#psa i don’t hate carlos

[23fallencomets]

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS

July by Noah Cyrus is also Logan coded.

“i’ve been holding my breath

counting to ten

over something you said”

-James very publicly saying their looking at Carlos for the 2025 seat

“so tell me to leave

i’ll pack my bags, get on the road”

-Again james heavily implying that Logan might not have a seat for 2025

“‘cause you remind me everyday

i’m not enough, but I will stay”

-Logan fighting for his seat despite the odds piled against him and james basically giving up on him, but logan wanting to stay at Williams

“feels like a lifetime

just trying to get by

while we’re dying inside”

-logan crashing/being crashed into, his machinery failing on him, getting disregarded publicly by his boss and him not being able to do much about it but still holding out hope

“find someone that loves you

better than i do”

-logan putting trust into williams that they’ll support him, but williams willing to take that risk with carlos (if the rumors are true) since it’s been shown that carlos sometimes struggles within team dynamics and again, if the rumors are true, he wants to be a 1st driver, not a 2nd.

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, detailed meltdown on-page, angst.

Notes — Another double update, go me! PSA: Our Amelia has a bit of a difficult time in this one. Take care of yourselves x

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

WhatsApp Groupchat — The 2019 F1 Grid

Charles L. I have found an iPad in Ferrari hospitality. It is engraved with the initials A.B. Any ideas?

Lewis H. Does it have a bunny sticker on it?

Charles L. Yes!

Lewis H. That’s Amelia’s, then.

Lando N. lol I’ll come get it just gimme 10 mins im in a debrief rn 

Charles L. Sure no problem Amelia is Zak Brown’s daughter, yes?

George R. Yeah mate The smart one.

Sebastian V. Haha. She is the one Binotto wants? Brown hair, pretty smile?

Lando N. Bro.

Lewis H. @Sebastian — Mattia has tried to get her to Ferrari?

Sebastian V. Yes. He’s offered her some very lucrative opportunities. She has so far turned all of them down.

Carlos S. She’s loyal to McLaren. Leave her to us, yes?

Valtteri B. But if she ever decided to go elsewhere, Mercedes would make sense.

Lewis H. Yeah obviously 👍🏻

Lando N. ????????????

Lance S. If she was offered a million dollars to fix the Racing Point car, do you think she’d take it? Not a hypothetical. My dad wants to know.

Max V. Money won’t work. You forget she’s already the child of a millionaire.

Lance S. Damn it.

Kimi R. Is this the child always in Norris’ garage?

Lando N. Don’t call her a child we are literally the same age

Kimi R. That does not change the fact

Daniel R. But seriously, why was she even in Ferrari hospitality in the first place?

Max V. Ice cream.

Lando N. Ice cream 

Lewis H. Ice cream.

Sebastian V. I can confirm she was here for ice cream. Pistachio, specifically.

Charles L. I cannot believe I’ve still never met her. Is she really so smart?

Lando N. Yes.

Pierre G. Absolutely.

Max V. Smarter than you are capable of comprehending, Charles.

Charles L. Then I suppose I will just have to charm her into accepting Mattia’s offer 😌

Lando N. I will put in the wall, Leclerc.

Charles L. Oh! You are together with her, Lando? I didn’t know!

Lando N. No, we’re not together.

Charles L. Then I am confused.

Max V. Her father has practically forbade them from dating. Total nonsense if you ask me.

Carlos S. They are dating.

Daniel R. @Carlos 😳😳😳

Lando N. @Carlos NO WE ARE NOT STOP SAYING THAT

Sergio P. Mucho defensive…

Carlos S. He wrote his race number on her shoes.

Lando N. So what? That means nothing.

Daniel R. Oh brother….

Max V. Yeah, sorry, I can’t even back you on that one Lando. That’s a lot.

Kimi R. My wife had my number stitched into her shoes. We got married six months later.

George R. So Kimi is saying you’re basically engaged, bro.

Lewis H. Let’s stop talking about this. Before Lando has a full on meltdown.

Charles L. Too late. He has arrived for the iPad with a terrible attitude. 

Lando N. I hate all of you.

— 

Subject: Workplace Conduct Reminder – Inclusivity & Respect at McLaren

From: HR Department To: All McLaren Racing Staff Date: [Sunday, post-race, 10:42 PM]

Dear Team,

As the season continues and tensions rise both on and off the track, we’d like to take a moment to remind everyone of McLaren’s core values — collaboration, respect, and inclusion.

We are incredibly proud of the diversity across our team, from engineering to strategy, operations to communications. Every person is here because they bring something exceptional to the table — and that includes our colleagues who may experience or perceive the world differently than others.

We ask that all team members remain mindful of the following:

Neurodiversity is not a barrier — it is an asset. Please be conscious of language and behaviour that may unintentionally alienate or diminish the contributions of individuals who may process things differently. This includes members of our extended team, trusted advisors, and collaborators who work closely with us — regardless of job title or official role.

“Vibes” are not a metric — Judging someone’s energy, personality, or communication style is not only unprofessional but also unfair. Everyone representing or contributing to McLaren, formally or informally, deserves respect.

Support one another — Whether someone wears McLaren orange full-time or contributes behind the scenes, everyone here plays a part in our collective success.

Rumours are not culture — Let’s keep paddock gossip out of professional spaces. If you have concerns, we encourage you to speak directly to your manager or HR.

This message is not in response to any one incident but rather a gentle pit stop reminder: our team functions best when everyone feels seen, heard, and safe.

If you have any questions or want to speak to someone in confidence, please feel free to reach out to HR directly. We’re here to help.

Kind regards, The McLaren Racing HR Team [hr@mclarenracing.co.uk]

— 

iMessage — 11:40pm

Lando Yo, did you see the email?

Carlos Sí.

Lando Kinda hardcore. Glad Zak did something 

Carlos Somebody said something to Amelia?

Lando Yeah someone in PR idk I feel like I should know more about her stuff I feel stupid tho. Like I don’t know anything. Just that she’s Amelia yano 

Carlos I did some reading. Come to my hotel room. We eat pizza. I will teach you what I know and we can google the rest.

Lando Legend. Thanks, mate.

— 

The course he took her to wasn’t flashy — quiet, tucked away, the kind of place her dad’s friends would never be caught dead in. That was intentional. They weren’t exactly hiding their… friendship, but they weren’t trying to advertise it either.

Amelia stared down at the club he’d handed her like it was a piece of martian debris.

“This is very stupid,” she muttered. “Pointless, really.”

“It is,” Lando agreed, his lips twitching. “Just hit the ball.”

She squinted at the tiny white ball he’d settled on the grass in front of her. “Is it supposed to just… go?”

“Yes.”

“Like in a line?” she clarified, glancing at him.

He shrugged. “In theory.”

She swung. Missed.

Lando clapped anyway. “Incredible form. I’ve never seen such calculated failure.”

“It was bad,” she said seriously. “I didn’t hit the ball. I made a hole in the grass, Lando.” She stared down at the muddy crater with quiet horror.

He just gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing for her to try again.

She sighed, feeling the beginning of a stress rash creep along her neck. But she tried again. And that time, she hit it — not far, just a lazy roll across the grass — but enough to surprise herself. Lando caught the way her eyes widened, saw the exact moment the thrill overtook her frustration.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed her another ball.

They kept going like that for a while — her slowly getting the hang of it, him slipping in dumb jokes and patient explanations between swings. She never asked for help, but he noticed how closely she watched every move he made. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating.

Eventually, she dropped to the grass with a dramatic sigh and said, “Why do people think this is relaxing? I’m hot and my legs are tired.”

Lando chuckled and sat beside her, kicking his legs out long. “I think it’s relaxing. Your dad likes it.”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad. It makes me stressed.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

She pulled at a blade of grass, rolled it between her fingers. “He told me again that it would be better if I stayed away from you. He said it would make things easier. For me. For you. For the team.” She continued. 

Lando let the silence sit for a moment before asking, his voice quiet and slightly unsure. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I want him to not worry. I want him to trust me. I want…” She hesitated, frowning at the grass. “I want to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I might wreck everything.” 

“You’re not wrecking anything,” Lando said. He tapped the ground next to her leg and she glanced at him, blinking. “I like hanging out with you.” He told her. 

She didn’t say anything, just flicked the blade of grass from her fingers and looked at the trees that surrounded the course. “I don’t know what I feel yet,” she said finally. “Toward you, I mean. But I know that I have liked this. Today. Not the golf. Being with you.”

Lando grinned — couldn’t help himself. Probably looked like a right knob, but he didn’t care. “Want to keep playing?” He asked. 

She gave him a look. “I might get fined for ruining so much of their grass.”

He handed her another ball. Shrugged. Smirked. “It’s fine. I make a lot of money.” 

She rolled her eyes.

— 

Amelia shut her bedroom door with more force than she meant to and leaned against it, breath caught high in her chest like she’d just ran a marathon. Her bag hit the floor. Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t know why. Except; she did.

Her body was full of something too big. Too much. A knot of heat and noise and confusion that had no exit. It felt like all the inside parts of her were pressing outward, like she might split open if she didn't stay still.

She pressed her palms hard into her eyes like she could push it all back in. But it was already too late. The thoughts were everywhere; spilled oil, tangled cords, static static static. Her brain wouldn’t quiet down. Wouldn’t give her space to think.

She’d had a good day. That was the worst part. 

Lando had been good.

He never looked at her like she was difficult. He didn’t act like she was hard work. When she didn’t catch onto something the first time, he just explained again. No sighing. No staring. No pretending. Things weren’t easy with him, not exactly, but they were lighter. Easier.

She sat hard on her bed and the tears came without warning; fast, silent, relentless.

She didn’t cry often. Usually she just shut down. Usually the wall slammed down before anything could spill out. But this time everything had slipped past it, and now she was sobbing, but it didn’t even feel like crying. It felt like her whole nervous system had shattered.

A knock at the door.

“Amelia?” her mum’s voice, soft. “We just got back. Can I come in?”

She didn’t answer. Just turned her face away and wiped at it, even though the tears kept falling. Her skin was already stinging. Her chest was tight.

The door creaked open.

“I’m not upset,” Amelia said fast, panicked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why I feel like this. No. I do. I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t want to talk about it—except I do. I do, I just—” She broke off, swallowing hard.

Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, calm. Grounding.

“I went out with Lando today,” Amelia said, too fast. “To play golf. His idea. He said we should do something fun. So I did. And it was fun. I didn’t freak out or embarrass myself. I didn’t ruin it. I didn’t ruin it.”

She dug her nails into her palms. Her face was blotchy and sore.

“He makes me feel normal,” she whispered. “Not small. Not like a problem. Just… me. And now I don’t know what I feel. I think I want him to be my friend. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Her mum asked calmly.

Amelia blinked at her, and then, like someone flicked a switch, the anger surged. Hot and fast, like a fever.

“Because of Dad,” she spat. “Because he thinks that it would be a distraction. Because he thinks I’ll screw everything up just by being around. Like I’m some walking disease that’s gonna infect Lando’s entire career. I know that’s what he’s worried about the most.”

She was breathing too fast. Her limbs were twitching now, hands clenching and unclenching.

“I don’t have friends,” she said. “You know that. I’ve never had friends. Not ones that stay. I get too intense. Too blunt. Too weird. Too tired. And people always stop trying.”Her voice cracked. Her throat burned. “But Lando didn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. And it’s still not enough. I still don’t get to have this one good thing without it turning into a problem.”

The sobs came back, messy and loud this time. She stood up too fast, swaying. Her hands started moving uncontrollably at her sides; jerky, uncoordinated. A warning sign. The meltdown was building and she couldn’t stop it, could never stop it. 

Her mum stood too, moving slow, blocking her path without touching her.

“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to think about any of that right now.” Her mom’s attempts to comfort her were useless against the onslaught of emotions she was feeling. 

“I’m so angry,” Amelia choked out. “I finally feel calm, I finally feel seen, and it’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to want something or feel something if it’s inconvenient for anyone else!”

She was trembling now. Her skin felt wrong. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to scream and break things. Instead, she clenched her fists and shook and shook and shook.

“Do you want me to get your things?” her mum asked, voice calm, anchoring.

Amelia nodded hard. “Yes. My weighted blanket. And the golf ball. It’s in my bag. Lando bought it for me and I want to hold it. It’s yellow.”

“I’ll get everything,” her mum said gently.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Amelia shouted, the volume jarring even to herself. “I’m trying so hard. All the time. I’m always trying.”

“I know,” her mum said. “And I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Amelia slid to the floor. Her body folded in on itself, hands clawed into her sleeves, breathing uneven.

The noise in her head kept rising.

Usually, this was when she wanted her dad. Wanted him to sit next to her. Watch a race in silence. Be there without asking anything of her.

But not now.

Now, all she wanted was for him to stay far, far away.

— 

It was almost midnight.

Her room was quiet now; weighted blanket pulled up to her chest, lights off, only the soft blue glow of her phone screen lighting her face. The golf ball sat in her right hand, warm from where she’d been holding it for hours. She kept rolling it between her fingers, feeling the small ridges, the smoothness. Grounding.

She had stopped shaking, but her body was aching like one big bruised muscle. 

She stared at the message thread with Lando, her thumb hovering, retreating, hovering again.

She didn’t know what to say.

Everything in her head still felt too big. Too messy. But the quiet between them was worse. Not bad, not uncomfortable, just... unfamiliar. She wanted to talk to him. 

Finally, she started typing. 

— 

iMessage — 10:11pm

Amelia I didn’t enjoy golf very much. But I liked being with you. Thank you for inviting me.

Lando Norris I’m glad you came anyway We had fun though, right? I had fun :)

Amelia Yes, I had fun. It was confusing. But in a good way. I liked learning something new.

Lando Norris I liked today too You were kind of great We should do more new things together. Just us

Amelia Maybe. I feel strange tonight. My head is a bit loud.

Lando Norris That’s alright

Amelia Do you think if I asked you questions about your Formula Three races… you would answer them?

Lando Norris Absolutely I’d love that Haven’t talked about F3 in ages Might be nice to remember

Amelia Okay. What did it feel like the first time you won?

Lando Norris Like my hands knew before I did Like the whole world stopped for one second so I could catch up It felt… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be ya know 

Amelia Oh

Lando Norris: You okay?

Amelia: I forgot all the questions I had for you. Sorry.

Lando Norris That’s okay. Don’t worry. Your brain’s probably sleepy. It’s late Are you tired?

Amelia Yes. I got upset earlier for no reason and it’s made me tired I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you for texting me back. Goodnight.

Lando Norris You don’t have to thank me for that I like talking to you Feel better soon, yeah? Goodnight x

— 

The house was still, the kind of stillness that only came after a storm.

Tracy sat on the couch in the dark, legs curled beneath her, a half-cold mug of tea resting in her hands. She hadn’t moved since she’d come downstairs after leaving Amelia. The couch blanket was draped over her shoulders, but she still shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of witnessing her daughter’s pain. 

Zak entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, tie loose, shoulders slumped, guilt etched deep into the lines around his eyes. After a long moment, he crossed the room and sat down beside her.

Tracy didn’t look at him. Just murmured, “She’s asleep now. I checked a minute ago.”

Zak nodded slowly. “She didn’t ask for me.”

“She didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want help. Just needed space.” Tracy’s voice cracked, but she kept it steady. “She was barely holding on, Zak. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said too quickly. “I just… I thought I was protecting her.”

“I know you did,” Tracy replied gently.

Zak stared at the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt her like this. I thought—” He faltered. “I thought keeping her away from Lando would keep things simple. Keep her safe. From getting hurt. Or confused. Or from people talking. From getting her hopes up.”

“You didn’t trust her,” Tracy said. Not accusing, just honest.

Zak exhaled hard. “No. I didn’t trust him.”

Tracy finally turned to look at him. “But he’s been good to her. You’ve seen that, surely.” 

“I have,” Zak admitted, tersely. 

“But it wasn’t on your terms,” Tracy said. “So you didn’t like it.”

Zak didn’t argue.

“She’s not a problem to solve, Zak. She’s our daughter. And she’s doing something incredibly brave. She’s opening up. She’s connecting. That’s huge for her.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “God, I know. I just…” He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been someone safer?”

“Because love isn’t safe,” Tracy said. “And friendship isn’t simple. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel okay in your skin, even just for a little while, that’s not a risk for someone like her. That’s a lifeline.”

Zak leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked hollowed out. “I feel like I’ve completely blown it.”

“You haven’t,” Tracy said gently. “But you will if you keep pushing like this. If you keep trying to prevent something that is starting to seem pretty much inevitable.” 

Zak was quiet.

“She loves you,” Tracy added. “But she can’t keep fighting you on this. Not when she’s also fighting herself. That kind of pressure… it’ll break her.”

That landed like a stone. He blinked against the sting in his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

Tracy leaned into him and kissed the rough edge of his jaw. “You’re a good father, Zak. She knows that. She’ll forgive you.”

Zak didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the dark hallway.

“She didn’t ask for me,” he said again, softer this time. Raw. Frayed.

Tracy sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, honey.”

— 

The flat was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional thump of bass through the wall from the upstairs neighbours. Lando sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes unfocused on the muted Rally Car stream playing on the TV. Max was in the kitchen, one sock on, microwaving some disastrous smelling leftover curry.

“You ever liked someone,” Lando said suddenly, not looking up, “so much that even the idea of them ruining your life doesn’t sound that bad?”

Max made a noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Christ, mate. What brought that on?”

Lando shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve just been thinking.”

“About Amelia?” Max asked, already knowing. He padded over and dropped into the armchair opposite, bowl in his lap.

Lando exhaled slowly. “I really fucking like her. It doesn’t make sense. She’s, I mean— Jesus, I don’t know. Feels like I can breathe right around her, you know?”

Max didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the curry and watched the screen for a second. Then, gently: “Yeah. I get that. But... Come on, mate. You sure this isn’t a bit too much, too fast?”

Lando looked over. Frowned. “What do you mean?”

Max shifted, trying to find words. “It’s not just about liking someone. It’s about who she is. Like, she’s your boss’s daughter. That’s... not insignificant here.”

“I know that.” Lando bit back. 

“Okay. But do you really know what it means? If something goes wrong, if it ends, and ends messy, it’s not like you can just walk away. There’s no possibility of a clean break with her.” 

Lando was quiet, but his jaw tightened.

“I’m not trying to scare you off,” Max added quickly. “I just... I know how much you’ve worked for this. Since you were, what, six? Your whole life’s been about driving. Being the best. And now you’re closer than ever.”

“I’m not giving up racing,” Lando snapped, defensive before Max even finished.

“I didn’t say you were,” Max snapped right back at him. “I just don’t want you to stop being Lando Norris: F1 driver and become Lando Norris: the guy who fucked around with his boss’ daughter, you know?”

Lando stared down at his hands. He felt like a piece of shit as he said, “Zak’s basically said the same thing. So has my dad.”

Max nodded. “‘Cause we’re all thinking the same thing, mate.” 

Lando rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his hood up. “Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. “Maybe this isn’t... good timing.”

Max didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, quiet again.

And Lando hated that suddenly it felt like all of their reasons made sense.

— 

The air was different now. Cooler. Thinner. The sun still came through her window in the morning, but it didn’t cling to the walls the same way. The trees had started to shift, just barely, into that pre-autumn colour. And Amelia felt like she was holding her breath all the time. For something. For nothing.

She hadn’t spoken to Lando for days. Not since she'd sent him a photo of the coffee shop in town that had spelled her name wrong again, and all she got back was a laughing emoji. No reply. No question. Just that.

It felt like a door closing very slowly. 

She was sitting in the bay window of her bedroom, blanket around her shoulders, golf ball in one hand and her phone in the other. It was the fourth time she'd opened their chat and closed it again. The most recent messages sat there like ghosts. 

—

iMessage — 9:04am

Amelia Hope you’re not too tired from training. 

—

Read. Two days ago. No response.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to write that wouldn’t sound… needy. Or hurt. Or desperate. God, she hated the idea of being too much. It made her skin itch. She didn’t want to become exactly what people were always assuming that she’d be.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, her thoughts, her everything. But it hurt in a way she didn’t understand; this slow, quiet loss. It hurt in a way she didn’t have a name for. It felt a lot like emptiness.

“Don’t spiral,” she whispered to herself, rocking gently, rhythmically. “Don’t spiral. Don’t spiral.”

But it felt like she already was.

— 

Both McLaren cars DNF’d in Belgium; the first race back after the Summer break.

She’d written it down two hours before lights out — in the margin of an old notebook, under a page of technical notes she hadn’t meant to be looking at anymore. The exact reason. The probable lap. A strange little instinct that curled in her gut and told her today’s not going to go the way they want it to.

She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer, and told herself it didn’t matter.

Nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever ask. Because she wasn’t in the garage. Wasn’t in the paddock. Wasn’t even watching from the hospitality suite like she always did, like clockwork.

She was in Woking. In her bedroom. As far from Lando’s garage, from the paddock, as she could possibly be.

And on the TV, when the Sky Sports commentator mentioned her absence like it was some small anomaly (“No sign of Amelia Brown in Norris’ McLaren garage today. Odd, considering she rarely misses a weekend”) she didn’t feel flattered or seen or missed.

She felt sick.

Like the air got thinner the second they said her name.

So she turned it off.

Just like that.

The screen went dark. The sound cut out. And for the first time in ten years, she didn’t watch the entire race.

Not because she didn’t want to. 

But because it hurt too much.

NEXT CHAPTER

[welcometololaland]

Fic Rec Friday - Round Up Part 2

Thanks to everyone who participated this week - the theme was: rec a fic starting with the same letter as your name / username. I have a list below, but I only included ones people tagged me in or ones I could find from the #fic rec friday tag. If I've missed any, please let me know!

Please read at your own discretion. Heed tags and ratings on each individual fic. Keep yourself safe, friends!

Also PSA - the rec lists were super long this week so i'm so sorry if i have stuffed up a link or accidentally put someone in the wrong category!

911 Lone Star (part 2) (needed to be split into 2 posts this week!)

Sanctuary by @reyescarlos

Say You’ll Remember Me by @myemergence

Searching For A Trail to Follow Again by @sunshinestrand

Seven Ways Back to You (series) by Lolaland (me)

Slowly Becoming Lovers by @morganaspendragonss

So Many Somethings by @iboatedhere

somebody to you by @reyescarlos

Soon by @rmd-writes

snapshots by @sanjuwrites

still we’re holding on by @rosedavid

sweetest devotion by @reyescarlos

Teardrop on the Fire by @carlos-in-glasses

The Many Names of TK Strand by tabbytabbytabby

The Marriage Tamales by @bellakitse

The Ring In by Lolaland (me) and ifyoustay

the ruins of wonderland by @carlos-in-glasses

The Sex Pollen Incident by @hoko-onchi-writes

The Space in Between by @fortunatelydecaffeinateddinosaur

to live for the hope of it all by @strandnreyes

to which there is no reply by @reyesstrand

Two Hearts gone black and blue by paperstorm

Two paper airplanes flying by @liminalmemories21

Vet Pups and Set Ups by @iboatedhere

View from the Top by @bellakitse

What Family Does by AShortWalkToDelinquency

What You See Will Be by @thevenstar

When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door by @liminalmemories21

when I’m like this, you’re the one I want by @thebumblecee

White by @chaotictarlos and paperstorm

Wings Are Frayed by @iboatedhere and @pragmatic-optimist

911

hate to say i spent it all on masquerades by @hattalove

i don’t think that we should have friendly sex, anymore by @capseycartwright

i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by @gayhoediaz

Make it pretty for me. by @snarky-drabbles

Our story's been heartache and wonder by @tails89

The Shift by @popfly

whenever you call me, i'll be there by ipretendtobesane

with every heartbeat I have left by iriswests

Black Sails

i might believe a good deal of it, too by explosiontimothy

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Raspberry Sherbet by theclaravoyant

Repudiate and Disavow by mystery_ink

Check Please!

A Whole Different Kind of Light by @porcupine-girl

As We Run, We Become by @iboatedhere

at certain times by @parvuls

Chris Chow, Matchmaker Extraordinaire by 42hrb

Cromwell Cinematic Universe (series) by @sincerelyreidburke

Crossed Wires by @lecrivaineanonyme

Theatre Building, Dec. 6 by @cricketnationrise

There Have Been Five Kisses by @cricketnationrise

Good Omens

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too by @thebibliosphere

Inception

Wherever You Will Be (That's Where I'll Call Home) [The DomesticVerse] (series) @gyzym

Loki

A can of josta by @jim-jam-gem

Cold, Cold Heart by @amadness2method

Marvel Cinematic Universe

take it or leave it by kellifer_fic

Merlin

in a field of dandelions by @princess-of-the-worlds

It's Not in the Way that You Came Back to Me by nie_narzekam

Parks and Recreation

It's a Strange Paradise by CongressmanNoJaw

[twixxee]

✨PSA for the 2025 season of F1✨

My favorite driver is Carlos Sainz, so you will see a lot of him on this blog. I support him to the moon and back and will defend him and won’t apologize for it. Don’t like him then this blog isn’t for you

I also love and support Alex Albon and you will see a lot of him on this blog. I will defend him and won’t apologize for it.

I also love and support Lando Norris and want the very best for him.

There are some drivers I don’t like but I won’t spend much of my time hating on them. I spend most of my time and energy on the drivers I do like.

The team I am rooting for is Atlassian Williams Racing and there are teams I don’t like Ferrari. (for known reasons)

I’m also not going to pit Carlos and Alex against each other, they are teammates who work together to bring their team forward, and if I see people do that I will block them so fast.

If this isn’t for you then kindly fuck off

[pressradio]

PSA . I’m a Carlos hater.

He won on merit, he got pole. It’s his first proper race from start to finish he handled it well (for example he didn’t do a George). But he won thanks to the team strategy. And sacrificed Charles chances twice. I get the no swap of course. And the first pit stop was unlucky timing. But the second one was proper sacrifice because they knew without him Merc would have gone past. And Carlos was not the fastest. He got the edge on quali those past t9 races but still not in race. Team wise I understand the choice : a win was needed for Ferrari. And as Charles said he should have done better Saturday (except if he did better I don’t think the strategy would have worked because the teammate is Carlos who doesn’t want to help or isn’t able to like Charles can. Not even talking about 2022 but just Austria this year is telling)

What’s bothering me A LOT is how they don’t protect Charles. AKnowledge his work and how it contributed to the team result. And protect him from those narratives that hurt the team and also Charles who is supposed to be their driver for the long term project.

You don’t see that at Mercedes for example (RB is another story I can’t support what they do to their second drivers or even the AT drivers).

He handled it well, but he wasn't fast enough. That's why they need teem work at all. I didn't watched the race, but I think that the win for Charles could have been possible with Seb-style undercut, but it's too risky and let's say unfair to Carlos who did his best in quali (who cared about fairness in 2019 lol)

I think Ferrari went too much into "we are modern tiktok team, post thirst traps, say any shit that you want". I get that SM admins shouldn't get hate for team stupid decisions, but they are kinda a part of the problem with their wording and lack of acknowledging Charles work (I'll never forgive them for not existing Australia anniversary)

[lovesick-all-over-my-bed]

SPOILERS AHEAD psa dont watch 9-1-1: lone star if you cry easily. WHY ARE THEY CANCELING IT AND GIVING THEM ALL SAD ENDINGS. TK and Carlos don’t have Jonah, Tommy DIED, and Matteo is being deported 😭 wtf Fox News 😭😭😭😭😭 I hate you

[jenson-buttocks]

?? HOW are you a better fan if you support your drivers teammate im so confused 😭😭

look, i have given up trying to see logic through like 30% of the asks i get on here. a lot of them are rants that i read but don’t publish (most of the time it’s people just wanting to get something off their chest and my inbox is always open for that), most of them are people sharing their lando love with me which i just love so so much 🥰 and then there’s the portion where it’s either hate aimed at me for being fucking fabulous or hate aimed at a driver i love because people’s brains are rotten and they don’t know how to behave on the internet. but yeah, psa: i do not under any circumstances support ferrari or their driver charles. i don’t and i won’t. ferrari is not my team, they’re my most behated actually so i really couldn’t care less if they and charles dnf for the whole of 2023. i’m a carlos fan, and i will stay a carlos fan despite me still thinking he was quite disrespectful towards lando this weekend (but that’s just on me lmao, they’re still the bestest of friends but i’m gonna allow myself to be offended on lando’s behalf for a day or two more).

[fanfiction-blep]

I had a thought

What if the Decedents kids went to Hogwarts. What houses would they be put into?

also i do not Support JK Rowling's recent comments on Transgender women and as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community i support my transgender's sisters, brothers and siblings

another PSA, i wrote this about a year and a half ago, and couldn’t bring myself to finish after Cameron passed away i know i didn’t know him personally  it still impacted me in a way i felt odd writing about one of his characters :) 

One: Mal

SLYTHERIN

Ok ok so before you shoot me hear me out. Mal would 100% be a Slytherin think about it she's cunning, she's very ambitious. She reaches her goals and maybe not in the way she aims to at first. but she still dose it. She's also a strong leader. You can imagine she being queen be of the Slytherins. And being a very out spoken person, but following her mother's beliefs she bullied and tormented Muggle Born's and first years. You know casting hex's and unleashing horrid spells those would be her fortae. This would all be a cover up though. No one but her mother knows who her father is so there is much question about her blood status and weather her father is actually a muggle. So Mal over compensates. She's doesn't allow time for emotion or for second guessing her actions. Instead she goes out of her way to be the meanest, baddest Slytherin in her year. And the worst Hogwarts had seen in a long time. That was until she met Ben, ben taught her compassion and not to care what people think of her. He taught her love something her mother never could, which leads me too.

Two: Ben

HUFFLEPUFF

Ok hear me out. Yeah he's a strong guy who'd you'd normally place in Gryffindor. But that doesn't mean he is. Yes he is born leader in the sense he is a prince that doesn't mean that he is a natural, he works very hard on making sure everyone is happy and that no one is left out. He messes up and and tries to make it right straight away. He's adorable and just wants to help people. But he's strong will as well and sticks to his guts. Everyone wants to be Ben's friend just as everyone should have a Hufflepuff friend. He looks out for his fellow students regardless of house. His dad being a pure blood Noble born and his mother a muggle born. He was placed in Hufflepuff like his mother and thrives there. But not everyone likes him, even if he helps them he will often get a very negative response. "Blood traitor" "muggle lover" ect but it's when he finds Mal tormenting a young Hufflepuff he finds his biggest challenge. He went way out of his way to prove to himself and Mal that she had a heart and that she was a good person she just hadn't had the right person to show her that yet.

Three: Evie

RAVENCLAW

I am NOT saying this because she wears blue! Although that did make this even better. I chose ravenclaw for Evie because she is smart. She's intelligent and she has an passion for learning she is very creative. I mean come on that girl makes her own outfit's! And loves making them for other People. Over time she becomes less dependent on what her mother taught her and become independent in herself and relays on her own experience not her mother's. She also learns to accept, she accepts her heritage and all that she must learn not to do in life from it. She accepts that she can be smart, funny and creative and not have to hide herself for a guy to like her.. ALSO can we talk about the fact she took another guy's homework load on top of her own AND was making her own cloths. Who the hell other than a Ravenclaw would give enough shits to make sure all her work got done. Regardless of weather or not she should have been doing others work for them. She still did it and did it well (remember she didn't get caught) she seems like the type that would absolutely help the younger students, like ones who move out or run away from home shes like “hey its okay i’m your MUM now :)” and makes them cloths helps them study and acutlly takes them home because i’m damn sure her and Mal have a house together by this point. and she helps whoever she can even if they are not a Ravenclaw

Four: Jay

Gryffindor

Don’t start but i definitely think Jay would have been a Gryffindor, the sporty thing kind of pulled me there but its coupled with the fact that the traits “brave and reckless” seam to fit him very well. if we look back at jay he fits in with the family mentality that most Gryffindor’s have. the protectiveness of the girls and Carlos show as he doesn't really leave their side. and lets be honest its pretty freaking brave of someone to stand up against everything you have ever been taught. like come-on Jafar as a father and this kid still became part of a team and stuck by those who stuck by him. he seems like the type to HATE quiditch at first and then ben gets him into it and he’s like well if the soft boi said so while rolling his eyes and he’s BOMB ass good at it, and helps the whole team. he also seems like the type to actually not give a Fuck at all, unless you mess with the younger kids, he doesn't pay much attention to kids in other houses cus their older members eventually get involved in but his house becomes his family and he acts like it 

Five: Carlos

Hufflepuff 

okay so i thought Carlos would be difficult but i saw this GIF and instantly though our boy is a huffl for sure. i mean naturally Hufflepuff's are naturals with animals and as we know so if Carlos he is afraid of dude because of what his mother taught him but he realizes that dogs even animals in general are NOT scary and he becomes the softest boi. lets also take into consideration he is very loyal to his friends, his mother HA (i mean she defo deserved it) but you can also see in the scenes he has with his mum hes super uncomfortable with her teachings and even look at this Scene the way his mother is speaking to him, his loyalty is instant its earned, he is loyal to those who prove they are worthy like his friends. we see in D2 that when Mal is upset but the girls lead off the talk he wasn't having any of it he wanted to be involved he wanted to help and look after his friends. he also seems like a newt Scamander type, like he would have a room or place somewhere in the castle where he has kept all his amazing little animals. boi would have ALL THE NIFFLERS omg. i cannot even begin to imagine when the nifflers have babies he keeps them with him at all times and it just like a protective older brother. he doesn't see animals as animals in a ‘lesser’ than me way, he sees them as creatures that cannot vocalize in the same way he can and need protecting and sees it as a joy to do so. and the one time someone hurts a magical creature around him, he gets into a fight and GODDAMN wins cus no one messes with his cuties, he pays for it, for a long time but he doesn't care  

[luxuryjones]

Fuck everything about the cycle of fucking life. Fuck the natural order of living and dying. I fucking hate it all so much. I’m dying as I write this, every day a little more we’re crumbling and dying even if you living your best life you’re dying. And you have no idea what your stop clock is set for. Or anyone that you love. And this isn’t a PSA on the importance of stopping to tell the people and dogs in your life just how important they are, or how very much you love them. Because that doesn’t fucking matter either. I told him. All day every day, and he still died. And I have a cool job and a big apartment & I’m skinny because I’m sad and cheap, and I have a glorious wardrobe that I barely wear and I have a precious miracle baby extra fluffy cuddly rescue dog that I love so so much. And I quit drinking and doing drugs more than 2 years ago and I go to barre class all the time and I’ve had an amazing life full of New York Best Seller worthy stories. But none of it makes me miss my Carlos any less. I realize I am so blessed, I don’t take it for granted. Other people love their dogs a lot and maybe they aren’t as fortunate as me but they’re devastated and heartbroken but probably have to go work at Macy’s in Glendale every day, and they don’t have the luxury I have of working from home a lot and having more freedom and time to grieve. But I just want to scream because none of that matters!!!! I just miss him and I hate existing and the feeling of knowing I’m aging and crumbling and I’m just gonna get old and not be able to work someday and everything will hurt more and I’ll just be in this big cold apartment, boney and forgetful without him. When something/one is irreplaceable and they are taken away, they leave, they die. There is nothing that can comfort that one part of you that only they could. And it’s just so hard to go on without him. It’s very challenging to keep your chin up and look at the bright side when HE WAS THE BRIGHT-SIDE. Now they’re are just sides. And they don’t sparkle and everything feels, not even painted black. That would be Keith Richards cool. Everything is primer grey on a 1995 Chevy Cavalier. Fuck everything rn. 💔 https://www.instagram.com/p/B52L2HXFnRu/?igshid=8gwxg80bgcjk

[bunny-lou]

Is there anyway you could write another jaylos fanfic where Carlos or Jay or both! Are having some sort of panic attack?! Idk why but they're my favorites.

Enjoy!

As a PSA to anyone reading, I don’t have anxiety and had one panic attack last year, but it was pretty minor compared to what panic attacks can actually be. This portrayal of a panic attack is not well-researched, so don’t yell at me if this is incorrect!

“Jasmine and Aladdin want to meet me.”

Carlos turns to him and, thankfully, his reaction is kept to a minimum. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they, uh,” Jay swallows and rubs his palms on his pants. “They sent me a letter.”

“Do you want to meet them?”

Jay grins and flips his hair. “Yeah. It’s whatever. I’m not scared.”

—

“We got our tickets today.” Jay holds up two pieces of stock paper for Carlos to see. “First class. That’s cool.”

Carlos hums, but doesn’t look at the tickets. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He takes a step closer to Jay. “You look really pale.”

“Dude, when am I ever not okay?” Jay laughs because it helps pass off the trembling of his hands as something nonchalant. “We’re leaving in two weeks. It’ll be cool, I guess.”

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Carlos tells him softly. “If you’re worried or you don’t want-.”

“I do. I want to go. It’s fine.”

—

“I stole a girl’s bracelet today.” Jay says lightly, ignoring the pang of guilt. “Do you think Evie would like it?”

“Why did you steal it?”

“Habit, I guess.” Like how you clean obsessively and match everything you wear. But Jay doesn’t want to be rude. He knows Carlos is asking for a reason.

“You only relapse when you’re nervous.”

It’s weird to hear relapse apply to them. Jay always thought it was for drug addicts, the few that could find their high on the Isle, but it’s for him and Carlos and Mal and Evie too. Sliding back into bad behavior. Returning to their worst state. A reminder that they can always slip up and fall back to be evil.

“Are you? You know, nervous?”

“About what?”

“We leave in three days for Agrabah.”

Jay tries not to scowl. Carlos is pushing, but Jay doesn’t want to be a dick. Carlos has had people be mean to him his whole life, he doesn’t deserve Jay’s anger, even if it’s maybe a little deserved. “No, man. Totally cool.”

—

At night, Jay worries the bracelet between his fingers. His collection has grown in the past two days. More bracelets, plus necklaces and wallets and watches and a couple of phones.

Stealing used to solve everything. It brought him food, a welcome to the shop, sometimes affection from Jafar, but in Auradon it’s making it all worse and the worse it gets, the more Jay wants to steal and the more he steals, the worse-.

“Are you okay?”

“I said I’m fucking fine!” The bracelet in his fingers snaps and Jay hardly notices it. “I’m fine, this trip is fine, stop asking me if I’m okay. I’m not scared of fucking royalty, dude!”

In the dark, he can see that Carlos doesn’t move. He stays perfectly still and perfectly quiet for the rest of the night.

—

It’s not a surprise when Jay stands at the edge of school grounds on his own. He wouldn’t want to travel to a new country with an ass like him either.

But it hurts to look to left and not see Carlos.

Whatever, he should do this alone anyway. He’s not a baby, he’s not some scared child who can’t face the people who banished him to an Isle of trash and hate, he’s not pathetic.

“Breathe,” Jay mumbles to himself, clenching the handle of his luggage. “Breathe, breathe.”

He is in control, he has this. Everything is okay. He can go alone and come back alone and Jasmine and Aladdin won’t hate him, they can’t. 

Everything is okay. He is okay.

“Thank Hades, you haven’t left yet!”

When Jay turns around, his eyebrows raise. Carlos is struggling to carry a bag that weighs as much as him, trekking along the path quickly. His hair is a mess and his shoes aren’t tied, but he’s here, in front of Jay, with Jay. He’s actually here.

“What, did you shut off my alarm this morning?” Carlos grunts as he drops his bag to the ground. “I woke up and freaked out, I thought for sure I was going to miss you.”

“You…still want to go?”

Carlos blinks at him and fans himself. “Of course I do. I’m not letting you go see Aladdin and Jasmine by yourself.”

“Even after I was-.”

“Yeah.”

People have treated Carlos like shit since he was born, including Jay. He used to be a bully, he used to steal from and trip Carlos in the halls, but then he changed and they became good and it was meant to be better, Jay was meant to be better.

Carlos ran from the people that treated him like shit, they all did. They left Cruella and Jafar and Maleficent and the Evil Queen. Carlos ran from Jay and Mal back when they ran Dragon Hall.

And Jay was awful last night. He was cold and mean and all of that anger came out onto Carlos and he didn’t say anything last night. Jay thought that maybe being a jerk after he was meant to be good would cost him Carlos forever.

But it hasn’t.

Carlos saw his anger, heard his frustration and his panic and saw the monster Jay could be, saw the son of Jafar again, but he didn’t leave. He’s here, he’s still here.

Jay’s whole frame shakes, but he doesn’t try to hide it. “You know how you said it’s okay if I’m not okay?”

“…Yeah.”

Jay gulps. “I don’t think I’m okay, C.” His eyes flit to the side and he grins his teeth. “I think…I’m scared.”

Carlos grabs his hand and pulls him to the ground. “What are you scared of?”

“That…that Jasmine and Aladdin will hate me. Or, not that they’ll hate me, no,” Jay shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m afraid they’ll be afraid of me. I’m afraid they’ll see Jafar and they’ll want to send me back.” To the Isle. To him.

���Deep breath, Jay. Inhale.”

He does and it stings. Maybe he forgot to breathe for a second there. “I’m scared that they’ll say I should be sent back. I’m scared that they’ll see my father in me. And…”

Carlos waits, silently, but here. He doesn’t wait and he doesn’t push.

“I’m scared that they’ll be right.” Jay whispers to the ground and secretly hopes that the gentle wind might cover his words.

It doesn’t.

“Oh, Jay.” Carlos murmurs and reaches for his hand again. It’s rough and calloused and his nails are bitten away, but his palm is so small compared to Jay’s.

Jay could hurt Carlos. He really could. He could hurt a lot of people. He has hurt a lot of people.

“They knew my dad better than anyone. Jasmine did, at least. He was in the palace since before she was born.” Jay clenches his hand - not the one holding Carlos because he won’t hurt Carlos, he won’t.

“Okay, look at me.” Why does Carlos sound so far away? Is he leaving? “Jay!”

He snaps his head up and locks eyes with Carlos.

“Follow my breaths,” he says. “In, two, three. Out, two, three. Jay, in. Breathe in.” Carlos punches his shoulder and Jay finally responds. “There! Okay. In, two, three. Out, two, three. Just like that. In, two, three…”

Slowly, his lungs stop burning, but when did they start? Jay follows Carlos’ lead, eye contact the whole time. His breathing returns in general, then returns to normal.

“Keep breathing, Jay.” Carlos inches closer, grabbing both of Jay’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You are so fucking insane if you think you are like Jafar. Out of your mind, Cruella crazy.” Carlos almost smiles. “The shit you do for people and don’t even think about. Giving Evie jewelry and buying Mal’s art supplies. You walk Dude when I have a test to study for and you bring me food in the library and you always offer me a blanket when it’s cold out.” Carlos squeezes Jay’s shoulders, lips trembling. “You are like the best person I’ve ever met. You do all these things for people and you don’t even realize it.

“But, last night…”

“You are about to meet the people who your father tried to kill and enslave. You’re going to meet the people who banished him - and you - to a floating prison.” Carlos takes a deep breath and moves one hand from Jay’s shoulder to his hair, brushing it behind his ear. “You are allowed to be upset about this. You can be moody and irritated and angry for as long as you want.”

Carlos shakily pulls Jay in and hugs him. It’s awkward with both of them on the ground, still sitting, though Carlos is half way in Jay’s lap at this point.

“But you’re not allowed to think that you’ll get sent to the Isle. We have a place here, we belong in Auradon.” Carlos mumbles and Jay brings his arms up to properly hug back. “And you don’t get to think you’re like Jafar, dude. You don’t ever get to think that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Carlos draws back and wipes at his eyes. “Do you still wanna go and meet Aladdin and Jasmine?” He shrugs, indifferent to how Jay answers. “We can go and I’ll be there the whole time or we can stay here and play video games. It’s all up to you.”

Jay pushes himself up and reaches down for Carlos. “I think I want to go.”

“Do you feel okay now?”

“No,” Jay shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “but I don’t have to.”

I kind of like how this came out, I hope you do too!

Please reblog if you wouldn’t mind sharing my work!

As always, I am open for requests, but I do not accept anonymous requests. Inbox is open and waiting!

[nerdylittoyvoid]

“Fall Risk” Pt. I

**A/N: This is my first fic I’ve ever written so I decided participating in @writinginstability‘s writing challenge was a great place to start! (Meaning that this way suck and also it’s pretty long oops) The start might seem kind of slow but I promise it’ll get more entertaining! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol

Pairing: Connor x female! reader (Y/N)

Synopsis: Y/N wants to show Connor what it means to be ‘alive’, but has some accidents along the way.

Being Hank’s niece had its’ downfalls; not hearing from Hank for weeks on end, having to pick him up in the middle of the night from random bars and him not letting Y/N take Sumo for a weekend (being the animal lover you are, Hank couldn’t trust that Y/N would give him back). Despite all of this, he was still your favorite uncle. Under his stern and gruff exterior was a soft soul with a wit sharper than a butcher’s knife, and a particular soft spot for Y/N.

She was only three when Hank’s son had passed away; old enough to remember him, but young enough to forget any details. Her mother had him over more often for several years following the young boy’s passing. She thought having what family he had left surrounding him would make him feel less alone. It didn’t stop his drinking or his hate for androids, but it did create an inseparable bond between Y/N and Hank.

At the age on 23, she was hired on as a rookie detective for the Detroit Police. She felt extremely grateful for finding the career she loved, and pushed herself to be the best she could. Then came the day that a fascinating android came in to help the precinct. Unlike her uncle, Y/N was elated, amazed by the technology by it all and attempted the best she could to work with the machine. Unfortunately for her, that job fell to her older, far more experienced uncle. She remembered meeting the android as if it was just a few weeks ago.

‘DING’

Y/N’s attention moved from her phone to the now opening elevator doors. Quickly scuttling in, she stood in the corner closest to the button panel, where she then pressed the highest level, where her office was. Y/N was helping her uncle out on these new cases with deviants, though her work consisted mainly of paperwork and research pertaining to the investigation of deviants. She let out a small sigh to herself. She loved her job, but she was itching to get out into the field. Something Hank was strongly against.

Y/N was so caught up in her own mind that she didn’t notice the android next to her, absentmindedly flipping a coin in between his hands. She grinned to herself. ‘Amazing how androids can pick up on human quirks’ she thought. To make matters better, (or worse), the android was gorgeous. His warm brown eyes, chocolate curls and square jaw were enough to make anybody swoon.  

She looked up at the android. Despite it being incredibly attractive, she was feeling rather bold today, as she sparked conversation, “Did cyberlife teach you that?”

The android caught the coin in between his index and middle fingers and turned to face the girl. This was when she finally noticed his tall stature. She was considerably shorter than him, her head staying level at his shoulder.

“Tossing this coin assists me in processing information and updates pertaining towards my software or investigations. I was programmed this hobby in order to properly assimilate myself in human society.”

And then she heard his voice. The slight monotone of his voice and rasp brought a light blush to her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

“Interesting! So,” Y/N stopped to read the model name on the android’s jacket, “RK800, you’re the model that’s assisting the precinct now?”

“That is correct. I am a prototype. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by Cyberlife”

“Well, Connor, my name is Y/N. I am a human from… well, nowhere really. My parents I suppose,” Y/N chuckled awkwardly.

She cursed herself for being this awkward, and once more for trying to flirt with a robot. “I’m the rookie detective at the DPD.”

Connor’s eyes twitched as his LED blinked yellow.

“Yes, I’ve already scanned you. It would appear that you were a product of your parents as well as billions of years of evolution- “

“Oh no,” Y/N chuckled, “I know that, I was just joking. Sorry, you look so…. Human. I forgot you probably weren’t programmed to analyze humor.”

Connor nodded, still facing closed elevator doors. “Cyberlife has programmed me with any and all software that will help me complete the deviant investigation. Any add-ons that are not beneficial to that mission is a waste of my attention.”

The elevator dinged as the doors opened allowing Y/N to take in the breathtakingly modern office for the DPD. Glass desks, paper thin computers along with the old, brick walls that surrounded the room, all creating a wonderful contrast between antique and modern. Y/N look down at the ground, slightly disappointed at the failed attempt for conversation.

‘He’s an android, Y/N. And your co-worker. Stop acting like a teenager!’ she thought.

Y/n pursed her lips together and turned to Connor before taking her leave. “Understood, it’s a pleasure meeting you.”

Connor’s face remained relatively emotionless, but still pertained an interested and polite expression. He awkwardly moved to the side and extended his arm to let his colleague through before replying, “You as well.”

After that encounter, Y/N started working more closely with Hank and Connor, coming with them to investigate the murder of Carlos Ortiz. She distinctly remembered playing “Don’t you put it in your mouth” from that one famous PSA after Connor analyzed some thyrium, (resulting in Connor’s confusion and Hank’s amusement). Then there was the time that she assisted the two at the Eden Club after reports of two deviant Traci’s. Slowly but surely, Connor started to warm up to her. He would wait at Y/N’s desk in the morning to give her a coffee and began attempting “small talk”, jokes, and compliments.

You were on your way back from the Eden Club with a very confused Connor. He had just spared the two Tracis. His face displayed a slight frown as his LED flashed between yellow and red. Y/N broke the awkward silence, her curiosity becoming too much. “What’s going through that wacky robot brain of yours, Connor?”

“I didn’t execute or apprehend the deviants. I have failed my mission.”

“What if sparing those two was the right thing to do? All they wanted was to be together, that in itself isn’t a crime.” Y/N asked.

“They are machines. The ‘love’ they feel is an error in their programming. They don’t feel,” Connor paused for a second, as if to rethink what to say next, “I acted as if I also had an error in my system. I am beginning to fear that I may be compromised.”

“Would that be such a bad thing? You already have some of the most cutting-edge investigative technology. You’re one of the best detectives in the DPD. What’s so bad about understanding what the deviants that you’re hunting are feeling?”

“It does not fall in line with my mission. I will be reset.”

“So, you worry, or fear that you will be reset?”

“I- well- I suppose that’s a good way of putting it.”

“Fear is an emotion, Connor. You’re becoming deviant.”

“I am not alive. I do not know what it is to be alive.”

Y/N pursed her lips in thought. Without another word, she put on her favourite album.

“What is this?” Connor asked, bewildered.

“You said you would like to try listening to music at some point, right?”

“Yes.”

“This album is called 21st Century Breakdown. It’s by an old band called Green Day, they have a rebellious streak. I listened to them since I was a kid.” Y/N smiled at the nostalgic feeling of listening to the music. Y/N face suddenly lit uo, it was as if a light bulb had appeared over her head. “I have an idea. Take my hand.”

“Why?”

“Shut up and don’t ask questions, Connor.” Y/N laughed at Connor’s confused expression. “’Tis only a joke. Come with me. I want to show you what it is to be alive.”

[cecilspeaks]

126 - A Door Ajar part 3

Always keep your eyes closed during a storm. Otherwise your soul will get all wet and mildewy.

Welcome to Night Vale.

I hate sounding like a news media alarmist, but a phantom ocean has completely destroyed Old Town. I mean, destroyed. Wave after wave of cold brine has entirely swept away the Old Town drawbridge. Which is a shame, because the city made considerable strides towards its completion in recent years. Also missing: a number of cars, pets, human beings, and the teetering stack of bath tubs that granted wishes. A more complete list of the missing items has been posted at the newly reopened Pancake House. Come on down to the Pancake House, check if any of your loved ones have been affected by this horrible disaster, and enjoy free hotcakes. One free hotcake per missing loved one.

The surviving residents of Old Town have been placed with compulsory volunteer host families throughout the rest of town. Many of the survivors of the recent shipwreck have finally been placed in their own permanent housing, and are now hosting flood victims. Having experienced recent displacement themselves, The Really Tall One, Dr. Shouty, Old Wood Teeth, Rebecca, and the Captain are proving to be elegant hosts, and have been reported to supply slipper socks, steamed hand towels and all natural calamari flavored toothpaste to their guests. This generosity has put many Night Vale residents, who initially complained about hosting the shipwreck survivors, to shame. You know who you are, and so do we. There’s a list of those who should be ashamed of themselves posted at the newly reopened Pancake House.

Sometimes I get really tired of negative reporting. As the most prominent voice in local current events, I feel like what I say and how I say it does make a difference in framing the attitudes of the people who listen. That, that’s a big responsibility. So I’ve been thinking, it’s important to focus on the positive things too. I’m gonna try to do that more. Starting now.

What I said before was an exaggeration. Old Town isn’t completely destroyed. Oh yes, it’s uninhabitable, and some people who live there are now non-living. But there’s a lot of beauty left there, too! I mean, one might look over Old Town from the roof of the Earth Sciences building and appreciate the miles of pristine, shining water. Water we desert-dwellers never get to see! All of the tragedy and destruction is almost totally invisible beneath the waves, so it’s actually pretty easy to ignore. Oh, and one architectural landmark does remain. The controversial new traffic roundabout is glowing with blue light, and can be seen just below the water line, and will be ready to use again… soon.

Speaking of the roof of the Earth Sciences building, I should tell you guys what happened with Carlos the other night. It went really well, mostly. I mean, he was very open about the fact that he’s been hiding something from me, but he said it wasn’t a big deal and he doesn’t want to talk about it. I know I said all I wanted was for him to admit something was bothering him, and that him pretending nothing was wrong was really what was driving me crazy. But it turns out that wasn’t true. Now I’m being driven crazy by not knowing what it is. I mean, what if it’s about me? Even if it’s not about me directly, the fact that he doesn’t feel comfortable telling me it has to be a problem with us, doesn’t it? We’re supposed to share everything with each other, aren’t we?

I couldn’t let it go, so I finally asked him to see a couples counselor with me. The Really Tall One, who until last week had been staying with my sister and her husband, got her counseling license last week, so we’re going to see her. I even get a discount since she’s become so close to my niece Janice. We have our first phone session together scheduled for later today. I’m, I’m really hoping we can get to the bottom of this so I can stop obsessing! I mean, a-and also so Carlos can let go of whatever is distracting him so much, and then we can both get back to distracting each other. The emotional complexities of sharing a life with another are all that’s on my mind. Also, the sudden ocean which destroyed Old Town.

Oh, breaking news on that: all members of the Marine Biology Association have been reported missing. Randy lance, Girl Scouts Splinter faction leader, reports that the GPS tracking devices she secretly adhered to the biologists’ shoe heels have stopped transmitting, and no one has seen any of the biologists in over 24 hours. Members of the Tourism Board have declined verbal comment, instead offering a giddy smile while waving a giant foam number 1 finger. And with no biologists to throw a tantrum about menacing biohazards hidden in an unsecured locker, members of the Tourism Board have gone out to the storage unit in Radon Canyon to relocate their secret aquarium of semi-animate clear jelly collected from our new ocean to a more public venue.

Making our flooding situation even worse is the hard rain. On the bright side, we don’t normally get much rain around these parts. The gentle percussion of water is so soothing! It reminds me of my new sleep meditation track, Bloodstorm. More on the weather in a moment, but first an update from Radon Canyon. I’ve received word that the blobs of semi-animate translucent jelly in the Tourism Board’s aquarium have fused together to form one giant jelly cube that now completely fills the 12 foot by 12 foot storage unit from wall to wall. Horrifically unnerved by this discovery, agents from the Tourism Board who went to recover the aquarium have all left Radon Canyon and hired the Really Tall One for private therapy sessions. Head of the Tourism Board, Madeline LeFleur, released a statement which only said: “Well crap”. LeFleur was last seen in full sprint toward the airport.

And now, a PSA.

Deb: Hello friends. This is Deb, a sentient and occasionally benevolent, patch of haze. Speaking for the Department of Motor Vehicles. We’ve had some complaints about our eyeball donation program. We want to emphasize we created this program with only the best intentions. We’re sure you understand that. According to a survey, people in the donation program have been very satisfied they can retain some sort of consciousness after death. However, they have been reportedly very unsatisfied with what their eyes continue to see. This has ranged from nonconsensual television viewing in the middle of a season they’re not caught up with, to the witnessing of crimes and subsequent ethical dilemma of testifying in court against their own host bodies.

We hear your concerns. And you know what? Fine. The eyeball donation checkbox will be discontinued on all new DMV forms. The DMV itself has also been discontinued. If you need any services from the DMV, please go to another town. Please don’t call or come to the office. If you see any DMV workers around town, [tearily] please don’t speak to them or acknowledge their presents. It’s obvious you don’t like them. It will only make this harder for all of us. We think a little space would be good for us right now. But we do want you to know we were only trying to something nice. We care deeply about our DMV customers and have only wanted the best for you. We know that doesn’t make it right, but no matter what, just remember: the DMV loves you. The DMV has always loved you. That’s the important thing. If we could afford the rights to that Green Day song, we’d play. Good knowing you. Love, the DMV.

Cecil: I want to get back to the Carlos stuff, listeners. I really need to talk this all out, but I keep getting breaking news updates. We finally have word on the missing biologists. That’s good news. We found them out in the Scrublands. The bad news is we were only able to find partially eaten pieces of them. With the leadership of the Marine Biologist Association vacated, Randy Lance declared herself and the Girl Scouts Splinter Faction as the city’s foremost experts in marine biology. Lance surmises there is an aquatic creature of large tooth size and insatiable hunger living in this new ocean. Lance speculated the biologists were engaged in a heroic attempt to study the marine biology abruptly available to them, when events took a tragic turn. The biologists’ loved ones clarified that the biologists were actually fleeing town under the cover of night and got caught in the worst possible intersection of time and space, dying an agonized and terror-filled death in the exact matter that comprised their worst collective nightmare.

“He died doing what he loved,” a spouse of one of the deceased said. “Running away from his problems.”

[a song starts playing] Oh, oh look at the time! That’s Carlos and the Really Tall One calling in for our first counseling session. Um, oo, probably a good time for a weather report.

[“Clockwork Family” by Dan Warren. soundcloud.com/danwarren]

Well, that was an interesting first counseling session. Carlos apologized for being so quiet recently, and I said it was OK, I was just worried about him, and the Really Tall One said we both sounded like we loved each other a lot. And I said, well yes but that’s not the point right now, the point is I want to know all of Carlos’ secrets! And Carlos said, “Cecil, if it really means that much to you, I’ll tell you. The truth is, this isn’t my first phantom ocean. Before I ever came to Night Vale, there was an incident. It happened years ago, it was a different situation, but similar enough that I got preoccupied thinking about it these last few weeks. And sometimes I just need a little space to process things on my own first. It doesn’t mean I’m hiding anything from you. I mean, I kind of am, but if it were truly serious or was directly about us, I would talk with you about it. This is just a scientific and catastrophic phenomenon, not something to do with us.” That is verbatim what Carlos said. I wrote down every exact word, like an inexperienced journalist carefully investigating a huge story.

And then I said, “Yes OK fine, but what happened? What incident?” And – he said he still didn’t really want to talk about it and I asked the Really Tall One, “Aren’t there some sort of therapy exercised we could do to encourage Carlos to reveal every detail of his past to us immediately?” And she said “No”. And I said, “Maybe hypnosis or telekinesis?” I mean, she’s new to the counseling profession and maybe isn’t aware of all the tools available to be her yet. She said we have to accept that Carlos doesn’t want to talk about it right now, and maybe doesn’t want to talk about it ever. She said a person’s secrets are their own to keep or disclose and it isn’t necessarily an indication of the degree of intimacy in a relationship.

And I said, [chuckling] “Oh, really? Tell that to my 8th grade self!” Immediately embarrassed, I doubled down and said, “I played truth or dare and revealed to my friends that I’m afraid of mirrors and that I have a crush on someone in the room.” “That’s cute!” Carlos said. “Who was there?” And I said, “I can’t tell you!” And then I said, “I can’t remember, actually.” I don’t even remember what year I was in the 8th grade, let alone how old I am or even what I look like, because of the whole mirror thing. But I didn’t want to tell Carlos all that. It was too painful and complicated and not important. And the Really Tall One who could, I’m sure, hear all of my thoughts, smiled over the phone, which I thought was smug. I’m still not sure how I feel about any of this.

I have a lot more to say here, but there’s been some breaking news updates piling up on my desk. Let’s skim through the most interesting looking ones. Yeah. In order to protect us from the growing jelly cube and its apparent power to create random phantom oceans, the City Council decided the key to the jelly-filled storage unit in Radon Canyon will be destroyed, fed to whatever aquatic beast ate the marine biologists. A new budget line item was then approved to pay monthly rent on the unit indefinitely rather than, quote, “ever open that door again”. This cost to the city will be covered by the new tax increases on rental cars, gasoline, and dreams where you realize you’re naked in public.

A memorial service was held for the remaining body parts of the members of the Marine Biology Association. It was a beautiful service, in which each body part was given recognition for its unique contribution to the whole of who each person was. Inspired by this touching memorial, as well as the silent horror finally locked away in Radon public storage, the Tourism Board has decided to abandon plans for the Harbor Waterfront expansion project. Instead, it will shift its focus to renovating the recently destroyed Old Town. Plans for new Old Town are already underway, with some blueprints taken from the children’s redesigned Old Town drawing contest, hosted by the Girl Scouts Splinter Faction. The Captain is even slated to open a fusion restaurant there later this year. Mmmm, I love non-specific fusion cuisine.

[clears throat] Members of the Tourism Board have acknowledged that a huge amount of money and effort will go into the renovations and that all of the work, time, and expanse may or may not be destroyed by a similar incident at any moment. “C’est la vie”, they were hard to utter. It’s possible they actually said, “sepa vediare”, a protection spell that makes all sand eels harbingers of good fortune. Mm, hm.

OK, I only have a few moments of airtime left, and I just wanted to say, well… You know how if you keep staring at that one spot in the ceiling, it starts to look like a face? And the harder you look, the more it takes shape, and when you can finally see it really clearly, the face never disappears and it’s always there watching you? Or, or like how Oxyclean has those commercials where they can get blood out of everything from jeans to gloves to loaves of bread, but when you actually use the product, [angrily] those stains just never go away, reminding you day after day of what you’ve done? Or, no, OK, anyway.

[calm voice] What I’m trying to say is Carlos, if you’re listening, I’m sorry I freaked out and kept pressuring you to talk. Taking space for yourself is not the same as pushing someone away. And I guess I needed a little space too to figure that out. Whatever you need, I totally respect that. I can even go hang out at the Pancake House tonight if you- if you want some alone time. OK, I just wanted to say that before… Oh. Oh, Carlos just texted. “Come home now and I will do the opposite of push you away.” Well. Maybe what I’m trying to say is, [cheerfully] I think I’ve been on the air too long, I really should be getting home like right now.

Stay tuned next for bubble wrap being popped by rolling pins meant to simulate the explosion of fireworks.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night!

Today’s proverb: Pick a company and invest all your money in it. The absolute worst that could happen is that you’ll lose every cent and it would be terrifying and life-changing, so give it a shot.

[where-fading-princesses-live]

Ugh seriously. I just need to vent. Can people PLEASE STOP making all this unnecessary hate of Musical Mr. Krabs? I can’t stand checking the SB musical tags and seeing all these posts trashing him. Because Carlos left the cast, and is feeling pretty shitty about it, and I’m feeling shitty about it, I don’t need to see all this Krabs negativity right now. I don’t care if you don’t like the actor or the character, but please keep it to yourself. Don’t tag your hate. The tag should be used to spread unconditional love for this show. Yes, the playwrights didn’t exactly make Mr. Krabs the most sympathetic character, nor have the new SB seasons, but that doesn’t mean he’s an INHERENTLY bad character. Once upon a time, he had potential, and no matter how they decided to portray him as a one-note money whore with very little redeeming qualities in the musical, in my humble opinion, Carlos played him exceptionally well despite that. I don’t mind so much that he doesn’t sound like Clancy Brown, I liked his unique spin on the voice, and I think he looks the most like how I think a human Mr. Krabs would look. I think he nailed the body language (the way he always stood with a hunch like a crab), and the facial expressions (that one eyebrow raised, that lopsided grin). He was like a guy straight out of Hell’s Kitchen, he was perfect. But that’s just my opinion and I respect people who weren’t thrilled by his interpretation, but I’d rather not see all this negativity. I’m sad he left because I liked seeing some Latino representation in the show, being half Latino myself. So if you don’t like him, fine, if you hate Mr. Krabs in the musical, fine, but please keep it out of the tags.

Thank you.

This has been a PSA.

[cheschire-kaat-a-blog]

PSA: @ the Descendants fandom

It’s so... hard to ship Jane and Carlos. I mean, I was so excited after seeing the movie, because I had no idea that they’d become a thing. And I was so happy! I love them together. But then....

Then I go in the Janelos tag and it’s 89% Janelos hate.

And it hurts??? Because I genuinely love them together. I’m not queer baiting or anything; I haven’t found a chemistry that I liked in either J.aylos and B.enlos. I mean, I totally get why people love both ships: they are ADORABLE.

But there’s something about Janelos that appeals to me and has appealed ever since the first movie.

I don’t expect you to like Janelos. Seriously, I don’t!

But please... Please don’t flood my ship’s tag with hate.