#it's just what i need to see more of. in media

[no-144444]

playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

part one | part two | part three | part four |

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It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car. 

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed. 

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-” 

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded. 

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away. 

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of  ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again. 

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. 

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1. 

And you’d just fucked it up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you. 

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted. 

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was. 

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11. 

Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!” 

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back. 

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there. 

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.” 

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head. 

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie. 

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his. 

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks. 

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space. 

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control. 

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer. 

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?” 

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room. 

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion. 

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.” 

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. 

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone. 

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of  Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?” 

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed. 

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you.  You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone. 

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar. 

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc. 

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you. 

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[decoy-sammy]

-Mm, future Dec here..--Okkayy... That went a bit too long, sorrrry..........😓 Anyways, kinda all recent developments that I could think about in 1 in the morning... Didn't even scratch the surface of shit that's happening tbh. It's literal hell.

-Also this may definetely be discomforting(that word?) to lot so you ain't gotta reply. No worries.👍 Just couldn't hold myself tbh, lmfao.

Ehh.... We kinda got one of da worst inflations ever, our countries eating itself, the people in charge are doing nothing but cause pain,(also the presidents sued lotsa 14 year olds just because they called him an asshole in personal group chats that got leaked by their parents, I'm not even joking.), if there's a person in charge in your family.. Who gives a shit about laws or anything?? You know what? We know damnn well that you didn't even manage to get a 1 in that school test but let's give you a 100 because your familys wealthy! Oh shit, you know 6 different languages, actually managed to get the best grades in the whole country, know what you need to do and ready to do it for your job? Yeahhh, actually you're homeless now. Go work in a farm where you can't even make 5 TL you bozo. Oh, the school stuffs getting too hard and expectations are too FUCKING High that students and children got nothing better to do other than COMMIT LITERAL SUICIDE? HAHA YEAH. WE DON'T CARE ACTUALLY. ANYWAYS. LET'S GET EVEN MORE IMMIGRANTS IN HERE EVEN THOUGH THERE ARE MORE OF THEM THAN TÜRKS NOWADAYS TO FUCK UP THE ECONOMY EVEN MORE AND SEND PEOPLE HOMELESS AND LOSE OUR OWN DAMN CULTURE BECAUSE WE CAN'T DO ANYTHING. HUH?. HELL YEAH. ALSO EVERYTHING'S RUN ON RELIGION NOW. CHRISTIANITY? JUDAISM? NAHH, WE ONLY GOT ISLAM. IF YOU AIN'T MUSLIM WE WILL LITERALLY KILL YOU. AND ALL THOSE IMAM S AND MUSLIM PEOPLE AT CHARGE? THEY'RE ACTUALLY PEDOPHILE RAPISTS.BUT WE'RE GONNA KEEP THEM IN CHARGE BECAUSE THEY BELIEVE IN ALLAH AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS. WOMEN AND CHILDREN ARE ASSAULTED DAILY? WHO CARES?? OH YOU'RE LITERALLY_ANY FORM OF LGBTQ_? YOU'RE MENTALLY ILL. SORRY. WE DON'T MAKE THE RULES. OH WAIT, WE DO. AH. IT SEEMS THAT IN CHILDREN'S GAMES /ROBLOX/ YOU CAN MAKE YOUR CHARACTER SAME TAN TONE. OH NOO! THAT MEANS THEY'RE HAVING "NAKED PORN PARTYS"!! WE MUST BAN IT! LET'S DO THE SAME WITH ALL OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHILE WE'RE AT IT ACTUALLY. HMM. PEOPLE CAN'T AFFORD TO LIVE ANYMORE? LET'S JUST GET RID OF THEM I DUNNO. OH SHIT. I'M THE PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE THAT HAS BEEN RIGGING SHIT IN HIS FAVOR AND GOING AGAINST THE FUCKING LAW THAT KEEPS CONTIUNIOSLY GETTING HIS JOB BACK AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA VOTE FOR ME? I WILL LITERALLY KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YLU.(THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED ON MY BDAY SINCE THAT'S WHEN THE VOTING WAS. YOU GOT NO IDEA HOW SCARED I WAS OF LIVING IN THE CAPITAL FOR ONCE LMFAO.), AH. OUR PEOPLE IN HATAY ARE DYING BECAUSE OF ONE OF THE WORST NATURAL DISASTERS(7.6 EARTHQUAKE. NEAR HALF OF THE CITY GOT TOTALLED FROM WHAT I SAW..) TO EVER HIT TÜRKİYE???? WELL. THEY DIDN'T VOTE FOR ME, DID THEY? JUST LEAVE THEM TO DIE. AND NO. WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT SO THAT THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO GET HELP. AT ALL.(MY AUNT AND COUSINS LIVE THERE SO I GOT TO SEE THE CARNAGE FOR MYSELF WHEN WE MANAGED TO VISIT THEM. THERE ARE STILL DEAD BODIES UNDER BUILDINGS AND SHIT. IT WAS AWFUL..)

lien

[housepartyprotocol]

Teammates

Oscar Piastri x teammate!reader

summary: Oscar and his teammate have a close hilarious relationship

Masterlist / TipJar

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lewishamilton and 2,109,851 others

ynusername Photo of oscar accurately describes how I feel going into my home gp

view all 10,293 comments

oscarpiastri how do you always find the worst photos of me

ynusername i take them bb oscarpiastri oh my god user best teamates on the grid

user if only the mclaren car was better for them

user i think mclaren should be more worried about yn's insane internet presence ynusername omg no..... dont tell them mclaren you are mistaken we live for this

lewishamilton home race !

georgerussell silverstone ! ynusername Brit squad assemble ! landonorris here we come !

user YN is my favourite driver by a landslide

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 1,992,938 others

ynusername he may've been schooled in this country but he is in desperate need of an education on pure culture

view all 41,291 comments

user I love the fact the minute she is not racing she has the craziest nails

user are they acrylics ynusername they are press ons, easy on easy off ynusername easy way to be hot

oscarpiastri I love that these are the photos you post, you're education was not coffee shops and bookshops

ynusername what nope it was very mundane oscarpiastri nothing with you is mundane user shots fired user petition for yn to release the other photos landonorris petition signed alexalbon petition signed

lewishamilton the most cultured driver crown might be passed down soon

ynpiastri omg can you knight me too lewishamilton i wish! user the crown needs to be passed on now

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 802,439 others

oscarpiastri Just shy of a podium but got to witness the united kingdoms honorary princess on a podium. (also its not her birthday, her birthday is in 8 months)

view all 99,204 comments

user its always her birthday!

user always !! ynusername it is! oscarpiastri I am not getting you gifts everyday user he gets her birthday gifts..

ynusername mclaren domination in the foreseeable future

oscarpiastri so soon user i love them user they should date

f1fanupdates

liked by 3,420 users

f1fanupdates For the uneducated and borderline uncultured, meet the McLaren cuties. Teammates YN LN and Oscar Piastri channel the Gen Z unmedia-trained craziness. Having known each other from F3 days, their social media makes McLaren admins have heart attacks. Both having wins under their belt, it makes them a very strong team, a force. Would I be lying if I said they would be cute together...

view all 198 comments

user I love them, they are my parents, together or not

user they are iconic I hope they never get trained

user they are the hottest drivers, McLaren slayed with this pairing

user preach

user I already thought they were dating

user no they are just friendly user I bet there are underlying feelings

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, landonorris, and 2,202,420 others

ynusername checking out the opposition. checking OUT the opposition

view all 70,436 others

user she is unhinged

user she is iconic

user is she dating lewis

user nah lewis is married user since when?!?

oscarpiastri don't you dare jump ship

ynusername can't promise anything pooks oscarpiastri you better mclaren you better ynusername till death does us part x

lewishamilton you are not smart with this caption

ynusername innocent until proven guilty lewishamilton you are baiting him user WHO, LEWIS TELL US user OMgggg drama

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, lewishamilton, landonorris and 892,104 others

oscarpiastri pov we were meant to be at the technology centre at 9. One of us was

view 67,241 comments

ynusername nooo youve made me look bad, it was traffic

oscarpiastri So, thats not an ice cold coffee in the selfie you sent me ynusername no one was meant to see that oscapiastri nothing you send me is safe sweetheart ynusername I ... okay user omg is she lost for words

user thats possible??

user omg they sent each other photos

user thats not a crazy thing user just let me believe they have feelings

mclaren ohhhh thats why you were late

ynusername no not at all mother mclaren mother is disappointed oscarpiastri what is happening? mclaren its okay son oscarpiastri oh hell naw we are not siblings user hes not helping the rumours

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, mclaren, and 2,579,546 others

ynusername A visual representation of me trying to soft launch a relationship

view all 278,543 comments

oscarpiastri is this why you have been screaming/wheezing in your drivers room for the last 30 mins

user omg she is just like the rest of us oscarpiastri shes been in tears screaming 'why do i have none without his face!!' ynusername you are out of line Piastri oscarpiastri wow, not the surname

lewishamilton very very accurate

ynusername huh lewishamilton we are going to talk soon ynusername @ anyone HELP ME oscarpiastri nothing can help you now

user okay so who do we think it is

user oscar user oscar user oscar user ah so a universal thought

f1fanupdates

liked by 8,250 users

f1fanupdates It has been five months since this soft launching started! We are almost in Abu Dhabi, and YN is still just teasing her partner. We all think it is Oscar, but it is still unknown. No matter who it is though, they look good together

view all 942 comments

user OSCARRRRR

user Imagine it is not oscar and it is some poor guy and now he's upset

user oh user thats a good point

user OscarYN for life

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, lewishamilton, landonorris, and 1,240,567 others

oscarpiastri Hoping on the soft launching YN's relationship train

view all 82,459 comments

ynusername wow, thats my next post ruined

lewishamilton for the love of all that is good, just post him ynusername booo oscarpiastri no booo its getting boring ynusername you think that, really.. ? oscarpiastri i do yn girl

user this is hilarious

user i thought this was an YN post at first user same! user oscar is getting sick of it lol

mclaren There were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded

user not mclaren quoting princess Diana user wouldn't it be four, mclaren, oscar, yn, yns partner user i think you are delusional user i think they are right user mclaren outing there relationship...

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 2,520,636 others

ynusername my man my man my maaaan

view all 97,577 comments

user its officalllll guys

user im so happy i was right user they look amazing together user hot couple

oscarpiastri finally a hard launch pookie

oscarpiastri was wondering when you would do it ynusername i was teeing it up lewishamilton its been a good 8 months of you two sneaking around the paddock landonorris we all knew maxverstappen i walked in on them making out fully behind the mclaren hospitatility alexalbon we all did that day, it was basically public information

mclaren our evil plan finally worked

ynusername your what... oscarpiastri your what... mclaren nothing, doors sometimes just lock on accident user not mclaren admin confessing to playing cupid mclaren not just me, everyone, Zak once hid YN's car keys so Oscar had to drive her home ynusername WHAT OMG I FEEL BETRAYED

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, ynusername, landonorris, and 1,924,250 others

oscarpiastri HR approved of photos 1 and 2 of my girlfriend

view all 45,266 others

user goddamm

ynusername OSCAR

oscarpiastri hey georgus ynusername georgus? oscarpiastri thats you landonorris you guys make me sickkk ynusername love you toooo oscarpiastri hey... ynusername x

mclaren we do not approve of the 3rd

oscarpiastri I do not want another HR meeting ynusername THIS ONE WASN'T MY FAULT! DON'T MAKE ME SIT THROUGH ANOTHER user what happened last time.. mclaren setting work place phyiscal intimacy boundaries ynusername Oscar is not a good influence on me oscarpiastri you aren't a good influence on anyone love

user I love these two so much

user best teammates on the grid

user the next brocedes ynusername we arent having a dramatic public break up lewishamilton oh

[vibeswithdivs]

He’s more patient than he looks

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

The hum of conversation filled the Red Bull Racing headquarters as employees bustled about with an energy that was almost infectious. Engineers huddled over laptops, mechanics leaned against tool racks with grease-streaked hands, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air. It was a world that thrummed with purpose, speed, and precision—qualities that the newcomer sitting at her desk felt slightly out of sync with.

You can do this, she told herself for the hundredth time that day.

Being a social media manager for one of the most prominent teams in Formula 1 was a dream job. Yet, as she stared at the screen, where a half-finished tweet about race day statistics blinked back at her, that dream felt a lot more like a free-fall. She wasn’t just crafting posts about breakfast specials or gym memberships anymore—she was managing the online presence of an entire racing empire.

And, truthfully, she was floundering.

“Morning!”

The cheerful voice made her jump, and she turned to see her colleague, Sophie, leaning over her cubicle wall with a grin. “How’s the newbie settling in?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh… good!” she replied quickly, pasting on a smile that she hoped masked her nerves.

Sophie tilted her head, unconvinced. “You’ve been staring at that screen for an hour, and the only thing you’ve posted today is a retweet from Pirelli. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I don’t even know what half these terms mean. DRS, power unit, undercut… it’s like everyone here is speaking a different language.”

Sophie’s face softened. “It is a different language,” she said with a chuckle. “Give it time. It’s only your first week. You’ll get the hang of it. And if you’re still lost, you’ve got plenty of people to ask.”

“Like who?”

“Like me,” Sophie said with a wink. “Or, if you’re feeling brave, you could ask the drivers. Max and Checo are usually good sports about answering questions.”

“Right,” she said, laughing nervously. “Because it’s totally normal to walk up to Max Verstappen and ask him to explain tire degradation.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sophie replied with a grin. “He’s more patient than he looks.”

She didn’t expect to test Sophie’s theory quite so soon. Later that afternoon, while she was setting up her phone to record a behind-the-scenes video in the garage, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Need help?”

She turned, almost dropping her phone when she saw Max Verstappen standing there, dressed in his Red Bull team kit and holding a bottle of water. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity, and his expression was disarmingly friendly.

“Uh… no! I mean, yes. Maybe?” she stammered, fumbling with the tripod. “Sorry, I’m still figuring all this out.”

Max chuckled, setting his water down on a nearby workbench. “Don’t worry about it. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m supposed to get some footage of the engineers prepping your car, but I can’t get the angle right, and—” She broke off, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s my first week. I’m still getting the hang of everything.”

“You’re doing fine,” Max said, his tone reassuring as he stepped closer. “Here, let me see.”

She handed him the phone, watching as he adjusted the tripod with practiced ease. He crouched slightly, angling the camera until it perfectly captured the scene in the garage.

“Like this?” he asked, stepping back to let her check.

She stared at the screen in amazement. “That’s… perfect. How did you do that so quickly?”

“Years of media obligations,” he said with a shrug. “You pick up a thing or two.”

She smiled, feeling some of her nervousness ebb away. “Thanks, Max.”

“No problem,” he replied, picking up his water bottle. “And if you ever need help with anything else—questions, technical stuff, whatever—just ask. It’s better than guessing.”

Max wasn’t kidding. Over the next few weeks, she found herself turning to him more often than she expected, and he answered every question with surprising patience.

“What’s a DRS zone?” she asked one afternoon during a lunch break.

“It’s where we can open the rear wing to go faster,” Max explained, demonstrating with his hands. “But only in certain areas and under certain conditions. You know, to make overtaking easier.”

“And what’s an undercut?” she asked the next day while filming a promo video in the paddock.

Max smirked. “That’s when you pit earlier than the car ahead of you to get fresher tires and gain track position. But timing is everything. If you mess it up, it doesn’t work.”

“Right,” she said, nodding along even though she still felt a bit lost.

Max seemed to notice her confusion because he added, “It’s like beating someone to the front of the line at a concert by taking a shortcut. Make sense?”

“Ahh,” she said, grinning. “That actually helps.”

With Max’s encouragement, her confidence grew. She started experimenting with different content ideas, from quirky Instagram stories to polished YouTube vlogs. Her colleagues noticed the change, offering praise and feedback that bolstered her even further.

But it was Max’s quiet support that made the biggest difference. He never made her feel stupid for asking questions or stumbling over her words, and his humor often turned stressful moments into something lighter.

One evening, as she sat in the media center editing a race weekend highlight reel, Max walked by and paused to watch over her shoulder.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding at the screen.

“‘Not bad’?” she repeated, turning to him with a mock glare.

He grinned. “Okay, fine. It’s great. But you missed the part where I overtook Checo in Turn 3. That was the best move of the race.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ll add it to the blooper reel.”

“Bloopers?” he said, pretending to look offended. “That was pure talent.”

She shook her head, unable to suppress her smile. “You’re impossible, Verstappen.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” he said, his tone softening. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

By the time the season reached its midpoint, she felt like she’d finally found her footing. The fast-paced world of Formula 1 no longer felt overwhelming; instead, it felt exhilarating.

One evening, after a particularly successful social media campaign, she found herself standing on the balcony of the team’s hospitality unit, watching the sun set over the paddock. Max joined her a few minutes later, leaning against the railing with a relaxed smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Always,” she replied with a chuckle. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“I’d say you’re more than getting the hang of it,” Max said. “You’ve been killing it lately. Everyone’s noticed.”

She glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve made this job your own. You’ve brought something new to the team. It’s good.”

Her chest swelled with gratitude, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thanks, Max. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve survived my first month without you.”

He chuckled, reaching out to nudge her shoulder playfully. “Anytime. You’re part of the team now, and we take care of our own. Even if you still ask a million questions.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Get used to it, Verstappen. I’ve got plenty more where those came from.”

Max smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Bring it on.”

[iasirene]

TW: Sexual assault

Some of yall need to learn how to engage critically with media. There’s some artists getting a lot of hate within the mouthwashing fandom for drawing AU’s where Anya keeps the baby. While I can completely understand not liking this ending (I don’t personally like it either), this is something that is very complex and should be treated with understanding. The whole point of Anya’s story is that she doesn’t have choice, it is taken from her. Throughout the game she is constantly berated by Jimmy and not taken seriously. Curly didn’t do enough to protect her and now Anya has to take care of him while Jimmy is getting more and more delusional and dangerous. She’s stuck. Victims of sexual assault are often shamed for not behaving “appropriately”- or not aligning with the predisposed stereotypes people have in their minds. There are victims of SA who choose to keep their children, and their reasons are their own, and purely their own. It is not up to anybody to project their own beliefs on a person that makes that choice for themselves, same with choosing not to keep a child. We don’t know what Anya would have done, we see her only through the eyes of her abuser and the man who didn’t do enough. I don’t think people are “bad” for wanting to explore if Anya kept her baby- same as I don’t think people are “bad” for wanting her to abort it. If yall don’t like something u see, just block the person and move on.

[rambles-on-dragon-age]

The Veil Jumpers were founded by the Dalish but the Dalish aren't their only members. Did you skim past the literal intro to the Veil Jumpers when you were making your character? Arlathan Forest is riddled with reality warping magic and it's incredibly dangerous. They know it's incredibly dangerous and they risk their lives being there and exploring. There are still deeply mistrustful Dalish clans in the area re: the ones being massacred by the Evanuris that escaped that they're trying to help, that's just not the faction we meet. And if you forget, it is crawling with Tevinter Agents (the Venatori) as we have to fight them constantly.

I suggest you play the intro again because they don't meet Bellara and then walk into the bubble; they have already been in the bubble by time they meet Bellara. That's why her intro speech includes "hey, would love to go back with you to Veil Jumper camp, but we can't leave the bubble. Can walk in, cannot walk out. We are stuck." You comment on the funny fog you're walking through before you find her which is the "shell" of the bubble. You are already trapped in there with her, the resident expert, and probably only person that can free you. She has the upper hand in every respect and she knows it; she's just also, as a character, very open and curious and trusting through the rest of the game. You think it would be "more interesting" for her to act out of character and like she's still in a Dalish clan and doesn't like anyone she meets. You're projecting your personal desires at a character and situation that doesn't fit them. That's not the writer's fault, that's on you that you think all Dalish need to act the same. Then again, that gives you purchase to write all the fic you want to rewrite the scenes for your enjoyment.

Also, what proof would they give that they're from the Veil Jumpers besides the inside knowledge that Strife sent them (the name of their leader) because she's the best at elven magic (she is)? That stuff's probably not things that a massacring Venatori crew much cares about. Like what, a lil note from Strife that says "They're not evil." "Hey they're cool." "Trust me bro." or like a hall pass/badge that they give to their newest outsider friends? Arlathan forest has been long picked through of the best stuff and treasure hunters; what's left is incredibly dangerous and the Tevinter gits that try to steal it usually die in the process. Being a Veil Jumper is dangerous after all and the forest doing things it shouldn't is why the Veil Jumpers were founded.

And yes, you are missing the context. 10 years of in-world context apparently. Dragon Age is a mixed media franchise. There's an anthology of short stories, Tevinter Nights, that set up some of the factions and some of our companions and NPC friends and a four volume comic series, The Missing Collection, that details some of Varric and Harding's adventures before picking up Rook (that they picked up cause The Missing makes it obvious that Solas knows them too well and they need a new person that would throw him for a loop). You don't even have to buy them if you can't, you can find where people reupload them for free and share the download link. You can also read the wiki page and get a quick synopsis of each story instead if that's too much work. It'll give you a pretty good idea of the big themes and actions, though you'll miss the good little details. Dragon Age has never contained all of the story in the games. (see, setting up Celene and Briala and meeting Felassan in The Masked Empire or the fact that it's Fiona that's Alistair's mom and Duncan's old friend in The Calling.) Ruins of Reality (free as part of the Dragon Age Day celebration) shows Strife and Irelin getting involved with some of that dangerous awakening magic in Arlathan forest and can be safely viewed as a precursor to why they founded the Veil Jumpers. Between that short story and The Missing is when the group is founded.

But skipping all of that, we learned at the end of Trespasser that Solas was out in the world and has spent 10 years freeing slaves and spreading the news of his self and what he's working towards. He tells the Inquisitor much of the same information he's going to share with others when they catch up to him at the end of the game. Strife and Irelin are the ones that tell you the Evanuris were bad news when you meet them (Rook: OH joy I thought Solas was lying); safe to say, that means it's more likely to be common knowledge now between Solas and Morrigan running around then not. Bellara felt the fuckening happening with the Veil and the magic all starting back up again; it's an easy to accept explanation that that fuckening and the sky getting all weird a few days ago was Solas's ritual that went wrong and the gods busting out of their prison. Gods that they already know are bad news.

You're upset that the faction that welcomes anyone into their ranks with a common goal isn't acting like a Dalish clan when they are not a Dalish clan. It's not shallow writing, it's you getting an idea in your head of how you wanted their meeting to be and then calling it shallow writing.

We do, actually, see slavery in the slavery capital. Even though Neve tells us to our face in no uncertain terms that we are in the poorest part of the city and people here can't afford to have slaves. We walk through multiple homeless camps. There are people in cages and chains down by the docks. You have a mission to kill mercenaries capturing people to sell as slaves. You need to clean up the Blight in that tunnel under the Shadow Dragon hideout because that's a path they use to get slaves out of the city. There's notes about their other escape paths crumbling and needing work so they can keep going. "There's no slavery in Minrathous!!" you walked into a closet and asked why there's no toilet in this bathroom. There was slavery in Minrathous; they just didn't take us to the rich part of town and rub our faces in it to make sure people wouldn't miss it.

The Crows are putting on their best face to their new ally cause they would really really like help with their occupation problem. Crow!Rook and Lucanis have banters about how deadly and grueling and cruel their training was. Lucanis is the last of his family because of infighting slaughtering the rest. Illario straight sold him out to a blood mage, kills that blood mage before she can snitch, and then sells out the other crows and kidnaps/fakes the murder of his grandmother just because he wants to be first crow. There's more, I'm just not hunting it down. Someone else already compiled a post about all the banters showing the Crows are still a bloody problem. Again, the game didn't rub our faces in it so it's magically not there? It's there, it's just not in the limelight right now because of the whole "escaped gods trying to destroy the world" thing happening.

The factions themselves don't even interact until the final battle and only if you've helped them all. And things are kind of cut to the bone by then; it's do or die on a global scale. The cultural conflict does happen between your hired coworkers though. It's mostly in banter so you have to take the time to get to it (like most of the best details in these games tbh) but again not rubbing our faces in it doesn't mean it wasn't in the game.

Not everyone is super devout to their religion in real life either; we are in the North of Thedas instead of the South. Dorian never seemed as religious as the others, either. In fact he thinks they're going to think he's influencing you in terrible ways Inquisitor. Tevinter has never sounded as religious as the South seems and the South is where we've been. (Exluding Kirkwall, but they are operating like the Southern Chantry so it's safe to lump them in with Southern Chantry Behaviors.) How do you expect the writers to shoehorn the Black Divine into the game? Like, where would it have been appropriate? What would the Black Divine have to do with the little people and back alley factions we're working with here outside the Mourn Watch? Tevinter has long established that their Chantry is basically a figurehead and that the Magisterium is the ones that have the real power and do all the actual "work". We don't have any devout Chantry employed people like we have in past games, either, for them to bring it up and talk about it. *EDITING TO ADD A CORRECTION* It's no longer kind of hinted by conversations and codex entries, The Viper/Ashur is the Black Divine. We literally met the Black Divine and didn't even know it because they don't advertise it. Makes sense cause like if that's common knowledge then he'd probably be assassinated. But this man literally looked at the Magisterium, realized it was failing the people, and started an organization with one he could trust after they were stripped of their title to take direct action. Why couldn't he just give orders and do that as the Divine? Because as Divine he doesn't have political power here. Like. It was right there. He is actively among the little people as himself because his political self as Divine was powerless.

How would you expect them to arbitrarily shove in and retread the exact same stuff for a fourth time? EA set them up for an impossible task, repeatedly hamstrung them and their team, and they still produced a good game.

It felt shallow to you but it also sounds like you barely scratched the surface and didn't really bother taking the time to thoroughly explore what the game offered because you were so offended it wasn't what you, personally, wanted out of it. Which is fine, just say it's a bad game. But absolutely flying past what the game does have while you insist it doesn't have those very things?

a really cool part about dragon age veilguard is the first scene where you meet bellara, especially if you're a shadowdragon mage and you have neve with you

so to set the scene: bellara, the dalish elf who's devoted her life to the conservation, discovery and protection of her people's lost and ancient history, meets two strangers, two tevinter mages, in sacred arlathan. They tell her, hey your gods are back in the world but also they suck and we gotta kill them, and instead of telling them "fuck off you vile enslaving shem, you defile this land with your presence" like most normal dalish, not only does she instantly believe them that her gods are bad for some reason, they're back among the people and need to be stopped, she also happily starts telling them all kinds of secrets and valuable knowledge about ancient elven magic and is even so kind to, without question, take them on a grand tour of this very historically important and sacred ruin in arlathan to find a truly priceless artifact, a one of a kind archive of ancient elven knowledge thought lost forever, because really, what could these unknown tevinter mages possible want with that!

...

are these writers smoking crack?? is that it? theyre smoking crack??

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm going to be starting my advent drabbles for December today so enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You moan at the firm swirl of fingertips against your temples. Lloyd’s hands are so big and warm that they soothe the virulent pulsing, just enough. Your toes curl and you push your skull into his grasp as you sink into the bed. 

“See, Pixie, not too bad, huh?” He purrs. You groan. He needs to just shut up. “I’ve been told I have very skilled hands, you know?” 

“Lloyd, please,” you mutter. 

“Please what? You want more?” He taunts and rocks his hips so his crotch rubs against your stomach. 

You try to shake your head but can’t in his grip. You swat his knee and grumble, “not that.” 

“Ah, come on, pixie, I can be quick but efficient,” grazes his nails over your scalp and you shudder at the cool sensation it sends through your hot skull. “You got goosebumps. I’m getting you there.” 

“No...” you murmur. 

“Mmm, yes. You don’t gotta do nothing. I’ll lick you like popsicle and you’ll melt--’ 

You flick your eyes open as a twinge pinches in your core. That’s not because of him. It’s just your biology responding to the physical stimulation. A dollar store massage pad could do the same thing. You grab his wrists and narrow your eyes. 

“Stop. I’m too tired and miserable--” you whimper at the effort it takes to speak, “to keep arguing with you.” 

“So don’t. Just let daddy Lloyd take over, baby cakes.” 

“Daddy Lloyd?” You hiss and wince at the rattle in your skull. “You’re disgusting.” 

“And you’re just like jelly in my hands. How about this, pixie dust, you just try to stop me. I think that will be fun.” He slackens his hold on your head and caresses your cheeks. Another shiver rolls over you. 

Your hands brush over his as he glides past easily. He tickles your neck and you squirm as he moves back slightly. He walks his fingers along your shoulders then grips them tightly, pushing his thumbs into your muscles. You nearly choke as you feel the tension dislodge as he kneads. 

You put your hand on his stomach and let out a wispy noise. Oh. No. It’s not that good. Oh but it is. 

“See, baby, just a toy for good boy Lloyd,” he slithers. 

You take and breath and curl your fingertips in the muscles of his torso. You’re no virgin, not some untouched nun, but it’s been as while and the feel of warm flesh plucks something deep in you. That tugging is just as much an adversary as the man who has you pinned to the bed. 

Lloyd’s fingertips continue to rub, and roll, and raze your skin. He shifts his hands along your chest and drags them over the rise of your tits. He gropes you through your bra. You bare your teeth and latch onto his middle fingers as you try to peel him away. 

“No, Lloyd--” 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you. 

He raises himself slightly on his knees and slips his hands away from your doughy flesh. He puts his elbows on either side of you, using them to support his weight as he spreads himself over you. Panic swells as you’re trapped under his tall figure. He slips his hands free and frames your sides instead, dipping his head down to bury between your cleavage. 

“Nope!” Your adrenaline spikes, and the yelp reverberates in your head like the clang of a bell. “Lloyd, no! You’re not—Ayeeeee.” 

He bites into the meat of your tit and you hit the top his head. He doesn’t react, only sinking his teeth deeper with a growl. You grab the longer strands of his hair and yank meanly. He grunts and recoils, leaving a throbbing imprint on you. 

“Ow! Don’t fuck with my hair, Pix--” 

“I’m telling you to stop--” You push yourself up on one elbow. 

“You’re moaning like a neglected housewife while you’re doing it. It’s a bit confusing--” 

“Is the word no that unclear to—you,” you put your hand to your forehead at the tick above your eye. You grit your teeth and snarl. 

“I’m trying to help you. Can’t you see that?” He shoves you back down. “I’m not going to put it in, promise. I just want a taste of the pixie pie--” 

He moves back to kneel between your legs. As he grips your hips and holds you down, your anger overwhelms that worrying tingle in your thighs. He bends as his fingertips curl under your panties and you bring your knee up into his ribcage. 

He coughs and pushes himself away. He touches his side and hisses, “Goddamnit.” 

“My head’s about to split and you’re trying to--” you gulp back the words as your cloudy dismay clears to horror. What was he going to do? How far was he going to go? 

“Babe, my balls are about to split open,” he whines. “I was only going to be nice. Get you a little O before the big flight.” 

You stare at him. Who the hell is this man? This isn’t Mr. Hansen and his curt emails and short commands. This isn’t the man who wanted his coffee with a single cream and his daily calendar colour coded. This is an animal. 

Ugh, you knew better than to blur the line of personal and professional. Too bad, he doesn’t. Two million dollars. That little chant is not as encouraging the further you get into this, especially as you realise, this is only the beginning. 

“Come on, baby, we can do it all over the clothes--” 

“Get away from me,” you sit up with a huff, your whole body rebelling at the effort. “I have enough to worry about without you all over me.” 

“Aw, please,” his eyes fall to your chest and flicker. You look down and sigh, one of your nipples peeking out above the bra cup. You fix it and shove him again. “Even the girls are tryna get out--” 

“Sleep on the floor,” you sneer as you turn your legs over the edge of the bed. You stand and go to your bag, unzipping it as you nearly topple over. Your head is a maelstrom. You take out a loose tee and leggings and quickly dress. 

As you turn back, Lloyd watches you with a pout. It’s disarming how he can go from pathetic to putrid and predatory. You near the bed and go around the other side. You take a pillow and throw it at his back. He sighs and stands up. He ignores the pillow and pulls back the blanket. 

“No--” 

“Hey, promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he snaps. “I’m not sleeping on the damn floor. I’m still your boss, Pixie, remember that.” 

You don’t say anything. That’s the Mr. Hansen you know. Demanding. Stubborn. You turn your back to him and stretch out on your side. You cling to the corner of the pillow and close your eyes. 

His weight jostles behind you. He groans and the bed shifts as he leans over. The light shuts off and you nearly sigh at the relief. 

He lays back but doesn’t relax. He fidgets. Tossing and turning, one way then the other. Adjusting the pillows, tugging on the blanket, bouncing the springs. You chew on the urge to bark at him to stop. 

Finally, he stops. You exhale and try to ease your muscles. The tension only feeds the migraine. You focus on your breathing as you try to coax yourself back to sleep. You feel yourself slipping, further and further. A soft drone rises in your ears, rhythmic but harried. 

“Mmm,” the hum breaks through your bubble and frustration sparks in your chest. You were almost asleep. “Mm, yeah, that’s....” Lloyd raspy voice drawls into the darkness between shallow grunts, “fuck--” 

The shaking of the bed spikes your heartbeat. You open your eyes and frown. What is he doing? Is he--” 

“Lloyd!” You spin onto your back and sit up, “Lloyd, stop that--” 

“Fuck yeah, say my name,” he strokes himself furiously. You can vaguely see how the blanket jumps around his frantic motion. “Come on, I’m almost there.” 

“You’re--” 

“Told you,” he groans and pushes his feet into his bed, his knees bend under the blanket, “keeping my hands--- to myself.” 

“Oh, god!” You turn and leap out of bed, stumbling. “Lloyd, you’re disgusting. Nasty--” 

“Keep it coming, pix, it’s helping--” 

“Ew!” You grab the pillow and twist away, stomping out, “absolutely gross!” 

“Ah, yeah, fuck, baby! Thank you....” he voice peters out as you slam the bathroom door, flicking the lock into place. 

You wince at the impact against the frame and sway in the dark. You throw the pillow into the tub and grab the robe hung on the back of the door. Fuck it. You give up. You don’t even want to sleep anymore, you just want to be left alone. 

❄️

Your alarm wakes you through the wall. You’re stiff and sore, but your migraine has relented. The few hours were enough to push it back to a tenuous shadow. One wrong move and it’ll be back. 

You climb out of the tub and turn on the shower. You wash quickly, minding the time, and get ready in the mirror, wearing the same robe you slept under. You emerge to the rocky snoring. You turn on all the lights but Lloyd remains unbothered. 

You grab clothes, a black turtleneck and the same shade of cigarette pants. You dress in the bathroom then zip up your toiletry pouch. You come out to shove it into your suitcase and scour the room for anything forgotten.  

As a final touch, you return to the bathroom and take one of the paper cups and fill it. You go quietly to the bed and tip it over Lloyd’s naked back, exposed above above the messy blankets. He squeals and bounces to life, flipping over as the rest of him is revealed to the room. You avert your eyes at his nakedness. 

“What the fuck?” He snarls sleepily, “what are you doing?” 

“Time to get up, Lloydy poo,” you clap at him. “We got a plane to catch.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” 

“What? I'm helping you wake up. Like a good wife, right?” 

He goes to argue then hesitates. He moves the blankets and coughs. He blinks and rubs his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“Well, it’s time enough. You have thirty minutes to get it together, babykins.” 

He winces at your tone. He stares at you as you grin. He moves cautiously toward the edge of the bed. 

“What’s... you did something?” 

“No,” you answer flatly. 

“But...” he eyes you suspiciously. 

“I’m just playing my part,” you say. “Like we agreed. Not everyone is morally debunked like you, my beloved.” 

“Stop it,” he says. 

“Stop what, my manly man. The twinkle in my eye. My other half.” 

“All of that. I don’t like how you’re saying it,” he stands and hides his crotch with his hands. 

“Stop? Oh, teddy bear, we don’t know that word, do we? Stop? What could that possibly mean?” 

“Alright, I get it. You’re mad about last night--” 

“I’m not mad, sweetie, I’m concerned because if you don’t get yourself together, we’re going to miss another flight and if I miss this flight, well, I think I might just lose my mind,” you smile, “you don’t want that now, do you, snookums.” 

“You...” he turns back to you, “you’re a bit deranged sometimes.” 

“Speak for yourself, sugar,” you march up to him, your anger fuming like smog in your nostrils, and you pinch his naked ass. “Get into gear,” your voice deepens, “now.” 

He yelps and pulls away. He looks at you like he’s been splashed with cold water a second time and he swallows tightly. His brows arch as he gapes at you. He keeps one hand over his pelvis and reaches back to rub his ass. 

“Damn, Pixie,” he finally backs off, “you’re something else.” 

“I’m exhausted and I’m annoyed, so don’t push me.” You warn him. 

“Yeah, well, better get this all out now. I’m sure the family doesn’t need you spoiling the holiday cheer.” 

“Me?” You hiss. 

He blanches, “I meant... er...” 

“Go,” you snap your fingers and put your back to him. “I gotta get all this in the car.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and you listen to him retreat into the bathroom. 

You get your bags to the door then grab your boots and jacket. Your agitation buzzes just under your skin. You have the flight to rein it in. It won’t be easy like Lloyd’s family. They don’t know you, so you can pretend with them. But your family, well, you are related to them. You share quite a few traits. 

And Lloyd. You can’t have him running round like some goblin wreaking havoc. This whole thing is his idea and yet he doesn’t seem to know the script. He’s unpredictable and uncontrollable. He’s not the type your family would expect. That’s because he isn’t your type. Never in a million years would you choose him. 

You take your bags down to the car and return to the hotel room. Lloyd is half-dressed. A pair of lamb grey pants on as he pulls on a white turtleneck with a silver emblem on the left side of his chest. The clothes won’t help the theatrics. 

You gather up his clothes from the day before. You shove them into his large suitcase. “Is that everything?” 

“I think, I just have my essentials,” he says. “Gotta style the love stache.” 

“Go,” you wave him away. 

“Thank you, honey boo, I know. I do look handsome in this, don’t I?” He taunts. You look at him with all the lack of sleep and rage festering in you from the last two days. He recoils and puts his palms up, “right, I’ll doll myself up.” 

You wait for him to disappear back into the bathroom before you drag his bags to the door. You’ll leave them there so he can pack away whatever else he has out. You go to the bed and sit, running your hands over your face. 

This isn’t just about getting through today. After the bullshit he promised his family, this is going to be months of torment. You don’t know if you have the willpower to put up with him for that long. 

[basil-fronsac]

WILD GEESE ♧ social media a.u.

─ · · 01. NEW BEGINNINGS

pairing: spencer agnew x reader

summary: having cleared the hurdles of your first day at smosh, things seem to be going smoothly. that is, until a few late night conversations cause a shift in your perspective.

tags: feminine pronouns / seemingly unrequited relationships / mentions of drinking / reader is an up-and-coming lifestyle + comedy youtuber

NAVIGATION | PROLOGUE | PART TWO (coming soon)

💐 yourusername

liked by spennser, filmingamanda, and others

yourusername big long day 🧺

i can safely say the first day jitters have subsided! additionally, i know this probably isn’t the ideal place, but i just wanted to take this space to express how truly grateful i am for smosh and for this opportunity. as many of you know, i desperately needed to get out of new york, and lost in a new city. these past few months have been a rollercoaster, but i feel as if i’ve finally arrived at the end. ian and anthony, thank you so so much for taking me on and allowing me to join your wonderful troup of extremely talented individuals, both on and off screen. whatever my future holds, i know working here will change me irrevocably—i’m so stoked.

view all 422 comments...

ianhecox i hope the welcome party wasn't too shabby... (liked by yourusername)

username06 smoshmouth appearance???

↳ username07 omg smosh pleasepleasepleaseplease

↳ username08 (name) and amanda in the same room 🤞

mal_myerz day was stressful but nevertheless she slayed

↳ yourusername a joint slay i fear

anthonypadilla so glad to have you here! (liked by yourusername)

username09 the scream i scrumpt

↳ username10 still can't believe she booked!!

↳ username09 or that she actually left winthrop in nyc

username10 WE HAVE CONFIRMATION

smoshgames 🔥

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | now

unknown sender

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | 12m ago

sweetheart lovey-dovey wifey 💗🍒

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | 36m ago

unknown sender

(🔔) yourusername, see what's happening on twitter!

a/n: surprised myself with how quickly i got this out!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and thank you so much for reading xx

would you guys like to see more longform writing in future chapters? lmk

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Things that exist outside of the mainline comics that accidentally get used as canon

1. The J brand on Jason’s face

This is specifically from the Arkham-verse, where Joker imprisoned, tortured, and branded Jason. While Arkham Knight only hints at what was done, the associated comics that give us more information about what led up to the events of the game show just how bad it was. That Jason is a broken man and never died.

Also Arkham-verse Joker is the worst. I am not going to be the one to tell you what that that version of Jason discovered he did when right before getting captured. You need to look that up.

2. The crowbar scar on the left side of the face

This was only seen in the Gotham Knights game and associated comics. It’s also media where it states the Lazarus Pits brought him back to life - in most mainline comic runs, that can’t happen unless the person was in the process of dying or had died like a minute ago before getting dipped.

To be honest with you, I like this one. In Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016), Jason tells Artemis he’s upset the Pit got rid of his scars. So, maybe this can be a treat for him.

3. Joker Junior

This was depicted in Batman: Beyond which is in the same universe as The Batman: The Animated Series. This is not in the mainline comics. I also want to point out that Tim from the animated series was basically given Jason’s backstory.

Seeing this used as canon actually enrages me for some reason.

[fangsandfeels]

>Ok but he doesn't. He thinks he does. He thinks he has Rook all pinned down. It's why he doesn't expect Rook to escape the Prison of Regret but Rook does. Solas is convinced that all of his manipulation to get Rook to drown in regret is enough to keep them trapped in that prison. In his pride, he doesn't expect Rook to escape. He once again doesn't expect Rook to see through his final betrayal about the veil. He also doesn't expect Rook to have enough cards by the end to stop him (which is conditional based on what you do in the game)

I don't think that Varric was thinking that far ahead when he was hiring Rook. Hiring someone who can make decisions during high-risk situations and face the outcome is logical - you know that this person has the resilience necessary and won't back away from a challenging task.

However, to hire them because they're unpredictable and can potentially outsmart or outwit Solas? I don't think they were aiming that high or planning that far ahead. They just needed reliable people to hopefully intercept Solas before he sets his plans in motion.

Also, it's not uncommon for Solas to underestimate people. He woke up and decided that the beings living after the Veil deserved to go extinct because he saw them as terminally disabled due to their disconnect from the Fade - and only later was he forced to acknowledge them as people, which didn't dissuade him from his goals, just made him feel bad about what he was going to do.

He had flawed opinions about dwarves, Qunari, humans - and he still has them, but recognizes the Inquisitor as "one of the good ones" on High Approval. So, his pride has always been his weakness and the reason for his hubris.

The Inquisitor would have gotten out of the Prison of Regret, just like many other determined and strong personalities Solas knew personally - because they made as many, if not even more hard decisions as Rook did, and they didn't let regret stop them.

>Cassandra also spent time in the Hunterhorn Mountains north of Orlais, where she worked to rebuild the Seekers. For a time, the new Seekers remained reclusive, showing no interest in worldly affairs and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess.

"For a time" doesn't necessarily mean "for entire 10 years". Also, Seekers seeming reclusive and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess makes sense in the context of the Trespasser - if Cassandra decided to use the Seekers to assist the Inquisitor with searching for Solas, she isn't going to tell everyone and their mother about it.

Nobody knows what exactly Seekers are working on because nobody needs to know. Cassandra did learn a lot, and she learned how to be subtle. At least, had she been included in the plot of the Veilguard, there wouldn't have been any disconnect between the epilogue and her actions.

As for her not showing up in Southern Thedas due to political reasons, it would have been understandable, especially if there was a particularly intense geopolitical situation (I'm elaborating on this in the final paragraphs below). However, since Solas could be anywhere because of the Eluvians, she still can help in the regions she can go to.

>With Corypheus gone there is a power vacuum. A cult of fanatics don't just say "oh well, guess we'll go home now." According to Tevinter Nights (which the franchise being a mixed-media franchise has it's own problems), while a lot distanced themselves from the Venatori there were still a good number of loyalists who remained active. This leads to Aelia trying to fill in that role. She does gain a decent amount of support for it. Even when she's "captured" she has enough sway to escape prison and cause problems. Why? Because the Venatori's ideology is appealing to a lot of people in Tevinter even if they don't directly associate with the cult. However, with her "failure" we have another power vacuum present - so why is it "lazy writing" to have the emergence of another powerful mage that speaks like Corypheus and offer power similarly to what he did fill that?

First of all, yes, telling the story of the game in bits of other media is a horrible practice. Not all people are going to read them - so, it should be explained in the game. Not just by codex entries, but by the characters. I had no clue who Aelia was and why she was bad news - and Neve's vague explanations didn't make it any clearer.

Second, without Corypheus the Venatori lost their competitive differentiation, so to speak- their ideology wasn't any different from the general ideology of Tevinter, just a tad more honest and aggressive.

Yes, Tevinter is obsessed with the idea of its supremacy. Yes, it believes it deserves to rule the world and is working towards this goal.

Venatori are just too loud and messy about it, especially without an ancient god/demigod backing them up. So, if the Venatori can't serve the Tevinter's cause meaningfully or at least fall in line, the Tevinter's power would have either dismantled them (either forcefully or by destroying them from inside), just so they would stop causing so much ruckus and getting unwanted attention.

Alternatively, Tevinter would have exploited their zeal and fanaticism (for instance, encouraging their unethical magic research or even agreeing to finance their search for magisters like Corypheus) because despite being absolutely despicable Tevinter isn't stupid and it knows an opportunity when it sees one.

What I mean to say is that the game tries to show that the Venatori are the main reason why Tevinter is corrupt and not getting any better instead of showcasing how deep the problem goes and how it's much more complicated than "defeating a group of bad guys with an evil name"

>The supremacist ideology of the Venatori embody everything you're saying here. The examples you're giving are all part of the supremacist mindset. Hedonistic and power-obsessed ruling class? Yep. "Slavery is bad" and "we should treat non-mages as people" Those two concepts are directly against the supremacists ideology. We also do get some notes from Dorian doing just that Veilguard. The Venatori isn't just one shade of ugly, it's the embodiment of everything wrong in Tevinter. It's the supremacist ideology given form.

Then why make such a focus on the Venatori if the entire Tevinter is built on the ideas of supremacy? Why?

By making the Venatori solo bad guys of Tevinter, the writers washed their hands off the entire corrupt system of Tevinter established in the previous games - see, guys, magisters aren't that bad and the entire Tevinter society doesn't need a wake-up call, it were the Venatori all along. The Venatori are bad, Tevinter nobles practice slavery just because they're misunderstood and confused, and I guess Danarius, Hadriana, and all the slavers from Tevinter you had met before were just the Venatori in trench coats.

The reason why Tevinter refused to acknowledge the Venatori in the Inquisition was because of their cultish obsession with Corypheus and unsubtle aggressiveness, which didn't look good for their long-term ambitions and plotting.

It would have made more sense if the Venatori either became an official ruling party by the events of Veilguard (no coup needed) because a) they didn't meet any resistance from Senate or the people of Tevinter, b) they brought proof of ancient magisters actually existing, which gave magisters a huge ego boost and added quasireligious delusions to the Tevinter's program, c) Par-Vollen officially started its invasion (like it was promised in the previous games) by attacking Antiva, giving Tevinter the opportunity to be more active and aggressive (infiltrating Antiva by offering it "protection" from the Qunari, reintegrating Kirkwall under the guise of defensive measures), preying on the neighbor's desperation and vulnerability to its influence.

But instead, they're shown as that malicious cult that is officially opposed and rejected as if Tevinter somehow had an issue with their philosophy.

>Varric is the one tasked with forming a small team. It's his responsibility to form that team and onboard people and vet them. With the way it's framed in "The Missing" Varric had full authority to bring on whoever. He didn't need approval. They kept in touch via Charter and sent correspondence to the Inquisitor but there wasn't any need for approval.

That's the problem, especially considering that the group was going against Solas with his immense abilities and his network of spies. Bringing on whoever is dangerous. There should be at least reporting to the Inquisitor about new recruits because otherwise Varric had been putting himself in a stab-me-in-the-back situation for Solas' spies all that time.

>Given Varric's line to Neve at the beginning, Varric is upfront with the information: "I also told you he was an ancient elven god." Whether the person believes them is dependent on the person. Rook has been tracking Solas with Varric for a year or so. I think by now they've witnessed enough to believe Varric's information.

Having the information doesn't mean being prepared to face Solas - a guy who has been manipulating and doing psychological warfare long before the the Veil. Also, Varric gives a very one-sided perspective on Solas because he only knows him as his former ally. The Inquisitor gets to know a lot more about Solas - after all, they're the one he rants to during his High Approval scene at the balcony, they're the one he subtly confirms his chosen course of action with, they're the one who sees him leave after the Orb is broken, and they're the one to meet him again in the Trespasser. Varric doesn't have this information, he didn't see that side of Solas, so whatever information he gives to Rook is incomplete. Rook doesn't know what they're dealing with. Moreover, Rook doesn't need to know that Solas is sentimental - Rook needs to know that Solas is very good at lying and deceiving people and that he is ruthless.

It all could have been addressed within prologue dialogues, but all we got was Rook asking "So, when we find this Solas...then what?" - which sounded as if Rook joined the group just yesterday. As a result, Rook sounds woefully unprepared.

>You think they wouldn't let that stop them. I think they're smart enough to not continue to play an active part if any information they get or send off is information Solas is spoon feeding them. If their continued involvement would cause more harm then good then yea, I think they would take a step back. I think they would hand off the reigns to others.

The problem is: who are these others? The entire "there is a real elven god walking around and he wants to destroy the Veil" story is very hard to explain to anyone who hadn't been around during the events of the Trespasser. Dismissive and derogatory attitude towards the elven culture aside, people don't respond to the "gods are among us" claims well without proof. It's not the Blight, which is super hard to ignore. It's something new - and it's so challenging to everyone's religious ideas that engaging new allies would have required some thoughtful wording and messaging.

There is a reason the guys who believed that Andraste reincarnated into a dragon were considered lunatics in the DA:O. To find others who can handle Solas (while knowing what he is and bracing themselves for a tough challenge) would take time and effort - meanwhile, both Leliana and Josephine have the burden of knowing the threat, knowing it's coming. I can't honestly imagine them sitting on their hands and hoping that the Inquisitor finds someone.

Now, there could have been a wonderful way to keep them busy and not as involved without making it look odd. For instance, if Par Vollen officially declared war and started invading Rivain and Antiva.

In that case, Josephine would be fully committed to doing whatever she can for her country, while Leliana's presence will be crucial for a) the morale and safety (if Divine), b) working against Ben-Hassrath and gathering intel (if Sister Nightingale).

>They do find new allies through their journey.

We don't see them in the game.

>They do find people who have ample knowledge of magic and ancient history.

We don't see them in the game.

>This idea also continues to play out in Veilguard. We find someone who has connections.

There is only Neve who is more of a investigative journalist/freedom fighter who never dealt with gods, ancient magic or anything like that. She herself admits that she is way over her head.

>We find someone who has ample knowledge of the fade since that's what Solas was directly trying to manipulate.

Aside from Emmrich, there is nobody else available - and Rook employs him after Varric is out of commission, leaving Rook desperate for help and clues because they have nothing. That's the issue: there are no tangible results after the 10 years of search. Rook starts from the ground zero - even though they aren't supposed to.

>I do not think it implicitly means what you've interpreted it to. I think that's how you interpreted that and I think that's a valid interpretation of it. Unfortunately that's not where they took it. That's also now how I interpreted it. I think a lot of the fandom interpreted this in different ways and that leads to disappointment if their interpretation wasn't correct. I think that's what's happening to you here. I don't think Bioware not catering to your interpretation means "they don't care." or anything like that. I think it's just that what you predicted or assumed based on the information provided ended up being incorrect. Other people predicted it correctly. If anything this just means that the marketing team could have done better at setting expectations and making sure everyone was on the same page.

From my point of view, there are things that are meant to be interpreted differently by players, and that are part of worldbuilding that isn't up for interpretation. For example, the Warden can be absolutely merciless and cruel in their decisions - and their motivations depend on the player's interpretation (trauma, anger due to oppression, refusal to be kind to the world that screwed them over, simple assholery). Similarly, the Warden can be heroic and selfless - why are they like that is still up to the player's interpretation. However, the end goal doesn't change: Kill the Archdemon. It doesn't matter how evil or how kind the Warden is as long as they get the job done. They become the Hero of Ferelden regardless.

All the threats created or hinted at were never up to interpretation. Blights are extremely dangerous. The Mage-Templar war caused massive destructive disruptions across the Andrastian regions, leaving mages and templars particularly vulnerable to exploitation. The death of the Divine led to hysteria and massive crisis of faith, while the Breach and the rise of Corypheus led to the emergence of the Venatori and red lyrium zombies. And the characters always responded accordingly to the threats -- either because of their rank and calling or due to them having exclusive understanding of the problem and needing to be in the loop.

The ending of Trespasser implied that Leliana and Cassandra were sticking around, working with Inquisitor and following the Inquisitor's decisions (and certainly taking note of how easily Solas infiltrated their networks). For them to just bow out without any explanation or reason isn't the problem of interpretation - the game didn't deliver its own buildup.

>But Bioware can't just make whatever they want. Bioware is owned by EA (not just published through them. OWNED by them). Bioware has to pay people to make the games. They need to get the funding and approval from EA to do so. This means that no matter how passionate the team is, there's only so much they can do and EA gets a huge say in what that is. EA who explicitly stated earlier AFTER BG3 released that they don't think single player story based games are worth investing in. WHICH IS INSANE TO ME. EA had them start developing the game one way. EA had them change development midway. EA had them remove all multiplayer pieces. EA cut funding to Bioware forcing them to make cuts in staff.

I admit, I don't know whether it was Bioware or EA who decided to completely dunk on the elves and their entire arc in the Veilguard, make a clown show out of Qunari, destroy Loghain as a character and erase nearly the entire Southern Thedas - and then naively hope for Dragon Age series to get the next game.

I don't know whether it was the Bioware's love ruined by the EA (which definitely played the part in it because I know how soulless and greedy management can fuck up the production) or Bioware writing it all out of spite and then releasing the artbook so people could pay $75 to see the content and the story that never happened and will never happen.

The outcome is the same: there is no reason for me to give them money. If Bioware can no longer make it's own creative choices, I will no longer buy its games because it means rewarding EA for its abhorrent practices.

There is no point in believing in Bioware anymore and support it because if this is where EA is taking it, I'd rather let my favorite series die and be put to rest than see them twisted into the parody of their former selves.

I understand your point, but IMHO, the problem of Veilguard isn't that it's not perfect - it has been actively hurt by the choices and management, which is why it's the pale shadow of what it was supposed to be.

Moreover, I don't even know what the writing team thinks because they either lump reasonable criticism together with elon musk fanboys whining, which is downright insulting or carefully pat themselves on the back for the job done. I understand that EA may have made them sign some kind of BS contract that doesn't allow them to speak ill of EA and its decisions for 100 years or so, but even refraining from comments would have sent the message.

Right now, both behaviors create an impression as it's the players fault for having expectations and wanting the proper final of their story, instead of just consuming the content.

And that's just sad.

Bioware writing team has a comfy, sheltered life and it shows

I'm sorry, but how come that the only people Inquisitor sent to look for Solas were Varric and Harding? How come that the only people recruited in 10 years of pursuing Solas were Neve and Rook? Do the writers understand that this is NOT how a serious effort looks like?

What about Leliana? Divine or not, she is still Sister Nightingale with an immense spywork. You'd think she won't mobilize everything she has to track Solas and his followers?

What about Josephine? What, she decided "nah, I'm done" and didn't use any of her diplomatic talents and connections to let the Inquisitor's agents have access, permissions or information they need?

What about Dorian? As a political figure, you'd think he will be the first Minrathous contact for the Inquisitor allies, the one arranging things and providing insights?

What about Cassandra and her Seekers? Isn't she interested in stopping another world-ending threat?

What about Sera and her sabotaging potential? If she organized the group of people for performing vigilante acts, people who are her eyes and ears, how come nobody from her group is helping with the effort?

I get it why Varric takes part in it - he knew Solas, the Inquisitor trusts him and his judgement, but for the game to imply that all the responsibility was lumped on Varric's shoulders is fucking disgraceful. I get it writers, Varric is popular character, and you would use him as bait to your heart's content, but the context you've created implies that Varric might have been the only one to take the threat seriously, while the Inquisitor and the rest were doing God knows what.

Varric should have been handing the Rook information on all the contacts they can recruit, all the useful agents, all the people to work with, not tell them to ask Neve because she might know someone because detective (Neve is a good character, but the fact that people who were supposed to spend 10 years chasing Solas look up to her for finding them contacts is appalling).

"Oh, but all these people were in the previous parts and we don't want to mention previous parts because muh new players" - well, you shot yourselves in the foot. Maybe, just maybe, you should have AT LEAST cared more about the choices made in DAI.

Congrats.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

abby knows how god awful you are at taking care of yourself. fortunately, she learned that just a little bit of help and subtle coercion will force you through your nighttime routine.

(aka bedtime domesticity with abby)

free palestine! click this link for more info

at night when you’re already cozied up under layers of blankets, eyes glued to your phone, she pulls you out of bed and gives you a piggyback ride to the bathroom to force you into your nighttime routine. to start, she carefully undresses you while telling you how beautiful you are and how happy she is after coming home to see her beloved. her days were long and stressful. she absolutely hated coming home late at night, only being able to hold your attention for an hour or two before sleep took over. 

“did you have a good day, baby? i missed you.” 

she’d keep you talking about your day and any other musings to keep you from begging to go back and reclaim your imprinted spot on your shared mattress. 

you lean back against her in the shower, feigning exhaustion so she can hold you up. in reality it was an excuse to feel the warmth of her skin against yours. 

“my poor baby. so, so tired.” her tone would almost sound patronizing if you hadn’t known her mannerisms. “you need me to do it for you?”

you’d nod and she would. the question was superfluous. the answer was always the same. she’d start by gently washing your face with a really expensive specialty cleanser she bought for you on nora’s recommendation. then, she’d use a combination of a washcloth and her hands to wash your body. she ran her hands along your collarbones to your shoulders, slowly moving downwards to your waist and hips. she knelt down in front of you, holding your thighs up one by one, making sure she scrubbed every inch of your body. 

while down on her knees, she couldn’t help but place a few kisses against your hips and thighs. abby always had to resist the urge to bury her face in your cunt right then and there. 

right now, she had a mission. 

these moments were mostly for you. she was a morning shower type of gal, but had no problem making sure you were taken care of, even if you didn’t want to.

after the shower she would take her time toweling you off, taking in your body like it was the first time she’d ever seen you unclothed. every time was the first time to her. she couldn’t get enough of you. 

the two of you would do the rest of your identical skincare routine together, a ritual she imposed as a ruse to get you to actually use the products you begged her to buy for you. while she brushed her teeth, you would undo her braid and carefully detangle her hair. 

at the end of the night she’d carry you right back to your spot in your dark room, pulling out a pair of pajamas for you. they never matched, something that bothered you for a while, but quickly got over knowing she would never hear out your complaints. sure, you could get your own pajamas, but it was more fun putting her to work. abby slept in the same thing every night, just a pair of boxer briefs. 

she was always the last to fall asleep, waiting to see your chest rise and fall in that familiar soft rhythm. until you did, she’d lay and watch your scroll on tik tok. abby refused to download any social media app, so you had to bookmark the videos to show to her at bedtime. the two of you softly giggled together shrouded in darkness.

abby glanced at the time, sitting up in bed to leer down at you. "don't you have to be up early tomorrow?"

"buuuuut, i'm staying up to hangout with you." you whined back.

it took a few moments for abby's face to soften with a defeated sigh "and tomorrow you'll wake up complaining about how sleepy you are."

"maybe." you reluctantly conceded. "but, what if i love you so much and want to sit and talk to you all night?"

"what if i love you more and i'll make you coffee while we talk in the morning?"

"fineeee."

wrote this at like 11pm while laying on my bathroom floor trying to convince myself to take off my makeup. love domestic abby #needthat !!

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comments Section (pt.8)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: after taking some time away from the spotlight, you return to surprise friends and fans alike with your more recent updates...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART NINE

─ · · A/N: can't believe its been over a month since the last update, sorry about that y'all 😬 but hope you enjoy this part!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile.

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Liked by co_mill, spennser, sydney_sweeney, and others

(name)s_username Hey... so it's been awhile. I've taken time away from the internet and from the cameras to focus on myself and on my relationships and in that time I realized how far I was pushing myself and other's away from me.

I will be taking a step away from my on-screen role(s) at Smosh since it is not fair to you, the fans or to anyone working at Smosh to work around my schedule. I will try and make guest appearances if I can and I'm sorry if I ever got your hopes up for things to go back to where they started but I hope that at least some of you will come out to support my new projects and I understand fully if you cannot.

Thank you to my team, my friends at Smosh, Sydney and Glen, and to Spencer for always being there for me. I know that I have not been myself these past few months but I think I'm finally finding what I need so stay tuned for a more happy update later lol.

Love you all!

View all 7,342 comments

username01 Always supported you and always will, (name)! Hope you find what you're looking for 💕

co_mill gonna miss having you, bestie! But I can already see how much happier you are and that makes me happy! 😊

↳ (name)s_username you're so sweet. I'll miss you too, bestie! 🥹🫶

username44 eh, still does not make up for everything. I felt like you used Spencer and Smosh to make your "career."

username70 Mixed feeling about this but wishing you the best!

anthonypadilla your dads are here to give you a virtual hug goodbye, so here it is!

↳ ian_hecox yeah, best hug you ever had here: ↳ (name)s_username I can feel it! 🤣

username22 I don't know about you, but I'm feeling dust in my eyes! I'm sad to see (name) go but if they can be like an Olivia or Keith- I can live with that ❤️

angelagiovanagiarratana wait so you're LEAVING? WTF GUYS why does nobody ever tell me anything?!? Like good for you bestie, you get that mental health back on track but seriously? I had to come here from twitter to learn this 😭

↳ (name)s_username Girl! I left you a voice memo yesterday 👀 ↳ angelagiovanagiarratana oh shit, I thought that was spam 😬 ↳ username30 OMG LMAO!!! 🤣

username88 I was so worried about you! Happy to know you're back on the up and up again 💕

shayne_topp you're gonna kill it out there but you'll always have a seat at smosh cast to tell me and Amanda all about it!

↳ (name)s_username give me a month or two and I will be there lol ↳ shayne_topp counting on it!

filmingamanda happy post you say? 😉

tomeybones who's gonna cry with my in the bathroom now??

spennser 🫶

↳ (name)s_username 🫶

─────── · ·

🔔 SmoshGames just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

Thank you (Name)!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 4k | 👎 7.75M subscribers 1.1M views 2 days ago #2 on trending a complication of (name) moments from over the years... click to expand

5,992 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator Smosh Games ✓ From a decade of on and off-camera shenanigans, everyone here at Smosh wishes (name) the very best! (even though we are jealous others get to work with them too). Be sure to comment your favourite memory/moment of (name)!

username01 this feels like a bad break-up since you're still in love with them lol 😭

↳ username61 you know that this is going to happen with everyone one day but you never expect today. fuck i'm going to miss them. * [this comment has been censored for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE]

username30 everyone is out here acting like they died. PEOPLE (NAME) IS GOING TO COME BACK FOR SPECIALS DONT WORRY! god.

username24 I still think back to that hide and seek video, I hope that future update comfirms (yourshipname) for good!

username77 "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened"

username11 (name) falling over and accidentally discovering what is cake by face plant will never not be the best moment on this channel 🤣

username40 where are all the "#imdonewith(name)" people now?? Sure to have changed their tune quickly...

(yourshipname)updates ✓ any moment with (name) and Spencer is a certified classic for Smosh. I mean they are the Shayne and Courtney of nerds.

username09 I was so scared that (name) was going to fall into that Hollywood lifestyle... happy yo know that they're still there.

username52 "this isn't goodbye, it's see you later" - and I'm counting on it for (name)'s return!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!

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Liked by spennser, ian_hecox, tomeybones and others

(name)s_username good company, 9/10, could have talked more about movies but was too caught up on video games. idk if I would recommend for anyone else 😬

View all 3,229 comments

username01 (name) be having the most aesthetic blog possible in this new era and I'm here for it 💕

spennser decided to take out the image of my soul-crushing win?

↳ (name)s_username no! I left it in right beside you almost face planting if you scroll to the left 😄 ↳ spennser ☹️ ↳ (name)s_username 😂 ↳ username40 I seriously cannot tell if this is a soft launch or them just being dumbasses again...

username80 just two friends spending casual friend time together... right? right? right? 👀

damien_Hass why wasn't I invited??? you know how much I love bowling!

↳ (name)s_username next time 100%!

filmingamanda I think I used to work in a bowling alley... then again maybe it was mini golf place. Anyways cute pictures!!

username30 eh, I'll count this as a win for (yourshipname).

username00 WHY ARE WE ALL SO CALM, THIS IS A SOFT LAUNCH PEOPLE. A. SOFT. LAUNCH. You heard it here first, folks!

username11 waiting on Spencers post now to confirm it but AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. Has the angst finally stopped for some fluff???

username16 Love how all the regular comments are being stationed at the top for us shippers to be down in the trenches analyzing every image.

username19 " idk if I would recommend for anyone else..." mhmm yup, you take that man!

─────── · ·

🔔 This post is getting a lot of likes! Check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by (name)s_username, anthonypadilla, filmingamanda and others

spennser do the math- the answer's probably right.

View all 7,002 comments

(name)s_username so lets see here, college meet-up + years working together - a few years and months apart x some texts = ...

↳ spennser I mean I would format it a bit differently but I came to the same conclusion 🤷 ↳ username60 now they are just playing with us, what is this curelty??!?! Spit. it. out. already. please!

username24 so the answer I got was "and then they kissed," am I right?

username00 I've always hated math.

↳ tomeybones fuck! someone already took my caption!

co_mill the math is mathing so hard rn.

shayne_topp so... beopordy (math edition) next?

username01 only real fans will remember that 1st picture 🫶

filimgamanda I've never felt older in a comment's section till now, WTF is a "soft launch"

↳ ian_hecox ummm, its when Nasa tries to send off something or something like that ↳ filimgamanda oh, okay! ↳ username40 its like watching two robots communicate with one another 😭 ↳ username10 not another Harambe situation again!!

username43 Alexa? please order me another three bottles of wine. we're gonna need them...

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: only two more parts to go!

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags — grayson hawthorne x reader — part 7

⤷ “pour your glass of wine // mitchell told me i should be just fine,”

summary: you and grayson haven’t talked in a while, and things stir up in the world around you and in your mind. luckily, you have the best best friend by your side. wc: 2.0k a/n: hey siri.. play two people by gracie abrams… (said sadly) series masterlist — other parts

previously on part 6…

“he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back.”

—

it had been a few weeks since you and grayson stopped talking. yeah— weeks. that was the longest you had gone without talking to him since you’ve known him. isn’t that strange?

it was driving you crazy, the amount of times you saw something that reminded you of him, or your friendship, and you wanted to send it to him, only to remember you couldn’t. you weren’t friends, and you had him blocked on basically everything.

or the amount of times you saw something only the two of you would understand, something that would’ve made you laugh, and just feel saddened by it. it felt like your memories were split between the two of you. 

there was a thing that was even stranger, though— he had started seeing someone. 

at least that’s what it looked like, with the posts she’d put on her social media. she had posted a picture of the back of a blonde head you could recognize anywhere in-front of the sunset, and one of her walking with someone holding her shopping bags— and the hand had the faintest scar on it’s thumb, it was almost impossible to notice. and it was a scar that only you knew the backstory to. 

there was that— and the countless paparazzi photos online— ‘grayson hawthorne’s possible new girlfriend? the mysterious blonde hawthorne has a new hot date! grayson and his interesting new friend ella spotted in…’ it was sickening. 

he would go to extreme lengths to never have paparazzi find you back when you hung out. always in quiet, secluded areas. you never thought much of it before, but now it looked like it had a whole new meaning.

was he embarrassed? did he not want to be seen with you? did he— you off your thoughts before you spiraled.

she was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny it.

and the worst part? she was an absolute sweetheart. there wasn’t a single reason to hate her.

you hated yourself more for even looking for a reason to. 

the thing is though, he was never yours. sure, he wiped the tears off of your cheeks when you cried, gave you the kisses you could only dream of, confided in you about things he didn’t tell his family, and he was your best friend. but he was never simply just yours.

besides, you were the one who made sure that any chance of you happening was gone permanently. he asked to talk, and you talked. then you went home crying. 

this was grayson you were talking about: if he wanted something, he found a way to get it. that being said, if he wanted to be with you, or even just still be your friend, he would’ve said something. 

he didn’t. 

if ella was what he wanted, then you just had to deal with it.

you weren’t ever like this, you promised yourself you would never be that girl. green and sick with jealousy, questioning her own self worth. 

but hey, you promised each other you’d be there for each other always, did you not? seems like promises didn’t mean all that much anymore. 

—

“you don’t get it, gigi.” you exclaimed frustratedly as you wiped your angry tears away. 

you had just stormed out of a club you were at with your friends. the bustling music and bright flashing lights stopped again as the door shut behind gigi, after she ran after you. the music could still be heard slightly, but it was muffled heavily behind the door.

your friends wanted you to go kiss random guys, drink until you couldn’t feel anything, and for a few days, you did. and it almost worked, but it just made you feel horrible now. a few of them even made crude jokes about grayson and ella.

you didn’t feel like yourself— you didn’t even like yourself. how could you ever expect grayson to?

“he just doesn’t care if i look pretty, or if i’m doing better, or any of these other things.” you pointed out exaggeratedly, knowing you were taking it out on the wrong person, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“you know what?” you said through a cruel chuckle. “the worst part is that he would probably be happy for me that i’m moving on, or looking better, being myself, or whatever the hell you guys say i should do.” 

you gestured to the door of the buildings where the rest of your friends sat, frustration running all the way to your fingertips.

“he wouldn’t get jealous.” you said, angry at yourself that you got jealous. “he’s a good person, and that’s why it hurts so much. that’s why i’m ‘not over it in 2 weeks like i usually am.’” you continued, almost choking on your words by now. 

you were so angry that all your friends expected you to just get over it. they don’t know what its like to feel that kind of love one day, and find out the other person didn’t even think of you like that.

to find out that he thought of someone else like that. 

and somehow, even through the pounding of your ears and burning throat, you had even more to say. 

“he’s surrounded by pretty girls every day, gigi, the only difference is he actually wants to be with one, and it’s not me. and that’s fine.” you put on your most level voice, and after a moment added, “it has to be fine.” 

you sniffled, and decided from then on you were not going to let grayson hawthorne, or more so the lack of him, dictate your life for a second longer.

gigi stood there wide eyes, her mouth opening to speak, then shutting. then opening again, then shutting. “i…” she managed, and your heart almost tore as you noticed her eyes were glossy now. 

fuck, you messed up. 

“geeg,” you took a tentative step towards her, the nickname coming out before you could even think. you held out a hand as if to stop her from moving, “wait, gigi—“

“— no, i’m sorry. i messed everything up.” she shook her head apologetically as she looked at you, her voice breaking, and in turn breaking your heart. “i— you guys were perfect friends before. and i, i— i ruined it all by trying to play matchmaker.” 

“what?” you breathed out, rapidly shaking your head. “no no no, none of this is your fault. you didn’t do anything, i was stupid, and he kissed me. those were our choices, you didn’t force anything— i didn’t mean to take it out on you. you did nothing wrong gigi,”

“stop,” she said through a forced laugh, bringing herself to smile. you knew it was a fake one, and she knew you knew. but she kept on smiling anyway. 

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say that.” she spoke through a laugh, a bleak contrast to the pained expression on her face. it was tearing your soul by the second. she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand harshly. 

“i should’ve just left everything alone.” gigi tore here eyes away from you, and to the ground. “why do i never leave anything alone?“ she exhaled through a sad laugh. you noticed she started to talk faster, and more so speaking to herself. you picked up on her hands fiddling with themselves, then she toyed with the hem of her shirt. 

“no, gigi, look at me.” you waited until her wide blue eyes locked on yours, her wet lashes clumped together. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i did though, and now gray isn’t acting like himself, you’re not okay, and i’m the worst best friend and sister in the world.” 

“gigi,” you gave her a sympathetic look as your shoulders sagged. you couldn’t begin to think about how you could express how much you loved her.

you pulled her into a hug, and her arms stayed glued to her sides for a moment, before finally hugging you back 10x harder. 

you screwed your eyes shut as you felt her cry on your shoulder. 

“geeg, you have no idea how light my life got the second you entered it,” you mumbled into the hug. “and, i mean— so what if me and grayson aren’t friends anymore? that doesn’t matter, not as much as your friendship matters.”

gigis breathing slowed, and she was sniffling now. the thing that mattered was that she wasn’t crying. 

you continued, “he’s not the one i dance with late at night and watch shitty reality tv with in bed the next morning. he’s not the one who i laugh wicker the stupidest things with for hours on end. he’s not the person i text first when something happens. he’s not my best friend.” 

not anymore, and he probably never would be ever again.

you felt gigi laugh sadly through a sniffle, still on your shoulder. she was silent for a long moment. then she mumbled, “we’re pretty damn amazing, aren’t we?” she lifted her head and looked at you. 

“yeah, we sort of are.” you smiled at her, watching as she wiped her tears and took a deep breath in. 

“you know,” she mumbled, “i really really hate my brother.” she said as she straightened her clothes, exhaling a long breath as she shook her head. 

“yeah,” you sighed, lying straight through your teeth. “me and you both.” 

you more so hated him because you couldn’t really hate him. not fully hate him, anyway. 

gigi let the lie slide straight through, changing the subject with a laugh as she leaned forward and fluffed up your hair. 

“let’s get inside before we get hypothermia.” she took your hand and led you to the door, “our outfits are not built for the cold.” 

“oh, yeah. i know that’s for sure.” you laughed, faking shivering and clattering your teeth. you followed gigi into the doors of the music and bright lights.

for once, you actually looking forward to the night you had ahead of you. 

because, you knew you and gigi would grab your purses and go straight home, rewatch your favorite movies until sunrise, and then spend the day dancing to your favorite songs with your favorite person. and repeat until you ran out of baked goods and coffee. 

that was what healing was. to you at least.

—

“okay but like,” gigi said, before popping another marshmallow in her mouth. 

“have you seen yourself? it’s like, your eyes like— hold the secrets to the universe in them.” she swore solemnly, raising her eyebrows for added effect. “i could look in them forever and eveeerrrrr.”

she tilted her head, eyes widening as she dragged the last word; looking like she was in a hypnotized state.

“gigi, stop.” you laughed as you felt your face redden, pushing her shoulder away.

“sorry,” she didn’t let her act slip up for a single second. “i’m just a little mesmerized right now.” 

“you’re not funny,” the laugh threatening to break out said otherwise. 

“just give me a moment. i’m just committing this scene to memory so i’ll see you in my dreams,” her voice was all robot-like, she always knew how to cheer you up in the most ridiculous ways. “the day isn’t enough time—“

“shut up,” you giggled, hiding your face as gigi leaned back, throwing her head back in laughter.

you shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you continued to chuckle. once you’d both settled down, gigi spoke again, more serious this time.

she leaned her head back on the couch, looking at you fondly. “i’m sorry my brother is a d1 douche bag. if he had a dollar every time he was literally the worst person ever, he’d be richer than avery.” 

you managed a small laugh. “tell me about it,” you said, then after a moment of giggles, you spoke again. “i love you more, geeg. way more than you know.”

—

it was bordering between late night and early morning when you woke up. gigi’s limbs were strewn across the king-sized bed you lay on. you could hear her soft snores. 

you turned over and gave her a glance, and her hair was all over the place in the most endearing, gigi way. 

she’s going to struggle with that tomorrow, you thought. you laughed to yourself, before reaching over blindly for your phone, the notifications of which you forgot to silence, being the whole reason you were awake now. 

2:32 the time read, and you scrolled down to read your notifications. 

your smile faded faster than you could ever imagine. there was a crater in your chest, and a hole in your stomach.

earlier notifications:

**A blocked number wants to message you. Accept?**

— I’m sorry. — I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I can’t let losing you be another. 

**Tap here to delete this message, and all previous conversation.**

a/n: gigi my girl ☹️ sorry for the recent influx of angst help idk what happened taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @moonnsstruckksworld @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm 

@goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington

[f1amour]

Hiya!! Can I pretty please request a blurb that’s both angsty and a lil fluffy?

🍮 Lewis Hamilton - “I’m scared of losing you”

❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — lewis hamilton

pairing | lewis hamilton x reader

content warnings | angst, comfort, age gap mentioned (not specified)

★ navigation | main masterlist

─────────────────────────

“lewis is ready for this season to end” “lewis wants a fresh start and it’ll be with ferrari” “seems like hamilton just wants a a fresh start with life in general…does that include his girlfriend?”

the tweets did not stop rolling in and you couldn’t help but get lost in them. you couldn’t help but believe the words many were saying. maybe lewis was over this season, done with mercedes, and maybe he was over you too. he noticed the distance you had put up after the brazil gp. there was a two week break and you had spent it at home trying to relax but that was not possible with your constant checking in on twitter to see what people are saying about you.

you weren’t one to be on your phone so much at least when you had free time with lewis you guys tried your best to be in the moment. so when he came home from taking roscoe on a walk only to find you in the same spot you were in before he left almost two hours ago was concerning. it was concerning enough when you didn’t join them on the walk which you usually do, telling lewis you wanted to stay back and start on dinner. dinner was nowhere to be seen as you say on the barstool in the kitchen phone on in your hands with tears in your eyes.

lewis quickly lets roscoe off his leash and walks to you, “baby, what’s going?” his finger lifts your chin up to look him in the eyes but the tears in your eyes just make him frown. “please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” his soft voice fills your ears as you let him wrap his arms around you giving you a hug you didn’t know you needed until now.

your body shakes shading his as you let all your tears and frustrations out until you finally calm down his hands rub your back as you take deep breaths, “i…i’m scared, lewis. i’m scared of losing you,” you tell him what you’d been feeling for weeks now. lewis was not expecting those words to come out of your mouth. in fact, he felt that he was losing you due to this distance you’d been putting up.

his hands cup your face and gives you a smile that makes you believe your thoughts of losing him were just your imagination, “oh honey, now why would you think that? i can’t imagine my life without you. who told you something?” he asks, knowing damn well you’d never just start having these thoughts for no reason.

you look down at the countertop as you hand him your phone which had your twitter feed full of negativity, “lewis looks over this team and ready for a fresh start either ferrari he probably feels the same in his love life as well, lewis wants to focus on his 8th world championship not shopping for wedding rings for his young girlfriend who brings bad luck—,” lewis stops after the last tweet and looks over at you, your hands covering your face trying to avoid his gaze.

“look at me. plenty of people feel the opposite of these tweets. you got sucked into a thread that is all people who don’t actually support me. my fans, my true fans adore you. maybe even more than me. you’re only a few years younger than me and that isn’t an issue with me, love. i love you. you’ve brought the good luck for me. you bring faith every single race week especially this year where it’s been fucking hell most of the time. i can’t imaging my life without you, ever.” his words soothe your mind despite still feeling a bit anxious from those tweets you realize maybe listening to complete strangers rather than the love of your life wasn’t the best idea. however, lewis always validated your feelings and why you may have gotten lost in the dark side of the media where people aren’t always so accepting of your relationship.

“i’m sorry, lew. shouldn’t have listened to them i just…i don’t know how you deal with everything and still keep your head up. i’m exhausted,” you confess, you were never one to be on social media and read comments unless they were from friends or family. seeing how the last few races have been brutal for lewis you wanted to defend your boyfriend but ended up on the wrong side. “baby, you were with me for 2021. you are probably the only reason i didn’t quit and why i still haven’t. you’ve got faith in me, i hold that very dear to my heart. i’m with you till the end.” his last words make you cry some more but happy tears now as he chuckles at your smile, “there’s my girl. now, let’s take a break from the phone and cook some dinner together.”

he helps you off the stool and you grab his hand turning him back, “i love you too.” you pull him into a kiss and all lewis could think about is the engagement ring hiding under roscoe’s bed ready to make an appearance once the season is over.

[vibeswithdivs]

He’s more patient than he looks

Part 2

pairing: max verstappen x reader

The summer heat hung heavy over the Red Bull Racing paddock as the season reached its peak. With each race, the team’s social media presence grew, and she found herself more deeply embedded in the world of Formula 1. Max was no longer just the star driver she admired from afar; he was now a trusted colleague and a friend.

Their camaraderie blossomed, each shared laugh drawing them closer as they worked together on various projects.

“Okay, Max,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully as she set up her camera for another behind-the-scenes shoot. “Let’s get serious for a second. What’s your favorite flavor of energy drink?”

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “That’s not serious at all! It’s obviously the Red Bull Tropical flavor. Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

She laughed, adjusting the tripod. “If you keep it honest, I think they’ll appreciate it. But seriously, what’s your go-to?”

“Fine,” he relented, feigning exasperation. “My go-to is the sugar-free version. Less crash, more speed.”

“Okay, sugar-free it is!” she called out, grinning as she positioned the camera. “Now, tell me why fans should choose it over the others.”

Max leaned closer to the camera, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because if you want to be fast like me, you need to cut the sugar!” He struck a pose, flexing his biceps with a playful smirk.

She stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “You know you’re the worst at this, right?”

“Absolutely. But I’m also the fastest,” he shot back, winking.

Their playful banter continued through the shoot, the atmosphere light and filled with laughter. Max was surprisingly good in front of the camera, his natural charisma shining through. Every time she asked him to repeat a line, he would roll his eyes dramatically but always obliged, turning the mundane into something entertaining.

After filming a series of promotional videos, they moved on to social media challenges, which were quickly becoming a fan favorite. One challenge involved a trivia game about Formula 1 history, and Max was convinced he’d ace it.

“Ready to lose?” she teased, setting up the first question.

“No way. I’m a walking encyclopedia of F1 facts,” he replied confidently.

“Let’s see about that,” she said, her excitement bubbling over.

The first question popped up on her phone screen: Who was the first driver to win a Formula 1 World Championship for Red Bull Racing?

Max’s brow furrowed in concentration. “That’s easy—Sebastian Vettel!”

She clapped, grinning. “Correct! One point for the Verstappen.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms smugly. “I told you I’d win.”

The next question, however, caught him off guard. What year did Red Bull Racing debut in Formula 1?

Max hesitated, glancing up as if he were searching the air for answers. “Uh… 2005?”

“Wrong! It was 2005, but they didn’t start racing until 2006!” she corrected, laughing at his playful frustration.

“Wait, I should get half a point for being close!” he protested, throwing his hands up.

“Nice try, but no. Let’s keep it fair,” she replied, wiping away tears of laughter.

Max feigned betrayal, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

As the trivia continued, their laughter echoed around the paddock. It was moments like these that made her realize how much she enjoyed Max’s company, his easy humor and contagious enthusiasm lifting her spirits even on the most chaotic days.

With every interaction, their friendship deepened. Max’s willingness to answer her questions about racing, his insight into the team’s dynamics, and the way he supported her social media efforts created a bond she hadn’t anticipated.

“Alright, Checo, your turn!” she said, holding up her phone to capture Sergio Pérez’s reaction.

Sitting cross-legged in the hospitality unit, Checo smiled lazily, clearly at ease. “What is this challenge again?”

“It’s the One-Chip Hot Challenge,” she explained with mock seriousness, handing him a single, ominously red tortilla chip. “You eat this, answer as many questions as you can in one minute, and try not to cry.”

Max snorted from his seat beside Checo. “Careful, mate. She’s out to get us today.”

“Oh, come on!” she protested, grinning. “It’s for the fans. They love seeing you both suffer.”

“I feel very supported,” Checo quipped, taking the chip from her. “Let’s do this.”

The timer started, and chaos ensued. As Checo bit into the chip, his confident expression faltered, replaced by wide eyes and a frantic search for water. Max dissolved into laughter, nearly falling off his chair.

“Question one: What year did you get your first F1 podium?” she asked, suppressing her own giggles.

“2012!” Checo gasped, his voice strained.

“Correct! Question two: Who has more wins, you or Max?”

Checo glared at her through watery eyes. “Him, obviously!”

“Right again. Okay, question three: Who’s more handsome—”

“Me,” Max interrupted, grinning.

Checo waved him off, reaching for the water bottle just out of reach. “You’re the worst! Next question!”

By the end of the minute, Checo was red-faced and fanning his mouth, while Max was still laughing uncontrollably. She stopped recording and set her phone down, unable to contain her laughter.

“You’re evil,” Checo told her, finally managing a sip of water.

“And you’re a great sport,” she replied, grinning.

“The fans are going to love this.”

Max leaned closer, still chuckling. “You’re getting too good at this job. We might have to keep an eye on you.”

“Only if you can keep up,” she teased, nudging his shoulder.

As the weeks rolled on, the rhythm of race weekends became a familiar beat. The team worked seamlessly, and she often found herself in the thick of things, collaborating with different departments to capture the energy of each event.

Race day was always an adrenaline-fueled affair, but this one felt particularly electric. The stands were packed with fans, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. The sun shone brightly, illuminating the cars as they lined up on the grid.

“Ready?” Max asked, his expression serious yet focused.

“More than ready,” she replied, trying to hide the fluttering in her stomach.

“Remember, just stay calm and capture the excitement. Don’t worry about the little things.”

“Easy for you to say,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

“You’re the one about to drive at breakneck speeds.”

Max chuckled, the sound soothing her nerves. “Just think of it as another day in the office for you, too.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. With her camera in hand, she moved around the grid, capturing shots of the cars, the crew, and the fans, all while keeping an eye on Max as he prepared for the race.

“Hey!” he called, breaking her concentration.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. “What?”

“Make sure you film my victory lap. It’s going to be epic!”

“Don’t get too cocky!” she shouted back, laughing.

As the cars lined up on the grid, she took her usual spot near the pit wall, ready to capture the start. The roar of the engines and the anticipation in the air made her heart pound, even though she wasn’t the one driving.

The lights went out, and the race began in a blur of sound and speed. Max got a clean start, maintaining his position near the front, while Checo made an aggressive move to gain a place. She followed the action closely, her camera trained on the screens and the pit crew as they reacted to every turn and overtake.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered under her breath, watching him close the gap on the leader.

The first half of the race was uneventful, with both Max and Checo holding steady positions. But as the laps ticked by, the tension began to mount.

It happened in an instant.

Max was pushing hard to overtake when his car hit a curb awkwardly at high speed. The rear end snapped around, and the car spun out of control, slamming into the barriers with a sickening crunch.

Her heart plummeted as the sound of the crash echoed across the circuit. She froze, her camera still trained on the screen as debris flew and smoke billowed from the wreckage.

“No…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

The pit wall erupted into frantic activity, the engineers and mechanics scrambling to assess the situation. The race broadcast cut to a close-up of the crash site, showing Max’s car crumpled against the barrier.

“Max, do you copy?” the race engineer’s voice crackled over the radio, tense with urgency.

There was no response.

Her stomach twisted, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She gripped the edge of the pit wall, her hands trembling as she stared at the screen, willing Max to respond.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“Say something.”

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before the camera finally showed movement in the cockpit. Max raised a hand, signaling to the marshals that he was okay.

The relief was overwhelming, and she let out a shaky breath, her knees nearly giving way. But the sight of him climbing out of the car, visibly shaken and favoring one leg, reignited her worry.

Watching Max limp toward the medical car, she felt an ache she couldn’t explain—a deep, unshakable worry for the person who had become so much more than just a colleague.

The camera felt heavy in her hands, and every update from the medical center sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her.

Her heart clenched, and she made up her mind. Setting her camera aside, she hurried toward the medical center, each step echoing with unanswered questions.

Would he be okay? Was he hurt worse than he let on?

As she approached the doors, her breath caught in her throat. The uncertainty was unbearable, and she braced herself for whatever lay ahead.

[edgeray]

*vibrates*

So many wips… 👀

Ok so. IDK. I have. So many “want to sees”. So I’m just gonna list them 🤷‍♀️

Ghost Clervie AU. I’m imagining Clervie watching as Peruere- sorry, *Arlecchino* develops her “cold, strict, and unfeeling Father persona”. But she quickly reverts back to Peruere in the presence of Clervie when Arle figures out she isn’t hallucinating and this isn’t some scheme of someone trying to throw her off balance.

(I’m actually just realizing the parallels of Furina making her Archon persona and Peruere with her Father persona 🤔 Both masks are there in order to better protect the people that rely on them (Fontaine’s citizens and the Hearths Children respectively)). Anyways.

Isekai-ed Arlecchino. I’m just wondering at how that would work and how serious you would make the writing take itself. Like would it be crack, crack that takes itself serious, or serious? (You don’t need to answer that. I was just pondering)

Modern Cat or Bunny Shifter Arle. Arle in her animal form has a nearly 100% coat with the exception of one ear that’s black. It’s cute. Also, I see her as a bunny with floppy ears that are so long that she trips over them XD I’m giggling at the thought she might even be one of those massive bunny breeds too. This makes me wonder if the House exists and whether or not the rest are also shapeshifters. Like a haven for shapeshifters, if you will.

Pirate Arle. You know (you don’t, but I’m telling you 😅) I’m a sucker for enemies(who actually aren’t all that bad) taking in and caring for an abandoned enemy.

Historical Goddess Arle. I think the fact that Reader prays for a painless death rather than no death at all could be intriguing to Arle who probably regularly gets prayers from people not wanting to die?

Spiderwoman Arle. It’s not a want, it’s a need. I’m also a sucker for secret identity relationships. 

Arlecchino w/ Cursed Bio Child.

Alien Arle and Human Reader. Arle and Clervie internally seething at getting another runaway test subject (not at the human, at the fact they were experimented on). That(the facility) would need to be taken care of… (badass ArlexClervie couple who are leaders of an organization who take down illegal trafficking rings, experiment facilities, etc? 👀) Once the newcomer gets adjusted to their new home, of course.

Arlecchino x Alive/Knave Clervie.

Sorry if any of that/the extra commentary seems like I’m trying to press for any of this. Yeah, these are requests. If that’s ok 🙂

👉👈 Hopefully it isn’t overwhelming.

The Other End of the Blade

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon, sorry for being late with this anon! I really love your commentary on all of your (mine?) ideas so don’t worry about it! I’ll put more of a response at the end of this.  This one is going to be pirate AU because I too crave some enemies to lovers right now. One piece is the only basis I have for pirates so apologies if it's not alike to other pirate media.    Those of you wondering where this list of ideas come from, it’s from my ideas/wip post, where I store all of the silly little ideas for fanfics. Feel free to request from anything on that list.

Content warnings / info - enemies to lovers, semi-graphic violence, heavily one piece inspired, got WAY too invested into this whoops, 4.0k words

Before you could read books, you could read wanted posters. Before you could spell out your name, you could write down ‘pirate’ and ‘wanted dead or alive.’ Before you could write, you throw a mean punch. Before you knew how to play, you knew how to fight. And before you knew how to count your fingers, you could tie knots. Before you knew what a Marine was, you already were one. And before you knew what ‘love’ means, you knew what hate was and who to hate: pirates. Hatred towards them coursed alongside your blood through your veins. 

Pirates are the scum of the seas, raiders from the depths of the oceans that have come to pillage towns and wreak havoc over the prospering empires. They’re sick people who only know how to steal and how to kill. They rob lives without an ounce of hesitance, ignorant to the misery and suffering they force upon people because of their actions. The world would be better off without them. That way, all people can live in peace without worry from murderers and pillagers like them. Pirates are everything you should hate and you swear that you're going to make it so not one person has to be afraid of their shores–they'll never have to look at the horizon wondering if they see pirate ships in the distance cruising towards them. 

If there is one thing that your family has instilled into you, it would be that a world free of suffering is a world free of pirates. Like every other family member before you, you've been set on the path of greatness that is to eradicate every one of those vermin since birth. The only aspiration you could have is rising the ranks of the Marines. Generations of your family served in the Marine, holding the highest positions. Being anything short of one of the admiral positions, (the lowest of which ranking fourth highest in authority) is a disgrace, a stain on your one of the most prominent Marine families. 

Rising towards the ranks was no difficulty for you. It's only about two years since you've joined the Marines, and you've already risen to a commander position. For reference, even the best of soldiers take four to five years to be promoted to that level. And you know you're about to be promoted–you just need one big case. Just capture one famous pirate, and you know that the Captain rank is yours. One more step closer to cementing your place among the greats of your family. 

– 

Water pelts across your face and the strong sea breeze whips around you. Over your own thumping heart, you can hear the roaring of raging waves paired with the wild flapping of the sails and the creaking of wood. Thudding footsteps rushes all around you, and the clouded sky flashes, thundering. 

“Lower the sails!” You scream at the men as they wrestle with the ropes. Seeing one of the men fumble, you grumble under your breath and shove him away to take over. 

“Get a bucket, and keep getting rid of the water. We need as little water to get into the hull as possible,” you command him, and that's enough to make him useful. 

“Pirate ship spotted!” One of the crew members states and you groan in frustration. A pirate ship at this time? You're only just barely ensuring the vessel does not capsize! Not only is the Marine ship struggling, but no doubt the pirate ship would be too. You release the ropes, seeking out the captain. 

“Captain!” You yell as you head towards him. The cranky man shoots you a snooty glare before turning to a Marine soldier besides him. 

“Hurry up! What flag is it?! Huh? Huh?! Give me a damn answer before I throw you overboard!” Your captain gruffly exclaims at the poor Marine who was holding a spyglass, pointing it towards the oncoming ship. You cringe at the Captain's voice, silently giving sentiments to the other Marine. 

“It's a… um… it.. um…” The Marine stutters, unsure of what to make of the flag. You grind your teeth before wrenching it out of his hands and examining the flag yourself with squinted eyes. In between  heavy rain and dark surroundings, you can just barely recognize the flag: a hand grasping a candle. 

Damn it! At this time?! 

“It's the Hearth pirates!” You announce, tossing the scope to your Captain to see. 

“The Hearth? You mean one of the Harbinger crews?!” The old man grunts before seeing for himself. His facial features morph into one of disbelief before hardening. 

“I want every cannon manned now! Get your weapons ready and drawn! All hands on deck!” The Captain demands. The confusion and disbelief was practically palpable among the Marines, and felt through their second of hesitation before the soldiers’ replied with a ‘yes Captain.’

Is he crazy? What the hell is wrong with him? As much as you would love to capture the notorious Hearth pirates, you knew now was nothing but an imprudent time. Even if the Hearth was among the less deadly of the Harbinger crews, that did not make them any less powerful. You have heard from other Marines’ hushed whispers that it takes at least a large fleet (5 Marine ships) to take down one entire Harbinger ship, and even that was theoretical. The Fatui pirates as a whole are damn near unstoppable, but the Harbingers themselves are monsters ripped from hell. As much as you hate to admit, you’re not strong enough to defeat a Harbinger, and you have similar doubts for your Captain. Where does he get this pomposity from?

The other men are struggling enough to keep this piece of wood afloat, and now they have to worry about battling pirates? You doubt even the Hearth is eager for a fight. Fighting in this storm would only lead to early graves for both sides. Winning against and capturing the Hearth pirates is unfavorable, but surviving past this storm is indisputable. 

“Wait, Captain!” You call out to him. An annoyed click of his tongue comes from him, as if you were the bother, and it only makes you clench your hands into fists. He turns his back towards you, irritation written all over his expression. 

“What are you standing around for? Get ready already!” He demands with a scrunched face. 

“We can't engage in battle with them yet! We don’t have enough men, and we're already struggling with the storm!” You protest. “We're in no condition to try and fight them!”

Silence. Around you, you hear whispers from the other crewmates, sounds of agreement coming from them. Evidently, this increases the captain's indignation. 

“Quiet!” He screams. “If we're struggling, just think about how they could be faring! They don't have nearly enough resources as us marines do to survive! This is our chance to capture one of the Harbinger crews!

“After all,” he pauses to give you a pointed, haughty look. “We have one of the members of the greatest family? We won't lose with you on our side, right? We're in your hands.”

You bristle, your nails digging into your palm as your lips twitch into a deeper frown. To think he would use your family name against you. What is he even trying to do? You're too stunned to respond and he brushes past you. 

You're absolutely powerless to do anything, and so are the other soldiers on this ship. No one here outranks the Captain. No matter how correct you may be, you would be punished for disobeying a superior's order. If only you could have been promoted earlier, then you wouldn't have to listen to this fool. Had it been you, you would have this ship steered towards the closest Marine base and report what direction the Hearth pirates are going. But you can't do that. You nod pathetically, and the rest of the men disperse. 

You can only watch as the smaller ship approaches closer and closer. As soon as Hearth pirates enter within the firing range, chaos ensues with your Captain's bellowed “FIRE!” 

A cacophony of screams and cannon fire sound through the air, deafening you, and the overpowering smell of gunpowder and brine swarm your nostrils. Like all naval battles, it’s always a blur–just a flash of colors and movements. At some point, the pirate ship approached close enough for them to board onto the Marine ship. You are not aware of this until you find yourself face to face with one of the Hearth pirates. By then, all rationale has been thrown out in favor of instinct–the most precise, miniscule reaction is what keeps you alive the most when it comes to battling pirates. Your surroundings fade from your awareness, your only attention on the figure before you.

She’s a young pirate, that you can tell, but her skills are no less admirable. She has an ever passive, unreadable face that makes predicting her movements hard to discern and even harder to catch off guard. You narrowly dodge another slash of her saber, and your cutlass swishes through the air, only shallowly cutting her sleeve. Despite this, she is far from deterred, and you have to parry another swing. The steel of the blades screeches as your blades clash against each other. Now at a temporary standstill, the both of you exchange eye contact for a brief moment. Lilac eyes, brimming with determination, skirts away from yours. She pulls away only to lunge again, a thrust of her blade heading towards you abdomen but you dodge, side-stepping it. The blade skims just past you, embedding into the wood of one of the masts. Realizing the given opportunity, you give a swift kick to the pirate’s stomach, disconnecting her hand from the handle of her sword. She tumbles onto the ground with a grunt, and you use no time to close the distance. 

Just as you are about to deliver another blow, a loud gunshot sounds through, making you flinch. A sharp pain erupts from your left shoulder and you stumble back from the young pirate. You cock your head, peering behind you. This action allows you to narrowly miss two oncoming daggers, though your cheek and neck get nicked. Spinning on your heel, you face the dagger wielding pirate fully. He’s a young boy, with a top hat and matching eyes of the saber user. Siblings, perhaps? The fierceness in his eyes confirms your suspicions. 

You charge at the boy, but before reaching him, a large wave crashes into the boat, water spilling overboard and throwing you off balance. The sudden impact makes you lose your balance, and you’re hurtled towards the railings of the ship, your back slamming into it. An audible crack emits from the collision and your spine screams out in agony. Lifting yourself into a crawling position, you glance up at the havoc over the deck. 

A bit close to you is your captain, fighting against a white-haired woman. Given the striking polearm she wields, that must be the Knave, one of the eleven Harbingers of the Fatui pirates. Her movements are graceful, every thrust and slash calculated and precise. In contrast, your captain’s movements are botched, desperate. Every output of effort from him is just for another instance of him scraping by with his life. Each parry with his saber leaves his arms trembling. He is a bumbling mess compared to the Knave. Easily, you can tell it’s a losing battle for your captain. He’s outclassed. 

You’re about to rise when a flicker of bright light catches your gaze. Your eyes widen as you turn your head to spot a bright orange mass covering a part of the deck, and it only grows the longer you gaze at it. The flames stalk towards you with a terrifying space. Despite your body’s protest, you beckon your body to stand. When you have both feet on the wooden planks, you head towards your captain to assist him in his battle. Abruptly, the Marine ship shakes, another current assaulting its side. Swept off your feet, your body is flung, your lower abdomen hitting the top of the railings while you roll off of the ship. It’s only by sheer luck that your hand catches the base of the railing, holding onto it with all the strength you could muster in your left arm. The rest of your body hangs over the ever-swallowing sea. 

Your grasp is slipping because of the rain. You grunt as you try to lift yourself with just one arm. Opening your mouth, you clench your teeth onto the spine of your cutlass, freeing up your right arm to grip onto the base of another fence. With much effort, you’re able to heave your head up so that your eyesight is just over the floor. You can spot the familiar boots of the captain. Every muscle in your arm is straining, burning painfully. Holding on for much longer is impossible.

The cutlass has to go. You let the weapon fall from your mouth, and it plunges into the waters below. 

“Captain! Captain!” The guttural outcry comes from your lips. There’s the groaning of wood breaking. A large shadow looms over you, and you lift your gaze. The mast above tilts down, forewarning its collapse on top of you. 

“CAPTAIN!” You scream out, no longer having the strength to lift your head above the deck. You dangle helplessly, your grip slacking with each second. 

You hear thumping footsteps towards you, and you have never been more grateful to see the unsightliness of your captain’s face peering over the railings. 

For a moment, he does nothing, viewing your vulnerable state. His lips twitch, a small smile stretches over his face. He turns away briefly, glancing in both the right and left direction, before focusing on you again. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that they know you fought honorably,” he says, venom in his voice. “So go ahead and let go.”

Your blood freezes, and his face disappears. Your arms can no longer continue and you let up. 

You fall, plunging into the icy cold waters. The iciness does not just seep into your blood, but your muscles and tendons too, making your body heavy. Air is stolen away from you and you flail and kick to the surface for air. Everything hurts. As you sputter for oxygen, coughing out the saltwater, your vision catches the glimpse of a long brown mass toppling down onto you. It’s the last thing you see when something hits the back of your head, and everything fades into an inky abyss. 

—

Everything hurts. It's the first thing that comes to you when you are able to grasp even a bit of consciousness. You feel it in your limbs, your back, your abdomen, essentially anything above your waist has a stabbing sensation in it. A groan, followed by a deep suction of air, emerges from you, and you lift your head up. Your eyes flutter open, bright light stabbing into your eyes. You let out a pained groan, rolling your neck to ease its discomfort but find it unhelpful. 

Your eyes adjust to the orange glow of your surroundings. You blink several times to relieve the blurriness in your vision, able to see more clearly. Given the rocking motion and the familiar sound of waves crashing, you would reckon you're on a ship. Looking down at yourself, you're seated on a chair. You attempt to sit up, only to find yourself unable to. Rope digs into the skin of your bound wrists, and you let out a string of expletives in a single defeated sigh. 

“Did you learn that tongue from the Marines?” A cutthroat voice resounds through the room. 

You dip your head, turning towards the figure. A tall woman leans against the wall in the corner, a good bit of distance away. White and black strands, charcoal hands, crimson crossed-pupils, and the epitome of beauty and refinement that marks the appearance of the Knave. Strange to find that among pirates, of all brutish people. Your hazy mind clears in an instant, and you sit up straighter. The pirate captain's presence brings about your most recent memories onto the forefront of your mind in short bursts. With a forceful swallow, you recognize that you have been captured by the Hearth pirates. If you're alive rather than dead, that means they have some use for you. Whatever it is, you need to escape from this. You can only do that when you fish for enough information. 

Taking in your surroundings, you'd have to guess you're in some storage room. Stacked barrels make up the majority of the room. Perhaps if you're able to access the contents of the barrels, you can use them to escape. If not, you could easily ruin their supplies, including food and water. 

“I just thought communicating would be easier in your language,” you snark back, observing the Harbinger's reaction. Expectedly, she remains inexpressive, revealing nothing. She leans away from the wall, stalking towards you. Heels click against the floorboards. Only pirates would have the audacity to be wearing such compromising shoes out on the sea. 

She stands before you, unmoving, her piercing gaze smiliarly fixated on your form. When nothing comes from her lips, you make conversation first.

“Admiring me?” 

This earns a humorless chuckle. “There's nothing to admire.” 

Ow. 

A frown comes across your face. Acting coy does not work on pirates like the Knave. The Knave seems like someone who only responds to directness. No use in stalling. 

“What happened to my crew?”

“They were alive when we left them.” 

“And are they still alive?”

“Presumably.” 

You grit your teeth, lunging at her in anger. Your bounds don't allow for much movement, and it only makes your chair screech across the floor boards towards the pirate. “You left them in the middle of the storm with a ruined ship! You killed them!” 

“You were the fools that decided to attack us.”

“You would have attacked us first! You scum aren't above anything! How can I even trust your word? How do I not know you're not lying to my face?! How do I know you haven't slaughtered them all?!” You scream, thrashing against the ropes wildly.  

“I doubt any persuasion could relieve your distrust. I see that any sort of conversation with you will be futile,” the pirate remarks. She spins on her heel, heading towards the door. You're almost tempted to let her if it means the chance of never seeing her face again, until another thought crosses your mind. 

Why did she want some sort of conversation with you?

“Wait.”

The Knave stops in her tracks. “Are you choosing to be civil for once?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Never mind. I can't bear seeing your face again.” 

An audible huff comes from the pirate before she does face back towards. 

“Why did you… why did you keep me alive? Why did you spare me? Why did you…” You pause, recalling back to your last memories. You were knocked unconscious by falling debris, that you were sure of. You should have drowned by all accounts. You doubt your crewmates have saved you–you hate to admit it, but you would have sunk to the seabed before one of them had noticed. Your crewmates would have been too focused on the pirates to have. If it wasn't any one from your party, then that only leaves the opposing party. However, there is no logical reason for them to. You'd sooner accept divine intervention rather than pirates having rescued you. 

The voice in your head, the voice that has been fostered since your childhood, tells you that it is neither of those two, just a sick sense of karma. Pirates aren't capable of any good doing. If they've kept you alive, it's because they intend to hurt you even more. They're inhuman monsters who only know how to steal and steal, until nothing of you is left. Wretched people that shouldn't even have the luxury of being labeled as ‘humans.’ 

“Why am I here?” You finally settle on those words. 

Silence stretches for a single moment before she begins. “You encountered two of my children, yes?” 

You raise your eyebrows at the mention of ‘children.’ You're aware that some captains likened themselves to a parental figure of their crew–it seems like the Knave is one of those cases. You think back to the young ash blond pirates you briefly fought. 

“The swordswoman and the dagger thrower,” you reply.

“Correct. I found Lyney as a child, when I was wandering the alleys of a shoretown. He bumped into me because he was in a hurry to save his sister from being sold to a high ranking Marine.”

Shock envelopes your face as you process those words. A Marine? Someone whose duty is to protect citizens? A high ranking Marine? Someone whose performance and power is praiseworthy and yet they would do something like that? The thought sickens you. That kind of behavior… that can only pertain to a pirate right? It is not possible for a Marine to act that way. Other Marine officials would have never allowed it. She must be feeding falsehoods to trick you, to get you to betray your family and duty. There's no way this would happen. 

Despite your inner turmoil, Arlecchino continues. “When I took them in, fed them and gave them somewhere to sleep, it took several months for Lyney to sleep in his own quarters. He couldn't be torn away from his sister's quarters. Any chore assigned to him, Lynette had to be beside him. You would have to possess a superhuman strength to separate him from her.”

You could imagine why. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, hating the fact that with every word, her story seems more and more plausible. Why were you even considering this fabricated story? Why were you being swayed by a pirate's tongue?

“Why are you telling me this? You didn't take me to tell your kids’ sob story,” you remark. 

“Every single person on this ship has been dealt an unfortunate hand by the Marines. My children,” she speaks with a hint of indignation, her voice chillingly sincere, “have suffered and wept because of a Marine. Not one of them has ever had a good history with a Marine.” 

She gives you a pointed look, one that makes your blood boil. You hate it, you want to gauge her eyes out because you can see the glint of sympathy in them. “I see now that it's not just people having been harmed by the Marines. But their own people too.” 

“I am not some pitiful stray you found on the street!” You scream, having heard enough of this. “I have not been wronged by-” 

“Your captain abandoned you.” That is all it takes to silence you, and your outburst dies the instant it comes. Any protests on your lips is pummeled away by the heaviness in your chest that forms whenever you think back to that moment. Arms aching, helpless and dangling, and the man you relied upon to lead you and guide you, turns away. He left you, simple as that, to die. Why? You couldn't even fathom a reason. How could a captain do that? After all your service, after all you've done for him, he leaves you.

“You would have died because of a self-serving captain.” 

And you still have the audacity to try and defend him. The Marines are all you know. He was just one man. That did not mean all the Marines were like that. “He was just one man.”

“One man is all it takes. One man is one too many. And if that were true, no one else would be on my ship. I do not believe that all Marines are as revolting as him. Quite the opposite. But there is enough and that's the problem. 

“You may find it hard to believe, but we want to welcome you. If you choose to so stubbornly reject our hospitality and company, we will drop you off at the nearest island so you may return to your duty. But here, we at least know of loyalty and family, I assure you that.” 

The Knave approaches you. You hear the unsheathing of a blade and you feel your wrists relieved from their bounds. You gape at her. 

“Welcome to the House of the Hearth.” 

More A/N: I know this was really long, and not at all romantic, but I got way too invested into the plot of it all to actually focus on the romance. Please someone request a part two because I haven't enjoyed writing a piece this much in a while (i know my inbox is closed for requests but I will make this an exception. This was such a fun piece that really had me invested the entire time while writing. I would love to see Arlecchino's and Reader's relationship develop more. I hope you guys enjoyed this because it's now the longest request I've ever written.

I'm not done yapping, unfortunately. To address anon's commentary. First of all, never be sorry for the commentary. I love yapping, as you may be able to tell. I love hearing your guys' ideas and I think they're all so cool!! (I'm also lonely :v pls talk to me anons).

I love, love, love Arlecchino's character, and I so wish to see it more explored in x Reader fics (I have something like this in the works ehehe) and I totally see the comparison between Furina and Clervie (even though I don't ship Arlefuri).

I've already written Goddess! Arlecchino x Reader! I've linked it in case you haven't seen it before. I'm also working on an Alien! Arlecchino x Human! Reader, so not quite like the Alien AU! Arlevie, but I thought it's something you might be interested. I think that Bunny! Arle would be more like her plush in the Arlecchino animation, but seeing her with floppy ears is such a cute image. With the Isekai AU, I guess it really depends on my mood. (I've also put a different concept for an Arlecchino Isekai-ed AU in the same post), but likely the one mentioned in your asks will have more crack.

I really want to think you for your conideration of my ideas!! It means a lot to me that people actually see them and like can envision it and feel the raw potential for that story like I do. I know it took super long for me to get to this request and it might not even be how you wanted but I hope you like it. <333

Note to future requests: if you guys give me a list of ideas you want me to do (bc you're as indecisive as I am), I can pick one to write :33)