#just because I’m familiar with both of them

[karmasloverrr]

godspeed - rafe cameron

pairings- rafe cameron x maybank reader, established relationship

SZN 4 SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!! you’ve been warned

this takes place in ep 10 right after everyone’s fighting and all that

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The adrenaline was still running through your vains, like the hot, dusty sand you all found yourself in over the past couple of hours. Your hands are shaking, can’t fully grasp the weight of what you’ve just done.

“Baby?” You snap out of your shocked haze when a pair of comforting, familiar hands come to rest on the side of your waist , “a-are you ok?” His blue, stress ridden eyes bore into yours.

You take a shaky breath in, letting the gun you held drop to the ground below your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jump up into him. “He almost killed you, Rafe. I thought I was gonna lose you, I-I didn’t have any other choice, he was so close to-“, your rambling was paused by him shushing you quietly and rubbing a hand soothingly up and down your back, his other gripping the back of your head like his life depended on it.

“I know, I know, breathe Y/N, breathe” You were sobbing now. Not out of remorse for one of Dalia’s men, whom you had just shot dead out of defense for Rafe, but because you almost lost the love of your life.

Rafe pulls away, still keeping a hand on your back, keeping you close. “You just saved my life, Y/N. I’m so proud of you for being strong, it’s gonna be ok.” He was now using a thumb to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

You nod frantically in understanding, sniffiling and leaning into his palms touch. Bringing a hand to his on your cheek, you intertwine fingers. “Are you o-ok? I mean you almost just got stabbed, Rafe. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if-“. He places both hands on your face now, demanding your attention.

“Hey, listen to me. You did exactly what I would’ve done if you were just in my situation, ok? Hell, I would’ve beat that fuckers face in before I let him get the chance to even go near you so don’t overthink this for a second, do you understand? I love you so much.”

You licked your lips and nodded. After Rafe had told you to stay with Kiara when he went to bide JJ some time with the crown, he got into trouble with one of Dalia’s men and hadn’t come back. You couldn’t stay still knowing he was by himself.

Despite protest from Kiara and how your brother needed you right now, you ran to look for Rafe. You could hear the sound of distress and punches being thrown before you could see them. Even through poor visibility you knew it was Rafe, your Rafe, being attacked. As you got closer you could see that he was being held at knife point and without thinking you pulled the gun out that rested at your hip and fired at the man’s back.

With JJ’s constant tutorials and a little bit of practice over the years you hit your target dead on. Except this time it wasn’t a beer bottle or a teddy bear, it was a human being and nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

Rafe continued to try and work you down from the shock and complete panic, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hairline. He eventually brought a smile onto your face when he praised your accuracy and said how bad ass it was, “that’s my girl”.

“It was kind of badass wasn’t it?” He let out a laugh at your rebuttal. Even in your state of mind, the sound of it made your stomach tingle with butterflies.

“If I’m gonna be honest, after I realized what just happened and saw you standing there, I got a little turned o-“, you scoffed at his antics and pushed him away from you playfully. “Shut up.”

He pulled you back into him before you got any farther, wrapping both arms around your waist, in turn you grabbed his biceps, looking into the eyes that you love so much.

You let your smile fade a little when you saw his eyes glaze over, knowing he was about to get emotional.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You saved me and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, please don’t feel guilty or anything like that. I would do anything for you too, y’know that.”

“I know, and seeing you like that, in that danger, made me sick and I-I just blacked out.” He nodded slowly in understanding, “but I’d do it again if it meant that you were ok.” you continued.

You were now the one stroking his arms in comfort, his head nodding up and down telling you he was processing it all. Now putting yourself on your tip toes to reach his face, you placed your lips on his in a loving kiss.

Pulling away, you placed your forehead on his. “It’s you and me, Cameron. Always.” He pulled away and placed a loving peck on the crown of your head, “Damn right, sweetheart.”

Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk back towards the direction that Kiara and JJ were. “Let’s go see if J found this fucking thing.”

Rafe scoffed but followed your lead, “I’ve had enough of this fairytale pogue sh-“, you gave him a ‘really?’ look, to which he held his hand up in defense and shrugged.

“They’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta hand it to them and besides, this is a little exciting don’t you think?”

He frowned and shook his head, “Almost just got stabbed to death but yeah, sure, having a grand old time.” You giggled at his sarcasm, used to it by now.

Walking up the hill, you exaggeratedly began to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to which he protested against immediately stating “this isn’t a rom-com, please stop” but deep down, he loved seeing you make light out of a shitty situation.

He knows it’s due to you being so used to doing it because of Luke growing up, which never fails to make his heart beat in rage, but everything in his world is ok, perfect, when he gets to see you smiling like this.

When you both reach the top, there’s an absence of your little brother and Kiara that causes your smile and stomach to drop. The sandstorm passed yet they’re still nowhere in sight.

“JJ?” you call out, in hopes that they’re possibly somewhere in ear range. Nothing.

“J! Kie! Guys?” You let go of Rafe’s hand, heading to go circle around the statue.

“Woah, don’t go by yourself. If they’re someplace close by they sure as hell didn’t stick around here, let’s head back towards the buildings. They probably met back up with John B and Sarah.”

You shook your head, “No, if they got the crown and were ok, they would’ve just came and found us. Rafe, somethings not right.” You started to head more towards the statue in hopes that they went a different direction but Rafe steps infront of you before you can get any further.

“Hey, stop. I know you’re worried but incase you forgot, it’s not just them that Daria’s men are looking for, ok? I’m not letting you get hurt in the process of trying to find them.”

You took the arm that he held out to his side as a barrier and shoved it. “Rafe, that’s my brother, please we need to at least look around the area and see-“ He began to side step along with you so you couldn’t move around him.

“I understand that, Y/N/N, but let’s use the brain I know you have and think rationally, alright? They probably went back with the group assuming we were there too, ok? Let’s start there.”

You shook your head in annoyance, you’ve always been stubborn and you’re certainly not budging about this. “All I’m saying, Rafe, is that we check around the area first, m-maybe they didn’t hear me when I yelled.”

“Baby, please listen to m-“

“John B! Pope! Y/N!”

You whipped your head to the direction of Kiara’s wail echoing through the air. A sound of desperation like you’ve never heard and don’t wanna hear again. “Oh my god.” you whispered in fear.

Rafe looked at you with agony in his eyes, recognizing the same fret in her voice that you did. Without any hesitation you took off down the hill, not listening to Rafe’s protest to “wait for him”.

Your mind was moving as fast as your legs, you didn’t know where you were going but it’s like your body knew exactly where to take you.

Weaving down and through the same maze like corridors that you had escaped from earlier led you closer to the sounds of your friends, “Kie?”, you yelled out in despair, now acknowledging Rafe’s footsteps a few seconds behind you.

You felt the room before you saw it, your stomach already declaring that somethings wrong, very wrong. Before you could brace yourself, you saw the image infront of you. Blood. John B shaking him. Kiara with her head on his chest and hands on his stomach. JJ.

“JJ?” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as it barely came out of your mouth, cracking and whispery, desperate and defeated.

Stumbling to a halt against Rafe’s chest, you felt your legs giving out from underneath you, a pair of arms coming to catch you before you collapsed. No, not him, please God, don’t do this to me, no. Rafe’s arms were the only thing keeping you stable while you began to crumble, him collapsing down to the floor with you as weeps exited your mouth, shaking your whole body.

You didn’t have to look at him very long to know he’s gone, you could feel it. Sobs and pleads from the group didn’t register against your own. It sounded so foreign coming out of your body. “He’s dead” you sobbed, physically feeling your heart breaking. “JJ, no”, you wailed. Your head feels a thousand pounds as you slowly lift it off the ground.

Rafe has his own placed against the top of your spine, his forehead making a known presence on your back, still gripping your arms as if you’ll go too if he doesn’t. To the best of your ability you try to stand, legs still feeling mush as you feel Rafe’s touch disappear the closer you get to your little brother.

Halfway through, you give up on the poor excuse for walking and collapse back to the ground again, now crawling towards his lifeless body. “JJ, wake up, please!”. The only sounds you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your sobbing screams and your heart breaking.

Your palm meets his face, already feeling so cold and lifeless, the exact opposite of JJ Maybank. “Please don’t do this to me. W-wake up, JJ!”. You continue stroking his cheek, patting it lightly a few times, hoping, begging, pleading for your brother to wake up.

Stroking his hair, you shake your head out of disbelief. Hushed whispers exit your lips, trying to reach the deepest parts of him.“I can’t do this without you JJ, don’t leave me.” It’s been you and him against the world, the shit hand you’ve been given wasn’t too bad when you had each other to fall back on.

Growing up you found solice in each other, you didn’t need anyone to help you or comfort you, you had your little brother and he had his older sister. When Luke was to drunk to help JJ get ready for school in the morning, it was you brushing his hair, picking out his outfit, making his lunch. With your mother long gone, you took pride in being that figure in his life and it was your greatest achievement, seeing the man he had turned into, no matter how rebellious and defiant, you loved him like your own, and now that he’s gone, what’s left for you?

“Who was it? Kiara, who did this to him?” you now turned your attention from JJ to Kie, her looking just as horrified as the rest of the group. A look of disgusted rage took over your face, your stomach bubbling with hatred.

She sniffled before speaking, “Chandler, h-he stabbed him, I- JJ saved me and gave him the crown, I don’t know- I can’t.” She began to sob, recalling the traumatic moment.

Motherfucker. If the betrayal wasn’t enough, knowing JJ was just trying to save his loved one and this is how he’s repaid?

You can’t see or think straight, one moment you’re mourning the loss of your best friend and the next you’re taking all the strength you have left and standing up with the gun on your hip, reloading the clip and heading towards the direction Kie said he went.

You don’t get very far before Sarah and John B rush to your side. “Y/N. Stay. We need you right now. Don’t do this.” You shake them off of you, sending your elbow into John B’s stomach in the process. “Get the fuck off of me.”

You whip around and point the gun at the group, they look at you in shock, not processing what’s going on. Your breathing is uneasy as you lick the forming sweat off your lips. “If any of you touch me one more time, I swear t-to God. I’m going to kill Groff and none of you are getting in my way.”

Looking around you see the faces of your best friends, sad, confused, and angry. The gun pointed at them has your stomach dropping. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” The gun you have aimed at them is making you sick all over again.

Rafe takes a few hesitant steps forward when he sees you begin to rub your chest anxiously, knowing it’s your way of trying to work your way down from a panic attack.

“Sweetheart, put the gun down, ok?” None of his words are registering with you. He’s gone, he’s gone, JJ’s dead.

Rafe catches you just before you start to collapse again, this time into the comfort of his chest and arms. He takes the gun that’s hanging loosely from your hand and reaches it behind his back for John B to take.

“Rafe, he’s dead. He’s g-gone.” sobbing the dreadful words into his chest, his shirt catching your tears. You’re both on the ground now, him cradling you like a toddler as he rocks you back and forth in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes your hair and rubs your back, soaking in all of your pain. Your sobs begin to muffle as the others join in with you, still begging JJ to wake up, to open his eyes and to come back.

The weight of the air feels similar to your chest, no matter how much comfort and apologies Rafe whispers into your hair, it’s still not enough, your baby brothers gone and he’s never coming back.

The warmth of the fire fans your face. Emotionally and physically drained is where you and the Pogues have found yourself. Rafe keeps a steady eye on you as your head leans against his shoulder, knowing the last time you spoke was a few hours ago when he buried JJ, none of you being able to bring yourselves to do it.

Stray tears slip down your face, your expression remaining uninterested and dry. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional sniffing from the group and the cracks of the wood in the dying out fire infront of you.

You feel Rafe’s heartbeat against your back and his chest move when he talks. “I don’t know. If it was my friend I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him, yeah?” You take a steady breath in, getting ready to defend him when Pope tells him to “shut up”.

“You guys think that JJ would just sit here if it was one of us?” The whole group turns its attention to you, knowing you’ve been far too quiet for far too long, like JJ, you can be a ticking time bomb in moments like these.

John B is the first to speak up, “We all know what JJ would do. He’d get even.” You nod, still looking at the fire, kicking some sand as you stand up to begin pacing in rage.

Rafe watches your moves carefully, ready to defend you and back you up for whatever you’re about to say. He trusts you and he’s knows your best interest, you could tell him the sky was purple and he’d agree, while placing a loving kiss on your cheek.

You shake your head in agreement, feeling the never subsided rage bubble back up into your throat.

“Revenge.”

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[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: charles leclerc !!

DEAREST READER. hello there! while waiting for the two-week break to end, i needed a little f1 headcanon/scenario to heal me from the famine. anyway, here’s for the leclerc fans out there! it’s funny that i’m posting his first when i actually finished oscar’s first 😂 i hope you’ll enjoy~ for more drivers, you can see my masterlist at the end of the post !

CONTENT WARNINGS. no warnings. just a heads-up that i am an 18+ blog and i prefer only adults visit my profile page. if you’re a minor, you can still read this work since it’s sfw. so, i hope everyone out there is being honest with themselves. oh, probably my fucked up english grammar because why do i care it’s pure vibes !

WORD COUNT. 998 words (ugh, so close to 1k) !

I debated with this idea, but after some time, I decided that mutual pining suits Charles Leclerc better. There is so much potential for slow-burn and comedy. It’s the kind of story where there’s already an established sense of familiarity between you and Charles, one that has existed for as long as either of you can remember. But it has never crossed into anything as intimate as being ‘lovers’. Sure, both your groups of friends always comment about how the two of you argue like a married couple and suggest you should just make it official already, but you and Charles dodge these accusations as swiftly as an F1 driver dodging a collision course.

While you and Charles may eye-roll or stick your tongue out at the sight of each other, both of you secretly wish for something more. Yet, neither dares to make a move, fearing the loss of the bond binding you and him. The platonic relationship between you and him feels comfortable, and disrupting that would seem like the foolish move of the century. So, to preserve it, you’re quick to ignore your feelings, and he does the same. As a result, pent-up, endearing emotions often spill out in the form of silly banter and subtle jealousy. The sneaky glances across the room and the lame lies told when either of you got caught staring seem endless. This routine is no different to playing a song on repeat: it’s the only thing that you’re both fixated on, apparently. At this point, provoking each other just to see what kind of reaction the other can elicit can be considered a love language. You think he’s just being annoying as usual, while he thinks you’re unbearably nosy–and it doesn’t help that he has heard of the ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ meme and he has used it against you every single time you are about to start an argument with him.

Charles Leclerc, despite being a multiple Grand Prix winner and has earned himself many titles–The Prince of Ferrari, The King of Monza, The Sun of Maranello, The Predestined–he still can’t officially call himself ‘your boyfriend’. It’s pathetic and it pisses him off. Currently one of the best drivers on the F1 grid, he has placed himself among legendary rivals, and yet, he can’t seem to place himself on the same bed as yours. Although his fame attracts the attention of high-profile celebrities and influencers, Charles has his thoughts and eyes only on you, even when he is currently surrounded by them. You, on the other hand, love to torture yourself by watching him sitting and talking with glamorous models–or just pretty women in general. He says it’s an occupational hazard, but the way you see it–or rather, feel it–it is more of an emotional hazard to you. But you’re not just going to sit around and drink your sorrows away. No. You’re going to greet and chat with his driver friends … but him.

His eyes narrow dangerously whenever he sees you hanging out with another man, even with his fellow F1 driver friends. But he starts losing his cool when he sees one of them initiate physical contact with you. While you’re giving them your best smile and laughter, Charles is already plotting how to commit a massacre on the next circuit. When you notice that he’s beginning to space out, you decide to approach him, incoming snide remarks already up your sleeve to torment Ferrari’s golden boy.

‘So,’ you start, taking the long-awaited empty seat beside him, ‘is she going to be your next in-chi-dent? Or just another pit stop?’

‘What? I’m the most charming guy in the room. I can’t help if all the ladies want a piece of me.’

‘Oh, please.’ You roll your eyes, ‘you’re about as charming as a stalled-out engine on a race day.’ You add, taking a sip of your drink.

A grin spreads across Charles’ thin lips as he leans closer to you–his chin barely above your shoulder. ‘Is that so? Funny, because I thought I’m just like Ferrari–impossible to resist.’

You try to repress the blush that is beginning to creep up your cheeks by staring at him dead in the eyes. ‘Well, since you are a Ferrari, then I guess I’m the safety car. Always having to slow you down when you get too full of yourself.’

The slight shock on Charles’ face gives you immense satisfaction, and you don’t try to hide it. But he is also quick to gain composure.

‘Or maybe, you’re just the chequered flag I’ve been racing toward all along ...’ He said, but his words seem to trail off in the wind.

It catches you off guard, and you stare at him with a questioning look, only to see Charles’ green eyes gazing at you tenderly. Oh, you hate it so much when he looks at you like that.

‘Nice try.’ You quickly cover your raging emotions with a smirk. ‘But you’re still stuck in the pits.’

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[ SONGS FOR THIS TROPE: Taylor Swift – Dress ✦ Sabrina Carpenter – Nonsense ✦ Arctic Monkeys – I Wanna Be Yours ✦ Gracie Abrams – Feels Like ✦ Lana Del Rey – Say Yes To Heaven ✦ Ariana Grande — goodnight n go ]

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

[enemiestolovershoe]

hii!! Do you think you write a kook!reader(but basically a pogue) x jj , where reader and jj are secretly dating but reader wants to meet the rest of the pogues, jj’s not ready so they have a slight argument about that during midsummers and that scene when jj runs away and calls the pogues to go to the bonfire place (don’t remeber what’s its called), he ‘forgets’ to call the reader aswell, making her end up feeling sad and after that finally they talk about their relationship and reader meets the pogues… sorry if this is random.. i just thought about it

Crossed Tides

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: JJ and Kook!Reader argue when she wants to meet his friends.

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: not proofread, rushed

A/N: I know this is rushed but I just can‘t bring myself to write properly about JJ. I��m fucking grieving about a fictional character. So if this sucks I‘m so fucking sorry :(

The Midsummers gala was in full swing. Guests glided across the lawn in a sea of pristine whites and blues, sipping drinks and laughing beneath strings of fairy lights. But you stood on the edge of it all, nervously twisting the hem of your dress between your fingers, watching the crowd for one familiar face: JJ.

He’d been distant tonight, showing up late and barely saying two words to you. You’d been secretly dating for months, always meeting at the docks or hidden stretches of beach, anywhere away from the sharp gaze of both the Kooks and the Pogues. But tonight, that distance felt different, like there was something he wasn’t telling you.

You spotted him at the bar, leaning back with his arms crossed, his gaze scanning the crowd as he downed a drink. Taking a deep breath, you walked over, determined to get some answers.

“JJ,” you said, softly but firmly as you placed a hand on his arm. He flinched slightly, then turned to look at you, his usual mischievous smile nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hey.” His voice was clipped, and he looked over your shoulder, as if already searching for a way out.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Really talk?”

He sighed, setting his glass down and rubbing the back of his neck. “About what?”

“About us,” you replied. “I want to meet your friends, JJ. I want to be part of that part of your life. We’ve been sneaking around for months now, and I feel like… I don’t know, like I’m just some secret you’re embarrassed about.”

JJ’s face fell, but his jaw tightened defensively. “It’s not about being embarrassed.”

“Then what’s it about?” You kept your gaze steady, even though your heart was pounding. “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just these hidden moments. I want to meet the people who matter to you. I want to know them, and I want them to know me.”

JJ’s eyes darkened, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… complicated, alright?”

“How is it complicated, JJ?” you asked, your voice softening. “I know you. I know that you’re not just some Pogue or some label. I don’t care about any of that Kook-Pogue division. I’m here because I care about you.”

He looked down, his fingers fiddling with his bracelet. “They wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not? Because I’m a Kook?” you pressed, hurt creeping into your tone. “JJ, you know that’s just a label to me. I’m not… I’m not one of them. I’m not my family.”

JJ’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his defenses cracking for just a moment. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back again, a hard edge in his voice. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. They’re my family. They’re the only real family I’ve got, and I don’t want anything messing that up.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of sadness and frustration bubbling up. “So I’d just… mess things up? That’s what you’re saying?”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling to put his feelings into words. Before he could say anything else, someone brushed past you, nearly spilling a drink on your dress, breaking the tension.

JJ took a step back, running a hand through his hair again. “I… I just need some air, alright?”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Hours passed, and the night grew quieter. The gala began to wind down, and you found yourself waiting on the steps, watching each group of guests leave, hoping JJ might come back. You checked your phone repeatedly, but there was no word from him.

You tried not to let it hurt. He was probably with his friends now, probably didn’t even think to call you. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t just keep ignoring this. Something had to change.

Meanwhile, JJ had wandered off, his feet taking him almost automatically to the Boneyard. The familiar glow of the bonfire greeted him, and he felt his shoulders relax a little as he spotted John B., Pope, and Kiara laughing together. Here, with them, he didn’t have to think about labels or boundaries; he was just himself, just JJ.

“Yo, JJ!” John B. called, waving him over. “What are you doing here, man? I thought you were busy with all those rich people tonight.”

JJ forced a grin as he joined them. “Yeah, needed a break from all that. Figured you guys were a little more my style.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That why you’ve been disappearing on us every other night?”

JJ chuckled, trying to play it off. “You know me, man, always got something going on.”

Kiara gave him a knowing look. “Or someone?”

JJ’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shrugging it off. “Maybe, maybe not.”

But as the night wore on and the fire began to die down, his mind kept drifting back to you. To the hurt in your eyes when he’d brushed you off, the way you’d tried so hard to be understanding. Guilt twisted in his chest, and he knew he couldn’t keep hiding this forever.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts, but something held him back. What if they didn’t get it? What if his worlds just couldn’t mix?

He ended up putting his phone away without calling you.

The next morning, you decided you couldn’t wait any longer. You went down to the docks, hoping you’d catch him there. The salty air was cool against your skin as you waited, watching the horizon until you finally saw him approach.

JJ looked surprised to see you, hesitating before stepping closer, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

“Hey,” you replied, studying his face. You could see the shadows under his eyes, the way he looked like he hadn’t slept much. “We need to talk.”

He nodded, glancing down. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “JJ, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being just this… secret. I want more than stolen moments. I want to be part of your life, all of it.”

He swallowed, looking away. “I get it. And… you’re right. You deserve more than that.”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” you asked, voice soft but steady. “What are you so afraid of?”

JJ hesitated, then looked up, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m afraid of losing them. They’re everything to me. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. And… I don’t want to lose you, either.”

You softened, reaching out to take his hand. “JJ, you won’t lose them. And you won’t lose me. You don’t have to choose.”

He held your gaze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he seemed to weigh his options. After a long moment, he sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go meet the Pogues.”

Later that day, you and JJ headed down to the Cut, where John B., Pope, and Kiara were lounging on the HMS Pogue. As JJ led you over, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves, but his hand was warm in yours, steadying you.

John B. noticed you first, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked between you and JJ. “Whoa, JJ, you brought a guest?”

JJ cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “Uh… everyone, this is (Y/N).”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So, this is the girl you’ve been sneaking off with.”

You blushed, but her smile was genuine, and she waved you over. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

Pope grinned, offering you a seat beside him, and John B. patted the edge of the boat. “Welcome to the crew,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight on your heart finally lift as you took your place among the Pogues, hand in hand with JJ. And for the first time, you felt like you truly belonged by his side.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

I’m so excited because I got out of class early and I had time to make sure this ask was ready to go

Let me know if this doesn’t quite make sense, and I’ll try to clarify, but:

—

Jeff seeing/knowing his s/o died in a fight, but seeing them alive and well two years later, obvious they had been alive those two years, but they have no memory of him or any of the time they spent with Jeff. Bonus sad points if they were married or had some sort of matching thing so s/o KNOWS something was up with the two of them, but they don’t remember.

—

Feel free to use this prompt for anyone else you wanna write for :D

I hope you enjoy! This got super extremely long because I was feeling inspired ^^' I hope you're fine with the direction I took this in :)

It destroyed him. Watching you die that day was the most difficult thing he's ever had to cope with in his entire life, and he still struggles to cope with it some days even two years later. He's spent so long mourning your loss, that when he sees you walking around one day he thinks it must be a hallucination or someone that just looks far too similar to you, and he continues on his way. At least, until he hears that incredibly familiar laugh he first fell in love with all those years ago, and he's whipping back around, eyes locked on you as you converse with the unfamiliar person at your side. His feet move immediately, pushing him forward, but at the same time, you happen to drop something. He picks it up for you and hands it to you, and his eyes land on the ring decorating your finger, the one that matches the one on his hand, the custom-made promise rings the two of you had. You accept the item you dropped without complaint, your eyes also noticing the ring on his finger, but before he can say anything you just thank him and walk away.

He's so shocked by it that he just stands there for what feels like hours, before making a beeline back to the mansion. With Slender and BEN's investigative assistance, Jeff learns you didn't die that day, and he also learns that you have no memories of your time before then. You're still in the Underworld, still wandering around and joyful as ever, but you have no memory of him at all, and that thought alone is destroying Jeff all over again. The years you'd spent together, your promises of being together forever, all of your plans for the future, vanished. He finds himself entering an existential state of limbo in the coming weeks, not sure if he should try to find you and reconnect, or if he should just let you carry on your new life as you presently are. In the end, he decides to let you go. With all of his trauma and issues, with all of the struggles you both experienced gone from your memory, he feels as though it would be unfair to force you to learn how to love him and care for him again. You, however, have a completely different plan than Jeff.

It was eating you alive, the ring he was wearing on his finger, the familiarity in his eyes, the disappointment at your swift exit. You had to learn who he was, and how he was connected to you, you finally had a clue to your life before your amnesia and you weren't going to let it pass. It wasn't hard for you to track him down, with how well known he is in the Underworld and the fact that everyone knows he works for Slender, but you also spent time waiting and wondering what you should do. Eventually, you decided on it; you were just going to have to force him to talk to you. So, there you stood, anxiously on the front porch of a mansion that seemed far too familiar for you having no memory of it, and upon the door opening, a group of faces greeting you that were also far too familiar. Slender calls Jeff down and tells him he has a guest waiting outside, and when he comes out to see you, he feels his world halting once again. You both sit on the front porch in silence for quite a while, but you break the ice first, asking him who he is, and why he has your ring. You have a feeling you already know the answer, and when he looks at you in misery, tears flooding his eyes, you know you were right, without him even having to confirm it verbally.

Jeff explains it all to you, everything. How you met, when you started dating, what your relationship was like, all of your plans for the future together, the significance of the rings he had made for you, and most importantly, the day he thought you died. It's a shock to you, of course it is, but bits and pieces of things he says, you can catch small glimpses of them in your lost memories. A night under the stars, mornings spent waking up together, an exchanging of rings. You can catch small glimpses of him, but it feels so far away. It is, however, enough for you to believe him. It feels right, sitting beside him on the steps. It feels warm, and comforting, like you belong there beside him, and when you shyly move your leg to press against his it feels so oddly familiar and correct that you find yourself being moved to tears. He tells you he didn't want to trouble you, didn't want to make you have to deal with his fucked up life and issues all over again, he thought it would be cruel, and you can only smile at him through the tears.

You tell him you have a feeling the you that he knew would be upset at him for even insisting that, and he laughs, saying that you're probably right. Neither of you makes a move to leave, to end your reminiscing as he continues telling you stories, and both of you are okay with that. It's you who finally asks the question weighing on both of you. If you can try again. If you can try from the beginning, try to love him again and become a part of his life again. He smiles a smile that has your heart racing and cheeks growing warm, and lifts your hand, saying he gave you this ring along with a promise to stay by your side for the rest of your life, no matter what. He kisses the ring on your finger, and the brush of his lips makes you long for more. He agrees easily to start over, saying he'll never give up on you, but he can't help the chuckle that follows as he simply requests that you not disappear again, and there on that front porch you make your second eternal promise to each other, that this time you'll protect each other, and stay together no matter what. A promise you both successfully keep, to the end of your lives.

[thefallennightmare]

Oialë-Matt Dierkes x OFC!Faye[JP UNIVERSE]

Oialë: Eternal in Elvish.

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC! Faye[JP UNIVERSE]

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff.

Summary: Matt meets up with Faye at a familiar place.

Authors Note: I wanted to visit these two love birds before the ending of JP. this takes place between chapter 30 and 31!

Tags: @blueskylinesx @artificialbreezy @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurado @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-mee @sorrowsofsilence @xmads-omensx @dominuslunae @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

MATTHEW

“Hey you.” 

Faye’s familiar ethereal voice echoed through the phone as I held it between my shoulder and ear, pulling the front door closed behind me. 

“Hey yourself. I’m just calling to check in on you to see how it’s going?” 

She sighed, the exhaustion heavy in her breath. “Long but we’re getting a lot of good shots. I should be home in an hour. Should I bring something for dinner?” 

Carefully opening the door to my truck, I set everything on the backseat and nodded even though Faye couldn’t see. 

“Sure. I’m good with whatever you want. I’m taking the dogs to the park for a little bit but I’ll  be back before you get home.” 

There was some rustling on her end before she spoke. “Alright, my love. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. I’ve missed you all day.” 

My heart lurched in my throat, feeling the same way. “I missed you too, fairy. It’s been a long week of work for both of us but we have the next four days to ourselves.” 

“Can’t wait,” I could hear the smile in her voice. 

After saying goodbye, I pocketed my phone and hopped behind the wheel, my truck roaring to life. Peering back towards the house, I smirked seeing Boo and Zeus in the window wondering where I was headed without them but then my heart hurt at how sad they looked. 

“I can't do this without them,” I muttered under my breath before running back to the house and grabbing my boys. 

Once they were settled in the truck, I looked at Faye’s location on Life360 and pulled out of the driveway. She’d been down by the pier since 10 a.m this morning photographing a local band. Since Hollow Souls did have much going on lately, Faye had been taking a few side jobs here and there. She’d worked every day this last week and I’d be the first to admit that I missed her like a love sick puppy so I decided to pack us a picnic, grabbed a blanket, and her favorite sweater of mine because I knew she forgot to grab one and she would be cold tonight. 

“She always gets cold,” I chuckled to Boo who was perched on my lap while Zeus was in the backseat. 

I pulled my truck up to the local floral shop and left them there after a quick pep talk. The bell above the door jingled when I walked in, announcing my arrival. Joan, the older lady who ran the shop, gave me a smile. 

“You're two days early for your weekly bouquet!” 

I gave her a sheepish smile while stuffing my hands into the pockets of my joggers. “I know but special circumstances. Any chance you’ve got some blue tulips lying around?” 

Her frail hands tapped the counter before she disappeared into the back area of the shop. A variety of scents filled my senses, causing me to rub my nose. I’d been coming here every day ever since Faye and I started dating to buy her a bouquet of blue tulips. It was so often that Joan began having a bouquet ready for me every Saturday night so Faye could wake up to them Sunday morning. 

“Lucky for you,” Joan appeared behind the counter again with an even larger bouquet of blue tulips than usual. “I had a feeling you’d be coming by tonight. Can’t explain it but I had this ready for you.” 

I took it from her with a bright smile. “Thank you, Joan. Go ahead and charge the card on file double. For the last minute bouquet and for Saturdays when I pick it up this week.” 

“Oh she must be special. Two bouquets in one week?” She teased me. 

I gripped the small box in my pocket. “Really special.”

Once I was back in my truck, the blue tulips resting safely in the front seat, I began driving towards the pier; nerves for tonight making my stomach flutter. This was supposed to happen a month ago but Faye had gotten sick the original night I had planned and with what happened with Noah and Angel, I knew I had to push my plans off for a while until the dust settled. 

More time for me to plan this. 

The pier appeared in a matter of minutes and I was able to find where Faye parked her car so I eased my truck next to hers. I knew she was working down a ways on the beach so I grabbed all of my things and walked down the steps towards the sandy area of the beach, Boo and Zeus following close behind. The sun was setting, bathing the ocean in glitters of orange and yellow hues. Gone were the groups of people that filled the beach for a day in the water and now only a few people lingered around, not enough to be a bother. 

By the time I finished setting up the blankets, pillows, and small picnic, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The dogs were clipped with their leashes but I could always trust that they wouldn’t run far off. 

Faye 🧚‍♂️: All packed up! I was thinking of grabbing some Chinese take out. Does that sound good?

All I sent her was my location pin drop which was a less than three minute walk where she currently was. 

Faye 🧚‍♂️: What’s this?

Faye 🧚‍♂️:  Wait, are you here?

Me: See you soon, fairy. 

Setting my phone on silent, I tossed it onto one of the pillows and stood on the blanket in my socks as I patiently waited for her. One hand was in my pocket while the other held onto the bouquet of tulips. 

I tried to tell myself that there wasn’t a need to be nervous since she already technically gave me her answer over a month ago.

Suddenly a spec of teal appeared a few feet down the beach causing my lips to break out in a wide smile. Tonight, I opted out on wearing a hat and had my hair pulled back into a low bun, wanting to look somewhat presentable for her. 

I still wore a hoodie and sweats. You couldn’t beat those off of me with a stick. 

My breath caught in my throat when I took in the sight of Faye dressed in an orange sundress, the ends blowing in the wind. Her perfect breasts were accentuated by the halter style top, tied together in a bow behind her neck. When she left this morning, her hair was tied back in a braid, thanks to me. But now it brushed over her shoulders in waves. In one hand was her white sandals and the other held her camera bag. 

But my eyes were locked on the Evenstar necklace around her throat. Faye wore it all day, every day, ever since I proposed to her with it a month ago. 

“What are all of my boys doing here?” She asked with a soft smile, Boo and Zeus wagging their tails at her feet. 

I shrugged. “We wanted to surprise you with a picnic on the beach.” 

After dropping her things on the blanket, she stepped into my embrace and pressed a kiss to my lips. When she went to pull away, I held onto the back of her head for a moment longer, wanting to savor the way she tasted. The kiss may have been short but it was enough for me to convey how much I loved her without actually saying it. 

“You’re two days early for your weekly tulip bouquets,” Faye giggled after taking the flowers from me to breathe them in. 

My spine stiffened  as she gazed down at the flowers but relaxed a moment when she gently brought them to her chest. With our fingers linked, Faye pulled me down to the blanket as I spread out the sandwiches and fruit I packed for us while she talked about the shoot. I always watched her with a fond smile whenever she talked about her interests. The other night while she was reading a book, she ran into my office with said book in her hand needing to talk to me about a major plot twist. 

The entire conversation lasted thirty minutes as she rambled on while pacing my office, me watching her with love and light in my eyes. 

“Shit, I’m so fucking cold,” Faye shivered while wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I figured you would be,” I chuckled while handing her the extra hoodie I brought. 

She always drowned in my clothes yet I loved the way she looked. 

Once we finished the food and I cleaned up the mess, I brought Faye closer to my chest so I could breathe in her familiar scent of gardenias. 

“Anything special you want to do this weekend?” I questioned. 

She squeezed my side. “Just you.” 

“I can make that happen,” I hummed, brushing a kiss over her forehead. 

As we sat there in silence watching the waves, Zeus next to me and Boo in her lap, something was eerily familiar about this certain pier. Almost as if I’d been here before but couldn’t pinpoint on when. Slowly but surely, more people started to arrive on the beach with chairs or blankets, making me raise a brow in confusion. 

“I think this is the largest bouquet of blue tulips yet.” 

Faye’s voice brought me back to her and I sat with my hands perched in my lap watching her as she filtered through each stem, getting closer and closer to the rose colored box that was hidden between them. 

“I don’t think we have a big enough vase-,” her voice faltered when her finger finally brushed up against the velvet box. 

My entire body shook with nerves as I silently watched her pull out the box before opening it, her gasp so loud over the pick up of voices around us. Inside the box was an emerald green diamond surrounded by a silver band that looked like branches. 

“Uh,” I cleared my throat. “I know we’re already engaged but I want to give you an actual ring. You deserve to have that.” 

Faye made no move, eyes locked in on the ring, so tentatively I removed it from the box so I could show her the engraving on the inside of the band. 

“Oialë. It means eternal in elvish,” I explained. 

She blinked up at me, eyes wet with tears, and cupped my cheek. “Matthew, you didn’t-.” 

I immediately nodded. “Yes, I did. You deserve an actual engagement ring, Faye.” 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed while I slid the ring on her finger. 

“Did you want me to propose again?” I asked, suddenly nervous that I didn’t think about that. 

“No,” she wiped away at a loose tear, Boo still snuggled in her lap. “I absolutely love how you proposed with the Everstar necklace and nothing could change that. But I also love the ring.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Y/N actually helped me out with it. I was so fucking lost on what looked good and what size you were so I had her meet me before she shot the Just Pretend music video.” 

Faye couldn’t take her eyes off her ring, the faintest of smiles on her lips. If there weren’t a group of people around us, I’d lay her back on the blanket to connect our souls together. 

Too bad that’s already been done before. 

“I love it. And you. So fucking much,” Faye kissed my cheek. “I’ll show you my thanks later tonight.” 

Crimson covered my cheeks as I glanced around us, suddenly very angry at myself for deciding to do this in public. 

“Are you alright if I tell the group chat?” I asked while holding up my phone. 

Faye, who had her phone in her hand, gave me a sheepish look which caused me to snort. 

“You already told them.” 

“I couldn’t help it! I had to show them,” she defended while holding out her hand to snap another picture of the ring. 

Bringing her close to me again, the sky above us broke out in loud and bright sparks; fireworks lighting up the sky. Suddenly I remembered why this setting was so familiar. It was because I’d been here with everyone two years ago to the day when Noah and Angel were sitting not too far from here. 

“Small world,” I smiled before making sure Zeus and Boo were alright with the fireworks. 

Thankfully they seemed alright but decided that after another minute we would pack up and leave so they weren’t too stressed out. I just couldn’t stop admiring the way Faye looked while watching the fireworks. 

Breaking away from the trance, I checked my phone to scroll through all the new messages in the group chat. 

Noah Seb: So that’s why Matt and Y/N were so sneaky last month. We’re so happy for you guys. Y/N is sitting next to me crying because she can’t get over how gorgeous the ring is. 

Davis Rider: Maybe she should have bought one for herself. 

Noah responded with the annoyed emoji right before another one from him came through. 

Noah Seb: Don’t forget your flight leaves Tuesday at noon, Matt. Think you guys will make it or will be too busy celebrating? 

That caused me to scoff as I replied. 

Me: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mochi. 

He replied with the middle finger emoji. 

Zeus started getting restless next to me so I motioned to Faye that we should probably head back home. 

After we were all packed up, I linked fingers with her and brought the ring to my lips, peppering it in kisses. 

“I love you, Faye,” I proclaimed. 

She cupped my cheek. “I love you too, Matthew Dierkes. For Oialë.”

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Azerbajian GP Weekend

Masterlist

Thursday had arrived, and so had the media frenzy. It was the traditional pre-race press day, and the interview room was buzzing with journalists and cameras ready to capture every word and reaction. I was scheduled for a multi-driver interview, paired with Franco, Carlos, Max, and Oscar—a mix of veterans and rookies, all bringing their own energy to the room. I was feeling confident, prepared to answer whatever questions were thrown my way, until I noticed a few familiar faces among the journalists—faces I remembered from whispers in the paddock.

After a few light-hearted questions aimed at Carlos and Max, the interview shifted gears when a well-known journalist turned to me with a sharp look in his eyes.

“So, Y/N,” he began, voice dripping with a tone that already felt accusatory, “there’s been a lot of talk about your rapid rise to F1, especially after missing significant time in F2. Some might say that… connections or publicity stunts might be part of the story here rather than pure skill.” He leaned back, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you say to people who think you’re here for PR reasons, rather than merit?”

My stomach clenched, but I kept my face calm. This was it—the subtle way they were calling me out, questioning if I was here because of talent or if I was just a “diversity hire” in a sport still catching up with the times. I could feel the tension in the room rise as Carlos and Max glanced at me, both of them experienced enough to know what it was like to be grilled by the press.

I took a deep breath, feeling Franco’s reassuring presence beside me. He shot me a quick nod, like he was silently encouraging me to respond.

“Well,” I began, keeping my voice calm and steady, “I think every driver here has something to prove. Racing is about results, and I’m fully prepared to show what I’m capable of on the track. I know there’s a lot of speculation, and it’s natural—every driver faces it at some point. I’m here because I’ve earned this seat. And I’ll keep proving that every weekend.”

The journalist wasn’t done. He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Still, disappearing for months mid-season in F2 and then suddenly being ready to jump into F1… it does raise some eyebrows. Care to elaborate on where you were?”

My heart raced. Memories flooded in—of the sleepless nights by my mother’s side, of the last few precious moments we shared. I felt the urge to defend myself, to tell the whole story right there, but I knew better. I took another breath, holding my smile steady.

“As my former team and I have always said, I was undergoing extensive training to prepare for the reserve role I’d committed to with Aston Martin. My team has full confidence in me, and that’s all the focus I’m giving it,” I replied, keeping my tone professional. I felt proud of my answer, but I could tell the journalist was disappointed by my restraint.

Max jumped in, breaking the tension with his classic cool-headedness. “You know, there are always rumors about all of us. It’s all just noise until we’re on track, isn’t it?”

The journalist backed off slightly, though I could tell he wasn’t convinced. Franco shot me a supportive look, mouthing a quick “Nice one” as the attention moved to another driver. I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay composed. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of all the reasons I was here.

After the interview wrapped up, Franco walked over and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Forget him. That was out of line. You handled it well.”

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice a bit shaky. “I just didn’t expect that to hit so hard, you know?”

He nodded, his eyes kind. “I know. But you showed them that you belong here. Keep doing that, and everyone else will see it too.”

As we left the interview room, Franco nudged me, a curious look in his eyes. "Did you notice how quickly Max jumped in? It’s like he was standing up for you."

I shrugged, glancing back at the room we’d just left. "I don’t know if it was for me specifically," I replied. "Max just seems to hate when journalists get too personal. He probably saw the question as crossing a line. He’s always been a no-nonsense guy."

Franco didn’t seem convinced. "Maybe, but... he didn’t have to say anything at all. A lot of other drivers wouldn’t." He paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. "Look, I’ve been around these drivers a while now, and I know how they talk. I think Max might be one of the few drivers who’s actually looking at what you do on track, not paying attention to those rumors.”

I hesitated, not sure how to process that. “Maybe,” I conceded. “But why would he? He doesn’t know me.”

“Maybe he’s seen the work you’re putting in,” Franco said thoughtfully. “He knows what it’s like to face doubt—he started young too. Besides,” he added, “Max respects hard work. He wouldn’t have stood up for you if he didn’t think you’ve earned your place.”

I wanted to believe Franco, but I couldn’t help being skeptical. “You might be giving him too much credit,” I said. “Honestly, I still think it was more about hating the question than defending me.”

Franco laughed. “Maybe you’re right. Max isn’t exactly Mr. Empathy. But I think he respects that you’ve been keeping your head down and just focusing on racing. People who’ve been on the grid longer can spot real talent, and he wouldn’t bother standing up for you if he didn’t see something there.”

I looked down, smiling to myself. The thought that Max might see past all the gossip and actually believe in my abilities was… a little surreal. But if Franco was right, it meant something. "You know," I said quietly, "maybe that’s enough for now. If I can prove myself to someone like Max, maybe that’s all I need to do for the rest to start paying attention."

Franco nodded. “Exactly. Let them talk. Just keep showing up on track and doing what you do best. You’re already turning heads, whether they admit it or not.”

We walked on in comfortable silence after that, both of us aware that this race weekend would be another chance. Another shot to show everyone—including myself—that I had a place here, no matter who questioned it. 

We parted ways minutes later, Franco being asked to return to his garage for a filming session between him and Alex. I decided to walk around the paddock a bit more —given that most if not every interviewer was in the interview room right now— I had a chance to relax by myself with a nice little undisrupted wandering walk. It didn’t last long however before I was seemingly cornered by the same man who had stood up for me before. Max Verstappen had spotted me from across the paddock and beelined his way right towards me. 

I froze for a moment, a bit caught off guard. Max was one of the last people I expected to seek me out, especially after that brief encounter in the interview room. He was known for being straightforward, but also for keeping to himself, so seeing him walk toward me like this felt... unexpected.

As he approached, I straightened up, unsure of what to say. Max had that usual intense focus in his eyes, but his expression didn’t seem as cold as it often did. He came to a stop in front of me, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual but direct. "How are you holding up?"

I blinked, momentarily surprised by the question. "I’m good," I replied quickly, forcing a small smile. “Why do you ask?”

Max looked around the paddock, as if checking to make sure no one else was nearby. When he turned back to me, he spoke a little lower. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not letting the stuff they’re saying get to you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What stuff?”

He shrugged, his expression softening a little. “The gossip. The rumors. People are always going to talk, especially when there’s something new, or something they don’t understand.” He paused for a second, looking at me seriously. “But you’ve been doing well. I can see it.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was... unexpected, to say the least. Max wasn’t exactly the type to give out compliments, let alone stand up for someone in public, especially someone like me. The fact that he was acknowledging it so openly made me second-guess a lot of my assumptions about him.

"Thanks," I said, my voice more tentative than I intended. "I appreciate it."

Max nodded. "I know how it feels to be judged before you even get the chance to show what you can do. It’s not easy." He paused again, and then, almost like an afterthought, added, "If you need someone to talk to or whatever, don’t hesitate."

I was caught off guard once more. Max Verstappen, offering to talk?

"Uh, thanks," I replied, this time more confidently. "I think I’ll be alright, but it’s good to know."

He gave me a small nod, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “Good. Keep your head up, alright? They’ll respect you, eventually. Just keep showing up.”

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there a little dumbfounded. The last thing I expected was for Max Verstappen to go out of his way to check on me, but now I was left wondering if there was more to him than just the hard-as-nails racer everyone saw on TV. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as the rumors made him out to be either.

BIG TIME SKIP 

After Qualifying, I couldn’t help but smile—P10! I’d made it into the top 10, just behind Franco who had secured P9. We were both on cloud nine and decided to grab dinner together to celebrate. We were walking out of the paddock, laughing and joking, when I suddenly heard someone shout Franco’s name.

“Franco! Where are you going?” Lando’s voice rang out across the busy paddock.

Both Franco and I turned, surprised. We saw Lando and Oscar jogging toward us, the latter giving me a fleeting glance. Lando, on the other hand, didn’t spare me a single glance. His eyes were locked on Franco, his tone sharp.

Franco, clearly still riding the high of a great qualifying result, gave him a friendly wave. “Hey, just heading out to grab some dinner. Want to join us?”

Oscar’s eyes lingered on me for a brief moment, and I could swear I saw something akin to pity flicker across his face, but it disappeared so quickly that I couldn’t be sure. Lando, however, didn’t acknowledge me at all, his gaze still glued to Franco.

“I’m good,” Lando replied curtly, his tone flat. “We’ll catch up later. But I’ve heard... you two are quite the topic today.”

Franco shot me a quick glance, clearly uncomfortable, but said nothing as Lando’s words hung in the air. I could feel his eyes shift between me and Franco, clearly sizing up the situation. The tension was palpable, and I knew exactly what he was referring to. The rumors.

“So, uh, what’s it like?” Lando continued, his voice now almost too casual, his gaze flicking over to me. “Being the new face around here, with all the... stories going around?”

Oscar, standing silently at Lando’s side, seemed content to watch the exchange, though his eyes flicked to me, then back to Lando. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was headed.

I wasn’t sure if Lando was looking for confirmation or if he was trying to provoke a reaction, but either way, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. The judgment in his tone wasn’t subtle, and I wasn’t about to let it slide.

“Stories?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow as I turned toward him. “What kind of stories?”

Lando shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by my question, but he quickly recovered. “You know,” he said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “The whole... why you suddenly disappeared from F2, then came in and replaced Stroll and all that. Guess people are curious and there are a lot of people willing to tell their stories to fill that gap in.”

Oscar’s eyes darted between us, a slight frown tugging at his lips, but he said nothing. I could see the judgment in Lando’s face now, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I’m not here to entertain gossip,” I replied, my voice steady but firm. “I don’t know where these ‘stories’ came from, but you’re feeding into them just like everyone else. How about you let me speak for myself? Maybe then you’ll get the real story.”

Franco opened his mouth to speak, likely trying to defuse the situation, but I held up a hand to stop him. I wasn’t going to let Lando get away with it.

“If you really think that just because of my background in this sport, you’re going to judge me on rumors instead of what I can do on track,” I said, my tone cutting through the air, “then maybe you should reconsider how much you actually know from sources that don’t include bias perspectives.”

Lando’s face twitched, and for a moment, I could see the flicker of realization in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being called out so directly. But he wasn’t backing down either.

“Look, I didn’t mean—” he started, but I cut him off sharply, my tone colder than before.

“No, you didn’t mean it,” I snapped, my eyes narrowing. “But you’re still doing it. So maybe before you speak about things you clearly know nothing about, you should think twice. Because I’m not here to be the subject of your gossip.”

The air between us grew tense, and the silence stretched on. Oscar, who had been quietly observing, exchanged a glance with Lando but stayed silent. I could feel the weight of Lando’s eyes on me, but I refused to back down.

“Is that really how it’s going to be?” I asked, my voice hard. “You think you can just judge me based on some rumor mill nonsense without even knowing me? Maybe you should consider that there’s more to me than whatever the hell people want to say about my past. What happens on track is all that should matter. But if you’re still buying into that crap, then maybe you’re not the person I thought you were.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, and I could tell that I had struck a nerve. He didn’t immediately respond, instead glancing at Oscar, who now had a slightly concerned look on his face. Lando shifted on his feet, clearly unsure of how to respond to someone calling him out so forcefully.

“I get it, alright?” Lando muttered, but there was no real sincerity in his voice. “But you’ve got to admit, there’s a lot of speculation.”

I rolled my eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside me. “Speculation is exactly what it is. And it’s none of your business, Lando. What matters is that I’m here, racing, and proving myself every time I get behind the wheel. Maybe if you focused more on that, you’d see it for what it is, instead of judging me based on some stupid rumors.”

I paused for a moment, letting the silence linger between us before I spoke again, my voice sharpening. “And honestly, with all the rumors floating around that you’re a big fan of Trump after some of the things you’ve said in Miami? I’m not surprised you’re so quick to jump on the bandwagon and believe whatever fits the narrative. It’s easier to go along with what the media says, right? But I don’t listen to that stuff. I judge people by their actions, not by what the tabloids want to spin. You don’t know me, Lando, so stop acting like you do.”

I could see him bristle at my words, and for a moment, I could tell that what I said hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t about defending myself anymore—it was about standing up for the idea that I wouldn’t let others define me, especially when they hadn’t bothered to get to know the real me.

Lando’s expression flickered, a mix of frustration and something else—something I couldn’t quite place—passing across his face. For a moment, he was silent, clearly trying to process what I had just said. But I could tell I had made him think, even if just for a brief second.

He didn’t immediately apologize, which told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t ready to back down yet. But I wasn’t done.

“Just stop hiding behind your assumptions, Lando,” I added, my voice firm. “It’s not a good look. You can’t just brush off people based on things you hear when there’s no real truth to it. It’s lazy, and frankly, it’s disappointing.”

Lando stood there, looking caught off guard by my directness. He wasn’t apologizing, not really. But I could see that I had planted a seed. Maybe it would take a while for him to truly get it, but at least for now, I had made my point. And I wasn’t about to let anyone walk over me—especially not when I knew I was capable of so much more than the rumors said.

“I... didn’t realize it was that big of a deal,” he said, his voice a little quieter now. “I’m just trying to keep up with everything going on around here.” “Well, try harder,” I shot back, my tone biting. “Because if you can’t see past the rumors, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

With that, I turned away, my heart still racing with anger. I didn’t want his apology, not really. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s approval. But I wasn’t going to let anyone make me feel small just because they couldn’t look beyond what they heard. I walked away, leaving Lando and Oscar to whatever thoughts they were processing, knowing that I had made myself clear.

Franco, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave me an approving smile as I returned to his side. I didn’t need to look back to know that the tension between Lando and me wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon. But that was fine by me. It was time for me to prove myself on the track, and if Lando and the others had to learn the hard way, so be it.

[robolvrr]

Hi! I’m 19 just to clarify in case of anything.

Can I request HCS for TFA Optimus and Megatron with a childish human female reader, that basically yaps a lot and is energetic asf?

I was also wondering if you could make a NSFW version too? Tysm☺️🙏💕

hey non! gladly. 🤖

nsfw under the cut.

all charged up! ⊰⁠⊹ฺ⚡

tfa! optimus & megatron headcanons for a childish/energetic reader (fem! human)

"no, don't touch that. wh -- no, don't touch that either! oh, by the allspark, hellooo!"

optimus prime

remember when i said optimus stressed out protecting humanity?

yeah, this was primarily the source of why.

he's always got tons of responsibility placed on his shoulders.

his team, for one, is always managing to get themselves into trouble and while he cares for them deeply, he's gonna start gaining faceplate dents like ratchet.

so when you get fumbled in the crew? he thinks that maybe karma is out to get him from some past transgression.

"can i touch that?"

"no."

"how about.. this!"

"wh-- no. are you trying to lose one of those things?"

"fingers?"

"not the point. it's an axe, not a toy."

he chides you just like everyone else out of love.

if he didn't care (which just isn't in his circuits, is there a rusted piston anywhere in that heroic frame?) he'd let you go wild.

when the threat of death isn't looming though?

finds your characteristics to be rather charming. he is after all familiar with bee and the twins and sari.

you have a strange way of encouraging him to relax, believe it or not. remind him life isn't just work and balancing the universe in his servos.

when he isn't in a mood, he likes to listen to you ramble.

you have a unique perspective. like how you talk to him for hours about how you thought ghosts were real and ask silly questions about his culture like "do you guys eat rocks?"

he goes to you the most to consult about earth.

hyperfixations? he may not understand a lick of yours or just what "my little pony was and how it changed the internet for years to come", but he lets you animatedly describe every thought on every inch of your brain.

let's you sit on his shoulders.

similar to your planet, you've gotten him warmed up to you.

"just how much longer do you plan on prattling, little one?"

megatron

he's mean.

i mean, what do you expect from an galactic warlord?

not to say he doesn't find amusement in the behavior. his lackeys frequently argue and get into ridiculous situations and arguments on a cycles basis.

however, he doesn't like organics. given his predicament, fiending without the power of a frame to push his narratives for so long builds resentment.

at first he finds you an absolute nuisance. you were really a comment away from having shockwave get a hold of you instead.

he's kidnapped you from the autobots because similar to that meddlesome doctors offspring, they clearly hold high regards for you.

you just didn't stop talking.

yes, you got the large glass jar treatment.

yes, he did rattle it once when you asked him if "decepticons sounded like band name."

when he's feeling boredom, he'll demand you try to say anything interesting.

he holds little regard to your feelings. though he does find the need, almost craving, for you to constantly be restless.... somewhat entertaining.

think of how one looks at a mangy mutt. (isn't he a gentlemech?!)

nsfw.

optimus prime

"hahhh.. hff. just h-how long can you keep up this pace, haha!?"

you have the libido of a bunny.

optimus learns the hard way, when you first start to get intimate.

interfacing with you is never slow. it's why he has to concentrate every control filter to not slamming into you when you claw at his array and whine at him to stop being a bully.

you're eager -- you both are -- but he finds your wandering hands to be almost overwhelming as you just can't keep still.

you ask him lots and lots of questions. how big is he? can you lick his valve? are those fluids toxic? do you need to get protection?

his helm is hot to the touch. he ends up putting his digit in your mouth as a distraction.

he's about to correct you but of course, you're talking. his audials are close to setting on fire.

you shove yourself on his spike and he bites his dermas hard, because you're just so eager and he's way too big. just the tip is enough to create a bulge at your mound and suddenly, his intake feels very, very dry.

you're so talkative. too talkative.

"ha... mmn! your spike is so, so good! i-i can't believe i'm doing this! sex with a giant. ahn! robot!!! this is the best day of my life!"

his optics are burning and bright. your excitement drips down his shaft.

when the compliments get to be too much, he ends up grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind you, bouncing your body against his hips.

he silences you a lot with kisses. not out of annoyance (though sometimes you do get too loud and he's not trying to risk waking up the entire base), but because you fluster him so damn bad.

when he overloads and you're squealing, he lifts you up just to see the sticky transfluid roll down your ankles.

".... another round?"

"another!?"

megatron

"not so chatty now, are you little one?"

megatron's cruelty does not stop at the berthroom.

his way of dealing with your nonstop buzzing? is to simply frag it out of you.

it's painfully indulgent. you're the size of nothing compared to him, a behemoth of a being outside your comprehension. he treats you like a sleeve.

you ask the stupid notion if maybe he needed to get his frustration out in a more "fun" way.

then maybe he wouldn't be so gloomy all the time!

the look he gives is terrifying. that smile isn't helping either....

all that energy and innocent glee? he plans on putting to good use.

now, he finds your cherub nature enchanting. how you whine and chirp out silly protests, huffing how he's just a "big, bad meanie" and you were gonna "make him regret it, so help it!"

"yesss, yesss. cry harder, little human."

takes you from behind so he can stick a single digit in the pocket of your cheek. you loll your tongue out in a way he finds appealing and stupid.

when you go on rambles amidst his planning, primarily when you are bored and lonely, don't be surprised if he opens his panels at your chin and pops it in between your lips.

"am... i... ffff.. a-am i gonna get pregnant with your little ro--"

"don't finish that imbecilic question unless you want this to be the last time, girl."

megatron's human concubine. there's a first time in history for everything, after all.

deep down? he doesn't want you to change a bit. he rather likes breaking you down.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hey! You probably have already been asked this question- and I know you’ll probably never see this- but I’ve been thinking about this and curious about this lately, uh-

What are all the things killer went through during his time under the control of his frisk? Both cannon and head-cannon? I have a few head-cannons myself but am really curious what others think and what the cannon is!

It’s okay if not answered, am just a curious soul wondering about stuff-

Well, first, it wasn’t his Frisk he was under the control of—Frisk is actually hardly mentioned in Something New outside of the first few panels of the first page of the comics, and Killer saying he misses stabbing Frisk’s face when asked if he missed Frisk.

It was Chara, and the Player—basically one and the same in Something New, even if Chara the dead child potentially wants something more. All the Player ever really wants from Killer’s existence is something new, after all. Chara’s the one who wanted a partner in crime.

As for what happened between them, the fun part is—we don’t actually canonically know. We can make guesses based on the beginning, when Killer turned on them, and some things based on after they ended—how Killer still sees them and hears them and listens to them, how he feels watched by them constantly, as if they’re living inside him.

This tells me just how codependent their relationship was—and how scared and powerless Killer feels beneath them, even as he feels he needs them and that he still has to listen to them, even if he doesn’t want to—even as he struggles to realize that he doesn’t want to, because he wants what They want.

Even if he has a new “master” now in the form of Nightmare. It tells me that Chara’s wants and priorities and needs have always taken priority over anything and anyone else—especially Killer himself.

It’s like..how a baby doesn’t realize they are separate from their mother for the first few months of their life. Except Killer never truly realized that he is separate from them. Or that they are separate from him. He has internalized them, and in many ways, has become them. Something he struggles to make sense of.

Killer doesn’t know who he is or what he is, what he wants—if he wants anything at all. He doesn’t know what is or isn’t real—why he feels and behaves about certain things. Why everything both does and doesn’t feel familiar, and yet still he is always just separate.

Chara provided directions. They represent identity and direction and stability, certainty and structure. They scare him and hurt him and confuse him, and he hates them and fears them in equal measure, but no one has understood him like them. Not even himself.

I’m sure he also didn’t use to understand why he was ever scared of or disobedient of Chara before—if something ever triggered him into Stage 1, such as his own hesitance to kill Papyrus. Stage 2 may not have held the same emotional ties to Chara that Stage 1 does or hold the same anger and hate that Stage 3 does or the fear and reverence that Stage 4 does; but it wasn’t like he knew anything else besides them with certainty.

He knew he needed them. He didn’t know fully why, he just did. He could try to explain why but it’d be through the lens of what Chara taught him: control or be controlled, the most Determined decide fate, etc.

He holds on these contradictory views and experiences with Chara, likely dissociated and compartmented into his four Stages, but all just as true as eachother.

They made him. He exists because of the Player, sure, but Chara basically raised him. The Player speaks through them, they act on our behalf. There may even be no difference between Chara and God in his mind in Stage 4.

And try as he might, he can’t pry their pieces out of him.

All of it suggests heavy levels of manipulation, conditioning, gaslighting, dependency, and abuse to me. The specifics aren’t said or shown or even confirmed, but the fact that out of all his shadowy hallucinations of everyone he’s killed—living in his head—Chara’s the only one who’s more than a shadow and has sway over his choices seems to say something about their relationship.

Anyway, a lot of things could’ve likely happened when he was with Chara. Who knows how long they were together—Killer likely doesn’t know. How many timelines they went through together.

I do like to think that there was an entire timeline where Killer and Chara overthrew Asgore and ruled the Underground themselves at some point, because Princess Killer and Killer being conditioned through royal etiquette is an idea I love. I also think he was conditioned through childhood nursery rhymes, games, gestures, and sayings that are loaded with specific meanings that only Chara and Killer themselves know. Their own little language.

I think Chara gave Killer Asriel’s golden locket, to basically make Killer into the better “Asriel.” I do believe he was often threatened and kept in line through the use of the Reset—something Killer, back when he was Sans, hated and dreaded more anything.

(And by that I mean, he was either threatened with a Reset if he didn’t do something, or forced to repeat something over and over through the use of the Reset until he either did it perfectly or without thinking or hesitation. Until any attempts to resist results in an instinctive overriding of his own will via the triggering of Stage 4.)

That original sentiment was likely twisted over time, but still present in some shape or form—such as the need for something new, and to not constantly do the same thing over and over again, even as paradoxically, Killer has a tendency to do the same things over and over again thanks to the role of the Resets in his conditioning.

I’ve made a post before about like, Chara and Killer making the killing into something like hunting games, can’t find it. But I like to think there was a punishment-reward system that Killer internalized as well, especially in Stage 4.

I’ve mentioned before how i hc that Killer and Chara had a pinky swear system that could never be broken under threat of grievous harm to whichever party breaks the promise—and as a result any promises made via pinky swears with Killer from absolutely anyone is basically the same as signing away your right to live if you ever break it.

I’ve mentioned how I think the one death Killer has never experienced before is buttercup poisoning. But basically, anything you think could happen has possibly happened, except ya know..weird stuff.

Reality is a game, and the Underground is their sandbox.

[ficxworm]

Finding the Words

Pairing: Castiel x Dean Winchester

Tags: I don’t even know what to tag this as. I wrote this a few days ago in a desperate attempt to pretend the end of the show never happened.🙃

The bunker was quiet, heavy with an emptiness that lingered in every corner. Dean sat alone in the library, hunched over a half-empty whiskey bottle and a pile of unfinished research. He’d been drowning out the silence with work, but nothing could fill the void left by Castiel’s absence. Nothing could fill the ache of those last words Cas had left him with: “I love you, Dean.” He hadn’t had time to respond, hadn’t known what to say. By the time he did, it was too late.

Or so he thought.

A familiar flutter of wings filled the air, and Dean’s heart leapt. He stood slowly, the bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud, spilling across the concrete.

“Dean,” came the voice—low, steady, and achingly familiar.

Dean’s breath caught. He turned, and there he was. Castiel, standing in the doorway of the library, looking just as he had before he left. Maybe a little tired, a little worn, but real.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was thick with disbelief, and he could feel his hands start to shake.

“It’s me,” Castiel said, his lips curving into the smallest, warmest smile. “I’m here.”

Dean crossed the room in a few quick strides, grabbing Castiel’s coat as if to make sure he was real. “Cas, how—how did you…?”

“I fought my way back,” Castiel murmured, his eyes softening. “The Empty let me go, but only because I needed to be here. With you.”

Dean swallowed, his chest tightening with emotions he’d kept locked down for too long. He tried to think of something, anything to say, but all he could manage was, “I thought I’d lost you.”

Castiel reached up, his hand resting on Dean’s shoulder, grounding him. “I couldn’t leave things the way they were, Dean. Not after… not after what I told you.”

Dean’s eyes stung, but he forced himself to meet Cas’s gaze, swallowing hard. “Cas, when you said that to me… I didn’t say it back. I didn’t get to.”

Castiel’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Dean let out a shaky breath, one hand still clutching Cas’s coat, as if he’d disappear if he let go. “Well, you should have. Because, Cas, I…” He paused, his throat tightening as he searched for the words he’d buried for so long. “I love you, too.”

The words fell between them, raw and unguarded. Castiel’s face softened, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to reach into Dean’s soul. “Dean…”

Dean didn’t let him finish. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to Cas’s, his hands tightening on his shoulders. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say it. I was scared. But I’m done running from this—from you.”

Castiel closed his eyes, his own hand lifting to cup the side of Dean’s face. “You don’t have to run anymore.”

In the quiet of the bunker, Dean leaned in, his lips meeting Castiel’s in a kiss that was both soft and filled with a lifetime of unspoken promises. They stood there, wrapped up in each other, finding strength in a truth they’d both fought so hard to find.

When they finally pulled apart, Dean kept Cas close, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re not going anywhere again. You hear me?”

Castiel smiled, a quiet certainty in his eyes. “I hear you, Dean. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Dean felt at peace. They were both finally where they belonged—together, in a world that had finally let them find each other.

[legomonkiefics]

Hello! I hope you’re doing good! I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but I got an idea for a fluff (possibly a pinch of angst?) scenario!:

Any, all or two of the traffic light trio sillies (Mei, Red Son, MK), with an s/o GN!reader that’s an experienced healer who takes care of them after a tough battle against a monster of your choosing. Maybe they have a heartfelt conversation afterwards, or during the process of patching them up, about getting themselves in danger for the sake of saving the world? 👀

Been thinking a lot about this since s5 lmao. Haven’t fully recovered yet 💀

🍜💛 Healing a Trio —🐉💚 Traffic Light Trio x GN Healer!Reader HCs 🔥❤️

Genres: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜🐉🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ . ݁˖

- It had been a fight with a huge hawk demon, one that MK was pretty confident he could take, especially cause Mei could use her bike to move closer to the threat. Red Son was roped in by circumstance, begrudgingly working with the heroes to defeat the threat. The attack was a surprise, so there wasn't much the Trio was prepared to do. Once it finally ended, they were sufficiently scratched, scuffed, battered, and bruised

- The three had come to you a little hesitantly. They didn't like feeling like they were bothering you, especially because these always ended in some deep conversations about the nature of self-sacrafice and priorities. When you'd opened your door to the three and allowed them in without many questions, they filed in, MK and Mei attempting lighthearted jokes right off the bat to diffuse tension

- MK, for as much as he gets hurt, sucks at getting patched up. He hisses and writhes if the topical medicine stings, yelping and whining at the unpleasant sensations. He's a very dramatic patient, but a very talkative one as well

- He tells you about the fight, reassuring you that he already remembers the conversations you'd both had before about these things. He's not exactly happy having to sit still while getting bandaids and bandages applied, but he's obviously still proud of his victory

- He's more quiet when you're closer, focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle and reliable touch providing a sense of safety and warmth. He feels his heart swell seeing the determined expression you have while working, and little flutters when you occasionally banter back. This routine between you was familiar, it was comforting. He felt safe under your care

- Mei, meanwhile, is also a pretty passionate speaker, but much less of a whiner than MK. Her problems are mostly just squirming from being hyperactive and wound up on adrenaline, frequently trying to hop off of your workbench to demonstrate a move

- Your gentle chastising with Mei is unique, specifically taking time to address how she feels being on the sideline of missions these days, and having to hold things together for MK most of the time. She feels like she can have that full honesty with you, your complete confidentiality and understanding helping to hold her together

- She flirts with you more openly than the other two. Any time you're close enough, she points out something about your face to compliment. She offers to help you do small things, asking questions about your job and what kinda stuff you see outside of the Monkey Crew

- Red Son, like the others, is a talker. His ramblings are closer to ranting and raving, and outside of waving his arms or doing grand dramatic gestures, he's more still than the other two

- Conversations about his family are what come up most often, when he isn't bragging about his villainy or latest attacks on the town. More recently he's been talking a lot about working as a food vendor. It's nice to see him happy about something that doesn't come from malicious intent

- He allows himself to show past his anger and be more vulnerable with you. He's a hint softer, a little more willing to be honest and open with you. He loves your willingness to do this for them, and he tells you frequently how much he admires you and your work

- The three usually stick around for a few hours after each appointment, talking with you and telling you about everything you my have missed in their lives. They treasure their individual time with you, and Mei and MK especially try to hype you up all the time to show their thanks

- They invite you out every once in a while to have some hangouts without medicine or injury in the picture. They introduce you as a vital member of the team to others and get protective of you during battles

[vulpiximisa]

reading bthp fic and man I’m really glad bede’s seiyuu (nagatsuka takuma) is so perfect for him

I don’t mind yuko sanpei for hop but I think I prefer his anime seiyuu (yoshinaga takuto) more.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I think someone put the brain of a mouse or maybe a squirrel inside my head at some point because all winter I was like “I crave nuts and seeds” and now that it’s getting warmer and brighter out my brain keeps going “it’s fruit time”

Like, modern transportation has made it possible to move many fruits all over the world (in theory) all the time! But the primal early plesiadapiform part of my brain is like “you must eat what is available this season”

[magical-xirl-4]

Thinking about Rukkhadevata’s design again in Genshin and how fucking bleak it is. It makes me upset because after Nahida was leaked, I thought the ORIGINAL Dendro Archon was going to look completely different and take actual inspiration from SWANA, because to me she was the TRUE Dendro Archon. I was looking forward to her so much, only to be dismayed when I realised Nahida is the actual Archon, and especially broken up about how Rukkhadevata looked. She is just… nothing. She’s beautiful, sure. But she’s just. Nothing.

She didn’t even have to be that pale!! Nahida/Kusanali (can’t remember which name) is said to be very pale in mythology which, okay fine, make her pale, BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ORIGINAL AND HER PREDECESSOR? SHE DIDN’T NEED TO LOOK LIKE A GROWN VERSION OF HER OMG.

[deathsmallcaps]

Ok when I reblogged this last night, I picked 3rd because that’s what I’ve heard, but I also said maybe a little bit #4? Because at the time I thought ‘well something not really mattering to you = a sort of rejection” so I was a little confused as to how they were separate options?

And then when I woke up and I saw this I remembered that the ‘rejection’ idea was an antisemitic talking point. As in supposedly you saw the undeniable truth of Jesus and were like nah.

So I’m not sure how else it could’ve been worded - it was quickly visible to me after a good night’s sleep - but I wonder how many other people were thinking similarly to me when they picked #4, and how many are genuinely antisemitic. But I hope there’s just a lot of confused people.

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[unintentional-sad-wizard]

Hehehehehe the pieces are starting to fall into place for me to get a dog soonish! Timing is still the main obstacle. I have a couple of trips scheduled for this summer that aren’t dog-friendly and are nearly back-to-back in late June and early July, so I’m trying to work around that. I have a solid support system of people who can take care of a dog when I’m out of town, but I would want the dog to get a decent amount of time to settle in and bond with me before disrupting things by leaving for a trip. I also have a handful of shorter camping trips and such scattered throughout July, which would be dog-friendly, but I’d also worry about those being overwhelming for a brand-new dog. Which basically means that I either need to get a dog within the next month, or wait until August. Aaaaaaa