#oh my god i can't wait for this to be over

[amirasainz]

Hi! I love your blog!! Can I request a female driver x f1 grid, where she gets her first win and all the drivers are so happy for her as she’s the paddock princess, maybe when she’s doing her interviews many drivers come over to her and congratulate her and they talk highly of her in their interviews too? Thank u, keep up the amazing work!!💗

Ohh, that is such a sweet idea. This one made my heart melt.🫠❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

The first victory

The sun hung low over the track, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange as the final lap of the race came to a thrilling conclusion. The Aston Martin car, gleaming in its iconic green, roared down the straightaway with unmatched speed. All eyes were on Y/N, the team's rising star and the paddock's beloved princess. As she crossed the finish line, the world erupted with cheers.

"Y/N wins her first race!" the commentator's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "What a sensational performance! Y/N takes her maiden victory, and it's Aston Martin on top!"

Inside her cockpit, Y/N could hardly believe it. She was overwhelmed with a rush of adrenaline, relief, and sheer joy. Her radio buzzed with the jubilant voice of her race engineer, Michaela.

"Y/N, you did it! You won! That was incredible! You are a race winner!"

Y/N couldn't contain her emotions. "Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it! Thank you so much, team! The car was perfect today. I can't believe this!" Her voice broke with happy tears as she crossed the finish line.

As she pulled into parc fermé, she could already see the sea of green uniforms waiting for her. The Aston Martin crew, usually composed and professional, was now a mass of cheering, fist-pumping celebration. She parked her car and clambered out, pulling off her helmet to reveal her beaming face. The noise was deafening; her team surrounded her, lifting her onto their shoulders as if she were royalty.

"Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, their pride and admiration radiating.

Michaela, her race engineer, hugged her tightly. "You were flawless out there. Absolutely flawless."

Y/N, still catching her breath, grinned. "I couldn’t have done it without you guys. This one is for all of us!"

Before she could process what was happening, the other drivers began streaming in, each wanting to congratulate her on this monumental achievement. Lewis was the first to arrive, jogging over and giving her a massive hug.

"Well done, princess!" Lewis grinned, using the nickname the entire paddock had affectionately given her. "That was some of the best driving I’ve ever seen. You deserved this more than anyone."

Y/N laughed, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Lewis. That means a lot coming from you."

Max, who finished in third, made his way over next, pulling Y/N into a hug. "That was incredible, kid! I was pushing so hard to catch you, but you were just too fast. That last stint? Perfect."

Y/N’s smile widened. "Max, you kept me on my toes the whole race. I kept looking in my mirrors and thinking, ‘Please, not today!’" They both laughed, a shared camaraderie between rivals.

Charles joined the growing circle, clapping his hands before enveloping Y/N in a warm embrace. "You did it! You showed everyone today what you’re made of. I’m so proud of you, chéri."

Pierre Gasly chimed in, giving her a quick side hug. "You’re amazing, Y/N. It’s been a long time coming, and today was your day. You’re unstoppable."

Y/N was overwhelmed by the affection and admiration pouring in from all sides. Every driver in the paddock had a soft spot for her, and today, they all showed it without reservation.

Her interviews began shortly after, and as she spoke, drivers kept wandering over, interrupting to offer their congratulations. Daniel, always the joker, nudged her as he walked by, wearing a wide grin. "You know, if you keep driving like that, I’m going to have to start calling you Queen Y/N."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, stop it, Danny. But thank you. That means a lot."

As she continued with her media duties, the praise didn’t stop. George in his own interview, couldn't help but beam when asked about her performance. "Y/N is not just a phenomenal driver; she’s an incredible person. She works so hard, and seeing her finally get that win... I think we’re all just so happy for her. She’s truly the paddock princess."

Checo added in his segment, "She’s shown time and time again that she’s got what it takes. To see her standing on the top step today, it’s special. She’s the pride of the paddock."

Especially Fernando, one of the most experienced drivers on the grid, was full of admiration. "She’s a star. I’ve said it from the beginning. She’s got the talent, the dedication, and today, she put it all together perfectly. This is just the start for her."

When it was finally Y/N’s turn to address the cameras, she tried to keep her composure, but the emotions were too overwhelming. "I just want to thank my team, my family, and every single person who’s supported me. It’s been a tough journey, but today… today made it all worth it."

As she spoke, Carlos and Lando popped into her interview, both grinning ear to ear.

Lando, ever the playful one, said, "Y/N, you’ve got to teach us how to drive like that. Seriously, we’re all just trying to catch up to you now."

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we’re going to need some lessons. You’re the real deal, hermosa."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Stop it, you guys! But honestly, thank you. You all mean the world to me."

The drivers couldn’t hide their affection. They each gave her one last hug, congratulating her again before letting her continue. Even in their own interviews, her name was on everyone’s lips.

Lewis, when asked about Y/N’s victory, said, "She’s a trailblazer. There’s no other way to put it. The way she carries herself, her determination—she’s an inspiration, not just to women in motorsport but to all of us. She’s the paddock princess, and today, she proved why."

Max added, "She’s one of the most dedicated drivers out here. We all see how hard she works, and to see her win... it just feels right. We’re all proud of her."

The day was a celebration, not just for Aston Martin, but for the entire paddock. Y/N had earned every bit of praise, every hug, and every kind word. As the cameras clicked and the champagne flowed, she stood on the podium, looking out at the cheering crowd, her fellow drivers waving at her from below.

For once, the paddock princess had her crown. And everyone—drivers, teams, and fans alike—couldn't have been happier for her.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 18

The next afternoon Kara waits anxiously alongside Esme at the front window, searching for the standard SUV that Lena typically uses. To her surprise, the vehicle that eventually turns into the driveway isn't an Escalade, but rather a small sedan with only one occupant.

Kara watches the driver's silhouette lift her hood up and adjust her sunglasses, before Lena steps out. Unaware of being watched, Kara spots a flash of apprehension wash over the woman's features, but she reaches into the back for her overnight bag nonetheless.

Motioning for Esme to stay put, Kara crosses to the front door and swings it open. Lena's features brighten under her sunglasses, sending a shiver of desire down her spine. She can't remember if any of her prior partners had ever been so outwardly glad to see her. Kara decides she likes being the thing to make someone's day better.

"Hey," Lena greets softly as soon as she's in range.

"Hey," Kara returns. She stands aside so Lena can step inside. They don't embrace, let alone kiss, so once the door is closed they stand in a sort of awkward, delighted, tentative silence.

"Hi," Esme chirps, nervous herself for an entirely different reason. When Kara had emerged from the guest room following her call with Lena the day before, Esme had been ready to disavow her idol completely-- but her relief in finding out Lena remains in Kara's good standing had been palpable.

Halfway through removing her sunglasses, Lena freezes for half a heartbeat. Then her eyes zip to Esme, and Lena's face splits into a huge smile. Kara wonders if Esme can tell that this smile is different from the ones she'd gotten after the concert. Oh, Lena had been just as genuine then, but this time... this time Lena's smile is deeper, warmer.

"Hi Esme," Lena returns brightly. "How are you?"

"Great! I mean--" Esme rocks back on her heels, doing her best to temper her eagerness. "Fine."

Lena's gaze flicks bemusedly to Kara, who meets it with a knowing smile. Green eyes return to Esme, her smiling taking on a shy look. "Can I have a hug?"

Esme's face explodes into glee. "Yes!"

She bounds to Lena and throws her arms around her as Lena laughs and hugs just as tight.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night," Lena tells her.

"Are you kidding?? This is so cool! My friends would die if they knew--!" Esme halts her chatter, stricken. "They don't! I swear, I haven't told *anyone*."

Kara, Alex, and Kelly had stressed the importance of discretion for the next few days, and Esme had quickly gotten on board. As teenaged as she is, with all the frivolity that entails, Esme is sensitive enough to know that being loose with Lena's plans would hurt Kara, and ultimately hurt her whole family.

"I know," Lena assures her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Esme squeaks.

"Hey," Lena says, "do you like that new witch show? The one with--"

"The one with Samantha Arias?" Esme gasps. "Yes!! Omg I love it!!"

"It airs tonight, right? I rarely get to watch it live, so if you don't mind the company...?"

"You watch it too?!? Yes, yes, yes! Oh my god... we can make popcorn, and drink  cider, and you can use my skull mug--"

Eyes flying wide, Esme detaches from Lena with a jerk. "I think we ran out last week! Hold on, I gotta go check--" She dashes towards the kitchen, where Alex and Kelly were graciously giving them space.

"Mom!! Do we have cider?! Lena wants to use my skull!"

Lena watches Esme go, and when she turns back to Kara her lips are pressed tight against the laughter about to bubble out.

"She's been really excited to see you again," Kara says quietly. She sidles over, hands in her pockets. "I think the photos hit her harder than they did me."

Lena's cheeks flush. "Kara, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve... any of that. If I'd known they'd be released I would have told you from the start."

Kara nods. "I know. And thank you." She pauses. "How are you doing? I'm not the one who was actually in the photos this time."

A huff of frustration answers her. But Lena simply shrugs. "It comes with the territory. Still sucks though."

"I'm sorry."

"The worst part is that I can't even really do anything about it," Lena continues softly. "No bridge is ever truly burned in this industry, so... I don't know."

Kara takes her by the hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Well, you don't have to think about it today, or tomorrow."

Lena smiles, chasing the shadows from her features. "Very true."

"You ready to meet the rest of my family?"

"You bet." Lena's confidence lasts for a millisecond, before it wanes to a grimace. "But in all honesty... how much does your sister hate me?"

Kara snorts. "She doesn't *hate* you..."

"But she doesn't like me."

"She hasn't even met you," Kara reminds her, but relents a moment later. "But let's just say she's more Team Kara than Team Luvers"

Lena blinks. "Team Luvers?"

"Our portmanteau, according to Esme. Popped up after the photos did... Though I'm not sure who the other team is supposed to be."

"Oh my god--" Lena says, covering her mouth even as she smiles. "I had no idea--"

Kara believes her. With the tour schedule the way it is, and how quickly Lena had flown out after last nights show, she likely wouldn't have had time to check the comments, if she'd even had a mind to read them.

"Well, if Esme says it's true, it's gotta be. She's got her finger on the pulse of your fanbase, let me tell you."

She moves to pull Lena towards the kitchen, but pauses when Lena resists.

"I'm glad," Lena says softly. "That your sister is Team Kara. That you have your family as a support system."

Kara flushes, warmed by the sentiment. "Not so different from you, huh. What with your mom--"

Lena steps forward, pressing one finger to Kara's lips. Kara is too enthralled by Lena's closeness to mind the unexpected shush.

"Your family and my mother are not the same." Lena's finger lifts, only to be replaced by a soft kiss. "And be glad for that."

Then Lena steps away, and Kara teeters for a moment before regaining her balance and her senses.

"Right," she coughs. "Got it. So-- time to meet the in laws?"

Lena chuckles. "Let the gauntlet begin."

[etesians]

“I’ve just had a thought.”

Kei looks up from his phone, eyes drooping, the hour you’ve spent lounging on the couch rendering him immune to the fact that his neck is bent at a disastrous angle against the armrest. It has you pulling him forward, taking the pillow from under your neck to stuff under his, but it’s a fine trade. Now you can lay against the warmth of his chest and settle into what Kei calls the pre-nap—or, what he used to call it, back when he was still too embarrassed to simply say that he wanted cuddles.

“Woah, careful there," he can't pass up the opportunity to start with. Then, "Good kind or bad kind?”

You hum. “Sickeningly domestic kind.”

“So… good,” he decides after a beat, setting his phone down on the coffee table.

Those long, gentle fingers you love slide into your hair, and it’s a wonder how they always sate an itch that only manifests itself mere seconds before the touch, just so they can be rubbed away by him and him alone; suspiciously wizard-like. “It’s not like I’m opposed to any of that. Since it’s you.”

Aww.

“Honeycakes—” you coo obnoxiously, disguising his name in the endearment, which gets you exactly what you'd expect—the full moon's circumference of his palm eclipsing your vision, his grip light as he smushes your face around for a while, unable to rid himself of the urge. When he lets go a minute later, you share a look of mirrored contentment, all stupid smiles and rolling eyes, before you settle your ear over his heart and he resumes massaging your scalp.

Whatever video he was watching drones on in the meantime. Something about a supermoon coming up and dropping temperatures… Partly rainy with a high of seventy-three degrees and a low of sixty-eight degrees and—wow, he really got sucked into watching the weather channel... But it’s quiet enough to tune out against the steady drum in his ribs, so you both leave it be.

“Your idea, baby.”

“Oh, right. So I was thinking—y’know, when we start buying stuff for the house…”

“Mmhm?”

“For utensils, what if we found the same forks you grew up using, and the same spoons I had, so that our future kid'll have pieces of both of our childhoods already built into theirs? Our own little mismatched set.” "You're right..." It's quiet for a moment. Then Kei blows out a breath, his mind positively sunnier with the image. “That is sickeningly domestic.”

You open your mouth to defend the idea—because it is a good idea, notes-app worthy, even—when he tacks on, “I’m not saying no. God, you’re just so cute sometimes...” the words followed up by him pulling on your cheek. “Is that why you kept hovering by the drawer when we visited my mom? ‘What if’ my ass. You already found them on google, didn't you?”

Your laugh gives you away. He’s right—they’re in your amazon shopping cart as you speak, just waiting on his two cents.

“What about chopsticks, then? And knives. And spatulas.”

Spatulas?

Kei only shrugs in response.

“The rest can be new. I don’t want all of it to be us holding onto old things,” you pause. “But my star curtains are non-negotiable.”

“They have holes.”

“Those are the cutouts! And you even said they were pretty when the light’s seeping through them.”

“Okay, yes, they are pretty," he relents, setting his glasses down by his phone. Silencing the weather report with a slide of his thumb. “But furnishings aside, we’d still be missing one thing…”

“Tsukishima Kei, I know exactly what you’re gonna say…” You find yourself being rolled onto your back, his pupils pushing the golden-brown of his irises to the outer rims as they dilate. “And the answer is no.”

“What?” Kei smirks, almost sing-songy as he trails kisses down your collar. He’s not actually gunning for that part of your life together yet. Key word—yet. You’d both agreed to preserve the first year of your marriage for just the two of you. Figuring out the ins and outs of buying a house together and all the legalities that came with it had been hard enough on its own.

Everything after your one-year anniversary, though, is completely fair game.

“You’re the one who brought up a little Tsukishima…”

[threepandas]

Bad End: After The War

The click of a button in a mostly quiet room. Machines humming as they churn an endless stream of data. Listening. Receiving. Filtering through the noise, for those bits of intelligence that might win us the war. The outpost was quite. As much as it could be, at least, on this god forsaken moon.

"Perimeter Check?"

More specifically, 'did you get your ass eaten by those horrifying eel-snakes? Because you promised not too, and I WILL be mad.' 'Cept, you know, these channels are technically recorded. Rather not have my snark On Record, thanks. So SUBTEXT.

The familiar, oh so melodious, demonic death screeching of abomination eels and blaster fire comes on comm. A symphony straight out of some sci-fi horror movie, act 3. The part where everybody's getting eaten. Except NOT, because this? This is just my life.

Though the eaten part is still a Very Real Risk.

Which Is FUN.

I wait. Hope I just caught Headshot at just a bad time. Not, you know, in his final moments. Ha ha... Nope! Not! Thinking 'bout that! He's immortal, I'm immortal, and we both live in a happy fun time fairy land of FUCKING WONDERS. Denial? Fuck yeah I know her! Best friend, that one. Gonna be my future kids godparent. Walk me down the aisle. We BESTIES.

There is finally, at long last, ominous silence. Dead or dying? Dead or dying? Which side, eels or Headshot, is Dead or-?

Click.

"Perimeter looks good. Bit of a mess near the east gate, though. We'll need to get the droids to shove some mess over the ledge. They tried to climb again."

Oh thank FUCK. Tension bleeds out of me. This post is hell on my anxiety. I send back the confirm. Slump back on my seat as I keep an eye on his tracker's dot, on the patrol read out. I fucking HATE perimeter checks. They aren't safe. But... well...

This universe? I'm pretty sure, it's an "all the serial numbers filed off" blatant rip off of Star Wars. Might be a fan fiction? Cause, while the troupes are familiar, the "characters", no one is where or WHO they should be. There are also other "totally not X" bits here and there, all of which confuses the fuck out me.

But what I DO know? Is that making a fuss about the safety and well-being of us peons? During this, the "totally not the Clone Wars"? While Evil Dick, Sith-y Pants the Obvious is in charge? GREAT way for our entire outpost to get "tragic casualties of war"-'d. So yeah, no thanks.

Keeping my mouth shut.

And, hey! At least they ate our complete asshole of a commander. Technically we SHOULD be getting a new one... but we were told to make do. Same with all the OTHER critical roles currently empty.

The DICK.

Like? I know he wants to drag out the war and maximize suffering for Evil Not-Sith, Off Brand Space Wizards Of EVIL Powers? But like? Fffffuck yoooou, dude. What the hell. Hope he stubs EVERY toe, always.

The Clones deserve better then this. The SECOND the war is over? I'm stealing Headshot. Fuck this "property of the state" bullshit. Just me 'n him, man. We could go explore the wilds. Or get him a beard and fake glasses. Clone? What clone! This is my BROTHER, Headshot. Our parents were gun-toting hippies. My names Moonrock. Fuck off, maybe. Keep walking.

The second I see him cross the base threshold, I switch over to Droid command. They can't hold my shift forever, but for a bit? Should be fine.

Jogging down the hall and sliding down a few ladders, I finally catch sight of Headshot as he leaves the staging area. Oof. That is a LOT of eel blood. The cleaning bots are cursing up a storm as they follow him. Even from the other end of the hallway... he smells... ripe.

I give him a second to lead the way and for the bots to work behind him. Then join in the little parade. Ah, eel goo. The third worst thing that could come out of going outside. Right behind losing a limb or dying. But hey! I restocked the soaps for ya!

"Doesn't change that it's on my everywhere, Commander."

Oooooh~ breaking out the COMMANDER are we? Is that SASS I hear? Snark perhaps? Why HEADSHOT! Such insubordination~! What EVER shall I do?

He snorts and suggest something anatomically impossible as he gestures to the shower rooms door. I tap it open for him. Goo boy that he is. Grinning I follow and find a bench where I can sit so my back is to him. It... used to be weird, to be honest, this level of living in each others pockets. But time and isolation has eroded a lot.

Clones don't really see boundaries like everyone else. Don't have the same taboos or unspoken social rules. After all... they're all the same gender. Were forced to live basicly in a breadbox with each other. The culture that developed reflects that. And I? Am more of a follower then a "type A". Not passive by any stretch of the imagination, just... eh.

I don't have the social outgoing-ness? I guess? To drag the culture of our base towards MY social norms as opposed towards his. It made him comfortable. I shrugged and went okay. Rinse and repeat. To be honest I was just glad he trusted me enough to SHARE.

Booting up my definitely-not-a-tablet, (which is of course, STUFFED full of various bits of sci-fi technology that only half makes sense) I once again try and connect to the wider army's mainframe. Nothing. I've BEEN trying for weeks now. But for some reason? We're cut off.

No new commands. No new forms to fill. No demands for information.

No UPDATES on what the FUCK is HAPPENING out there.

I'm... not gonna lie, getting nervous. We're a listening outpost. Some of our information is time sensitive. And our SUPPLIES are not infinite. Forget food, if we run out of AMMO? Those nightmare snake-eel THINGS will... Look, long and short of it? I've got an "empty" blaster shoved under my bunk. Two shots left. And compared to the slow, SLOW digestion and meat threshing teeth those horrors have?

At least it's FAST.

But I would REALLY prefer we NOT fucking come to that, you know? That someone would fucking PICK UP. Or? I don't know!? Notice we're offline? Whatever the problem is! The fact that we've gone dark is SPOOKING the fuck out of me.

Not to mention? That even BEFORE communication went down? The chat rooms and update boards weren't making a whole lot of sense. Lot of clone specific references that I didn't get. Memes, maybe? I don't KNOW and that's the part that's killing me. I had no way to CHECK. It all just... went dark.

We're still GETTING data. But? We can't seem to SEND it. Headshot and I checked. I checked the droids while he got the dish and other external devices. Clambering around the roof with his sniper rifle like a well armed, circus trained, mechanic. Nothing was wrong with the droids. And according to Headshot? Nothing was wrong with the dish.

After a while I gave up. Again.

Reminded myself to practice my meditative breathing. In... out... IN... OUT... do NOT trough your only Data Tablet. You'll break it. You can't REPLACE it. It might FEEL satisfying in the moment... but it's Not Worth It. Just listen to the sound of the running water. The quite of the room. Breathe... unclench your jaw, make your muscles relax, c'mon you can do this.

Fuck, I needed my anti-anxiety meds. But we were starting to ween me off them so I didn't go cold turkey when we ran out. It was fucking with my head. But, hey! At least I wouldn't run the risk of seizures! Or any suicidal ideation! No, just slowly building anxiety, in this, History's Most Stressful Outpost.

The shower shut off behind me. Leaning forward to grab a towel from the stack, I tossed it blindly over my shoulder. Heard him catch it. Wet feet slapping quietly against tiles as he walked forward, drying himself. From the feel of droplets and heat, looming just behind me? He was leaning over my shoulder. The man always did like to damn near boil himself in the shower.

"Still nothing? We've run out of D6 bolts. Not to mention your meds..." He commented, still drying off. I could feel the occasional brush of a towel. A bare arm reached over my shoulder to tap at the screen. "Have you tried...? Shit."

He tried several commands. Leaning over me, damn near cradling the back of my head against his bare chest. But nothing worked. Plopping his chin down on the top of my head, he casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, leaning his weight on me as he considered the problem. The fans kicked in overhead, dehumidifing and hopefully preventing any sort of alien molds.

I told him to go put on some fuckin pants, before he frozen something he might miss off.

With an amused snort he stood and wandered over to the armor cleaner. Grabbing a new undersuit. Blacks went on, armor freshly de-goo-d, he called that he was presentable once more. I swung my legs over the bench. No need to stand, after all, if we're not leaving yet. Besides, exhaustion was a symptom of the withdrawals. Med changes are a BITCH.

Just as I was about to suggest anough brainstorming session, though?

Our comms both ping. LOUDLY.

That's the emergency signal from the control room. SHIT. I'm up and running before the sound even fades. Headshot right behind me. Not so much because he can't out run me, as he'd stop to grab his weapons as was bringing up the rear. Guarding my back. I prayed, PRAYED, this wasn't an attack. We were supposed to be a fourteen person team.

There were TWO OF US.

We'd never be able to hold the line. Would DIE here. Fuck, I didn't even have time to get that gun! I should have been carrying it. It had been too morbid. But... but...!

I slam into the control room. Headshot a half step behind. The droids frantically churning away. Okay. Okay! What's happening? A ship, big one, in orbit. Oooooh fuck. How Big? I ask. Am informed? "Wipe us from the face of the galaxy" Big. Ha ha! FUCKING FANTASTIC. Great! Merry fucking Christmas to me, I guess! Okay. Okay!

Let's DO this.

Get on the short range ship comm, (never thought I'd USE it but here we fucking ARE) and ask, politely, for them to Fucking Identify Themselves. (Because we have Big Guns and are NOT afraid to use um!)

There is a long tense moment. Then? Oh thank merciful FUCK. A Clone's voice comes on the line. General Spark of the 153rd, in pursuit, they're here to catch traitors and resupply if we need anything. Permission to land a few ships?

I. Could. WEEP.

Yes! Oh, ABSOLUTELY yes! Whoever they're chasing picked a REALLY stupid planet to hide out on, not gonna lie. They'll be picking their traitors up in PIECES. But? Never has a voice been more beautiful. Send Techs! You have FULL use of the outpost General! Welcome!

Setting the droids to navigating the incoming ships safely through landing, I all but DRAG Headshot towards the landing pad. People! Actual, real, PEOPLE! Supplies! Oh thank FUCK! We might be able to figure out what wrong with our relays! Get NEWS! And? That was a CLONE GENERAL!!!

That NEVER happens!

I can practically feel my self vibrating with excitement. Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, as the ships come in for a landing. The officers that roll out are all clones. Their armor more personalized then I've ever seen it. It's BEAUTIFUL. I can't help but lean over and whisper to Headshot, saying as much. Wondering if we can get him some of the supplies they must of used.

You know, assuming he WANTS any of um.

If not? Dibs.

His shoulders are shaking. Why are-? One of the officers thanks me for the compliment. Headshot you SON OF A SUBSTANDARD VAT. Was your SHORT RANGE MIC ON!? Why would you not-!? Bastard! Dead to me! Sorry general, I've never met this man before in my LIFE. Couldn't introduce if I TRIED.

Still! High ranking clones? We love to see it. I am THRILLED. It's been long over due.

Dooooesn't mean we should hang out in Eel Country though. Everybody INSIDE! Let's goooo. Nice and safe, where no ones getting eaten, m'kay? Thank you! And yes! I DO have a list of resupply needs! A LONG list. Starting with my meds, followed by ammo. Though honestly they're tied at first...

As me and the, now rather concerned, medic chat about the collapsing state of our highly rationed medical supplies? Headshot and the General are off to the side... talking about... something. Not sure. Probably not important, or he'd include me. I show the medic our "infirmary" and medical charts. Then get pulled away by the mechanic.

I barely get to SEE Headshot over the next two days. Forget sitting down. The only breaks I get? Meals and lights out. It's kinda awesome. Exhausting, yes, but? After so long isolated? It's a good type of exhausted. The sort where you feel like? For ONCE? You're actually being productive.

There are SO MANY eel burrows to scan? Potential landing sites? And all the MAINTENANCE? Dear merciful FUCK. Literally everything is out of date and cheap as BALLS. Held together with shoe strings and a prayer. But finally! FINALLY! Someone in budgeting GIVES A SHIT!!! Better equipment! Actual medical supplies! Real bedding! And best of ALL?

AIs! As in Actual, information sorting, artificial intelligences!

Because there literally hasn't been a REASON for humanoids to do this job for CENTURIES aside from a misplaced sense of superiority and distrust of droids! All WE need to do? Is stay on base and make sure THEY don't go rogue or break down from the extended isolation! Woooo desk job!

I'm gonna name um. They shall be my BABIES.

That said? None of this? Is very... Off Brand Sith-y. Little too "cares about their fellow man"-ish, you know? And... I'm not stupid. Excited as FUCK, for all the supplies and new changes... but not? Stupid. Blind.

They're keeping me away from the control room.

Keeping me out of important discussions. Sending me off on errands. All of which? SEEM important. ARE important, on the surface, but hide the fact that they are intentionally scheduled? Just as Certain Things Are Discussed. I am being... handled. Like a child. A fool.

When I confront Headshot? In our bunkroom, which we've shared for YEARS at this point. Slept just across from each other, so this lonely hell might feel just a little less empty? So when the dark thoughts creep in? That we might die in this God forsaken place, forgotten by the universe, left to ROT here, and wouldn't it just be easier to-? Someone there, so we won't. So we still matter.

He stands across from me. In OUR place. OUR room.

And FUCKING LIES.

......I guess I know where I stand, huh? And I know... I KNOW, I shouldn't feel betrayed. Clones come first, always. That's the party line. How they survived. I'm a Nat. There was always a power imbalance between us. I would always have been held just that bit further away then one of the brothers. Guess... guess it just finally happened.

I shouldn't feel betrayed. I have no RIGHT to feel betrayed.

But I do.

Headshot looks alarmed, hands twitching at his side, even as he tries to maintain his facade. Nothing's happing. They aren't doing anything. Right. Uh huh. His lie sits between us like a field of broken glass. The words, the arguments, I'd been looking for now seeming so useless. What's the point? He's made his decision.

I feel like crying. Don't want to talk anymore.

Good NIGHT, Headshot.

In the morning, I don't bother asking. I know he notices. Is waiting, restless, for us to continue on as we always have. We always check schedules after all. But what's the point? He'll lie. Instead I pull my armor on and go. Go to your brothers, Headshot. Whatever's happening here, I'm clearly not trusted enough to be part of it.

I just get out of your way.

There's a lot of busy work on my schedule, but honestly? The new AIs are learning to handle it. Instead, I head down to the new supply crates. Grab some bedding. A cart. Then head back. Pack up my shit. I just... can't.

Moving it all to a different bunk, I still have most of the day left to go. Could...? Probably? Check out if we actually DO have space rats? The droids have been reporting dust and noise in the basement, near the food stores. So likely vermin of some kind. Gonna be horrifying to find out what kind of vermin exsist HERE, but better then nothing, I guess.

Grabbing one of the better ration bars to shove in my face on the way to the gun locker, I count it a breakfast. Everyone's busy with a clone only meeting. Good for them, I guess. Not upset with General Spark or his men, I realize, as I check over the gun, no... just Headshot. Because he hurt me.

All he had to say was "I can't tell you." Or "trust me" and I WOULD have. But no. He LIED. To my FACE. And now? Now I feel like I'm waking around with shards of glass where my heart should be. Like I want to hit something. I need a distraction. So down to long term storage I go.

Normally? It's only droids down here. I have to ride a cramped little maintenance elevator lined with blast doors. You know, incase Satan's favorite pet somehow burrows in. The fuckers. It's also freezing. Which, I mean? Great for food storage, not so much for thermal regulation.

The level is eerie quiet.

Which.... huh. That's? Not right.

I reach for my comm before pausing. The hurt in my chest throbbing. I know I shouldn't let it get in the way of professionalism. Of protocol. The rules are there for a reason. To keep us alive and safe. But... God, I don't want to hear his fucking voice right now. I might cry. Say something I don't mean and regret later. You don't LAST long, isolated out in Hellpit, Nowhere, without doing a little soul searching.

Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.

My hand drops. It's fine. I'm FINE. There's nothing down here. Or, well, should be nothing down here. We'll find out.

Slowly moving forward, I begin to check the stacks. I don't see any of the droids. Don't HEAR any of them. There should be at least thirty down here. But all I hear? Is the circulation fans. The sound of my foot steps. Something isn't right.

It's a loose, half melted screw in the path that saves me. At first I think it's a bug. But the quite clink when my foot nudges it is unmistakable. It makes me look sideways. There, a cleaning droid, cut down from behind. Tiny little mechanical claws still reaching out to claw itself to safety. Wheels shredded. The marks of a lazer blade are unmistakable.

The hiss-hum even more so.

I BARELY dodge.

Half my gun, simply sheared away. Molten slag dripping from the cut point, the battery already violently destabilizing ask it's nicked. I throw it, before I have the chance to lose a limb. The blast takes out a crate. I'm thrown. Barely roll in time to dodge the downward stab of the hissing blade. A brutal, magic-enhanced, kick sends me flying.

Straight through a stack of ration crates, into a wall mounted medical case. I land among the corpses of the droids. Each, a picture of terror and betrayal. I don't understand what's happening. The blades not red or black! It's blue! That's a not-jedi! Right?! Why are they!? Crates are lifted into the air. Threatening to smash down and bury me alive.

Can't move. Something twisted, badly, in my leg. My chest burning. Something cracked, I could feel it. I'm gonna die. Oh good, I'm gonna DIE.

"Wait! She's not a clone!"

I stare up into the face of the so called "good guys" and feel nothing but terror. Around me, the pieces of thirty droids I'd named and known, dead and dumped like trash upon the ground. Flower with his fussy need to have everything just so, Chirp who loved to sing, Mouse with the wheel I could never get to stop squeeking.

Nothing but Cannon fodder.

They died so afraid.

"Oh! You're right! Sorry! I thought you were one of those 'peating bastards. Are you okay? How long have they held you?" The Knight said. His Apprentice nodding eagerly.

My brain was static. Empty. Held? Slurs? W-what in God's name? I stayed down. Feeling small, lost, and confused. Pain rocking my body from being thrown around. The Apprentice, at least, seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea what the fuck they were on about.

"Ah. You don't know what's happened." She said sympathetically. It would be nicer, if she hadn't stood back while I was hurt, before they got around to asking who's side I was on. "The Clones betrayed the Republic. Took it over by force. They've made an empire. They killed the old Chancellor, who was Fallen, but then instead of handing the Republic back to the people? Kept it! Said we couldn't be trusted with it."

The last part was said mockingly. As though everyone and their brother hadn't been aware the Republic was on the brink of collapse. Corruption at an all time high. As though that same Republic hadn't been using the Clones as a SLAVE ARMY.

Slaves do tend to take exception to their chains, historically.

I wasn't really sure why the fuck they were surprised.

"Now come on, you can join the Rebellion. You must know all sort of information, from sitting out here, right? You can-!"

Click.

My helmet went full dark and internal audio only. Which was interesting because I still could barely move. But then bright light and sound, popped and cracked not to far away from my head. A flash grenade. And I finally, FINALLY? Remembered that all standardized armor? Comes with in built life support feeds.

Headshot's mystery meeting was in the command room... where my life sign readout would be. The life support feedback. Real time monitoring from me getting my ass kicked and WHERE.

A hand grabs the drag handle built into each armor, for EXACTLY this reason, and I feel my self pulled out of the danger zone. Can hear heavy, open fire. Shit. There goes our supplies. My helmet clears and I recognize the shoulder I've been careful thrown over. Headshot. He came.

He falls back at some signal I can't see. Straight to the elevator.

The shoulder under me is shaking, just slightly. Adrenaline, fear, anger. I can't tell. But... I... I'm...

"Don't." His voice is rough. Choked out through gritted teeth. His grip just carefully loose enough not to bruise. It seems to be taking everything he has. "You don't get to die. Do you understand me? You're not ALLOWED to die. Not now. Not ever. We didn't survive this long for you to leave me now."

He barely waits long enough for the door to open. Stride smooth and desperate as he races us towards the medic. I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe. Let myself be manhandled. Ha ha... a-at least? I know what he's keeping from me now. So there's that. Ow. Oh god.

The medic has to put me under. Bone fragments.

I drift.

Wake up, bandaged to hell and back, in ou-... in Headshot's bunkroom. Across from the empty bunk that used to be mine. Bed's softer then it should be, still smelling like Headshot. We haven't had the new sheets long enough. Knowing him, he probably stacked um.

The door opens. Headshot stalks in, dragging a cart behind him. His usual "pleasantly amused by life" expression nowhere to be seen. Instead? His expression is... blank. A determined, almost violent, edge to the set of his shoulders.

In silence, I watch as he unloads the cart. Bedding, knickknacks, the various bit of cobbled together wall art. All carefully stuck right back where it had been before. As though he had memorized the proper location of each and every piece. Even as he worked, with his back to me, every line of his body was daring me to be dumb enough to argue.

I didn't want too. I was just... just fucking tired.

Didn't like that we were arguing. If that was even what we were doing.

"Why?" I asked. Summing up everything and distilling it. Why didn't you just fucking TELL me? Why didn't you TRUST me? Why did you think I'd turn on you? Why would you lie? Why were we cut off? Was it REALLY a technical error? Why take the Republic? Why ANY of this?

Just... WHY, Headshot? Please...

"I refuse to lose you. When the war ended, you were going to leave. You said you'd take me with you... but honestly? That was naive. There would be no where safe we could ever go. We all knew that. We all had favorites." He finally stopped organizing my bed. Instead, smoothing down the sheet. Running both hands across it as he stared down, unseeing. "It was all so unorganized. Filthy. They treated us like DIRT. But we were... we ARE better. Designed to be superior. Stronger, smarter, faster. More durable. Why were we listening to them?"

"Then we found out why. Control chips in the brain. The nervous system. Carefully hidden, yes. But not carefully enough. You weren't authorized, you know. I'm glad. If you had been? I'd never have forgiven you. You'd never know you were dead before you died. But... I promise."

"I would have made it fast." His smile was a terrible thing. All broken edges and betrayal. Teeth upon teeth. A mania finally set free.

"Never thought those hypocrites would run here. Expect us to die for them. The happy little slaves. For the glory of THEIR Republic. You'll be okay, Commander. The General's agreed to stay until your back on your feet, just in case."

Headshot slides onto the bunk, sitting at my side, sweetly brushing hair from my face as though he hasn't lost his god damned mind. He's the picture of relief, now that there's no more secrets between us. Now that I'm injured and dependent on his help. Yet... it's teetering.

As though at any minute...

He could slide into some... unhinged state of mind. How LONG has he been on his last thread? Barely holding together? He leans forward and my mind goes utterly still. His lips pressed gently against mine. Chaste. Sweet. A warm, calloused hand, cradling my poor bruised cheek.

"I promise we'll stay together." He whispers against my stunned mouth. Eyes intent and mad, utterly loving. Like a strangers. "I won't let them seperate us. Not for anything. Now that it's done? We can be assigned anywhere. I'll take you with me. War's over, love. We're finally free."

Were we?

[lotusity]

chapter 02: the fuck is ghibli?

atsumu still couldn't fathom it. you were finally back after three whole years, standing in front of him, it really was you. he waited so long for this moment, picturing it a thousand different ways in his head. but seeing you now, out of the blue, hit him harder than any volleyball could. it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs– he didn't know what to say or what to do now that you're here. he needed time to mentally prepare himself, but of course, life never gave him that opportunity. now you're here, just like you've been all his throughout his childhood, yet somehow more beautiful than ever. even though it's been only three years, he thinks you've only grown more and more radiant. 

as the four of you walked to suna’s house, atsumu couldn't help but steal glances at you. you, on the other hand, were caught up in your thoughts, failing to notice his glances. your eyes wandered from osamu to suna, and finally back to atsumu. you couldn’t help but notice how much the miya twins had changed after all these years. they used to be the same height as you, but now they both particularly towered over you, taller, broader, and undeniably more mature. atsumu, in particular, has definitely changed the most in your eyes.. he dyed his hair blond, he was taller, and he gained a lot of muscle– true signs of a hard-working athlete. 

“can't keep yer eyes off me, huh?’’ atsumu was first to break the silence between you two, flashing his signature cocky grin. his grin was a little sharky, though you didn't notice. the boy was trying so hard to contain his nervousness and excitement. 

caught off guard, your face instantly flushed, abruptly turning your head away from the blond to conceal your flustered state. “shut up..!” you stuttered. “i was just looking at how you dyed your hair while i was gone. don’t get ahead of yourself, pisshead.”

“hey, my hair is NOT piss-colored” atsumu shot back, his voice laced with irritation. 

“piss head.”

“NOT piss!”

“NOT!!!”

“piss head, piss head, piss head–”

“shaddup, ya little twerp!” atsumu yelled, tugging your sweater hood over your head causing you to stumble, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“it’s blond head to you, actually,” he corrected smugly.

“you asshole!” you kicked him in the shins, unable to hide your smile when he whined in pain. 

“hey! that hurts!”

“they still argue like when they were kids…” osamu muttered, shaking his head while a small smile formed on his lips.

– 

“we’re here” suna announced, grabbing his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. 

“don’t make too much noise idiots. my little sister is sleeping.”

“yeah, atsumu,” you and osamu said in unison, and atsumu’s offended protests were quickly silenced by everyone's hasty “SHH!”

the four of you quickly made your way up the wooden stairs and into suna’s room. it didn't take long to pass out the candy and choose a movie, and in less than no time, everyone was situated in their spots. you and atsumu sat squished  together on the small coach while suna and osamu were sprawled out on the floor in front of you two.

“howl’s moving castle!!  it's one of my favorites!” you gushed as the opening credits rolled on the TV screen, your eyes gleaming with excitement. 

“ghibli movie on top bro” suna agreed, barely glancing back at you but grinning all the same.

“see? suna gets me,” you said, giving him a proud nod.

“the fuck is ghibli??’ atsumu questioned with genuine confusion furrowing his brow.

“oh my god, atsumu…”you say in disbelief, giving him an exaggerated shocked look, "have you been living under a rock all this time?”

suna laughed, and osamu gave his brother a sympathetic pat on the leg.

“It’s okay, atsumu. your first ghibli experience will be with me, so you’re in good hands,” you assured him, flashing him a bright smile.

“yeah, but you already watched it before… i'm not your first, so it's not fair…” atsumu mumbled, sulking more than he intended to. 

you paused for a moment at atsumu’s comment, then leaned close to him, your voice dropping just enough so that atsumu could hear. you didn't want to disrupt the movie for osamu and suna. ‘‘yeah, but you’re the first person i’ve ever watched it with. so, it’s fine.” you gently smiled, giving the blond a small nudge. 

for a moment, atsumu forgot how to breathe. he’d seen that same smile before, years ago when you were kids, when things were simpler. but now, that same smile you gave made his heart flutter in his chest, a strange feeling atsumu wasn't accustomed to. he wanted to tell you how much he'd missed you, and how often he thought about you while you were away– but all he could do was nod, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he’d turn into a stuttering mess. 

you both gazed back at the movie playing on the screen, however, neither of you were really watching—the air between you two was with tension and unspoken words. maybe one day, atsumu will find the courage to tell you how you make him feel. but for now, he’d settle for this – just the two of you (too focused on y/n to notice suna and osamu), watching a ghibli movie, the rest of the world fading away.

a/n: sorry for being so inactive. school just started for me and i’ve been barely able to get on tumblr 😓 also fighting major writing block!!.. ( will proof read later :p )

tag list: @giocriedpower , @from-mae

[ofmermaidstories]

Amnesia anon add on: maybe you're not pregnant, but Deku freezes and leans over, suddenly extremely hushed and asks if you think... should he get a test? Should I stay and wait to see if... and you're thinking a test for WHAT

Its A pregnancy test you two have been trying for a baby and depending on pregnancy mileage that can either feed into the wistful aching confusion or the psychological horror.

But the idea of being 21, you're still trying to do taxes without crying, you had to text an adult (because you are a child wearing adult clothes) how to get a stain out of your one nice shirt because you have a job interview for a position that would suck just a little bit less than the one you have now-- relationships are barely even on the radar, let alone children, let alone wanting a child, and then feeling so secure in your life that you could promise that by the time it is born you would still have a place to keep them warm and food to fill their belly. You can't even promise that for yourself yet.

The drama. The angst. You want your mom!!! But then again! This dude would be a dilf! Ngl! It's all very confusing.

Genuinely sorry to all the pregnancy averse people I get it unfortunately I have a soapopera soul.

LMAOOOO, reader, looking up at him like he’s bonkers, like test?????? oh my god im crying. imagine being in that position. like on the outside you are 36, a proper adult that’s in the perfect position to have a baby—but on the inside you are freaking out about essentially being a teenage mother LMFAOOOOOOOO. idk i think i would actually start flipping tables at that point.

when you balk at it deku would trip over himself to reassure you that everything happens in your time, whenever you wanna blah blah blah. meanwhile u are like. planning your escape from this nuthouse bc why is he talking about PREGNANCY tests, omg are you a captive? have you been CAPTURED by some SICKO?

(poor deku, he’d never recover if he knew what was going through your head LMAO)

anyways i agree with u anon, i get why being preggers can be a sore spot/fear, however. 😌 sometimes i have ideas. and my original idea was having Reader be like six months pregnant bc it would truly be body horror at that point lmao, but then i decided against it bc it kinda throws off the tone of the ending i have in mind so. 😔 next time ig.

[moirindeclermont]

I can't believe we are almost here.

We have 3 episode left (more like 2 because the last one will be divided into two parts), so enjoy this one, featuring... role play!

With the partecipation of a special coat and a cape.

"You know you look like a pirate with that coat and vest," said Penelope, without implying anything more than an observation.

Her husband, though, had other ideas.

He waited until it was time to deliver Whistledown, and then he stopped her before she was about to leave.

"When you return, leave on the cape and only that... and come find me in the studio"

Pen didn't know what he had in mind, but that was an excellent suggestion nevertheless.

Her delivery went smoothly (usually, a footman of the staff was always there to ensure her safety anyway), and she got home, an electric undercurrent on her skin. She removed her clothes, leaving on the cape as requested, and then she went to the studio. Luckily, the cape was big enough that she didn't have to risk flashing someone, even if the house was quiet at that hour.

Entering the studio, Colin was seated with the Pirate Coat, and Pen started to know what her wicked husband was thinking.

He looked at her, clearly pleased he followed his instruction.

"Lady Whistledown, I'm Captain Bridgerton. Sadly, your vessel is at the bottom of the sea, and your fiancee is my prisoner," he said in a tone that made clear he was not sorry and, more probably, responsible for it.

"Captain Bridgerton," she said as if the name disgusted her. "Release my fiancee at once; I'm sure we can find a mutual agreement," she said, noticing how Colin was now standing, his body naked under the coat. He wasn't playing fair at all. She unbuckled her cape, giving him a frontal view of her body and making him gulp. Payback.

"Really? Because I have something in mind..." he said seductively, making her turn as if embarrassed. "I'm unwed, Captain," and she felt Colin caressing her arm. "I'll be gentle, and your fiancee will be free," he said, making her turn again and making her squee.

He kissed her, a rough, animalistic kiss that turned her on. She tried to play the part, but his tongue and mouth felt too good.

"I see someone is not opposed to the idea," he whispered, making her moan.

"We have an agreement," she tried to replicate weakly as he devoured her.

"That is very true, my lady," he said as he took the cape and drape it on the floor, before kneeling down and waiting for her to do the same. He removed also his coat, using it as a pillow for her head.

"Now, my lady... let me see what we are working with," as he traced her open legs with a finger. She knew she was already soaked, the game and the teasing igniting her.

"Bloody hell, P—my lady," said Colin, almost breaking character as he prepared her. They were both too caught up in the moment, so after a quick preparation, he was over her. " Try to relax," he tried to say in character, but as soon as he was inside her, all pretence from both parts went through the window.

"Colin--"

"Oh my god, Pen--"

The forces of Colin's thrust were wild, making her wish she had something to grasp... and in the end, she ended up scratching Colin's back with her nails, as he brought both of them to release.

They lay on the studio floor in the cape, looking at each other, giggling like kids.

"Next time, darling, I want you to put the accent," he said, kissing her deeply as they enjoyed the afterglow together.

[hjemne]

MOTHERFUCKERS I AM GOING TO SURVIVE THE WEEK FROM HELL 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

i’ve been having a bad week and my lovely friend sent me these in the mail to cheer me up 🥺🥺 he doesn’t even like arctic monkeys but he always knows how make me feel better ❤️‍🩹

[bungobble-my-balls]

Ok no one else is allowed to smile softly at Atsushi before letting themselves get killed to stop him dying with them anymore, he's got enough going on as it is 😭

Bonus with all three of Atsushi's girlfriends looking at him softly

Atsushi harem but the catch is they all keep telling Atsushi to go so he doesn't die with them.

Reading the dialogue between them actually makes me feel sick it's literally a pattern! This keeps happening from Lucy's 'you have to live on' to Sigma's 'let go, or you'll die too' (not this panel but 3 panels before) to Akutagawa's 'you damn fool, hurry up and go'!!!

The patterns....the patterns!!!

[vynnyal]

Btw I'm basically speedrunning now

[missingn000]

I FINISHED THE ONE PIECE ONESHOT I'VE BEEN WRITING

[chipthekeeper]

Looks like it's time to catch up with Young Jedi Adventures!! Look who's here!!!

[1shimaru]

aaaaa,, they're having so much fun together ^^) <3

[columboscreens]