#i will not bring up my crossover idea. i will not bring up my crossover idea. i will not— | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liviawildrose · 6 months ago

Text

𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

read this to transform your life

hey guys! today, we’re diving into something that can literally transform the next 20 years of your life. why? because pluto has officially entered aquarius, and let me tell you, this is huge. if you’ve got aquarius anywhere in your birth chart like i do, you’re probably already feeling that intense energy—the urge to level up, get things done, and completely reinvent yourself. i mean, look at me: this is my second vlog today and i’ve been non-stop posting since yesterday. it’s like this cosmic shift has supercharged me, and i know it can do the same for you.

but don’t worry, even if you’re not an aquarius, this energy is hitting everyone in some way. so whether you’re ready for it or not, pluto in aquarius is here, and it’s bringing transformation on a massive scale. now, this blog is part of my series called the “game of life”, but since this pluto shift is so major, i’ve decided to make this a crossover between the two themes. we’re going to talk about how to actually use this energy to change your life, level up, and play the long game to completely transform the next 20 years and beyond. so, if you’re ready to tap into this cosmic power and take control of your future, follow along because this blog might just change your life.

just before we dive in, i want you guys to check out a blog i posted a couple of weeks ago—it’s all about the first steps to getting your shit together. it’s a great starting point for understanding how to lay the groundwork for your transformation journey. if you haven’t seen it yet, head over to blog “first steps” and give it a read. trust me, it’ll help you get a solid foundation before you dive into the next level of this process.

avatar

okay, now that you’ve got your basics down from the previous blog, let me introduce you to the game of life. this is where things get fun. first, we’re going to focus on creating your avatar. now, if you’ve read that earlier blog, you’ll remember i talked about building an alter ego. for example, mine is called livia wildrose. she’s my vision of absolute perfection the version of me i aspire to be. this is your chance to go wild. grab a journal and start designing your alter ego and how her life is. i don’t care how crazy, bold, or unrealistic it might seem this is your imagery of perfection. who is she? how does she look? how does she act? what does her life look like? write it all down. get creative draw her, make a mood board, whatever feels right. this is your blueprint. now, here’s the twist: in the game of life, you are the avatar. your current self, with all your flaws and strengths, is the player in this game. your mission? to become your alter ego. think of it like this: your avatar (you) might not have everything your alter ego has right now. maybe she’s more confident, more successful, smarter, richer, or better-looking. but that’s okay because she represents your end goal. every step you take toward embodying her, every choice that aligns you closer to her energy, earns you points in the game of life. the idea is to bridge the gap between who you are now (your avatar) and who you want to be (your alter ego). every time you make progress whether it’s a mindset shift, a small win, or a big milestone you’re leveling up. this is how you win the game.

for example, let’s say your alter ego is this ultra-rich, world-famous singer, idol, and total icon. she’s confident, magnetic, and lives her dream life effortlessly. that’s your end goal that’s your alter ego. now, your job is to build her. create her personality, her habits, her lifestyle, her goals, and most importantly, her mindset. think about it what kind of mindset does she have? does she radiate confidence? does she have unshakable discipline? does she take no for an answer, or does she turn every rejection into motivation? for me, my alter ego, livia wildrose, has a queen-like, goddess-like mindset. that means every single brick life throws at me, i’m gonna build a castle out of it. scratch that i’m gonna build a shrine. nothing breaks me; i only get stronger, wiser, and better. that’s how livia wildrose operates, and that’s what drives me every single day.

imagine you’re playing a game where you have to build a village from scratch. when you start, you don’t just dive in blindly—you go around and observe how other players have built their villages. you notice their strengths, but also their flaws. maybe someone’s village is too cluttered, or their defenses are weak, or their farms are in the wrong spots. you take mental notes: ‘okay, that’s not my vibe. i’m not gonna do that.’ this also brings me to the point that learn from other peoples mistake too. my friend right now is going through a very tough break up. and the guy is being a total asshole. and the more she talk about the relationship to me how it was, and we try to get the cues like “oh we could’ve realised back then when he said this particular thing” that he is not the one. (the fact he was a total sexist asshole) i realised that when i get into a relationship, and if i see my future boyfriend having these traits, i will leave. why? because I learnt from her mistakes of letting things slide, and not noticing the minor red flags that later became worse.

(back to the topic) then, you create an image of your ideal village in your head. you don’t copy anyone, but you take inspiration. you think, ‘this is my aesthetic, this is how i want my village to function.’ you make a mental note of all the details where the farms will go, where the population will live, how everything will flow. and then you start building, step by step, upgrading, improving, and making decisions based on the vision you created. now apply that same concept to your life. create an ideal version of yourself (alter ego) in your head. imagine your ideal life, your ideal personality, your dream self. think about who she is, how she thinks, how she acts, what her daily habits are. don’t just copy someone else’s life take inspiration. maybe you admire someone’s confidence but not their style, or their work ethic but not their priorities. fine. make mental notes and adjust it to fit your vibe. every time you make a decision or work to improve yourself (your current avatar), use that ideal version of yourself as a guide. ask yourself, ‘what would she do? how would she handle this? what choice aligns me closer to her?’ take inspiration from her and let her energy fuel every upgrade you make. step by step, you’ll start building a life that’s completely aligned with the vision you’ve dreamed of. for example in pubg. the end goal is to become a conqueror so what you do every single time when you play that game is make sure that you’re good with your teammates, you get the most kills, you win every single match, because that is what will bring you to your end goal.

the bars of life

1. health bar

health is the foundation, the core, the absolute main bar. without health, nothing else matters. it’s like playing a survival game if your health is low, you’re dead in the water, right? you can’t progress, you can’t fight, you can’t level up. every single step in your journey starts with taking care of your body and mind. health is everything. make sure you’re eating right, sleeping enough, working out, and keeping your mind in a positive, stable place. the healthier you are, the more you’ll be able to conquer in all aspects of life. keep this bar maxed out, or you won’t even have the energy to fight for your dreams.

2. physical bar

now, let’s talk about the physical bar. this is all about how your body looks and feels. how’s your physique? toned? fit? are you putting in the work to make sure your body is in shape, or are you letting it slide? it’s not just about the gym though—it’s about how you present yourself. do your clothes flatter your body type? are you dressing in a way that highlights your best features? are your nails done, your hair styled, your makeup light but on point? when you walk into a room, does your physical presence demand attention and admiration? this is about taking pride in your appearance and making sure your physicality aligns with the highest version of yourself. everything from your posture to the way you dress, this is how people will notice you. own it.

3. mental bar

the mental bar is all about your mindset, emotional health, and mental well-being. how do you show up in the world every day? what is your internal dialogue like? are you a powerhouse of positivity and productivity, or are you letting negative thoughts control you? this bar is about building a mindset that propels you forward, no matter what life throws at you. like i always say, every single brick life throws at me, i will build a castle out of it—or a shrine. i don’t care what happens, it’s all fuel for my fire. this is the mental toughness you need to develop to grow.

if you’re facing challenges—whether it’s dealing with stress, anxiety, or depression—take care of your mental health. if you need a therapist, get one. if journaling helps you unpack emotions and thoughts, make it a habit. every step you take to improve your mental health is a step toward leveling up your life. every time you choose a positive, productive mindset, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving. strengthen this bar, and everything else in life becomes more manageable.

your mental bar is not just about surviving the chaos—it’s about learning to navigate it with grace, strength, and an unbreakable belief in your ability to create your dream life.

4. spiritual bar

the spiritual bar is your path to alignment with yourself and the universe. this is where you connect with your higher self, your energy, and your beliefs. spirituality isn’t just about religion—though it can be if that’s part of your journey. it’s about meditating, doing yoga (especially Kundalini, like i mentioned), and tuning into the deepest parts of yourself. when you start aligning your chakras and balancing your energies, you’re strengthening this bar. it’s about connecting to something greater than yourself—whether that’s through rituals, prayer, or mindfulness practices. this is the bar that ensures your spirit is nurtured, your energy is clean, and your soul is grounded. if you’re in tune with yourself and aligned with your truth, you can face anything the world throws at you.

5. financial bar

now, let’s talk about the financial bar. this is where you track your wealth, your earning capacity, and how financially empowered you are. how’s your financial situation? are you getting paid what you’re worth? are you bringing in new streams of income? every single time you land a promotion, secure a new deal, or create another source of income, this bar rises. even small wins matter—getting that side hustle going, saving a little extra this month, investing in yourself. all these things count. this bar is about actively working toward your financial freedom and success. if you’re serious about leveling up in life, this bar has to be taken seriously. wealth isn’t just about money—it’s about abundance in every area of your life. when you strengthen this bar, you give yourself the power to live the life you want

6. career bar

the career bar is all about progression, ambition, and success in your professional life. every time you take a step forward—whether it’s landing a promotion, launching a side hustle, or expanding your business—it’s a win for your career bar. it’s not just about the outcome, but about the process too. when you learn a new skill to level up in your field, or when you push yourself to take on more responsibility, this bar grows. every single action you take to further your career—no matter how small—contributes to building the empire you want. it’s about building something that lasts and ensuring that your career serves as the foundation for the life you envision.

7. social bar

the social bar is about how you connect and interact with others. it includes your relationships with family, friends, lovers, and colleagues, as well as your social media presence. every time you make a meaningful connection, whether it’s through a new friendship or strengthening bonds with existing relationships, your social bar grows. it also covers your social media footprint—every time you post something, earn followers, or engage with your audience, you’re building your social presence. the way you show up in the world, the vibe you put out, and how others perceive you are all part of this bar. what’s important is that you’re intentional about your social connections. it’s not just about quantity, but quality. how do you carry yourself? how do people feel around you? remember, you can always adjust the way you’re perceived by adjusting how you act. we’ll dive deeper into how you can shift your social presence to your advantage later on.

8. legacy bar

the legacy bar is about the impact you leave behind and how you’re remembered. while you might not need to focus on this too much at 17 (like me too), it’s still something that will guide your actions as you grow older. your legacy is like the final level of your life game—it’s the impression you leave on others, the tangible and intangible things you pass on to the next generation. think about it like this: your legacy could be how generous you were. maybe you donate to charities, help the less fortunate, or fund scholarships. maybe you leave behind a family with strong values, or set up a business that supports others and creates opportunities. or even, it’s the homes you buy and the wealth you build that your kids will inherit. that’s a form of legacy too—creating something that endures, that your children or loved ones can benefit from long after you’re gone.

you want to make sure you’re giving back—whether it’s in terms of charity, helping your community, or creating something that continues to benefit people beyond your time here. it’s about living with intention, creating something greater than yourself, and making sure that when people look back, they say, “wow, she did something good.” when I think of my legacy, I want to be known for making an impact on my country, helping its economy grow, and providing jobs. so, always think about the ripple effect your actions will have not just on yourself but on the world around you, long after you’re gone.

9. environmental bar

okay, so let’s talk about your environmental bar. this is pretty much everything around you: where you live, who you hang out with, and what you’re consuming—whether it’s people, media, or food. your environment shapes you more than you think. if you live in clutter, your brain gets cluttered. if you’re surrounded by negative energy or toxic people, guess what? that negativity starts rubbing off on you. toxicity? it’s contagious. trust me. this is why i always say: your environment is EVERYTHING. let’s say you’re stuck in a place where people are draining your energy, or your room looks like a hurricane hit it—what’s happening? your life starts feeling chaotic. but if you clean up your space, set boundaries with toxic people, and start surrounding yourself with supportive, positive vibes, you’ll see that your life follows suit. if you’re surrounded by success-driven people, guess what happens? you start moving differently too.

for example, i know my current living situation is toxic. but, once i move out, that’s going to be my environmental grace. i’ll finally have the space to thrive, away from negative energy. maybe for you, it’s as simple as clearing your workspace or unfollowing people on social media who bring you down. the key is that you’re actively creating a good environment for your growth. declutter, move people who don’t vibe with you, and make sure everything you interact with is aligned with your goals.

10. fun and recreation bar

listen, life isn’t just about hustling and grinding, okay? it’s also about having fun. and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. people always forget that joy and peace are important parts of growth. hobbies, fun experiences, and doing things that bring you relaxation and joy are just as vital as your career or health bar. sure, you might not make money from every hobby, but if it brings you peace or helps you unwind, then it’s worth it.

like me, i might not be making millions off of drawing, but damn, it’s relaxing. it’s something that i look back on and feel proud of. the point is, don’t skip out on fun. go out with friends, explore new things, travel, dance, create. don’t just work to live—live to enjoy it. make time for meaningful parties, exploring new places, or just learning something new for fun. trust me, it will make you feel whole. it’s the only life we’ve got, so might as well enjoy it. while also being productive (im sorry had to add this 😭)

11. intelligence bar

okay, this one should be obvious, but let me make it clear: your intelligence bar should always be leveling up. this is the bar for everything you do to expand your mind, whether it’s learning a new skill, reading a book, acing a test, or just getting smarter from life lessons. it’s not just about school or formal education; it’s about constantly seeking knowledge. every time you learn something new—whether it’s about physics, psychology, or how to make the best goddamn smoothie—your intelligence bar grows.

never stop learning. school isn’t the only place for growth. you’re an adult now—take control of your learning. buy books, watch educational videos, take courses that interest you, and dive into everything that can help you grow intellectually. intelligence doesn’t stop when you leave school, it grows with you, forever. always be leveling up your mind.

watch her video to get more info on this topic (she is MOTHER) literally.

youtube

cheat codes in the game of life

read this blog by me first

life is full of cheat codes if you know where to look. one of the easiest ways to hack your life and manifest your desires is by using subliminals, grabovoi codes, eft tapping and even customizing your ChatGPT. these tools are like magic spells, designed to align your subconscious mind with your goals. for example, grabovoi codes are just numbers, but when you write and repeat them, they can bring about extraordinary shifts in your life. subliminals work and eft tapping the same way reprogramming your mind while you go about your day. and with ChatGPT, you have a personal assistant that can help you navigate any life situation, offering advice and insight whenever you need it. these are your personal life hacks use them to transform your reality with ease.

okay, let’s dive even deeper into these cheat codes, because once you start using them, you’ll realize how easy it is to shape the world around you. let’s talk about altering your social image—this is like an advanced life hack that many people, especially celebrities, are already using, but they’re not telling you how. you know how celebrities act on social media, right? that perfectly curated, almost “too good to be true” persona? the thing is, that’s not really them. most of them aren’t as perfect as they look in front of the camera, and they sure as hell don’t act the same behind the scenes. think about the people who might’ve bullied you in the past. they might have treated you like crap, but when they’re in front of others? angels. they put on this sweet, charming persona to get what they want. it’s all about duality—using different faces to your advantage. so why not do the same?

you can reinvent the way people see you. perception is everything. for example, let’s say you want to be perceived like a star, like an icon. one of the biggest secrets to this is creating a unique persona—something that screams you, but is captivating enough to make others want to be around you. think about how a lot of idols have such a distinctive style or energy. that is the cheat code. they don’t just wear the coolest clothes, they embody a vibe, an energy that makes them stand out in a crowd. so, how do you do it? first, know what you want. if you want to be that calm, collected, alluring figure who commands attention without even trying, start by adopting a few things that you know fit that style. if you want that dark, sultry energy, you need to own it—the way you talk, walk, dress, and even the way you hold yourself should exude confidence.

take someone like Dakota Johnson she has this quiet-chaotic energy about her, right? she speaks slowly, her words dripping with this almost sultry vibe. she doesn’t try too hard. it’s not about being overly energetic or trying to impress; it’s about confidence, calmness, and an air of mystery. she can make something as simple as a joke feel funny and seductive because of the way she says it. that’s the magic. it’s not about being loud or brash to get attention, it’s about learning how to carry yourself in a way that leaves people wanting more.

here’s the trick you don’t need to be a different person; you just need to refine your vibe. create a version of yourself that’s like an upgraded avatar. and then, simply start to live like them. how would your alter ego talk? would they speak with more authority? would they be more laid back, or would they be mysterious? do they have a sultry, slow tone when they speak? model yourself after that, and it’ll become second nature. this is where the pluto in aquarius energy comes in if you’re an aquarius (or have aquarius placements), this is your moment. you have the power to reinvent yourself in ways that you never thought possible. take this time to shift your self-perception and how the world perceives you. you can break out of old habits, behaviors, and expectations that others might have of you. this is your chance to become the best version of you, the version that’s unstoppable.

how do you get started?

1. talk like her: figure out how your alter ego would speak. take note of the cadence, the tone, and the vibe they exude. do they talk slower? more deliberately? maybe they joke with a certain confidence that makes everyone laugh, but also feel intrigued. learn to replicate that tone.

2. dress the part: style matters. you can’t be a fashion icon if you’re always dressing like a potato sack. find a style that feels unique to you, but also gives off that vibe you want—whether it’s sleek, bold, or soft. make sure your clothing complements the persona you want to show the world.

3. be unpredictable: people love mystery. don’t always let them in on everything. make them wonder about you. embrace the chaotic quietness—be the person who seems calm, but you always have something up your sleeve. keep them intrigued.

4. embrace the duality: you can be whoever you want to be. show one side to certain people, and another side to others. be strategic about how you present yourself in different scenarios. this is how you gain control of your social image.

5. confidence is key: once you start showing up as this new version of yourself, your confidence will shoot through the roof. people pick up on energy. if you believe in the persona you’re creating, others will too. and that’s how you start changing how people perceive you.

the beauty of this is, you’re not just faking it. you’re becoming it. you’re tapping into a version of yourself that’s always been there, just waiting for the right moment to step into the spotlight. the more you practice this, the more natural it becomes. “fake it till you make”

so, here’s the game plan: figure out your alter ego, start speaking like them, acting like them, dressing like them, and above all, own it. no one can compete with a version of you who’s fully aligned with your highest self. this is the cheat code to creating your dream life and stepping into the role you were always meant to play. use mindmovie, vision board, manifestation books to keep yourself aligned with your desires and goals

yeah, seriously, take this game of life really seriously. it’s not just about coasting through, it’s about making moves that align with your goals and dreams. your environment plays a huge part in that—where you live, who you’re around, and what opportunities are available. if you’re in a place that doesn’t nurture your dreams or support your growth, it might be time to think about moving. i’m in the same boat—i know the dreams i have won’t be fully supported where i’m at, so i’m already planning my next moves. but remember, everything is strategic. you have to play to win, baby girl. don’t settle for anything less than the life you deserve. make the changes, take the risks, and keep leveling up.

life’s like a game, and there are plenty of players trying to win, but how do you outsmart the competition? it’s not just about luck—yeah, that plays a part, but it’s also about skill, strategy, and having the right people around you. you can’t level up on your own, and just like in any game, teamwork makes all the difference. think of it this way: the kings and rulers in history didn’t get where they were alone; they knew how important it was to have the right team by their side. whether it’s friends, mentors, or business partners, you need good people who can support, challenge, and push you forward. surround yourself with those who elevate you, not drain you. build a strong, skilled, and loyal team because with the right crew, you’ll always be ahead of the game. just like the environment you choose—quality food, media, and surroundings—your team matters too.

notations

life is like a mix of different games, okay? think of it like the Sims where you have the ultimate free will. you can literally do whatever you want, and it’s up to you how far you take it. want to be a singer? start posting your singing videos everywhere—Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and even Twitter. manifest it, use subliminals, grabovoi codes, EFT tapping, and let ChatGPT help you figure out the algorithm and best ways to grow. life gives you all the tools, so use them to build your dream life.

but life isn’t just the Sims, it’s also like Chess. you have to be strategic about when and how you move. be nice but not naive, be a bitch sometimes too period. don’t throw out your best pieces too soon keep things lowkey and make others underestimate you. right now, I’m not the top student in my class, but I’m playing the long game. I’ll show people my pawns first—small, safe moves. later, when it’s the right time, I’ll pull out the knight or queen to checkmate the competition. keep people guessing. be mysterious. don’t tell anyone what you’re planning until it’s already in motion. keep your moves quiet, let them think you’re just playing small, and when the time comes—boom, you’ll show them exactly what you’re capable of.

this is where your team really comes into play. think of it like playing PUBG—if your team sucks, you suck. you can’t lead a squad full of lazy players and expect to win. it’s like trying to win a game while everyone else is just chilling. that’s why you have to be super selective with who you let into your inner circle. the people you’re building your success with need to be on the same level as you, otherwise, you’ll just drag each other down.

i’ve mentioned this before i literally asked a tarot reader to read the people around me, and she pointed out which friends weren’t good for me. guess what? those people turned out to be exactly as she said. so, don’t ignore your gut feelings. these are the people who will be there when you make it big, so make sure they’re the right ones. remember, in life, you don’t often get to choose your teammates, so be super careful who you let in. if you’re young, like 17 or 18, this is the time to build those lifelong friendships. trust me, pick wisely, because they’ll either help you level up or hold you back.

if i were to start a new life from today, this would have been the blog post that would have helped me reach that level. so, thank you so much for reading it through and through, and i hope you like it. also, i’m gonna pin this blog, and from now onwards, every single blog that you’ll see on my channel, on my account, will be somewhat similar to this. i’ll be using this blog as a centerpiece in future posts, building on it and referencing it. so stay tuned, because there’s a lot more to come, and this is just the beginning of the journey. and i’m gonna be doing all these again with you guys too. :)

also, happy 20 years of success as pluto returns to aquarius. love you guys.

451 notes · View notes

dontbesoweirdkira · 7 months ago

Note

I propose an idea! Romantic Yandere Mark Grayson with batsib mc….oh I can feel the chaos that these two worlds would bring😂

A/N: "BIYVjhKDjshuguj" was my inital reaction to this requests because this is tew good. If you've seen my Mark Grayson post then you know exactly how insane this mf is.

Warnings: Pure crack to be honest? Like this is not even a serious post. I was laughing the entire time. Don’t even know where I was going with this but…I had fun

Requests? always open!

Masterlist

Two black haired, attention whore yanderes with the same last name, walk into a room with their darling in it...who's winning?

I mean technically their meeting is not too far fetched. Mortal Kombat and DC had a crossover..and Invincible is also apart of Mortal Kombat which means- nvm, you didn't ask for that.

Here's the thing, everyone in the family dislikes Mark but yan! Mark and Dick HATE each other the most but because they are low key so similar. Mark is obviously way more extreme but i digress. He brings out the absolutely worse out of Dick.

Like Dick has picked up a Knife and contemplated murder.

Mark and Dick's interactions are hilarious though?? Like they both have the exact same fake smile and passive (heavy on the aggressive) behaviors.

"Ahhh, Mark, we're always pleased to host you since y'know your parents obviously need some sort of break from an irritant, such as yourself."

"Thanks, Dick! But regardless of how much of an irritant i am to them, least i still have two biological parents to care for me. Maybe it's because they're not patrons of the circus....?"

*backhands him*

Jason isn't subtle and has whipped out his guns, ready to blast that mf. He's been the closet to causing Mark to blow up the mansion. It was a whole thing and you dumped Mark over it but of course he gaslighted you.

I think the family doesn't like the fact you're dating someone who can easily take advantage of you. (ironic) Mark is clearly dangerous, he's half viltrumite and they may not know everything his people are capable of but they know he can cause a lot of havoc. Mark is not only a threat to you but to them as well. He puts them in a state of constant high alert. They're always staring him down, searching for any signs of danger. I'm sure Batman has a fail safe plan all ready to go. They are eager for the moment they can take this mf down. Do you think they have the supers on speed dial just in case? Ugh even uncle Clark is disapproving of this too.

Your sisters try endlessly to have heart to hearts with you because WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING????? MARK?! They'd rather you date poke-a-dot man or something because why????

Mark isn't a dumbass, he knows they hate him. He also knows just how scared they are of him and it gives him some sort of sick pleasure knowing he could truly have you all to himself if he really wanted to. But there's really no point in that yet, you're wrapped around his fingers. He totally has thought about going back to his planet with you and keeping your pretty self locked up where your family won't ever find you. That'd really stick it to em'

The cocky, manipulation is just oozing off him every time he's around. The way he shoots threatening looks towards your siblings when they try to get your attention or "playfully" insulting them. There's never a moment where his head isn't held high, looking down at your siblings as if they were beneath him...He runs this place when he's over. Which is all the time because Bruce is like okay, if you won't leave him, you have to be supervised.

Can you imagine combined family dinners with Mark's family and yours??? First, there is definitely a fight of who is sitting next to who. I'll say your brothers win this and are sitting on either side while Mark is fuming as he's across from you. The tension is so freaking high. It's rather silent around the table but everyone is looking at each other either like "I'm ready to kill him when you are" or "i'm going to kill you, mark...". I headcanon that even Bruce has beef with Nolan. They clash rather constantly on their differences of how to handle villains. Nolan is a stone cold killer to Bruce, who is rather set in his ways. It's no wonder Mark is his son. You aren't going to be with this kid for long. "So, Bruce? How's things on your side of town? Still letting your boyfriend out of jail so you can keep playing tag?" "The Joker isn't my boyfriend, i'm just not into murder, unlike some "heros" are. I like to set an example for my kids." "Ah, is that why Jason threatened to kill my son at gun point last month?"

You and Debbie are the only ones who like are trying to be civil and are sort of ignorant to everything going on.

"Um, so i made brownies with Mark's mother for everyone! Anyone want a piece?"

"Of course, love. You know your brownies are my favorite, i've been waiting all day."

Your siblings act like savages and eat the entire pan, stuffing it in their mouths so Mark cannot get any. Bruce doesn't do anything to correct his children out of spite.

Bruce is also debating on just handling them right here. He could have Kal-el over in matters of minutes and this could all be over with.

(Okay but Mark and Damien beating each other’s asses???? Damien cannot bite his tongue and Mark is trying to be nice because he’s a kid but he then Damien call him a "little bitch boy" and it pushes him over the edge. Mark just jumps over the table lollllll???? Sad thing is, Damien gets in tons of cuts with the butterknife he was just using for his sweetroll heheh))) "I though you were invincible...guess i was right in calling you a little bi-" "OH YOU'RE DYING TONIGHT"

1K notes · View notes

suugarbabe · 5 months ago

Note

SAB the absolute fucking light of my life............ I have a question for you!

the year is coming to a close and it has brought us many great things (like your gorgeous gorgeous brain babies) and I'm simply dying to know.... if you were to do a 12 fics for 12 months sort of wrap up of your own blog, what would be your 12 most memorable fics of the year? which of your pieces really stood out to you? I'm eager to hear what my friends' proudest works are!

my lovely, lovely baby elle, me dear, my angel girl i love this ask but also it's sooooo so difficult. hmm...

you reconnect with remus after school has ended ; personally i don't think this fic got the love it deserved, though it was a few years ago. i just think it's so playful and cute.

wolfstar!daughter brings a boy home for the first time ; this was one of my earlier dabbles in marauders era things but i think this is a cute crossover between the slytherin boys and our marauders loves

james love bombs you at a festival ; this is my only james fic but i feel like it showcases his slight golden retriever energy

rockstar sirius is a childhood friend ; i may or may not have taken a few personal experiences for this fic but i do love it so

enzo beating someone up for you ; because who doesn't want that?

enzo has a crush on you and the boys tease him; one of the beginnings of mine and @musingsofahufflepuff's yap sessions that lead to brilliant ideas <3

theo's eyes are your favorite color ; you loose the ability to see most colors in a potions accident when you're younger and theo happens to benefit from this

your soul is tied to theos ; you feel what he feels and vise versa (there's a part 2 if you like it)

mattheo has never hugged anyone before ; we love a sad boy with yearnings for touch

brothers best friend with matty boy ; i just like this one and it's one of my fav tropes

matty watching out for you at a party; we love an enemies but one is kind of actually a softie (it's matty, he's the softie)

origin story series ; of couuuurse my beloved beloved current works (again my hubby my dear my love my micah boy @/musingsofahufflepuff who collabs with me on this)

#wooooof this was so hard to do actually?#but thank you my sweet darling lovie girl for challenging me!#12 months 12 fics #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #wolfstar x reader

365 notes · View notes

the-amazing-animated-circus · 8 months ago

Text

It's them!!! the men (and women)!!! the myths!!! the legends!!!

I honestly can not thank these guys enough for taking time out of their day to bring these characters to life.

This is about all you'll be seeing of the main series until episode one is finished, but don't fret! I have plenty of ideas for side stories and silly crossovers to post!

If you would like to be kept up to date on the series' progress, you could totally, like, give me money.

All that aside, I'll see you all again once I've finished my next post!

You'll find the series on my YouTube channel once it's ready

#toon talk #the amazing digital circus #toon au #toon pomni #tadc au #pomni #gangle #tangle #kinger #jax #ragatha #caine #zooble #madeliene wade #seymour patrick morgan #randall sullivan #michael newman

673 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 7 months ago

Text

MMMM twins au with danny and dan except its og TUE timeline danny and dan

ok okay i neeeeed o write this down and share it before i explode buT. as the title says. twins danny and dan (who im going to be calling James/Jamie bc i cannot express how much i despise the name dan) where, instead of disappearing into the ghost zone after he's separated from danny's body, Dan rips out Vlad's ghost half, tears THAT in half, and fuses one half with himself and the other with Danny.

Shit happens, and BOOM. Two morally ambiguous and perhaps slightly murderous demonic twins from hell. Daniel James Fenton and his Twin WHose Always Been Here What Are You Talking About :) James Daniel Fenton. They are both depressed, lonely, and one bad day from becoming a mass extinction event :)

this is because i got grabbed by the hair today and dragged into the SVSS fandom screaming and the fanart of Shen Jiu/Shen Yuan/Shen Quingqiu (????) with his fan entranced me. Ice Prince Core is my favorite thing so naturally i have to implant that onto my favorite blorbos ever :)

After the Incident, both their appearances changed and they're practically identical to each other. Sorta. They both have heterochromia and salt-and-pepper hair. But Danny has one green eye and one blue eye and white hair with black streaks, while Jamie has one blue eye and one green eye and black hair with white streaks. I'm iving them both long hair, for funsies <3

nobody can tell them apart, they keep getting confused on whose who and frankly the mix-match hair and eyes make it worse not better asjd. they're horrifically codependent. please do not separate :)

and because i must. im pulling a blood blossom/tales of the passerine and giving them to pre-robin batman. batman and his terrifying demon(??) twins. nobody is quite sure if they're human or not, and the scourge of gotham are a little too terrified to ask.

(they dont HAVE to go to batman while he's pre-robin. however. i think its much funnier that way bc gotham isn't use to A) Batman having kids, and B) Batman having TERRIFYING kids yet. think of all the new fun rumors)

they both use war fans while they're out, and neither of them use their ghost forms because they at least have the remaining empathy to know that they're more likely to murder someone accidentally as a ghost :). Ghost form is for fellow mythicals and Functionally Immortals Only! Not for Squishy Humans.

Jamie: murder. bloodshed. revengggee Bruce: no. no. Justice. peace!! hope! Danny: bittinngggg. blooood. ^-^

They're honestly not bad kids they're just horrifically traumatized two halves of a whole that can never be reunited ever again :).

idk what their vigilante names are but i do know that the underground refer to them in horrified whispers as 'the twins'. this all stemmed from the desperate and sudden urge to see Danny and Jamie, as their vigilante selves, hiding the lower half of their faces with fans and looking terrifyingly judgmental while they do it <333

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc au #danny phantom #dan phantom #dp x dc au #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #the twins au #look look it doesnt NEED to be DPxDC specifically i just WANT it to be. give bruce two twins who arent technically twins at all but the #shattered remains of a boy's soul who will never be whole again :). i need them to be like. 13 when bruce gets them but also when they're #older they're the picture of refined and lethal elegance. bc brrrrrrr. they have scarves bc scarves brrrr. they're like capes lite.#despite Jamie's demeanor comma it IS danny you need to watch out for dont be fooled Danny is not harmless nor declawed he's simply quiet :)#just do you- do you-- dont run away --dO YOU SEE THE VISION. I AM ON TH FLOOR FROTHING. DO YOU SEE THE VISION #they both have hollow looks in their eyes and that never really goes away even after they get older. but it does get better. bruce does hel #bring back some of that spark bc i refuse to slander that man in my house. im going to let my babygirl be a father like god intended #its par for course that of course bruce wayne's new kids look like supervillains in the making. just look at what happened to harvey dent #the gotham public is so certain that beloved bruce wayne has adopted demons. but nobody can prove anything other than the eery reflection #in the twins' eyes and their too sharp teeth. their pointed ears and soft voices that take up the room. antichrists the both of them #bruce wont take this slander and the twins?? honestly?? dont appreciate slander against bruce either. thats their New Dad actually #anywhoosies just a new fun au idea that includes og timeline danny :)) i dont think he'd be anything like his counterpart bc of the trauma #he and jamie get along surprisingly well (according to other danny's standards at least.)

316 notes · View notes

f1-mcmuffin · 1 month ago

Note

GIRLL I LOVEE THE 5th MEMBER AU I HOPE U WILL MAKE IT INTO A SERIESS😆😆

I HAVE A IDEA MAYBE WHERE SHE WAS WITH LISA IN THE MIAMI GP

AND MAYBE WHERE LANDO AND THE OTHER DRIVERS AND WAGS WERE ATCHING THEIR CONCERT

I haven’t proofread this, so bear with me. Also I’ve never been to a BLACKPINK concert but I have been to an Ateez concert so I used my knowledge from that.

Sorry, it took me so long to come up with this. I'm trying to work on my other Lando story and keep up with some requests I’ve been receiving

an - updated, i'm trying to wither out the use of (y/n)

Spotlight & Slipstream pt. 2

(Requested) Lando Norris x 5th Member of BLACKPINK Reader

Summary: Lando, the drivers, and the wags go to a BLACKPINK concert

Later in the Day (Barcelona) — Late Afternoon

The golden-hour sun spilled like honey over the cobbled streets of El Born, casting long, lazy shadows over the terrace café. The scent of grilled prawns, espresso, and sunscreen drifted through the air, mingling with the slow rhythm of Catalan conversations and the clink of cutlery. Under a striped umbrella, Lando sat with his chair tipped back, sipping lemonade through a straw as the condensation dripped down the glass.

Across from him, she looked sun-kissed and effortlessly cool — oversized vintage tee knotted at the waist, ripped baggy jeans, Landos’ gold chain glinting against her collarbone. Her sunglasses were pushed into her hair, and she was focused on the last few fries on his plate, stealing them one by one with lazy precision.

“I swear,” she mumbled with a dramatic sigh, “if I eat one more backstage cheese platter, I might lose my mind. Like — why is it always brie? What did cheddar ever do to deserve this slander?”

Lando chuckled around a mouthful of his sandwich. “Guess that’s the glamorous popstar life.”

she leaned forward, her elbows on the table, scrolling through texts from the girls. Her screen lit up with messages from her members.

She looked up suddenly. “Hey,” she said casually, as if it had just occurred to her, “you’ve never actually seen me perform, have you?”

He blinked, wiping chip crumbs off his lip. “What?”

“You’ve never been to a BLACKPINK show,” she repeated, leveling him with a look. “Not even one.”

Lando shrugged defensively. “I’ve seen videos.”

“Not the same.” She made a face. “That’s like me saying I’ve experienced F1 because I played Mario Kart once. Doesn’t count.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay, first of all, Mario Kart is elite—”

She cut him off with a smirk. “Second of all, we’ve got a show in Paris next weekend. It’s sold out. Obviously.” She popped a fry in her mouth and spoke around it. “And I already checked the race calendar. You’re free.”

He tilted his head, skeptical. “You checked my calendar?”

“I checked your calendar,” she repeated. “And I saved space backstage for you, the drivers, the WAGs.”

He raised a brow. “You’re inviting the entire grid to a BLACKPINK concert?”

She shrugged, lips curling at the corner. “They owe me. I sat through seventy-eight laps of engine noise and everyone smelling like brake dust. Time to return the favor.”

Lando leaned forward on his elbows, taking her hand and brushing his thumb over her knuckles before bringing it to his lips. “You sure the world’s ready for that crossover?”

she grinned, eyes sparkling. “Ready or not, they’re getting it.”

Twitter/X;

Yourusername tweeted “Guess who’s coming to next week's concert?🙈”

@speedgirlie

if lando shows up at a blackpink concert in a pink hoodie i’m gonna pass out

@blackpinksbrainrot

SHE INVITED THE F1 GRID TO PARIS 😭 She is INSANE for this. iconic. queen behavior.

@itsjustjord

imagine carmen, kika, and lily in the BLACKPINK VIP section losing their minds to ‘Shut Down’ and then pierre filming it 😭

@grandprixtea

you just know carlos and charles are gonna try to look cool until ‘Kill This Love’ hits and it’s over

@notyourengineer

the crossover we didn’t know we needed — BLACKPINK IN YOUR PIT LANE

@lanprincess

if she performs 'Tally' while looking Lando dead in the eyes… we riot in the streets respectfully

Paris — Bercy Arena, One Week Later

The stadium pulsed like a living organism, humming with neon energy and adrenaline. Pink lights danced along every surface, illuminating the packed sea of fans — thousands of blinking lightsticks swaying in unison like fireflies.

The BORN PINK logo flashed on the screens overhead, looping iconic BLACKPINK videos that the crowd screamed along to with full-volume precision. The bass was deep enough to vibrate through ribcages.

In the VIP pit, directly at the front of the stage, a cluster of very confused Formula 1 drivers looked like they’d accidentally wandered into an alien dimension.

Lando just added to their story

Lando stood front and center, his black hoodie pulled low and a "(Y/N) IS MY BIAS" headband shoved on his curls — courtesy of Kika, who had cackled while strapping it to him in the hotel. His cheeks were already stickered with tiny pastel hearts. He tugged on the sleeves and glanced around, mildly dazed.

“This is… intense,” he muttered, watching fans crying before the show even began.

Carlos leaned toward George, eyes wide. “Why are people already crying? Did we miss something?”

Kika, sitting beside him in a rhinestone-covered jacket, just smirked. “Because this isn’t a concert. It’s a religion.”

Alex nodded in solemn agreement. “It’s like Ferrari and the Tifosi.”

Carlos blinked, gears turning. “Ohhh…” he said, visibly connecting the dots as he scanned the arena. “That explains the screaming.”

Behind them, Charles wore a glittery “Pretty Savage” sash over his Prada shirt and held a Jisoo fan in one hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. George was juggling a tray of mochi and a limited-edition lightstick, eyes wide with amusement. “Mate, we’re in the middle of a K-pop rave.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Carmen grinned, looping her arm around his and tugging him closer. She wore a Lisa tee and matching cat ears — totally unbothered and thriving. “You’re lucky I didn’t make you wear the matching skirt.”

Pierre, in a BLACKPINK bomber jacket he insisted was “borrowed,” bobbed his head in time with Boombayah. Kika was beside him, animatedly teaching him the hand choreo.

“No, no, babe — boom bah YAH, not boom bah yeahhhh,” she shouted over the music. “There’s a difference!”

Meanwhile, Lando was holding up a handful of photocards like poker chips. “Okay, wait—who’s trading?” he said, scanning the group of teenage girls beside them. “I’ve got three Rosés, I want my girlfriend.”

A girl in a pink bucket hat gasped. “I’ll trade you for a Rosé!” She paused, her jaw dropping. “Wait—you’re Lando Norris, right?!”

Lando grinned. “Guilty. And I’m officially a BLINK now.”

Around him, the chaos only grew louder. Charles and Carlos were comparing their photocard pulls like kids in a schoolyard. George was handing out mochi like snacks at a birthday party. Rebecca and Alexandra were having their own photoshoot with the stage glowing pink behind them.

Carmen handed Lando another sticker sheet. “Put this on your cheek. You’re not fully committed yet.”

He groaned but obediently stuck a tiny sparkly heart on his face. “If the McLaren media team sees this, I’m blaming all of you.”

And then — everything changed.

The stadium lights dipped into sudden darkness. A wave of shrieking thundered through the arena, instant and deafening. On the giant screen, BLACKPINK’s latest MV burst to life, and the audience erupted, chanting every line, stomping in time, waving their lightsticks in perfect sync.

Even Carlos, startled by the sheer sound, clapped his hands over his ears. “This is louder than Monza!”

Lando couldn’t look away — the lights, the fans, the way the girls beside him were lit up like teenagers again, dancing with no care for who was watching.

He turned to Pierre, who was still holding his lightstick high like a torch. “We’ve been to Grands Prix around the world, but this—this might be the loudest crowd I’ve ever seen.”

Pierre just smirked and leaned in. “Welcome to the pink side.”

And when the lights dropped, the floor practically shook.

Lando didn’t think. He lifted his lightstick, let out a shout, and joined the storm. Tonight wasn’t about engines or trophies. It was about letting go. About dancing until your voice cracked. About watching the girl he loved rule an arena with a mic in her hand and stars in her eyes and for once, he wasn’t the one being cheered for — and he was totally okay with that.

“BLAAACKPINK”

BANG.

The arena shook as the opening beat detonated through the air like a cannon blast. LED walls erupted in pink lightning, strobes firing off in every direction. Backup dancers stormed the runway in slick, powerful formations, hips hitting each beat like war drums as they stalked toward the main stage. The audience screamed as if the roof was being torn off. Then came the synths—dark, cinematic, venomous. “Pink Venom.”

Lando practically jumped out of his skin. “Oh sh—!” he blurted, flinching as columns of fire exploded from the stage, perfectly timed to the bass.

They appeared—stepping into formation like goddesses summoned from myth, all dressed in varying shades of pure white, glowing under the pink neon floodlights.

She took center stage, her corset catching the light like diamonds. White Givenchy boots, shorts hugging her hips, every inch of her radiating danger and allure. It was elegant. It was lethal. Oscar’s jaw was somewhere on the floor.

Charles slapped Pierre’s chest. “We’re not surviving this.”

“BLAAACKPINK”

They leaned their heads back in sync then strutted to their spots on stage, hair tossed, eyes locked with the crowd, bodies clicking into place like living weapons.

“Kick in the door, waving the coco!” Jennie’s voice slashed through the stadium. The crowd erupted again. Alex physically clutched Charles’s arm. “OH MY GOD.”

Carlos gave a low whistle. “Okay, that’s how you start a concert.”

She moved with a kind of power that didn’t feel learned. It was primal. Her hips hit the beat like they were casting spells. Her face was sharp, magnetic, playful, untouchable.

“This that pink venom, this that pink venom…”

“Straight to ya dome like—whoa, whoa, whoa…”

“Taste that pink venom…”

It wasn’t just her singing. It was the way she devoured the stage, all precision and confidence. When she stepped forward, the earth practically tilted. Charles elbowed Lando, eyes wide. “You didn’t tell us she was like this.”

Lando didn’t blink. “She’s insane,” There was something surreal about seeing her under stadium lights, thousands screaming her name, Onstage, she threw him a wink mid-step like it was nothing, and Lando forgot how to breathe. He leaned closer to Charles, still not looking away.

“She’s different when she’s up there.” Charles just nodded, face slack. He got it.

Then came the outro:

“I BRING THE PAIN LIKE…”

DA-RA-TA-TA, DA-RA-TA-TA-TA—

Fire exploded behind her like a war cry. Carlos jumped six inches off his seat. “She’s LETHAL!” he gasped.

Lando flinched again, instinctively shielding his face from the heat. “Okay, damn,” he muttered. His voice was soft. Reverent. Eyes wide.

Lando turned to George, awestruck. “Why do I feel like I’m falling in love again?” George wheezed. “YOU’RE DOWN BAD, BRO.”

Pierre, mouth open, barely blinked. “That’s her? Your Girlfriend?”

Lando didn’t even answer. He couldn’t look away from the way she rolled her shoulders into a body wave that somehow made the LED screen look too small. Couldn’t believe this was the same girl who wore his hoodie and fell asleep on his chest during movie nights. This was a storm in stilettos.

Fans in the VIP section were unhinged — screaming lyrics, waving lightsticks in choreographed perfection, crying, filming, dancing like it was salvation. A girl beside George was sobbing while holding a her photocard to her chest like a relic.

The song ended. Lights cut to black. Smoke blanketed the stage.

The drivers stood there like they’d just made it through a typhoon.

“That was just one song?” Carlos blinked.

The lights came back, all five girls standing in line, eyes gleaming.

“Hana, dul, set—”

“Annyeonghaseyo, Beullaegpingkeu-ibnida!” they chorused, bowing 90 degrees. Fans went feral. They began introducing themselves one by one, voices warm, laughing, tossing casual hellos in English and broken French. She stepped forward, grinning.

“So…” Her voice curled around the mic like honey. “I have some very special guests here tonight.” The crowd went into immediate buzz-mode.

Some already knew. They’d spotted the lanky silhouettes in the VIP section, the lightsticks trembling near them. The ones trying to blend in but failing spectacularly.

“Let’s give a huge PARIS welcome to the Formula 1 drivers and the WAGS!”

BOOM SPOTLIGHT.

Right onto Lando, Charles, Pierre, George, Oscar, Carlos, Carmen, Kika, Alexandra, Lily, and Rebecca. The camera feed hit the jumbotron. The audience went nuts. They all looked like they'd just been caught sneaking into a girl’s sleepover.

“Please,” she teased, glancing their way. “Don’t be shy. Say hi!”

Charles gave the world's most awkward wave. George gave a deep, exaggerated bow like a theatre kid. Pierre threw double finger hearts, grinning. Lando? Lando shook his head, hiding his face in his hoodie. Bright red.

“Oh, come on,” Lisa pouted, hands on hips. “Landooo.”

The girls start a chant, then the crowd joins in and starts chanting his name. “LAN-DO! LAN-DO! LAN-DO!” It built fast. Unstoppable. The entire arena chanting his name.

Defeated, he stood up, raised both hands like he was being arrested, and gave a sheepish wave.

she laughed into her mic. “Don’t let him fool you. He did try to learn the choreo to ‘Pink Venom.’ I have proof.”

“You said you deleted that video!” He yelled, his hands going to cover his face.

Jennie mock-whispered into her mic, “He was actually really good though…”

The other girls giggled behind her. Lando shook his head in embarrassment.

she smiled, stepping back into formation. “And to all the F1 fans in the crowd tonight — thank you for being part of this world with me. And to my amazing, chaotic, wonderful boyfriend…” She sent him another wink.

Then the music cut in—DUN DUN DUN, DUN DUN DUN-DUN—

Her voice echoed, electric:

“Paris, are you ready for tonight? Let me hear you fucking scream!”

The crowd answered with a wall of noise. A roar that hit like a tidal wave. The night had only just begun.

Kika had both arms raised high, lightstick in one hand, belting out every word like she was part of the lineup. Her energy matched the crowd’s fever pitch — sweat, glitter, and absolute chaos.

On stage, the girls lined up like soldiers — eyes locked, chins tilted, legs set — as the arena held its breath. Then the beat dropped.

“Ha, how you like that?”

“You gon' like that, that-that-that, that, that-that-that, that—”

The crowd detonated. The floor of the stadium shook. Thousands jumped as one, lightsticks pulsing like a galaxy, the sound of the crowd almost louder than the music itself. The choreography was nothing short of assault. Explosive stomps, razor-sharp arm swings, lethal hair tosses — every move landing with sniper precision. It wasn’t dancing. It was domination.

She was a force. Every line she hit, she hit like it owed her something — her face fierce, eyes gleaming, completely locked in. Her ponytail cracked through the air like a whip, her crystal-studded harness catching every flash of light. The energy rolling off her could melt concrete. She spun, hair flying, stomping with every ounce of power she had. The second drop hit.

“Now, look at you, now look at me (uh)Look at you, now look at me (uh)Look at you, now look at me, How you like that?!”

BOOM — fire exploded from the stage in towering flames, illuminating the entire arena. The heat was real. The VIP section flinched in unison. Confetti burst into the air like a cannon, showering down like stardust. Fans were shrieking, sobbing, waving signs and lightsticks like they were trying to fly. A girl next to Charles literally fainted into her friend’s arms — completely out cold. Security was radioing medics, and no one even noticed.

Lando’s mouth was open, unmoving. His eyes wide, glitter reflecting off them. He couldn’t process what he was seeing.

On stage, she hit her final move, twisting with a full body spin, hair flying, legs stomping with raw force. The lights flared behind her, then snapped to black. In that moment, just before full darkness fell, she turned her head, smirked, tossed her ponytail over her shoulder like it weighed nothing, and strutted off the stage.

A delayed, collective scream from the crowd that shattered the air. The drivers just sat there, stunned into silence. Carlos blinked and turned slowly to Charles, eyes wide, “…I get it now.” The stadium lights cut to black.

Then – the bassline of “Pretty Savage” dropped like a cannon blast, vibrating through the floor, the walls, every chest in the arena. The rumble was so deep it felt like it shook bones loose.

Fans screamed like it was Judgment Day. Pink and white strobes sliced through the darkness, pulsing to the beat like the heartbeat of something dangerous. The giant LED screen lit up, flashing in bold chrome letters:

“You better run, run, run.”

“Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh.” she appeared on the big screen, strutting in slow motion, lips curled into a deadly smirk. “Purrr.” Each syllable hit with surgical confidence, mirrored perfectly by the rest of the girls as they emerged one by one from the shadows, owning it like they had claws out.

"BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA."

The place exploded. When she stepped forward for her line, the whole crowd leaned in like she’d cast a spell:

“All my diamonds, they yellow or bright white…”

“Got 'em blind, can't find me, bitch I’m outta sight…”

The camera snapped to her face, full zoom on the jumbotron — she smirked, eyes glinting like danger.

“If you mad, stay mad — we not alike.”

That line punched through the air, dripping with venom and power and the crowd loved it. A fresh wave of screams hit like a tsunami. You could hear girls screaming the lyrics and guys yelling like they were in a mosh pit. Someone threw a boa into the air. Security guards were full-on dancing.

The backup dancers peeled away like a tide parting, and the girls strutted forward, claiming the front of the stage like it belonged to them — because it did. She stepped back into the spotlight. She flipped her ponytail like a whip, eyes blazing. The lights hit just right, casting fire across her crystal harness as she dropped into the chorus choreography like she was forged in it. Every move was violent poetry — sharp, surgical, explosive. Even the tiniest motions were precise. The WAGs? Screaming. Dancing. Spilling drinks. Phones out. Fully obsessed. Kika was jumping like she was at a rave. Lily had slight tears in her eyes. Carmen was shouting every word.

When the chorus hit again — harder, louder, a wall of synchronized power — the girls dropped into their final formation, silhouettes outlined by a wall of blazing lights behind them.

Final pose. Lights out. The arena erupted. You’d think someone won a world championship. People were screaming. Crying. Collapsing into their friends. Charles had a hand over his mouth. Lando looked shell-shocked. Pierre just mouthed “holy shit.” Carlos turned, still stunned, to no one in particular. “…They don’t make them like that in Spain.”

The lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd. A soft pink glow bathed the stadium, delicate as a sunrise. Like the calm before a storm.

“Lovesick girls, lovesick girls…”

Lightsticks lit up like constellations, painting the arena in shimmering pink. Fans screamed every member’s name in a chaotic chorus of devotion. Phones flew into the air to capture the moment.

Their silhouettes appeared.

Like queens descending onto their throne.

As the first beat dropped, smoke curled around their boots, catching the light like magic mist. Spotlights chased their every move — soft and ethereal, like chasing ghosts made of starlight.

Her vocals broke through the air like a velvet ribbon unfurling. Silky. Haunting. Bare.

“yeongwonhan bam changmun eoptneun bange uril gadun love (love)” Endless night, love trapped us in a windowless room (love)

“What can we say? maebeon apado oechineun love (love)” What can we say? Long for love even though it hurts every time (love)

She stood alone at the edge of the stage, framed in silver light, the smoke swirling around her like a secret. Her voice echoed — not just through the arena, but into people. You could feel it.

From the VIP section, Lando leaned toward George, his eyes wide. “Her voice is unreal.” George just nodded, too stunned to respond.

The chorus kicked in, and the stadium shook with unity. Everyone was singing along:

“We are the lovesick girls…”

It wasn’t just singing — it was a tidal wave of voices, thousands of people screaming the lyrics like a prayer. Like a wound.

She reached the edge of the catwalk, twirled with practiced grace, and joined Jennie and Jisoo center stage for the pre-chorus.

“But we were born to be alone, yeah we were born to be alone…”

The beat dropped again — and suddenly it was all movement. Flashing lights, glitter cannons exploding, arms slicing the air. The five of them danced with the precision of soldiers, the softness of ballerinas, the power of a revolution.

“But why are we still looking for love?”

By the final chorus, the lights softened like a sunset. The crowd was swaying now, arms in the air, tears in their eyes. The girls slowed, movements fluid, voices layered in perfect harmony, floating over the crowd like a hymn. She stepped forward for her final line. The others faded behind her. The spotlight narrowed.

“But we’re still looking for love…”

She said it like it hurt but she smiled — a tired, soft, knowing smile because there was something beautiful about that kind of pain.

Silence. One beat. Screams. Applause. Sobbing. Chants. One guy in the pit just screamed into the sky.

She gave a tiny bow, cheeks flushed pink under the lights. She found Lando in the crowd, hands above his head, clapping with everything he had. His eyes were locked on her like nothing else existed, not the music, not the noise, just her.

In the VIP box — Lily, Carmen, Kika, and the rest of the WAGs were frozen. Slack-jawed. Shimmer-eyed. Their boyfriends? Stunned. Like they’d just seen the northern lights for the first time.

George broke it with a yell: “RUN IT BACK!”

Then came that trumpet.

DUN—DUN DUN DUN DUN.

The lights pulsed crimson. The screams were instant. Deafening.

Lando sat forward in his seat as fire cannons exploded in time with the beat. Pierre’s jaw dropped. Kika clutched his arm, eyes wide with shock and delight. Lily was already on her feet, screaming along to the instrumental intro. From the VIP row, even Charles looked stunned.

From the center of the stage, five shadows emerged through a thick wall of smoke, stomping in perfect sync. Black boots. All leather. Heavy belts. Fingerless gloves. High ponytails and sharp eyeliner. Each one looked like a cinematic villainess who could kill you and look flawless doing it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA”

Jennie exploded into the spotlight first, fierce and flawless, her presence larger than life as she delivered the iconic opening line. Her voice sliced through the air, chin high, eyes untamed and wild.

“Cheonsa gateun ‘hi’ kkeuten akma gateun ‘bye’...”

Lily’s voice cracked in disbelief. “She’s not real. She’s not even human.”

Lisa stormed forward next, flowing through the verse like water over a blade. The Korean-English rap twisted through the arena, every line delivered with laser precision.

“Here I come kick in the door!”

She strutted to the edge of the stage, one hand on her hip, the other tossing a middle finger to gravity. The crowd went feral.

Jisoo stepped into the light. Elegant. Deadly. Her vocals were rich and emotional, haunting in contrast to the savage beat. She sang like a goddess of revenge, arm raised toward the sky as if she could rewrite fate itself.

Rosé was next. Her voice soft but dangerous, golden and aching as the chorus approached. She tossed her blonde hair, let it fall like silk down her back, and gave a single, knowing smirk to the crowd before launching into the line that detonated the arena:

“LET’S KILL THIS LOVE!”

The drop hit like a meteor.

“YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH”

The beat exploded like an earthquake, and the five of them stomped forward, falling into the explosive choreography — each hit choreographed to perfection. Loud. Fierce. Like a war anthem.

RUM PUM PUM PUM PUM PUM

The choreography was thunderous — they stomped in unison, every beat of the bass a war cry. Lights strobed. Pyro flared. The crowd screamed the lyrics back with unholy energy. She [==[stepped into the center. The shift was instant, like gravity bent around her. She moved like a queen who owned the world — the glint of her black-and-gold outfit catching every flash of light as she turned her gaze to the sea of fans.

“Feelin’ like a sinner, it’s so fire with him, I go boo hoo,” she rapped, locking into step beside Lisa.

“He said, ‘You look crazy,’ thank you, baby. I owe it all to you.” Lisa rapped

Her body was a weapon — slick with sweat, her neck gleaming as she tossed her hair back, spun, and delivered her next line with a hit to the chest:

“Got me all messed up, his love is my favorite...” She sang with a strong passion.

“But you plus me sadly can be dangerous.” Lisa finished

The final chorus slammed in, and they moved like an army of five. Choreography razor-clean. Faces fierce. The final formation hit like thunder.

“LET’S KILL THIS LOVE!”

The beat dropped one last time, and the stage exploded with flames behind them — five silhouettes framed in fire, standing wide-legged, defiant, unstoppable. The stadium lost its mind. Kika and Lily screamed louder than the girls in the front row. Pierre leaned toward Lando, breathless. “You’re not coming back from that.” Lando didn’t take his eyes off the stage, jaw slack, chest heaving. “I don’t want to.” But he didn’t know what was coming next.

The lights dipped again. Smoke rolled back over the stage like a tide. A hush swept through the crowd — anticipation so thick it felt like thunder waiting to crack. Then came that slow, hypnotic whistle. A crimson spotlight swept across the stage like a hunter’s eye. BLACKPINK re-emerged like phantoms in the dark.

Lisa strutted out first — hips rolling, eyes sharp. Jennie followed, her walk slower, more deliberate, like she was stalking prey. Jisoo’s smirk was laced with poison, and Rosé’s blonde hair flicked like a whip. She stepped out last, wrapped in black lace and crimson mesh. Her thigh-high boots glinted under the strobes, her hair braided back tight with silver chains running through. She didn’t walk — she prowled. Then came the line.

“I’ve been known to kiss and tell…” Her voice was molten. Deadly. “Send girls to wishing wells. If you’re my man, I want you to myself.” She didn’t just sing it — she owned it. Her eyes scanned the crowd like she was choosing a target. “I know I’ll have enemies, as long as you’re into me. But I don’t care—’cause I got what I need.”

Jisoo and Rosé took the pre-chorus, their voices featherlight but dangerous, the calm before a storm. She moved to center as the beat climbed.

“I went crazy over you~~ (ah ah) over you, only you (ah ah)!”

The choreography locked into place — hips snapping, arms slicing, bodies moving with devastating precision. Lightsticks rippled like a sea of neon.

Lisa’s solo verse. The scream from the crowd nearly shattered the sound barrier. She rapped with sensual venom: “Feels wrong, but it’s right, right / Blacked out, no night light…” She stalked the edge of the stage, hair flying, her body a sinuous line of motion. At one point she grabbed her waist and tugged her top slightly down, just enough to make the entire stadium gasp. Jennie’s verse came next — sultry, sharp as glass.

“Boy, by the time I’m done / I won’t be the only one…” She leaned into the camera and grinned like a devil in lipstick. The entire screen behind her turned red.

Rosé’s voice soared over the final chorus. Lisa threw her head back mid-verse. Jisoo winked with lethal charm. She blew a kiss. Right at the VIP box. Straight at Lando.

It was surgical. She twirled, dropped low, and came back up into perfect formation as the final chorus hit like a heartbeat.

The screen behind them shimmered with glitching red florals and black static as they moved into the final dance break — a flurry of hips, precision steps, flowing arms, and rolling shoulders, a seduction in every breath.

Charles leaned forward. “Did she just—?”

“She winked at you last song too,” George added. Lando didn’t blink.

“I know.”

The final beat struck. The lights went out. Lando was still staring at the stage. Grinning, breathless, proud, stunned, and utterly hers.

The lights dimmed again, plunging the stadium into a sea of flickering crimson. A hush swept over the crowd like a tide pulling back, anticipation thrumming through every chest like the moment before a storm breaks. A single piano note echoed then another, flames erupted along the edges of the stage, curling upward like the breath of a dragon. The intro to “Playing With Fire” slithered through the speakers — slow, sultry, dangerous.

Jennie stepped forward, emerging from the shadows like a queen drenched in war paint. Her red leather corset gleamed under the spotlight, high ponytail swinging with calculated precision. She didn’t just sing — she declared.

"Uri eomman mael naege malhaesseo." Her voice sliced through the air like a blade. Controlled. Untouchable. Her hair pulled back into a high pony, red leather corset gleaming under the spotlight. Her voice sliced through the air like a warning.

Then Jisoo moved in beside her — fluid, graceful, her deep voice the kind that haunted and lingered. “Eomma mari kkok majeuljjido molla.” Her every step was poetry with an edge, her eyes locked on the camera like she was telling a secret.

Rosé followed, her blonde hair catching every flicker of the flames. Her voice — all silk and smoke — curled around the next line like it hurt to sing it. “Meomchul su eomneun i tteollimeun, on and on and on.”

Then the beat shifted. Lisa strutted into frame, swagger oozing from every move. She rapped her verse like she owned the planet “Look at me, look at me now, ireoke neon nalaetaeugo.” like the floor belonged to her alone. She pointed into the crowd, smirked, and half the stadium swore she picked them.

“Uri sarangeun buljangnan (oh, oh, oh) my love is on fire (ooh)”

Her voice cut like a blade and soothed like honey, a raw blend of rasp and control that made the air feel heavier. She spun with Lisa, their backs touching as they circled the center of the stage like lions — every move precise, magnetic. In the VIP box, chaos was in full bloom.

George looked like he’d just seen God. “Lando. Is that normal? Like... does she always move like that?”

Pierre didn’t even blink. “I think I stopped breathing.” Kika screamed into her hands. Lily just stood there whispering, “She’s not real,” over and over like a mantra. But Lando? He didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.

He was frozen — elbows on his knees, jaw slack, chest rising fast. Eyes locked on her. It wasn’t just an attraction. It was awe. A punch to the gut and a pull to the chest all at once. Every sway of her hips, every hair toss, every time her hand carved the air like she was painting fire — it all struck him somewhere deep. Somewhere dangerous. That body roll. She smirked straight at him, lips curled, eyes dark with mischief. She hit the move like she’d been waiting for him to look, and he was definitely looking. Lando exhaled like he’d been sucker punched.

The girls dropped into formation. Five silhouettes cloaked in smoke and fire.

"My love is on fire..."

The beat dropped, and they hit the floor hard — one leg bent and the other extended, hair whipping forward like whips. Heels slammed the stage. The impact of their synchronized pose rippled through the entire stadium.

Kika screamed, “OH MY GOD!”

Lando didn’t blink. Couldn’t. His pulse was in his throat. His hands were gripping the edge of his seat. His mouth was open slightly, breath caught mid-air. She was absolutely in her element. Firelight flickered across her skin as she leaned into the final chorus, eyes wild, dancing like she was made of flame herself. She caught his eye again. Just for a second, and winked. He swore the entire world tilted.

The final chorus roared through the stadium. She sang with her whole chest, dancing like it was the last stage she'd ever see. Flames licked at her heels. Sweat shimmered on her skin. Every line she delivered struck Lando in the ribs.

The girls snapped into their ending pose. She stood front and center, arm outstretched like she’d just dropped a match on gasoline. Her expression was unreadable — somewhere between fierce and feral. Her lips parted like she was still catching her breath.

The lights cut.

The crowd screamed. In the darkness, all you could hear were breaths, cheers, and the rapid beating of thousands of hearts, including Lando’s. He leaned back slowly, trying to exhale but failing.

“Mate…” George whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified. “You’re in so much trouble.”

But Lando just grinned, wide and dazed, eyes still on the darkened stage.

“I know,” he said, voice hoarse. “I really fucking know.”

And the stage began to light again — this time with a single spotlight. The solos were starting.

But Lando? He was still sitting there like he'd been struck by lightning. He was already waiting for her to come back.

“Flower”

The stadium lights softened to a pale violet glow, washing over the crowd like moonlight over still water. A gentle breeze, almost imagined, seemed to drift through the air as delicate cherry blossom petals floated across the LED screens — swirling, slow, dreamlike.

Soft, weightless — they drifted across the massive LED screens and fell from above, holographic projections that shimmered like falling stars. The silence was reverent. Sacred. Jisoo emerged alone from the side of the stage.

Her outfit was a breathtaking fusion — a modern reinterpretation of a Hanbok, lilac and silver silk catching the light with every slow, intentional step. Silver hairpins glinted in her dark, flowing hair, which spilled down her back in effortless waves. A sheer train followed behind her, delicate as morning mist.

The first haunting notes of “Flower” played — the unmistakable, delicate “eh-eh, eh, eh” The crowd fell silent. Not out of boredom, but reverence. Kika gasped and gripped Alex’s arm, whispering like she didn’t want to break the spell, “She looks like a literal princess.”

Jisoo began to move — slow, controlled, almost fragile — her hands tracing invisible lines through the air as if scattering petals with every motion. Each flick of her wrist was purposeful. Every step a story. She twirled. The lights flared softly around her like a blooming flower. The crowd, thousands of voices strong, sang along gently — almost respectfully — not daring to overpower her voice but needing to be part of the moment.

From the VIP box, Charles leaned forward, eyes narrowed in focus. “Is this the one with the flower move?” he murmured, a touch of awe in his tone. Then it came — the iconic point dance.

Jisoo raised her hands in that now-famous flourish, wrists twirling delicately in front of her face, her expression caught somewhere between heartache and poise. Graceful. Hypnotic. Her body swayed like a stem in the wind. Each move was intentional, soft but weighted. A woman letting go without ever fully breaking. Pierre, who hadn't looked away once, muttered under his breath, “No wonder TikTok lost its mind.”

As the final chorus rang out, Jisoo knelt in the center of the stage, fingers gently pinching the air like she was holding the last petal of a wilted rose. She let it fall. The lights faded to dusk. The crowd, again, screamed but it was a different kind of scream it was softer, emotional, like they’d all just been let in on something private. Charles, who rarely said much during performances, simply nodded. “She made heartbreak look like art.”

“On The Ground” / “Gone”

The stage dipped into moody twilight, hues of midnight blue and soft gray bleeding into the crowd. A single spotlight glowed like a distant moon, focused on a raised circular platform center-stage. There sat Rosé. Alone, cross-legged, a white electric guitar resting in her lap like an old friend. Dressed in a sleek black and white two-piece — tailored and minimal, but gleaming with subtle rhinestones — she looked like the personification of heartbreak itself. Glittering trails were painted beneath her eyes like tears caught in the spotlight.

The first lonely chords of “Gone” echoed through the arena, and her voice followed — fragile, aching, painfully raw. Like an open letter no one was supposed to read aloud.

Every word felt like a confession.

In the VIP box, Carlos blinked slowly, visibly hit. “Okay… this one’s hitting my soul.”

Rosé closed her eyes as she sang the chorus, her head tilted slightly back. Her voice cracked — not out of weakness, but because it was real. Like she'd lived every word.

Lando turned to Lily, who stood frozen with both hands clasped to her chest, already mouthing every lyric. “She’s your favorite?” he asked gently.

Lily nodded without looking away. “She always will be.”

The song faded into silence, like a sigh. The platform began to lower slowly, fog spilling around its base. The stage pulsed with a heartbeat-like thrum. The crowd stirred.

Rosé reappeared downstage, the guitar now slung across her back. The lights behind her flared white-hot and golden, like spotlights on a runway. She walked forward with slow, deliberate confidence — like someone who had broken, and then learned how to carry every shard.

“Everything I need is on the ground…”

Fans raised their phones, thousands of lights blinking in sync. Rosé’s voice soared, full of longing and clarity, as she poured herself into the bridge. George was swaying with his phone flashlight on, looking completely unironically emotional.

As the final chorus swelled, Rosé made her way to the edge of the stage, kneeling down with one hand outstretched. Fans in the front row reached for her like she was something divine, something rare — and she smiled through her tears, fingers brushing theirs gently. Even Charles, previously the most neutral observer, just shook his head and said, “I get it now. I get the hype.” Lando glanced at Lily again, who had wiped a tear without shame.

“Wasn’t expecting to cry tonight,” he muttered. She smiled through watery eyes. “That’s Rosé for you.” The final note rang out — soft, lingering, bittersweet.

Rosé stood in the haze, bowed once with both hands over her heart, then walked offstage slowly, guitar still strapped to her back.

The lights dimmed. The crowd roared. And somewhere in the noise, everyone realized: they’d just witnessed a masterclass in quiet devastation.

“Money” / “Lalisa”

The stadium blacked out. Not a single light, not a single sound. Just pure silence. A bass drop like a thunderclap. Red strobe lights exploded across the stage like a warning alarm. The iconic beat of “Money” shook the floor, rattling through every ribcage in the building.

Lisa strutted onto the stage like a storm made flesh. Black leather crop top, matching shorts with chrome chains swinging at her hips, knee-high boots that clicked with every step. Sunglasses on. Braids slicked and sharp. She wasn’t just performing — she was declaring war.

“It’s the end of the month and the weekend…”

The crowd detonated and so did the VIP box. Pierre literally stood up like he’d just seen God. “SHE’S INSANE.” Kika, dancing full-body in her chair, screamed, “GO OFF, LISA!!”

Lisa moved like the laws of physics didn’t apply to her — every step precise, every hair flip calculated, every smirk weaponized. She snapped her hips to the beat, crowd wrapped around her finger. Then came the sunglasses moment — ripped off and tossed into the pit as she slid into a perfect split. George clutched his chest. She rose from the floor like a phoenix, hair flying, eyes gleaming, and just as the beat seemed to slow—

“LALISA” dropped. Seamless transition. No mercy.

The visuals on the screen turned gold, flames licked the edges of the stage, and Lisa grinned — a real grin — the kind that meant trouble.

“Lalisa, love me, Lalisa, love me.” She switched to Thai mid-verse and the crowd went ballistic. Flags waved. Fandoms collided. Lisa tore through the choreo like she was born to set fires.

Carlos turned to Charles, voice barely audible over the noise. “I’m scared and obsessed.”

Lisa didn’t miss a single beat. From body rolls to hair whips, from center stage to the edge, she owned it. Total domination. By the time the bridge hit, she’d pulled off a mic drop moment without even touching the mic. One last spin. A wink. A kiss blown to the rafters. She twirled offstage with a strut that could’ve shut down traffic. Her smirk should’ve been classified as a weapon. The crowd lost its mind.

In the VIP box, Lando was blinking like he’d just come out of a trance. He leaned toward Oscar, completely dazed. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oscar just snorted and shook his head. “And you think I’m intense?”

Kika leaned across George, grinning. “Lisa does not come to play.”

Backstage, you could already hear the faint thrum of the final solo building… and the screams weren’t stopping anytime soon.

"You & Me” (Coachella Version)

The lights melted into a soft, smoky hazy blue as fog curled low over the stage floor like a rising tide. A crescent moon appeared, suspended above, glowing silver against the midnight sky backdrop. The arena held its breath.

Jennie.

Dressed in a glittering, crystal-studded mini dress that shimmered like moonlight on water, her hair slicked back in perfect waves, her heels silent as she stepped forward — like she was floating. A dream in motion. A fevered vision no one could look away from.

“I love you and me, dancing in the moonlight…” Her voice was soft, seductive, delicate but deadly — like lace draped over a dagger. Jennie moved like water — smooth, fluid, yet sharp when she wanted to be. Every movement intentional. Every flick of her wrist, every slow roll of her hips, was magnetic. She didn’t need to try.

The crowd began chanting her name between verses like a spell.

“JENNIE! JENNIE! JENNIE!”

She tossed her hair, smirked into the camera, and sang the next line like she was letting someone in on a secret.

The beat dropped and Jennie snapped into full power. Lights pulsed to the rhythm. Backup dancers emerged like shadows circling her, but no one could touch her spotlight. She was pure command — hitting every step, every glide, every shoulder roll with the poise of someone who knew the world watched… and liked it that way.

Lily gasped “This is—this is ART.”

Jennie did a slow spin, dropped into a low dip, and when she rose — lips parted, eyes lidded, breathing heavy — the crowd screamed like it was the end of the world.

Kika, unable to look away, eyes wide with a grin. “Everyone wants to be her. Period.” She had an effect — a silent, slow burn that kept getting hotter the longer you watched.

As the last chorus melted into the bridge, Jennie walked forward — alone again — under the moonlight. The audience swayed with her. She ended with a slow, teasing bow, one hand to her chest, the other extended like she was offering her heart — or maybe daring someone to take it. The lights dimmed. The screams erupted.

Pierre, stunned, barely able to find words, just said, “She scares me. In the best way.”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah. That wasn’t a performance. That was possession.”

The stage reset began. Everyone knew who was coming next.

“Thunder” / “Seoul City”

The stadium lights shattered into flickering diamonds — strobes pulsing like a heartbeat. Then the spotlight hit.

She stepped out wearing a rhinestone-studded mini dress that caught every glint of light, silver platform boots that stomped like authority, and glittering braids piled high, she looked like a Y2K pop goddess summoned from a fever dream. Her mic shimmered under the spotlights — so did she. A row of dancers flanked her like a glam squad of It-girls, and the first beat dropped.

“Got that uh-huh, that uh-huh, Big big uh-huh”

The crowd exploded. Banners waved. Fans shrieked. She didn’t just command attention — she demanded it. She strutted down the catwalk with a smirk that could end wars, flipping her hair, winking straight into the steadicam like the stage was hers — because it was. Her choreography was pure fire: sharp, sexy, playful — the kind of movement that screamed effortlessness while still being precision-cut. She didn’t just move with the music; she was the music.

“Somethin’ a little like thunder, got that make you wonder…”

Every sway of her hips, every body roll, every sly smile left the crowd breathless. She sang live — her voice powerful and sultry, flipping from airy high notes to confident rap bars without breaking a sweat.

“No, you said I’ll never get by. Now look at me I’m so high." Lando jolted in his seat like he’d been struck. Face flushed, lips parted, eyes wide. Pierre elbowed him but got no reaction.

“You wanna know what it feel’s like…”

“It’s like, Got the uh-huh, that uh-huh” The beat morphed, pulsing smoother, darker — and the crowd collectively screamed as "Seoul City" began.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh…”

Lights went soft, pink and violet. Her silhouette curved as she leaned into her mic, slow and seductive. She walked with lazy grace, like a panther. Her voice melted over the beat.

“Give me hug, need your love, touch my thigh, tell me what puts you in that mind” Lando sat frozen, jaw clenched, chest visibly rising and falling.

“I could be, be your prize, pick me up. Flying high, paradise… in Seoul City.” The dancers fell away. The lights tightened.

She was alone again. A single spotlight. And she knelt — on her knees at the very end of the stage. Looking directly at him.

“Would you make me your boss, pretty please? Pretty please, let me ease your mind…” Lando’s hand curled tightly around his thigh.

She sang only to him: “Look at me, can you breathe?” “Ah…” (inhale)

And she leaned her head back, her neck glistening with sweat, the rhinestones of her dress catching like stars. The crowd screamed so loud it rattled the floor. She stayed there — a beat of silence, eyes closed. Lando’s lips parted like he’d forgotten he had them.

“Ah…” (exhale)

She smirked at the crowd. At him. “I could give you life.”

She rose like a queen ascending.

Dance break. Spins. Hair flips. Body rolls sharp enough to kill. Smoke jets burst. Strobe lights went wild. She ended center stage, arms out, head tilted. The screen behind her pulsed once more — then blackout, the entire stadium ROARED. Kika screamed into Pierre’s jacket. Charles and Alex looked shell-shocked. Even stoic Oscar had to sit down. Carmen and Lily shaking their hammerbongs like crazy. And Lando? Lando was gone. Mouth open, heart pounding. Wrecked.

George leaned in, eyes wide. “Mate… you need air?”

Lando blinked once and covered his face. “I need a priest.”

Vivaldi’s “La Campanella” rang through the stadium, its sharp strings plucking ominously, slow and deliberate—like a warning. The crowd roared in recognition, screams piercing through the hush that followed. The lights flickered once. Twice. Then the bass dropped.

The stage exploded in pulsing white strobes and swirling smoke. Trap beats thundered through the arena, shaking the floor. The screen came to life with glitching chrome graphics, and through the haze, five silhouettes emerged.

“Keombaegi anya tteonan joek eopseunikka—” Jennie’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

The five of them stalked forward in a clean, synchronized line, their steps heavy and deliberate. Final boss energy. The crowd lost it — banners shaking, fans crying, phones in the air.

Lando was frozen. His jaw clenched, eyes tracking only one person on that stage.. She didn’t even look at him, not yet but she knew he was watching.

“Stay in your own lane cause im bout to swerve. Catch me when you hear my McLaren go vroom, vroom, vroom” She changed the lyric and the staduim heard it. Lando’s jaw actually dropped. A full beat of silence before he caught himself and tried to play it off, swallowing a grin. Carlos slapped his chest.

She smirked into the camera, sweat glistening on her temple, eyes locked in, spinning into another sharp move like she hadn’t just turned a stadium into rubble. Fans screamed. Carlos slapped Lando's arm as Lando tried to play it cool. “She just said McLaren, Mate.”

“She’s ridiculous,” he whispered. Lando was already leaning forward. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, eyes fixed on her like he’d been hit by a damn spell. She was locked in — sweat glistening at her hairline, muscles flexing as she spun, popped, dropped. A goddess with a vengeance.

“When we pull up you know it’s a shutdown…” Lisa exploded into her verse, her ponytail snapping like a whip. Jennie strutted to the side, gun-loaded in leather and rhinestones. Jisoo followed, eyes cool, moving with icy precision. Rosé twirled into a glow, her voice soaring.

“Whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it…”

Jisoo came in next, her vocals ethereal but cool as ice. She twirled and landed into formation like it was effortless. Her eyes flicked over the crowd as if to say, Bow down.

Rosé’s voice rang out crystal-clear, fingers gliding through her wavy hair as she hit a spin and sent the mic up to the sky. Then all five of them lined up.The chorus dropped.

“Shut it down, BLACKPINK in your area…shut it down BLACKPINK in your area”

The chorus slammed in like a hammer. Hips snapped, arms sliced, boots thundered across the stage. They were choreo monsters — no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just raw, weaponized artistry.

“Keep talkin’, we shut you down.”

The lights cut. A flicker of flame — dollar signs scrolling across the screen, slow pink fire curling from the corners. The bassline growled like a beast waking up.

A spotlight cracked open. “Typa Girl.”

Rosé emerged first, her chrome corset throwing reflections across the crowd like shattered glass. She prowled forward, her gaze slicing through the fans. Every syllable had bite.

“Typa girl that’s gonna make you wanna dream…”

Lisa took over next, hair sleek and straight, dressed in an elegant deconstructed blazer with diamond-cut slits at the waist and boots that clicked with power. Her delivery was chill and sly, a smirk curving her lips as she sang,

“Typa girl that come straight up off the screen…”

The dancers moved around them in clean, sharp patterns, letting each girl have their moment while matching their tempo. Lights flashed red and gold in rhythm with the beat.

Jennie stepped into the spotlight next, loose waves flowing, a glittering fringe top catching every bit of light. Her voice rang out clear and strong.

“Typa girl you wanna ice up, make me freeze…”

Jisoo took her verse next, dressed in black leather and rhinestones, moving like she owned the entire universe. Her delivery was fierce, unapologetic, her voice snapping over the beat.

“You the typa girl you wanna wife up, sign the pre…”

She stepped forward.

Hair up in a high, sleek braided ponytail. Wearing a custom hot pink crop jacket over a bustier, chains dripping from her belt, and heeled boots laced with silver. She smirked before her mic even touched her lips — she knew what she was about to do.

“I bring money to the table, not your dinner. Both my body and my bank account, good figure…” She popped a hip, flicked her braid, The crowd lost it. And so did lando

She rapped and sang effortlessly, snapping her fingers with the beat, hips rolling, eyes flicking toward the VIP section with a wink. Lando didn’t even try to play it cool — he was already clapping above his head, yelling something completely inaudible.

“I’m the typa girl that make you forget that you got a type— Typa make you love me when the only thing you’ve done is like…”

Fireworks exploded from the stage. A wall of smoke and pink lights flashed behind them. Fans were screaming, singing along, sobbing — all at once.

Carmen was yelling in pure joy, arm around Lily, both of them mimicking the choreo with near-perfect accuracy. Kika was recording on her phone with her other hand, spinning in a circle and shrieking. “THIS IS A WORKOUT,” Carmen yelled.

Lando had a big, goofy, lovesick smile smeared across his face like he’d just seen the divine.

As the song came to its end, each girl hit their final pose — She at the front, winking over her shoulder, her breath heavy but her grin wide. The crowd erupted. She flipped a lock of hair out of her face, panting slightly, and looked directly at the VIP row. Lando, still clapping like an idiot, smiled at her like she’d just invented the sun.

The stage turned dark.

Then—

A sharp flicker of neon pink and deep crimson, followed by a BOOM that echoed through the stadium like a detonation. The LED screens blazed alive—swirling diamonds, liquid fire, and smoke curling with menace. The bass dropped like a threat.

“BLACKPINK!”

The girls appeared like a storm.

Lisa emerged first, stalking across the stage in glittering chrome and black buckled boots. Her high ponytail whipped behind her like a weapon. She pointed at the crowd with a smirk, turned, and strutted—power incarnate.

Jennie followed, swathed in a sharp corset two-piece with long gloves and a mini-cape slicing the air behind her. Her eyes were locked forward, cold, confident, carved from pure fire.

Jisoo shimmered next, draped in deep blood-red, her slit dress revealing just enough to tease, chains dancing at her hip with each movement. She was elegance dipped in danger.

Rosé flowed in like a melody—her glittery mesh set catching the lights like stardust, blonde waves bouncing, gaze playful. She winked at the crowd, a gentle promise of incoming chaos.

And finally, she emerged in a custom jet-black bodysuit with hot pink embroidery cutting down her sides, sharp cutouts at the waist, and thigh-high boots that owned the floor. Her long hair was down, slick and wild, and her eyes—those eyes—scanned the arena like she was hunting.

The crowd screamed so loud it shook the stadium.

“Hit you with that ddu-du ddu-du du,”

All five snapped into formation. The choreo was deadly — sharp angles, full control, like a weapon honed for war. Up in the VIP section, Lando’s jaw actually dropped. Carlos leaned over. “You okay?” Lando didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the stage, and more specifically. She moved like thunder and silk. The way her hips hit each beat, the whip of her hair, the sheer command—he wasn’t watching his girlfriend perform. He was watching a goddamn phenomenon. Then the second verse hit. Lights shifted. The bass curled low and heavy, seductive.

Lily leaned toward Lando, yelling over the music, “YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS ABOUT TO GO OFF!”

Lando turned, confused—until she stepped forward.

“I’m getting money by the hundreds. All my GQ’s spread like hummus. Bullshit for the birds that are coming. I’ma say that shit again — I’m the mail, I run it. Drop that like you got a hot track, so you wanna knock that, got another banger. Real talk, I’ma let the Os talk. You can see the billions, better call a banker.”

The way she hit her lines faster than the backtrack — every word dripping with venom and velvet — had even the security guards vibing. She shot a quick smirk to the VIP section mid-verse, eyes finding Lando.

Lando forgot how to breathe. Carlos swore under his breath. “Mate,” Carlos muttered, “I think you just blacked out.”

When the song ended, they struck their final pose — five icons, backlit in flame and glitter, breathless and proud.

People screaming, phones up, WAGs dancing like backup dancers, Carmen and Lily losing their minds, Kika shouting along like she was on stage herself. Fans sobbed, jumped, chanted. The floor shook.

He was still staring at her. his hands mid-clap, lips parted in awe. A man was completely ruined in real-time.

She flipped a lock of hair out of her face, chest heaving slightly as she turned her head toward him again. She knew.

In that moment, there was no denying it: BLACKPINK had just obliterated the stage.

Then came the opening chords of “Tally.” The crowd roared in recognition — slower, sultrier, unapologetically defiant. Smoke curled across the stage floor. The lights dimmed into a moody violet haze, shifting to deep pinks and blues. The girls moved in closer, their silhouettes bold and sharp.

She stepped forward. Eyes locked on Lando. Her voice dropped smooth, velvet, and venom:

“I say F it when I feel it, ‘Cause no one’s keeping tally. I do what I want with who I like—”

She dragged her gaze across the crowd, then right back to Lando — holding it this time, firm and unblinking.

“I ain't gon' conceal it. While you talking all that shit, I’ll be gettin’ mine, gettin’ mine.”

She didn’t just sing the line. She delivered it like a dagger wrapped in silk, her mouth curling into a smirk, that wicked glint in her eye daring him to flinch. Lando’s breath hitched. For a moment, he forgot there were 50,000 people between them. It felt like she was singing to no one else.

Next to him, Carlos snorted. “She’s really letting you have it, bro.”

Lily was already filming him. “I need your reaction for the group chat,” she whispered, gleeful. She pivoted out of frame as Lisa slid forward, eyes cool, smile sharp.

“Don’t apologize for my behavior— If you’re offended, I don’t care.”

The crowd screamed the next line before she even hit it, thousands of voices yelling in sync, vibrating through the air like gospel. The girls weren’t just performing — they were testifying. As the track faded into its final echo, the beat of “Boombayah” dropped like a lightning bolt and chaos reigned. Lights strobed gold and fuchsia. Pyro exploded at the sides of the stage. A wild party anthem reborn — the ultimate encore.

BLACKPINK went off.

They danced with pure, uninhibited joy, hair whipping, outfits shimmering, owning the stage like queens at the end of a world tour. Backup dancers flooded in. Confetti blasted into the air. The jumbotron spun wild shots of the crowd losing their absolute minds.

She grabbed Jennie’s hand and twirled her with a laugh, then bumped hips with Rosé. Jisoo grinned as she leaned into Lisa, who hit a final freestyle pop move that made the dancers lose it. The energy was electric — all five of them glowing like they’d just stolen the sun.

Lando was grinning without realizing it, eyes glued to She the whole time. She was laughing, sweat shining on her brow, eyes alive. She looked… free.

Not the composed, mysterious icon the press usually showed — but a girl on fire, dancing with her sisters, with no care in the world except the moment she was in.

As the final chorus roared out —

“LET’S GO, LET’S GO” they struck their last pose. Fireworks detonated behind them in a rainbow of sparks. The crowd went feral. She bowed low, one arm sweeping with flair, then popped up with a wink to the crowd — and one last glance toward Lando. He clapped slowly, arms crossed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

“She told you,” Carlos said, nudging him.

“She performed it at me,” Lando muttered, lips twitching.

Lily was still filming. “How do you feel about being the muse for BLACKPINK’s soft diss track era?”

Lando said, grinning now. “Turned on and in shock.”

“You looked like you were about to propose mid-verse,” Carlos teased. Lando rubbed a hand over his face, watching her on the jumbotron as she waved to fans and blew kisses. His chest felt tight with something he couldn’t explain — pride, awe, a little bit of fear. That woman on stage? She was a force of nature. And she was his.

As BLACKPINK made their final waves and bowed one last time, the lights dimmed, the confetti still raining, and the crowd chanted their names like a prayer. Lando didn’t move until they were fully off stage and even then, he was still staring, heart hammering.

BACKSTAGE – MOMENTS AFTER THE SHOW

The moment BLACKPINK disappeared behind the curtain, the chaos flipped — stage thunder swapped for backstage electricity.

Hair stylists ran forward with towels and water bottles, managers called out instructions, and camera crews scrambled to capture the afterglow. But the girls? They were buzzing. Sweaty, glowing, laughing — still riding the high.

She tore off her mic pack, tossing her hair back as Lisa grabbed her by the waist and spun her in a half-circle.

“We ATE,” Lisa shrieked and jumped up and down.

“Obliterated.” Rosé was breathless, hugging Jisoo as they both burst into giggles.

The dressing room doors flew open.

“THAT WAS INSANE,” Kika yelled first, practically charging in with Lily right behind him.

Rosé was mid-sip of coconut water when she froze, eyes lighting up. “Wait— are those the drivers?!” Jennie turned first, arms up like a champ. “Where’s my trophy?!?”

“Yo!” Lisa spun around in her chair, glowing with post-show adrenaline, and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Charles. “You’re the Ferrari guy. I watched Drive to Survive.” Alex laughed.

Charles did a dramatic little bow. “And you’re Lisa. I watched you end lives on stage just now.”

It was a collision of worlds, and it was glorious.

Jennie, regal even with a towel over her shoulders, raised an eyebrow and looked up at George. “Which team are you?”

“Mercedes,” he said smoothly, offering a hand. “Big fan. Huge.”

Jisoo giggled, “You guys all look like you came from a Bond movie.”

“Right back at you,” Pierre murmured, half in awe, half definitely already crushing.

Lisa, eyeing Carlos, tilted her head. “And you’re the funny one.”

“I knew she’d like me,” Carlos whispered behind his hand to Lando.

Meanwhile, she was slipping out from a side corridor, fresh from a quick change into loose black sweatpants, a cropped tee, and her hair still damp at the ends. She hadn’t even seen Lando yet—until she turned the corner and froze. He was already watching her. She looked tired but alive, radiant in that post-performance glow. Their eyes locked.

For a moment, everything else blurred. Shewalked up, quiet, smiling. Lando didn’t say anything. He just opened his arms and she walked right in.

No words needed — he wrapped his arms around her, tucked his face into her neck, and breathed. She smelled like vanilla, sweat, and stage fog. She was laughing softly against his collar. “I destroyed you a little bit out there,” she murmured.

He pulled back just enough to grin at her. “Yeah. But like, in a hot way.”

She rolled her eyes, kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“You’re my favorite member.”

“You’re just saying that because I looked straight at you during Tally.”

“You gutted me during Tally.”

They laughed, and just like that, the storm of cameras and cheers and chaos faded around them.

LATER – POST-CONCERT DINNER

A private restaurant in downtown Paris.

The kind of place tucked between cobblestone alleys and centuries-old shutters — where the windows glowed gold, the wine list had no prices, and the laughter could be heard from the street.

They’d taken over the back room, of course — one long wooden table under warm hanging lights, plates of charred bread and creamy burrata, glasses filled with deep red wine and sparkling water. The afterglow of the concert still hung in the air like perfume. Makeup a little smudged, heels half-kicked off, voices soft and easy now.

BLACKPINK x F1. It felt surreal, like a crossover episode no one saw coming.

Lisa was mid-rant, waving her fork like a conductor. “Okay, but LA traffic is not just bad. It’s psychotic. I had one guy try to side-eye merge through me—”

George held up a calming hand. “Alright. Clearly, you need proper driving lessons.” Lisa narrowed her eyes. “Are you offering? On a track?”

“You know what?” George shrugged with a grin. “Yeah. I am.” Lisa leaned back, smirking. “Bet.”

Jennie, in a silky black dress and an oversized blazer that somehow made her look even more intimidatingly cool, was leaned in close to Lily, snorting with laughter as they compared their most ridiculous airport looks. “No, no, wait,” Jennie said between giggles, scrolling through her camera roll. “This one. It was 5 AM and I wore pajama pants with heels. The customs guy looked like he wanted to cry.”

“Iconic,” Lily grinned, stealing a fry from Oscar’s plate.

Rosé and Charles were at the end of the table, completely absorbed in a heated debate over sad girl anthems.

“Phoebe Bridgers,” Rosé said, swirling her wine.

“Lana Del Rey,” Charles argued. “Pure emotional devastation.”

“She’s depression in a dress, sure,” Rosé conceded, “but Phoebe is like a heartbreak stabbing you slowly with a glittery spoon.”

Carlos stood up suddenly, half-drunk on red wine and vibes. He raised his glass with a flourish.

“To BLACKPINK — legends, icons, heartbreakers." he turned dramatically toward the middle of the table, "Thank you for making our dear Lando spiral in real time on camera." He motioned to her.

The table erupted. Kika almost spit up her drink. Pierre nearly choked. Lisa was pounding the table in laughter.

Lando just launched a cloth napkin at Carlos’ head. She just smiled, glowing, cheeks flushed with warmth and wine. She leaned back in her chair, elbow resting lightly on Lando’s. “He’ll recover,” she said airily, taking a slow sip of her wine, “eventually.”

Lando leaned closer, voice low just for her. “Barely.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass, eyes dancing. “Still not over Seoul City, huh?”

“You aimed that whole verse at me, don’t even lie.” She smirked. “I’m not even mad about it.”

“I know,” she said softly, gaze drifting down to his lips for half a second. “That’s why it worked.”

Their knees brushed under the table again. Neither of them moved away.

When the bill came, there was a brief, chaotic moment where the girls protested, reaching for clutches and tapping phones. But the drivers were already ten steps ahead.

Pierre and Kika took care of Jisoo, who tried to argue once before Kika waved her off with a, “Don’t even try, babe.”

Carlos and Rebecca cover Lisa, who raised a brow. “Look at you, all gentleman-y.”

Charles and Alex handled Jennie’s, despite her muttering something about “highway robbery” for a round of oysters.

George and Carmen waved Rosé’s card away, George bowing dramatically. “Artists should be spoiled. It’s in the Geneva Convention.”

Lando picked up the bill, card already in the folder, before she noticed.

She turned toward him, brows raised. “You didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said, voice low and sincere. She laughed under her breath, nudging his knee again. “I love you”

“I love you, too” he said, eyes soft now, his hand brushing hers under the table — a touch so quiet no one else noticed and in the low hum of the room — wine buzzed and heart-light — She looked at him like she finally saw it. This boy, who always laughed the loudest and looked like sunshine, was also the one who looked at her like she hung the stars.

Paris after midnight was made for secrets and softness.

The streets had emptied, the night warm with the kind of breeze that lifted curls and carried perfume. They walked side by side, just the two of them now, drifting slowly through the city like they had nowhere else to be.

He held her hand — not tight, not possessive. Just a gentle, open-threaded kind of touch. Like he was afraid if he let go, the moment would disappear. She didn’t pull away. They turned a corner near the Seine, the river glittering like spilled starlight beneath the bridges.

“You were something else tonight,” Lando said, voice quiet. “Completely irresistible”

She smiled slowly, cheeks flushed, eyes warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only about you,” he murmured.

They stopped at the edge of the bridge, the kind with cast iron rails and lovers’ locks from years past. Paris spread out before them like a painting. The air was sweet with lilacs from a nearby florist’s cart, abandoned now for the night. His hand rested lightly on her waist. The city hummed around them, but it felt like they were wrapped in something quieter — something just for them.

She leaned in slowly, the space between them collapsing like it was always meant to. Her lips brushed his — barely at first. A whisper of a kiss, then deeper, warmer. His hand slid up to cradle her jaw, the kiss slow, reverent. There was no rush. No need to perform. Just the quiet, aching honesty of two people choosing each other.

When they pulled back, her eyes were glassy with starlight.

“Wanna head back to the hotel?” he asked, voice thick with something he didn’t have a name for yet. She nodded, her fingers finding his again. Under the watchful moon, with the cobblestones clicking beneath their steps, they walked — slow and tangled, not quite ready to let the night go. It wasn’t just Paris that was beautiful. It was them — in the softest version of forever, unfolding one heartbeat at a time.

They had just stepped into their hotel suite, the door clicking shut behind them with a soft thud. Lando’s jacket was off and tossed on the back of a chair. She was already reaching up to untwist her hair, letting it fall like silk down her back. Neither said a word at first. There was no rush. No need to fill the quiet. Not after tonight.

Lando just leaned against the wall for a second, watching her. The makeup was smudged at the corners of her eyes now, her lips a little faded, and she was still the most electric thing he’d ever seen. The echo of her voice — her presence — still vibrated somewhere inside him.

“You okay?” she asked softly, catching his gaze.

He let out a slow breath, as if finally exhaling everything he’d held in since the first second she stepped on that stage.

“No,” he said honestly. “You wrecked me.”

She smiled, walking over and setting her shoes by the door. “Lando—��

“You don’t get it,” he cut in, pushing off the wall. “I’ve seen you angry. I’ve seen you tired. I’ve seen you in sweats at home.. I’ve seen you fight for what you want, disappear when things get too loud, light up when you're in your element…” He stepped closer. “But I’ve never seen you like that. On stage. You were—” he shook his head, almost frustrated. “You were magic.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that. Not all of it. He gently took her hand and laced their fingers together. “Come here,” he said, voice low, pulling her toward the balcony.

Outside, the air was cool, a light breeze fluttering the sheer curtains. The city sparkled like it was wearing diamonds. The streets had quieted now, and it felt like they were floating above the world.

She leaned on the railing, arms crossed gently, and Lando came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. They stood like that for a while — skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat — the kind of silence that felt full rather than empty. She turned her head just slightly, and their cheeks brushed.

“You know,” she whispered, “I was nervous.”

Lando’s arms tightened a little around her. “Why?”

“It was your first time seeing me like that. On stage. I didn’t want you to feel like I was… someone else.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You weren’t someone else,” he said, quiet but certain. “You were more of you. All the fire and steel and softness. I just… got to see all of it at once.” She blinked slowly, heart suddenly thudding in a new way.

“You talk like you’re in love with me,” she murmured.

“I am,” he said, no hesitation. “Kinda feel like I have been for a while.”

She turned fully now, her hands resting gently on his chest, his thumbs brushing soft circles against her waist.

There was no dramatic music. No fireworks. Just the city, and their breath, and the way he looked at her like she was it. The whole answer.

“Lando…” she started, but he kissed her before she could finish — slow, tender, like a secret passed between them. When they finally pulled back, her hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, she smiled softly.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

He rested his forehead against hers, laughing under his breath, full of disbelief and something deeper. “You think?”

She grinned, lips brushing his. “Pretty sure. Might need another kiss to confirm.”so he kissed her again — longer this time, hands cradling her face like she was something holy.

They didn’t go back inside for a while. Just stayed there, wrapped in each other, the city below and stars above, suspended in the quiet that only love can hold.

Lando just made a post

@/Lando

❤️ 3.9M 💬 25.1k ➤ 394k

Lando First time seeing her on stage. Might've fallen harder than I already was. still trying to recover

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc bro we told you not to fall in love with a pop star 😭 good luck

@/Landohitsdiff she looked at you ONCE during “Tally” and you handed over your soul AND your credit card

@/jennierubyjane 👀😎

@/lisafromthetrack "still trying to recover" and she hasn't even posted HER pics yet. Rookie mistake

@/BLACKPINKgoesvroom she bobied the stage, bodied you, and still looked good going it 💅 icon

@/(y/n)updates he's whipped. we won

@/formulaladsdaily it's giving "she steps on me and I say thank you" we support it

@/User 1 not this F1 man turning into a groupie 💀 sit down lando

@/landoismyhusbandlol you know what? I ship it. painfully. aggressively. With my whole chest.

@/georgerussell63 Still recovering? Mate, you haven’t spoken in full sentences since her second verse 💀

@/pinkgridcanon I’ve seen ships with less chemistry get full novels. WHERE IS OUR FANFIC 👀

@/thegridshipper I was here for pole positions, now I’m here for soul positions. They’re ENDGAME.

@/Landofangirl444 she's mid, y'all just like her cause she's dating him. no stage presence, just snarky attitude

@/randomrbrfan69 another driver distracted by a pop girl 🙄 focus on the car maybe?

@/mimisleftboot she stomped in those thigh-highs and we all felt it. lando included 😌

@/jisooforpresident he’s living every fanfic writer’s dream and I’m just here eating cereal

@/Rosescreens nah but you looked in love. like…eye-twitching, stomach-flipping love.

@/landoisours we lost him to the sparkle boots and villain eyeliner 💔

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

Hope y'all enjoyed, now I can sleep stress free 😭💕

223 notes · View notes

kathaynesart · 2 years ago

Text

Eugh boy. April what have you started?

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

Sorry for all the exposition. This chapter has a lot of setup. In fact, I plan to split it here since it's been rather long. It will be a new Arc on the master post, though it pretty much starts up where this one leaves off. At least it looks like we'll be having some fun in the next one.

Also, people have been asking what my plans are with Replica, so I thought I would give an idea of what to expect. To be completely transparent I plan to split Replica into 2 Books. Book 1 (which we're about 2/3 through) will focus on setting up the colony, understanding all the characters, what happened in the past, and the drama that ensues from it. Book 2, is going to be where all this setup is going to come into play. Lots more action leading up to the beginning of the movie. I'm super excited for book 2, it's going to involve a particular mission mentioned briefly in the movie and the chain events it causes that will ultimately lead to both their greatest success against the Krang as well as the colony's ultimate downfall. So all this setup is kind of necessary since this is a little more... plot heavy. I am sorry it is in my nature, even though I know we all just want to see sweet/sad scenes of them all hugging it out (we'll get there eventually)! At least we'll get thatsooner in the Cass Apocalypse crossover I'm now working on. Look forward to it and bring your tear ducts!

#rottmnt replica #replica #rottmnt #kathaynesart #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #omega #future april #future bootyyy shaker

4K notes · View notes

otaku553 · 2 years ago

Text

Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)

Here are the originals:

If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!

So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.

Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.

The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.

Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.

Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.

Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)

Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.

And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.

#one piece #spy x family crossover #sabo #monkey d luffy #portgas d ace #crossover #I have so many ideas for this au #I’ll probably write like a drabble series for it #maybe. if I get around to it #extra things:#Loid and sabo get paired on a nonzero number of missions as siblings #they are only 6 years apart in age and they’re both blond so WISE is like.. ‘it’s free real estate’#every time this happens sabo finds a way to sneak into conversations that they’re actually cousins instead #this annoys loid a LOT because he thinks sabo can’t keep a cover to save his life. sabo is aware but he only has 2 brothers #and even in disguise he refuses to let someone else take ace and luffy’s place #ace’s codename within Garden is either ‘flame lily’ or ‘pyracantha’#the latter being another name for the firethorn plant #yor has only heard of him in passing and has not met him in person before. but she knows that she is sent whenever he blunders and lets #someone see his face #Luffy is kind of just chilling! he takes a lot of part time jobs everywhere #to the point that loid is briefly worried that he’s a tail or stalker or something since he keeps seeing luffy around #Anya really loves playing with Luffy though because luffy has such vivid thoughts of the ocean and being a pirate #ok that’s it for now #I am very. brainrotting

2K notes · View notes

decentwritings · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 1

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

next part

The game you were playing was beginning to bore you. The music wasn't even all that and your butt feels sore after sitting on these steps for the last three hours. A couple of drunk teenagers stumble by you again and you can't help but scoff in annoyance.

The extra battery pack you brought was dead and you had about seventeen percent left on your phone. You knew the idea of bringing a backpack was smart, but what was stupid was not bringing an extra charger.

You're stuck here as designated driver for your roommate and her friends. You got the short end of the stick because Anika claims she wants you to get along with her girlfriend. Something about her girlfriend having trust issues with people she doesn't know.

You can't even recall her name.

Miranda? Martha? Melinda?

It starts with an M.

Also, she kicked your ass in ten games of rock-paper-scissors.

The last hour there have been people coming out, not coming in anymore. The costumes were sad this year, and that's coming from someone who doesn't even celebrate. You think you saw one of Anika's friends as a slutty pirate? Maybe it was just a regular pirate; either way, it was lacking creativity.

She is pretty, though.

“Hey!”

You pick your head up, eyebrows connecting at the random outburst. You look around, suddenly aware no one else is sober enough or free to pay attention. So this woman must be calling you out.

And stupidly, you point at yourself and ask, “Me?”

The woman stalks over, and you stand, ready to fight to defend yourself. You lift your fists up but then they fall to your side at the taser in her hand.

“Where's my sister?” She asks, the taser sparks and you can't seem to find an escape with the house pressing against your back.

“I...I don't know,” you stutter, eyes on the taser and watching it move as she speaks.

“Let me through.”

You jump over the ledge and fall into the bushes, allowing the woman entrance to the home. You fall with a thud and groan, spitting leaves out of your mouth in the process. When you stand, the couple making out by the bushes stare at you with a mix of concern and irritation.

“Joker, Black Widow,” you say, stumbling out of the bush with a grunt. “Nice crossover. As you were,” you brush the remaining leaves off your clothes.

You attempt to enter the home, to warn Anika and her friends of some lunatic with a taser. But that same lunatic comes out with Anika and her friends in tow.

Anika tugs you along with her as they stalk out of the property. You groan at the pull, the grip she has on you is causing a pinching pain.

“My car!” you shout, glancing back at your parked car in the distance.

“We'll get it later,” Anika mutters, releasing you a second later.

The lunatic, who you learned is named Sam, shouts after the sister she was looking for, Tara. You follow behind with your shoulders slumped, solemn at the thought of your car parked in a street you don't know.

You're unaware of the group stopping to watch the sisters argue and you continue sulking past them. Hands tucked in your pockets, you kick a rock gently, turning and stopping in your tracks.

You regret ever allowing Anika to convince you to be designated driver. You're going to ask for a change of roommate when you get back.

But it goes to the back of your mind when you overhear someone behind you say, “is that the murderer?”

You raise a brow and look at the voice, tilting your head when you lock eyes with the stranger. And the stranger is throwing something at Sam before you can even comprehend her words.

“Murderer!”

The liquid hits Sam dead on, angering the older woman and unleashing the built up anger she most likely held back during the argument with her sister. Chad has to grab ahold of Sam then Tara to avoid a bigger fight from occurring.

Something in you shouts to get away from these people. It's a loud voice that you know belongs to your parents, who always told you to stay away from the wrong crowd. And maybe, this is what they meant by wrong crowd.

You stay back as they all walk away, just a few feet away from a sad, soaked and tired Sam. You exhale a breath, waiting for Ethan to walk away from his awkward interaction with the older woman. You take off your backpack and unzip it to grab the towel you packed.

While your parents raised you to run from danger, they also taught you manners. You step up to Sam cautiously, extending the towel towards her slowly.

Sam looks between you and the towel. It takes her a minute to decide if she can trust you, or maybe trust the towel. You aren't sure, but you reassure her. "It's better than whatever was on the napkins Ethan gave you," you shrug.

Sam takes the towel, or rather snatches it. She doesn't say anything, and you take that as her silently telling you to leave her alone. You turn and walk the other direction, away from the group. For once, you're listening to your parents' advice.

You decide it's a good night to be away from your roommate. So you head to your cousin's place, knowing his place was just a few blocks away. That way, you could wake up and pick up your car on your way back to your dorm.

You text your cousin to warn him of your presence at his apartment, to avoid interrupting any activities occurring. He texts back informing you he was on his way there, too, to wait for him by the door.

You hear a chuckle to your left a few minutes after arriving to his apartment building. As he gets closer, he points to the name tag on your shirt.

“Dennis?” He asks, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

You shrug. “The party I was at wouldn't let me stay if I didn't have a costume,” you wait patiently for him to unlock the door.

You follow him in, listening to him as he speaks. “And they allowed the fake name tag as a costume?” He asks, closing the door behind you.

You pause at the entrance, freezing when you see Sam at the bottom of the stairwell. You face your cousin with wide eyes. “I'm being followed,” you whisper, eyes filled with panic.

He looks behind you and locks eyes with Sam. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Head on up, I'll meet you there,” he tells you, handing you his keys.

You pause and stare at him like he's crazy, but don't question it, snatching the keys from his hands. You practically sprint past Sam, but pause at the first step to tell your cousin, “she's got a taser, Danny.” you warn him.

Sam glances back at you with narrowed eyes. You scurry off without another word.

You aren't sure how long you wait for your cousin, hoping he's still alive. All you know is, when he does return, you run up to him and immediately ask questions.

“How do you know taser girl?” You ask first, unaware of his worried state. You follow him into his kitchen, questions still flying out of your mouth. “How long have you known taser girl? Did she always live in this building? Why are people calling her a murderer? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?” You ask when you finally notice his state.

Danny leans against the counter. “She's leaving,” he mumbles, as if he is just now realizing this.

You raise a brow. “What?”

Danny looks at you, and he thinks about all the possible outcomes of telling you the truth. Sam may have passed over a little of her skepticism to him. He's found himself questioning everyone's intentions at times, even at the smallest things like when his coworker ask him to pass him the salt one day at lunch.

“Sam is the girl I'm seeing,” Danny finally says, a weight falling off his shoulders after the words come out of his mouth. All you do is raise a brow. “We've been keeping it secret from her sister and her friends...”

“And me apparently,” you mutter.

Danny sends you an apologetic look, then he sighs sadly. “She's leaving,” he says again. “There was a murder of some students at Blackmore, your school.”

You frown. “Lucky bastards,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest childishly.

Danny's expression goes blank, a deadpan look crossing his face. He runs a hand down his face and shakes his head.

“It was a joke,” you say, eyes casting down to avoid his look. “What's the big deal of the murder anyway? It's New York. People die. We move on. It's the circle of life.”

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, your parents really did shield you from the world,” he mutters, huffing a breath afterward. “Do you watch the news? Check the internet–do you even know who Sam Carpenter is?” He asks you after a beat.

You shrug. “Relative of Jesus? I don't know, Danny– can't you just tell me instead of having me guess?” You give up, patience gone along with your interest in his love life.

And so Danny begins to explain, about Sam Carpenter's past. He tells you she's not just anyone—and you think he was going drone on about how amazing she is but no, he tells you she's tied to a dark legacy, one that involves a string of murders that happened in Woodsboro. Sam is the daughter of Billy Loomis, one of the original killers from those infamous Ghostface murders.

You don't watch the news, so he has to explain the Woodsboro murders. He tells you there's movies about it and you remind him you don't watch horror movies. It leads to a long argument of what movie genre is the best–man, ADHD is in everyone in the family.

Your head spins as Danny returns to his explanation. And you try to piece it all together, figuring out the whole relative thing, the murders and the murderers. You decide to suck it up and watch the Stab movies when you get the time.

Right now, you have bigger things to think about. “Wait, you're telling me your girlfriend is related to some psychopath who went on a killing spree? And people think she might be involved in this new murder at Blackmore?”

Danny looks exhausted but nods. “That's why they're calling her a murderer. She's been trying to escape all of this, but it's followed her here.”

You scoff. “Man, you know how to pick 'em,” you laugh gently, going back to the living room to sit on the couch.

Danny follows behind you, glaring.

You sink into the couch, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry. Geez,” you mutter. “So you're dating a woman who might be the next Ghostface? Or worse, the target of another psycho?”

Danny shrugs, taking a seat beside you on the couch, shaking his head. “She's not the killer. I know her. She's just... trying to live a normal life. But people won't let her. You saw what happened tonight.”

You groan and lean back. “Great. Now I'm stuck in the middle of some horror movie drama.”

Danny frowns at that, worry lines deepening on his face. “Listen, just stay out of it, okay?”

“Believe me, I'm trying,” you huff.

“Sam's trying to leave all this behind. She's not dangerous. Just... misunderstood,” Danny defends.

You're quiet for a while, processing. “So, what now? She's leaving, but what about you?”

He shrugs, looking defeated. “I don't know. Maybe it's better this way.”

You let out a long sigh, not sure what to think anymore. Everything seems so absurd, like you've just been pulled into some twisted movie plot. “This better not end with me getting stabbed,” you mutter, half-joking but half-serious.

Danny gives you a tired smile. “I'll make sure it doesn't.” But his tone doesn't inspire much confidence, and you're left wondering just how deep this whole thing goes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you assume it's your mom checking in on you. You had told her of your plans and she was adamant of you not going to the party. You should have listened.

You also shouldn't have picked up the phone.

“Sweet mother,” you answer the phone, grinning at your cousin. He rolls his eyes, but the smile on his lips tells you he found it funny.

You expect an answer but nothing comes. You look at your phone screen and tilt your head at the lack of caller ID on it.

“Hello?” You say, waiting for some kind of response.

“Hello, Dennis,” your eyebrows raise, looking at your cousin. “Welcome to the party. Are you having fun?”

You pause to really think of an honest answer for the question. The voice isn't one you recognize, then again, this person did call you by your fake name; he may not know you either.

“Well, not really,” you reply, shoulders sagging as you continue, “and I'm not Dennis. You either got the wrong number or you assume my name is Dennis 'cause you saw me at the party.”

“Oh but I have the right number,” the voice responds, almost giddily.

“Who is it?” Danny whispers, scooting closer to you.

You wave him off, listening to them continue.

“Your cousin thinks he's so clever, doesn't he?” The voice says, menacingly. “Always two steps ahead. But he'll never see me coming. Neither of you will,” then the line goes dead.

You shake your head when you hear the tone signaling the end of the call. You huff and drop your phone to your lap. Danny waits for you to explain the call.

“Some dude called,” you start, nonchalantly. “Said we're not gonna see him coming.”

Danny's eyes widen, standing to grab his phone in the kitchen. You're lost at his sudden rush and concern, following him slowly. He has his phone pressed to his ear, waiting anxiously for someone to answer.

He slams his phone on the counter a few seconds later. He grabs his keys then turns to you. “Let's go. I need your help.”

He doesn't explain and you stupidly follow him, wondering what exactly he needs help with. When you exit the apartment building, he turns to you, eyes wide, frantic, and filled with worry.

“Can you handle this?”

“Handle what? You haven't explained anything,” you reply, an unsettling feeling growing in your gut. “You're freaking me out, Danny.”

“We have to split up, but don't stop looking over your shoulder,” he grips your shoulders, forcing you to meet his frantic eyes. “These GhostFace fanatics are freaks and you have to watch out for yourself. Can you handle this?”

The look on your cousin's face worries you, but your need to always help him—because he's always helped you, no matter what—makes you decide. You nod, confident and determined. You want your cousin to know he can count on you, just like you can count on him.

Not that you ever expected to chase after a killer to help your girlfriend. You're pretty sure you'd never get in a situation like this. You don't have fight in you; only flight.

But hell, if Danny needs you to search for that inner fight, you'll do it for him.

“You go that way, I'll go this way,” he points to the left then the right. “You knocked me out once when we were younger, think you can do that to a freak in a mask?”

You stare at him blankly. “I was ten and hyped up on sugar,” he sighs, regret crossing his face for bringing you into this. You shake your head, wanting to reassure him. “I got a knife,” you say as you pull out the box cutter your brother gave you for work.

Danny stares at it but doesn't comment. “Be careful,” he says, lifting his phone. “And call when you find them.”

You raise your hand to your forehead, saluting. He sprints off after doing a quick look around your surroundings. You do the same, gripping the box cutter in your hand like a lifeline.

You peek into every alley before passing it, making sure there isn't anyone lurking. You're not exactly sure how far you are from Danny's apartment when you reach the bodega at the corner. You come to a slow stop as several people run screaming out of the store.

“Please be a robbery,” you mutter, summoning the courage to fight instead of run. You bounce on your feet a few times, hyping yourself up before you finally walk up to the bodega's doors.

A bell chimes when you open the door, and the scene before you immediately makes you rethink your bravado.

GhostFace turns with the shotgun pointed at you. You've seen the mask before at stores, and you find it ridiculous that people are using a Halloween costume as a way to kill people.

“Wrong store, I'll come back late—”

You duck just in time to avoid the bullet and crawl toward the closest thing you can find for cover. You've played enough video games to know how to survive someone shooting at you.

You press your back against the shelf, heart pounding as you catch your breath. The bodega aisles stretch out in front of you, offering minimal coverage. You glance at the door–running seems like a bad idea. You could make a run for it, but you know bullets fly faster than you run.

His footsteps echo throughout the bodega, slow and deliberate; like he has all the time in the world. But he can't be stupid, someone must have called 911 by now. Right?

You peek around the shelf, catching a glimpse of the mirror hanging from the ceiling. You watch it to see what direction GhostFace is walking to. You see him step over a body, and you're aware it was cashier who probably tried to play hero.

Then, you see them and you roll your head in annoyance. Danny was not lying. Her past follows her so of course Sam and Tara are here, hiding from the freak in the mask.

“I could be in bed,” you mumble, looking at the shelf you're hiding behind for something to use. “But noooo...the one time you rebel against your parents' wishes, you get stuck in some shitty fanfiction a weirdo is writing,” you grab a can, then a jar of olives.

You glance at the mirror, GhostFace is steps away from discovering Sam and Tara so you don't even acknowledge Sam's attempt to get your attention–you toss the can towards the door. He quickly turns and reacts with shooting a nonexistent figure.

You stand now that his back was turned, lifting your arm to throw the jar at his head. As the jar flies in the air, you whistle to get his attention and timed it well to hit him square in the face. The shotgun falls out of his hands and you shout at the sisters to run.

They don't need to be told twice. Sam grabs Tara's arm, pulling her along as they run out of the store. You can hear sirens in the distance but you keep your eyes on GhostFace, who finally regains his composure. He looks out the bodega's windows and sees the flashing lights, then looks back at you with a look that tells you he is not happy.

He runs away and disappears towards the back, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

Did you just face off with a murderer?

You exit the store with your hands up, not wanting the cops to assume you're a threat. Either way, you're handled roughly by an officer as he grips your hands to cuff.

Sam and Tara appear out of nowhere, pulling you out of the replay of the events that occurred in the store. You blink, feeling the cuffs bite your wrists with a tight pinch.

“Stop, they helped us,” Sam says first, voice firm as she glares at the officer. Tara doesn't wait long to support her statement.

“Helped how?” The officer asks, eyeing you and now them suspiciously. Still, he doesn't even loosen his grip on your wrists.

“New York's finest,” you mumble with a head shake. You grimace when his grips tightens. “Oww,” you drawl out.

“They distracted GhostFace long enough for us to get out,” Tara adds, sending you a warning glare to keep your mouth shut. You duck your head, pursing your lips into a thin line. “If it weren't for them, we wouldn't have gotten out,” she jumps to your defense again.

The officer eyes you all, eyes squinting as he stares. He grunts then, “wait here.”

“Am I under arrest?” You asks as he walks away. You groan at his lack of response.

You tap your foot, aware of the presence of the sisters. You can feel the tension from the Carpenters without even looking at them. The last time you were alone with Sam, you ended up in a bush. Last time you saw Tara, she was wearing a pirate costume and laughing about it. Now, here you are. Life, huh?

“Nice night,” you mumble, because apparently, you never learn when to keep your mouth shut.

Both sisters look at you, deadpan. If looks could slap, you'd be on the ground. You shut up, but only for a second, because now Danny comes running up, and you know this is going to be great.

“Oh god, what did you do?” Danny hisses, eyes darting between you and the sisters.

“Saved your girlfriend,” you snarl, feeling deeply insulted that he automatically assumes you did something stupid. Danny freezes, eyes widening in horror at the worst-kept secret in the room.

You walk up to the officer as makes his way over to you. “Please say I'm under arrest,” you practically plead, wanting to escape from this reality.

The officer shakes his head, signaling for you to turn around. You do as you're told, feeling him unlock the cuffs from around your wrists. The stares from the three of them make you shift uncomfortably, keeping your head down until you're able to feel your wrists, holding them against your chest to soothe the ache.

Tara snaps her neck towards her sister, her gaze sharp. “Girlfriend?” she asks, voice icy.

Sam winces, like she knew this was coming. “Not now, Tara,” she nods in the direction a detective walking over to them.

The man smiles crookedly, stepping up to them almost awkwardly. “Care to explain?” He starts, then looks between you and Danny. “I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm detective Bailey.”

“Danny,” your cousin introduces himself, crossing his arms over his chest. There's a tension between them and he feels it thickening with each second passing.

Bailey turns to you. You tap on the fake name tag still on your shirt. “Dennis,” you lie, earning yourself an elbow to your side. You glare at Danny before returning to look at the detective. “Y/N,” you mumble, huffing.

Bailey nods, then sighs as his gaze returns to the Carpenter sisters. “I think you know what I'm going to say,” he says.

Sam nods, arms crossed over her chest defensively. “Let's go then,” she makes her way to the car the detective came in, her sister following.

Danny does the same but you, however, don't move. You didn't sign up for whatever this is. This is your chance to finally step away from this situation. Then, like they all practiced, they turn back to look at you.

“I'm fine here,” you say dismissively. “I appreciate the invite though–”

“Get in the car,” Danny orders with a glare, pointing to the vehicle.

You didn't plan to, you really didn't. But when you look at Tara–when Tara looks back at you, her expression shifting from anger to something softer—vulnerability, maybe. For a second, she's not the girl who just stared down a serial killer; she's just... someone who doesn't want to be alone.

That gets you. You barely know the girl but those eyes draw you in. Screw you and your inability to walk away from a pretty girl. You shuffle toward the car, muttering under your breath several complaints.

You squish in the back seat, Tara seated between you and Sam. The drive to the police station drives by the house the whole night started at. You frown at the sight of your car, lonesome and abandoned.

You sigh dramatically, your mind suddenly reminding you of the one thing that truly matters. “Ahh, fuck,” you groan, earning immediate side-eyes from everyone in the car. “I've got a paper due at midnight.”

Danny turns, his expression a perfect blend of exhaustion and disbelief. “Stop talking.”

And for once, you do.

As you approach the police station, the lights flickering in the night like a beacon of both hope and uncertainty, you realize that whatever happens next, you're not alone. You might be just a regular person caught in a slasher film, but now you're part of something bigger. You were here for Danny, and were further dragged in by Tara's doe eyes, and maybe—just maybe—this wild ride will lead to something unexpected. Hell, this may turn out for a good final senior thesis.

You take a deep breath, feeling that flicker of determination ignite within you. No matter how this night ends, you won't let fear hold you back. After all, survival is a team sport, and you're ready to play.

The car rolls to a stop, and as you all step out into the bright lights of the police station, you can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of a very messy adventure. But at least you'll face it with someone.

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega x reader #the unwitting hero

276 notes · View notes