xander onto that list of people buffy would be open with. surprised me a bit but honestly now that we're not dealing with a xander that had to watch angel and buffy date in high school yeah he probably wouldn't be such an ass about her vampire lovers. xander is her best friend, he would get to know. anya would know bc she's downright nosy, and, hey, a bit of gossip is always fun, even when the gossip is just you talking about yourself. anya would totally be fun to talk to, and honestly probably informative for buffy. jenny!! oh my god I've said this before that I don't think giles should've been their only trusted adult and I'm just now realizing like JENNY JENNY HELP THEM!!!!! thank god for jenny. I don't think buffy would talk with her but yeah jenny would know that makes sense to me. and love tara she would totally know the most bc for some reason buffy and tara just really seem to connect over topics that no one else would get

now willow is interesting. she SHOULD be someone buffy can turn to, because it's been willow and buffy since the beginning, but she's not. I loveeeee love love love how you described about willow's reaction to buffy finding just a bit of fucking happiness in her relationships. and jenny's reaction to willow. so good so good

#**ALSO it is real to me that xander and anya have their wedding planned out as per canon and then instead of breaking up they elope#to vegas. and then shortly after being married they separate and the plot continues much the same as canon only they are semi-divorced

OWWW you're still breaking them up? I mean I'm glad we're not having xander walk out on anya because that was ATROCIOUS behaviour from mr loyal over there and I couldn't believe my eyes watching that episode, but ouchie. but also I think this is potential for funnies. it'd still work with their dynamic now that xander didn't leave her in a god-awful way

spuffsilla dynamic oooo oo oo oo. the scene where riley finds them being even worse thanks to dru also being antagonistic is amazing. cause yeah no they should be actually fuck that guy get your kicks in you silly vampires. but also, buffy is NOT appreciating it. still unhealthy but not as bad as canon..... yeah I can take that. as long as we're not talkin buffy's fun fisticuffs and spike's misery manipulation I'm down. also duh it's rough buffy's bored without at least a little bit of a fight somewhere in there whether that's just in the sex or part of the relationship itself. I mean doesn't have to be abusive but she needs to be challenged and spike and dru will CERTAINLY give her one

GAH?! omgggg the scenes with angel are melting meeee. ofccc angel would get all I don't think I'm good for you :( good on buffy reminding him that's silly stupid. sooo cute.

and darla, ha! <3 wonderful wonderful. buffy would totally sputter and snap about it, until spike and dru get in their claims too. gotta let everyone know that girl is TAKEN! I think angel would be too embarrassed to kiss her like that in public but he makes up for it in private. beginning of the infamous vampire harem indeed

theres an au somewhere in which the romani spellcaster that curses angelus doesnt just curse angelus, but rather curses every vampire of the aurelian line in a, say, twelve mile radius to get their soul back.

it's rough, especially for the first few years. spike's the weepiest, but angel takes it the hardest, oddly enough. dru's absolutely nutty over it, but she's always nuts, and anyway, having the three of them to wrangle gives darla something to focus on other than the weight of her sins. they manage.

(one thing she does is research what, exactly, has been done to them. when she finds out about the loophole - even a moment's happiness - there is a gut-lurching second where darla thinks to herself, i can end our agony. and then she thinks of her last kill, a young couple and their toddler. the father had begged darla to spare the little child's life, to take him instead. the mother had clawed at darla, covering her child with her body, screaming as she died.

rather than find that moment's happiness, darla begins new research, looking into ways to secure an immortal soul to a vampire's body permanently. closing the loop, as it were.)

spike eventually gets it into his head that he wants to do the slayer thing - not kill them, like he'd planned, but to help the poor girls. dru gives him the idea. angel leaves them, at that point, in the dead of night, without telling them where he's going. darla lets him go.

there's a girl in peking - xin, her name is, and she's understandably skeptical, but she accepts their help. they fight with her until she dies, a few months later, at the hands of an apocalypse. it breaks spike and dru quite badly - cuts spike's face up, too. darla gets them out, gets them back to europe. leaves them in italy. looks for angel.

she finds him eating rats in new york city, of all places. she shakes some sense into him and gets him some clean clothes, some blood, a place to sleep out of the sun. he's wallowing, which is to be expected, but how does he figure he's going to atone for his sins if he's rotting in the gutter like so much trash?

she's too practical, he tells her. he's too fucking dramatic, she tells him, and makes him eat some more pig's blood, cold.

darla tells him about spike and dru, what they've been up to these past few decades. he shudders when she tells him about xin, her throat ripped out by enemy fangs. angel's intrigued by the concept of helping slayers, but he confesses quietly to darla that he's not ready for that yet.

so they part ways again, with the understanding that they'll stay in touch. darla bounces around the americas, running into spike and dru - sometimes just dru, as spike is off chasing rumors of slayers - until the late 1990s, when she gets a call from angel.

angel's found a girl, and he wants to get the gang back together.

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

"Go get it, dog!"

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

here's part 7! hope you guys enjoy! part 8 will be uploaded tomorrow!

(p.s my headcanon explainations are in the tags if you're curious)

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 8

there's a masterlist now!

*after everyone had gone inside, telemachus left to go to his room to change while penelope and odysseus headed to theirs*

*penelope had help getting changed/ready from her handmaiden, however odysseus doesn’t start changing, instead he’s just sitting on a lounge chair looking out the window at the sun setting*

penelope: *now ready for the evening*

penelope: *to her handmaiden* thank you for your help. 

penelope: *smiles as she’s walking to the bedroom door with her* 

penelope: *remembers something* oh! please let the others know to make sure you all grab yourself enough to eat after all the hard work the past couple of days! or take some of the remaining fish & meat home to your families!

penelope: *waves goodbye as her handmaiden leaves the room*

penelope: *closes the door and turns to face odysseus*

odysseus: *still staring out the window*

penelope: odysseus?

odysseus: *no response*

penelope: *understands he doesn’t mean to ignore her* 

penelope: *slowly walks towards him* my love, it's just you and i now

odysseus: *finally realises penelope was calling out to him* 

odysseus: *turns his head to her* i’m sorry penelope

odysseus: *looks her up and down, always amazed by the beauty of his wife*

penelope: *giggles as she see the lovestruck look on odysseus face*

penelope: *stops just in front of him and twirls around*

penelope: see something you like?

odysseus: *standing up and pulls her into him by her waist* 

odysseus: always *goes in for a kiss*

penelope: *accepts the kiss*

penelope: *giggles when odysseus keeps planting kisses all over her face*

penelope: my dear husband, stop distracting me! 

penelope: it’s time for you to get ready.

odysseus: *stops the kisses and looks down and sighs*

penelope: *cups his cheek with her hand and turns his face back to hers* 

penelope: you know i’m not going to force you to wear anything you don’t want to, right?

odysseus: *leans into her hand* i know, i know…

odysseus: it’s so silly of me isn’t, it’s just clothing-

penelope: *now holding his face with both her hands* nothing is silly, not if it makes you uncomfortable my love

odysseus: *smiles* i love you

penelope: *smiles back* i love you too

penelope: *lets his face go* now, what would you like to wear tonight? 

odysseus: *looking at the tyrian purple pelops she's wearing* i would like to match my beautiful wife

penelope: *knows she had a chiton made for him at the same time she had her pelops made* ok, let's get you matching then

*once odysseus is ready, him and penelope leave their room and make their way to the palace entrance ready to greet their dinner guests*

*when they arrive, they see telemachus; who is dressed in more ‘princely’ attire than his usual day-to-day clothing, talking to athena who arrived not long ago*

telemachus: oh! mother, father, you're ready!

athena: *turning to them*

athena: *smiling* good evening

penelope: *smiles back* good evening lady athena

athena: please penelope, i think we’ve known each other long enough… especially after everything in the past year

athena: just athena is fine

penelope: *smiles* sure…athena

odysseus: *looking at athena* 

odysseus: it’s still so weird not seeing you in all your armour

athena: *laughs* well i thought the occasion didn’t require it

*the four of them continue talking for a little bit*

athena: i see that my uncle hasn’t arrived yet.

telemachus: *turns to his father* you told him it was tonight right?

odysseus: *nods* i did

odysseus: *thinks for moment and sighs* 

odysseus: he’s not going to come to this entrance… but i know where he’ll be

athena: i’ll go with you to get him

telemachus: me too!

penelope: *laughs* well i guess i might as well join too

odysseus: let’s go then

*they all head in the direction of the entrance for the palace gardens*

odysseus: *stops them before they all head outside* ok maybe we don’t all need to go down to the sea

odysseus: i’ll go meet him and we’ll both join you shortly

*telemachus, penelope and athena wait by the entrance talking amongst themselves, while odysseus makes his way down to the palace cove*

*odysseus arrives at the cove when he sees poseidon making his way out of the water*

poseidon: *sees odysseus* 

poseidon: king of ithaca

odysseus: *deadpan expression* poseidon.

poseidon: *rolls his eyes at odysseus, for the clear lack of title for him*

odysseus: the others are waiting, shall we get going?

poseidon: *about to agree when he remembers about the arrow*

poseidon: wai- uh i mean, i have a question before we leave…

odysseus: *eyebrow raised* 

poseidon: you're not… i don’t know, mad or angry with me or the sea’s inhabitants by any chance?

odysseus: huh?

poseidon: *pinches the bridge of his nose* has the sea or i, done anything to offend you in the past day?

odysseus: *now confused* no?

poseidon: *drops his hand from his face and then points at odysseus* then why did you shoot me?!

odysseus: *even more confused* shoot yo- whAT?

poseidon: *reaches into his chiton and pulls out the arrow he kept there* 

poseidon: *shows the arrow to odysseus* please tell me then, what have i done that's got you shooting arrows at the sea?

odysseus: *looking at the arrow, then up to poseidon* i've not shot any arrows at the sea? 

odysseus: also, who shoots arrows into the sea?!

poseidon: *hands up in the air in agreement, the arrow being thrown behind him* 

poseidon: that's what i said! but who else would it be? it hit the waters of this cove, so unless-

odysseus: *suddenly realises where the arrow has come from*

odysseus: *starts laughing*

poseidon: *brings his hands down and narrows his eyes at odysseus* what is so funny?

odysseus: *wiping a tear away from his eye from laughing so much* my son

poseidon: *now his turn to be confused* huh?

odysseus: *having collected himself * my son, he shot the arrow during archery practice

poseidon: *eyebrow raised* and you're teaching your son to shoot the sea… because?

odysseus: *rolls his eyes* it was an accident, my wife startled him and he misfired. 

odysseus: *lets out a tiny chuckle* i can’t believe it made its way to the sea though 

poseidon: oh

odysseus: yeah ‘oh’ 

odysseus: why would you think i’d shoot the sea anyway? 

poseidon: *arms now crossed and looking away from odysseus* 

poseidon: who knows with you…

odysseus : *smirking* oh poseidon…i’d just use other ways to get your attention

poseidon: *whips his head back to odysseus* 

poseidon: *sees odysseus’ shit-eating grin*

poseidon: oh be quiet… what if i arrived early? 

poseidon: *points at himself* i could have been hit!

odysseus: *snorts* oh please… an single arrow wouldn't kill you

odysseus: besides we both know you've been impaled with worse

odysseus: *turns to head back up to the palace* anyways, let's head up to the others

poseidon: *realising what odysseus said* wait-

poseidon: odysseus of ithaca!

odysseus: *just keeps walking ignoring poseidon’s outburst*

poseidon: *grumbles under his breath but swiftly walks to catch up odysseus* 

*odysseus & poseidon make their way to the palace garden entrance where now only athena is waiting*

odysseus: *looking to athena* where-

athena: *already knows what odysseus is going to ask* they headed to the dining hall.

athena: telemachus wanted to check some final things and penelope left to accompany him.

odysseus: *nods at her explanation*

athena: *turns to look at poseidon*

athena: *nods head at poseidon* uncle

poseidon: *blank look on his face* athena.

athena: *now looking at her nails* not seen you since you were up on olympus in apollo’s infirmary…

athena: *looks back at poseidon and grins* speaking of which… how’s your chest?

poseidon: *scoffs and crosses his arms* fine.

poseidon: *suddenly smirks back* need i remind you that you were also there for a similar  reason…how’s your face?

athena: *grin has left her face and now narrows her eyes at poseidon*

odysseus: *not wanting to deal with two bickering gods* 

odysseus: *sighs*

odysseus: *claps his hands together sharply* OK! how about we don’t fight in my palace, yeah?

odysseus: besides, telemachus has been extremely excited about tonight’s dinner, so i do not want anything ruining it…

odysseus: *makes sure to look at both of them*

odysseus: *red eyes appear & disappear in the blink of an eye*

odysseus: got it?

athena: *now semi-understands why poseidon listened to odysseus ‘requests’* uh-

poseidon: *putting an arm around athena’s shoulders* yep, no arguing here!

poseidon: *turns his head towards athena* isn’t that right my dear niece?

athena: *stares at poseidon in disbelief at the words ‘dear niece’*

athena: *turns to odysseus* you can’t be seri-

odysseus: *raises his eyebrow*

athena: *sighs* sure, no fighting in the palace

odysseus: *smiles* good. now i know you know where the dining hall is located athena, but poseidon doesn’t.

odysseus: so, if you’ll both please follow me.

odysseus: *starts walking down the hall*

athena: *shrugs poseidon’s arm off in disgust and follows odysseus*

poseidon: *sighs and also follows odysseus*

[spacedlexi]

it honestly frustrates me when i see people reduce the ericsons cast down to "just some teens in the woods" acting like theyre no different than any other group of lone teenagers from other existing properties and treating them like an overused trope

it is sooo important to acknowledge the "troubled youth" aspect of the whole equation. theyre not just some random teens in the woods clem stumbles across. these kids were abandoned by their families for their various "difficulties" and fucked up by The System before the outbreak even began. and then once zombies started roaming the streets their familes never came back for them and the adults that were in charge of taking care of them just left them there to rot in that old boarding school (except for ms martin who was like their lee 🥺 the only person who ever saw them as the scared traumatized kids they were and died protecting them)

the whole aspect of them already being fucked up by the adults that controlled their lives is like.....kind of important when discussing the whole "delta is stealing kids to force them to fight in a war they have no real part in and want nothing to do with" aspect of the season. and its important when comparing them to clem and her journey of also suffering at the hands of the adults around her forcing her to become self reliant. AND its important when discussing the "just trying to build a safe home (and future) worth fighting for in this world that wants them dead" aspect of the season as well

these kids were forced to come together to survive. and a Lot of them didnt... theyre the only family they have left and you can tell that even when they argue with each other theyre still a close knit group who looks out for each other. theyre a Real family before clem even gets there (and its why what really happened with the twins and brody and marlon hits them all so especially hard)

all of this is what REALLY makes ericsons such a perfect home for clem. its a Real community of her True peers. theyre not Just teens. they mightve had a layer of safety clem never had by at least having walls to keep them safe. and having the benefit of the school being hard to find. its the only reason theyre still alive when clem shows up. but theyre also some of the only people who can Truly understand where clem and aj are coming from. and its why it hurts so much when they vote to kick them out. but its also partially why she merges back into the fold so easily when she returns. plus the fact that shes Really the only one who has any idea what shes doing. shes their rock and she makes them feel safe because underneath it all theyre still just those scared traumatized kids ("EVERYONE is scared, clem..." vi was Definitely including herself in that 'everyone'), and on some level, so is clem

they saved clementines life. and she saved theirs. "the school was supposed to help them with their trauma, now they help each other" its about the LOVE the COMMUNITY the SUPPORT!!!! and thats the shit that makes good zombie media honestly 👌

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[mer-se]

Aurora the precious 🧚🏻‍♀️ you are.

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.