#so get ready for this to be my entire personality

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard (NSFW)

"Honey, honey, I could be your bodyguard."

Synopsis: You and Joe elope after being engaged for only 24 hours. The goal was to tell everyone when the two of you were ready, but it doesn't exactly work out the way that the two of you intended.

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If UNDERAGE

Your head was laying on Joe's chest as his arms were wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after the two of you had gotten back home from dinner where Joe had proposed to you in front of your closest family and friends.

He had been planning this for a while and wanted to keep it simple, just how he knew that you would like it. You weren't one for dealing with the spotlight and didn't like a lot of attention on you, the same way he was.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly unlocked it with his passcode that happened to be your birthday and saw that the time was around two in the morning. Putting his phone back down, he saw you pop one eye open to look at him and he quickly leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Being a creep now are we?” He asked you as you laughed at him and sat up letting the comforter and sheet fall away from your naked body due to the activities that took place before you had drifted off.

“What? I can't look at my handsome fiancé whom I love so much?” You asked as you pinched his cheek.

“Of course you can and I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Joe responded while playing with the engagement ring that he had slid on your finger just hours before.

It took him almost an entire six months to get the design of the ring up to his standards and made sure that it was a design that you would approve of too. It was funny when he thought about it because in order to get your opinion, he would show you different designs and ask what you thought. However, you really truly didn't think anything of it because Ja'Marr had also been planning to propose to his long time girlfriend and you assumed it was Joe asking you for him.

You looked at him as he did it and knew for a fact that the wheels in his head were turning.

“Joey, what's the matter?”

Once he heard your voice, he looked up at you and continued to play with your ring before he answered you.

“Would it be crazy for me to say that I want us to be married already?”

“No, not at all. I can't wait for the day that my last name changes officially. We have to start planning. Big wedding or small wedding?”

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to.” He added before kissing you again.

“But what about Destinee? She was going to be my maid of honor.”

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

“Especially not her! Baby, I am in no way, shape, or form telling you what to do but I literally HATE her and she's not a good friend to you.”

“Joey! Hate is a strong word!”

“I know and I'll repeat myself. I HATE her. Since we're talking about her, you know she tried to come onto me tonight? AFTER I PROPOSED with her witnessing the entire thing! Only reason why I invited her is because you like her. Because left up to me, her ass can choke. Your parents don't like her either!”

You crossed your arms and looked at him dumbfounded.

“She wouldn't do that, babe.”

“Oh, but she did. Ja'Marr wasn't paying her any attention but I don't know why she got the bright ass idea of coming over to talk to me. Why does your best friend think she can pull a move on me with her funky ass breath? Besides I am CLEARLY spoken for.”

“JOSEPH!”

“I had to interrupt her to give her a piece of gum because her breath was hot enough to burn off my eyebrows. I'm surprised I still have any to be honest.”

Failing miserably, a laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head at him.

“I'll ask her about it and you probably interpreted that wrong.”

“Make sure you have a piece of gum on standby, can't have my future wife dying and leaving me. Cause of death, stinky breath by her so-called best friend. You probably won't even need for me to bury you because her breath by itself will probably cremate you.”

“I literally CANNOT with you.” You told him as you shook your head and began laughing all over again.

“Yes you can and you better get used to it since you said yes to marrying me. No take backs.”

“Wouldn't dare think of doing that in a million years. Now where are we going to do this? Vegas?” You asked but turned up your nose at the same time.

“No. Definitely not. That's where everyone goes. I want us to be different. We can always go somewhere that we can also have our honeymoon.”

“I like that idea. I want beaches and sand. Somewhere warm.”

“Hmm…. So I can fuck you on the beach? Good idea.” He whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss directly underneath it.

“Yes, but I was literally not even thinking that.”

“Shit, I was and I have no problem admitting it.” Joe told you as he shrugged.

“I noticed with your little nasty ass.” You teased and he sent a small smirk in your direction.

“You weren't complaining about it a few hours ago when you were riding my face.”

“I… touché and I got it! Barbados! That's where we can go.” You excitedly told him and it looked as if he was thinking it over, but quickly agreed with you.

“Okay, Barbados it is. I'll get everything together and you go to sleep.” Joe told you as he kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before placing one on your lips.

“But..”

“I got it handled, my future wife needs to go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we need to get ready to head to the airport.” Joe told you as you nodded and laid back down on his chest.

He quickly wrapped his arm around you before using his other hand on his phone to look for a hotel for the two of you to stay at while also planning to make a few calls to get the two of you on a private jet. He finally decided to rent a vacation house so the two of you would have more space.

He was more than halfway done when you did a sudden movement and his eyes immediately looked down at you to make sure that you were okay and you were once again looking at him.

“Baby girl, I thought I told you to go to sleep?”

“Yes, you did but for some reason I keep waking up.” You whined as you shifted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Hmm, you need me to help you out with that?” Joe asked as he set his phone down in order to give you his full attention.

Looking back up at him with a smirk, you quickly nodded knowing what his version of helping you meant.

“But you need to use your words to tell me exactly what you want.” He told you as he flipped the two of you over and you were now underneath him.

“But you already know what I want.” You breathed out as he began to nip at your neck and moved further down.

“Say it or I'm not going to do anything and make you get to sleep on your own. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What does my fiancée want me to do to her?”

“She wants you to put her to sleep.”

“By doing what?”

You didn't give him an answer before you felt him move down further and spread your legs apart while running his fingers across your folds, teasing you.

“By doing something like this? Or hold on, maybe you meant this?” He asked and you quickly felt his tongue make contact with your core as you let out a gasp.

“Yesss.”

“Hmm, yes what?” He asked you once more as you felt his tongue once more on you.

“My fiancé is teasing me and I don’t like that at all.”

“Then my fiancée needs to use her words and tell me what she wants.”

“I want your face between my thighs.”

“Good girl, now see, was that so hard for us to do?” Joe was trying to get an answer out of you as he made himself comfortable in between your thighs just like you asked him and began to play with your folds quickly slipping two fingers inside you making your breath hitch in your throat.

Joe didn't bother waiting for an answer and immediately began to pleasure you with his tongue paying special attention to your clit as he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Shiiiit, keep going.” Was all you could let out as the grip that Joe had on your legs became tighter making sure that there was no possible way for you to move away from him and at this rate, that was the last thing that you wanted.

One of your hands quickly found its way to Joe's hair as you were ultimately trying to pull him even closer even if by now it was damn near impossible.

You riding his face earlier wasn't nearly enough for you to be satisfied and the way your body was responding quickly let him know. As soon as the two of you had gotten into the car from leaving dinner earlier, you had been teasing each other during the entire ride home and barely made it inside before clothes were being ripped off from each others bodies.

Inserting a third finger, Joe began to suck on your clit harder making your upper body squirm because your lower body was being tightly held by him.

“Baby, oh fuck. I'm close, so so close.”

Hearing this, Joe decided to stop which quickly left you confused and he immediately heard your protest since you wasted no time in telling him.

“Joey, what the hell!? I said I was close, why did you stop!?”

“So I could do this.” He told you as he climbed back up your body to kiss you while also sliding into you at the same time with a gasp erupting from you.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as he moved in and out of you at an even pace with him kissing you every few strokes.

Closing your eyes, the grip that you had around his neck quickly became tighter and you soon heard his voice.

“Keep your eyes on me and don’t make me ask again. You understand?”

Your eyes opened and listened to directions, but the head nod that you gave him in response was not sufficient enough. He immediately broke his embrace from you and you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck which instantly made you open your eyes and look at him as he lightly squeezed giving just the right amount of pressure.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you using your words when I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to do what you’re told and stop disobeying me. Because I will stop altogether and make you use your vibrator.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Go ahead and try me, baby. It’s your choice. Now your eyes better not leave mine. Matter of fact, get up here and ride me.”

Joe didn’t wait for an answer from you as he flipped the two of you back over and you were in the original position that you had been earlier in the night.

Putting his hands behind his head and staring up at you, he smirked.

“You don’t need my help since you like disobeying me, go ahead.” He answered your question already knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Nine times out of ten, Joe would have a tight hold on your hips and help guide you as you rode him, but you knew that you being rebellious against him made him decide to make you do it on your own.

“But babeeee.”

“Less talking, more riding.”

Placing one of your hands on the mattress beneath the both of you and lining him up with your entrance, you slowly eased your way down making a quiet moan escape from Joe’s mouth.

Once you found the perfect pace for the two of you, you could feel yourself growing tired and switched from your right hand being on the mattress to your left thinking that it would help.

Joe could tell that you were growing tired with how your movements were slowing down and took pity on you as you felt him grip both of your hips.

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding your head, Joe motioned for you to lay down on top of him and as your head was resting on his shoulder, slow deep strokes were given from underneath you as you were moaning right next to his ear.

“That’s my good girl, you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

That familiar feeling that you knew all too well was building and knew sooner rather than later you would hit your peak. Joe obviously was close too, because his movements had now grown sloppy.

“Babe.” You softly breathed out and you could feel him nod his head as yours was still on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re almost there aren’t you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me, baby? Cum all over daddy’s dick?”

No words left your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid leave your body and cover him underneath you and not even ten seconds later felt him release inside you.

You laid in the same position for a few minutes as Joe placed soft kisses up and down your neck and shoulder as you were trying to catch your breath.

Once you felt that you could move, you once again turned your head to peek one eye open at Joe and he smiled at you before leaning over to place several kisses on your lips.

“I know you want to lay on me and stay like this, but I need to change the sheets so we can finally go to sleep. Go ahead and take a shower while I do this and then I’ll come join you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise and then in a few hours we’ll wake up and get married in Barbados.”

The two of you had just touched down in Barbados an hour ago and you were currently exploring the beach house that Joe had rented for the both of you. Seeing as he told you not to worry about anything and that he had it handled, when you finished exploring you were simply going to decide on what you were going to wear since the goal was for the two of you to get married by the end of the day.

While in the master bedroom and looking out the window, you didn’t hear Joe come in the room and he was simply admiring you from the doorway before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I asked for somewhere warm near beaches and my future husband definitely took that into consideration. This beach house is amazing.”

“Oh, so your picky self approves?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I approve.”

“Good, so start getting ready so we can leave and go get married.”

“I still have to figure out what I want to wear, none of the dresses that I have are really ‘get married in’ worthy.”

“Hmm, you could always go in nothing, I’m not opposed. That would be better for me actually.”

“JOSEPH!” You exclaimed as you turned around to look at him.

“Hey, I just gave you another option.” He replied as he held his hands up defensively.

“But, seriously, baby. I do not care what you wear and I know that you’re going to look beautiful regardless.”

“Aww, you love me don’t you?” You asked and Joe immediately nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you so much because if I didn’t, I would not let you put your cold ass feet on my back when we’re in bed because you’re cold and refuse to wear socks.”

“I cannot wear socks when I sleep! It’s weird!”

“What?! How is it weird?! So you’d rather turn me into a popsicle?”

“Yes, and I will not be discussing this topic further. Happy wife, happy life, Joseph Lee. I know you’ve heard that saying before so prepare yourself.”

After taking a shower and putting on your coconut scented lotion, you slipped into your soft pink sundress and began to play with your hair as you tried to figure out what you were going to do with it, style wise.

It was already in boho knotless braids and since it was obviously warm outside, you opted to put it into a high ponytail. Once it was up how you wanted, you applied light make-up and slipped in your big hoop earrings.

Sliding on your sandals, you heard Joe’s voice behind you after a whistle had escaped his lips.

“Look at how beautiful my fiancée is, just like I expected for her to be. I see you decided to not go along with my idea of what you should wear or not wear.”

“And get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country? I think not.”

“They have nude beaches, I looked into them.”

All you did was roll your eyes at him as you found your tennis bracelet that Joe had gifted you a year prior and attempted to put it on your wrist. Joe noticed that you were having some trouble and quickly put it on for you.

“Thank you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now let’s go and get married.”

Laughter could probably be heard at least three miles away as the two of you were enjoying each other's company while relaxing in the hot tub that was located on the side of the vacation house rental.

You tried to control it so wine wouldn't spill everywhere as you held the glass with your left hand that now had your full wedding set glistening as the sun had just fully set.

“Joey, cut it out! You are going to make me spill this!”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time tonight either.” He told you as he swiped it from you and drank it in one gulp as you looked at him in disbelief.

“BABY! You owe me another glass. Your drink is over there!” You whined as you playfully hit his chest.

“Do you want some?”

“No, I wanted mine!”

“I'll go and get it under one condition.”

“The only condition that is necessary is that you'll get it because I'm your wife.”

“Oh, so you're already taking advantage of your name now being Mrs. Burrow, huh?”

“Yes, so go get it for me.” You told him as you pointed to your wine glass that he was indeed still holding.

“And to think you said the bottle looked like it would be considered girly wine.”

“It's good! I wasn't expecting it to be that good. But I'll get you another glass on one condition that I have.”

“And what's that?”

Joe didn't respond, but instead leaned forward to kiss you.

“Okay, now I can go.”

He slid you to the side of him since you had been sitting on his lap to get your refill for you. Joe had made his way back into the house when your phone began ringing and you saw that it was your best friend Destinee and quickly answered.

“Destinee!” You exclaimed since you still couldn’t contain how excited you were.

“Hey, where are you?” She asked not bothering to return your enthusiasm.

“With Joe. Why do you ask?”

“Did you forget that we were supposed to go out today?” She asked and even though you couldn’t see her, you had a feeling that she had definitely rolled her eyes at your response.

“Shit. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well we can go out later. How long are you going to be with him?”

“Destinee, can you keep a secret? Like you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you.” You whispered into the phone trying to make sure Joe couldn’t hear you.

“Of course I can. What is it? And why are you whispering?”

“I'm in Barbados.”

“Uh okay?”

“And we just got married.”

“YOU ELOPED!?” She exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Not so loud! But yes and you have to promise not to tell anyone. I figured that my best friend should at least be one of the people who know about it before anyone else. You’ve been there for the long run and have always supported me through everything.”

“Who else knows? You said, one of the people.”

“No one else does and we'll tell everyone once we're ready. But I hear Joe coming back, talk to you later and I'll send you pics.”

Quickly hanging up the phone, you set it to the side of you as Joe was all smiles as he emerged from the house and handed you another glass of wine.

“Your drink Mrs. Burrow.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you took a small sip and Joe was climbing back into the hot tub and once again slid you into his lap.

His arms completely engulfed you as you slightly turned to lay your head on his shoulder.

“I have a lot of things planned for us to do tomorrow, but the majority of those plans don't require clothes.”

“And why am I not surprised?” You laughed as you shook your head and took another sip.

“I have to take advantage of being able to spend time with you because you know how busy I'll get during the season.”

“It's your job and I will not be getting in the way of that. I've supported you this long and it's not going away any time soon. I'm here for the long haul obviously.” You told him as you gestured towards your ring.

“I just never want to get so focused on my career that I lose you in the process because when it is all said and done and I’m not playing anymore, I still want you to be at home waiting for me.”

“Babe, if I haven't left yet, what makes you think that I will? I know how important it is to you and you have always treated me like a priority ever since we got together. And I'll still be here when you retire from playing. You manage to have football and me as a priority and neither one is slacking, I promise.”

“And if you ever feel like I'm not doing that, you need to tell me. You are one of the most important people in my life and it's going to stay that way.”

“I promise that I will even though I know that I won’t have to.” You replied before a yawn quickly escaped your mouth.

“Someone tired over there?”

“A little, it’s been a long day after all. I barely got any sleep since SOMEONE was too busy keeping me awake.” You responded while giving Joe the evil eye.

“And as I recall, my now wife specifically asked me to put her to sleep so I don’t want to hear it. But come on, you can finish your wine after we get comfortable in bed.”

“And no funny business! I actually want to sleep.”

“I promise and besides, I want you to sleep too in order to be ready for me for tomorrow.” Joe told you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, you weren’t saying that when I was eating you out last night and you need to get over it, till death do us part remember?”

“Don’t push me, Joseph.” You scolded as you finally stood up to climb out of the hot tub with Joe right behind you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

When you had finished showering and moisturizing your hair, Joe had briefly left the bedroom to do only God knows what so you took it as an opportunity to text Destinee one of the pictures that you had taken of the both of you earlier in the day. Once it was sent, you put your phone on do not disturb and plugged it in to charge on the nightstand as you slipped under the comforter.

Joe came back a few minutes later and crawled in bed beside you as you instantly moved to lay on him.

“I’m happy we did this.” He whispered as he held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Me too.”

The next morning, the constant vibration of Joe’s phone instantly brought him out of his slumber and he sighed in annoyance. Glancing down and seeing that you were still sleeping with your braids failing out of your bonnet, Joe smiled to himself as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

He figured that he should answer his phone since it was probably important and was surprised to see a bombardment of texts and calls from different people as he did his best not to wake you up. Instantly confused, he opened the most recent notification and it was from his mom Robin with a photo attached.

Mom- Since when were you two going to tell us that you eloped?

“Shit.” Was all Joe could mutter to himself as his stomach dropped. He did his best to not make any sudden movements, but quickly failed and that instantly woke you up.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked Joe as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard and he quickly handed you his phone without saying a word.

Your eyes instantly went wide as you read the text over and over again and looked at the picture that Robin had sent.

“Shit. How did they find out?” You asked as you turned towards Joe who now had his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Hmm, I should be asking you that, Y/N. You took this picture and only had it on your phone, so why is it now all over social media?”

[star-trekker-0013]

“I…” Runa softly sighed. “You’re right, Tron. You’re a victim in all this, too… I’m sorry for being blind to that… and I’m sorry for not considering your side enough.”

She pulled up chairs for the two of them and she sat with her thoughts for a bit.

“You know… Humans… users… sometimes have this issue too. Just… hear me out first, and I’m gonna try to explain this as best as I can. Sometimes, when users go through a traumatic event, usually when they are young, their mind creates a second identity. A whole new person sometimes, with new memories and behavior. The reason is that when the brain of the original user feels the trauma being resurfaced through an event or a memory, the host retreats and the second identity takes over… in my world, it’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder… and sometimes, people are able to get along with their other identities… and sometimes they’re not, so they receive help in how to understand them.

“Tron, I’m not going to push you to accept Rinzler or trust him. But please believe me when I say that both of you suffered trauma. You lost a good portion of life, while Rinzler was being abused by Clu. Rinzler is just as scared of what you will do to him as you are scared of what he will do to you…. But I will not push you to communicate with him if you’re not ready. I can put the firewall up now, and I can ask Rinzler whatever questions you desire the next time you go on a rest cycle. I’ll even record the conversation if you want.

“If you’re willing to try to talk to him, I’ll supervise the process the entire time. I’ll end it if anything goes wrong and put the firewall back up. This is your decision, Tron.”

Not in Kansas

@corruptedcodelines

Was this how Dorothy felt when she arrived in Oz? At least Munchkinland had more color.

Runa looked up at the sign that read Flynn’s. At least that seemed the same compared to the dystopian landscape around her. She had to have been dreaming. All the stress got to her and she took a nap at the arcade. That had to explain the blink and you miss it sudden landscape change from the computer desk to a dark, abandoned room. Runa pinched the skin on her arm under her leather jacket. No, that wasn’t working. Seeing a reflective surface, she rushed over to see her reflection. No, everything seemed normal to her. Her purple hair was still tied back, and she was still her regular, pale self. This had to be a very lucid dream. That had to be the only explanation.

Runa ran back inside Flynn’s and sunk down to the ground. She curled in on herself as she tried to form her thoughts. This was too much. All of it was too much.

Everything was too much.

She cried as she hugged herself. She wanted her family. Why couldn’t they be here? If this was really a dream, why couldn’t they be here?!

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #6

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter5 | index | chapter7 soon!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-May 2024

It’s just you and Drew now.  

Laura left after getting the two of you settled in this hotel room, explaining how your stylists would be here in less than an hour, Vogue coming over to film a getting-ready vlog. 

You anxiously stand by the window, looking down to the city. It was beautiful; but your anxiety didn���t let you appreciate it. You wanted a smoke. A drink too. 

The no-smoking sign on the table catches your eye, and you look at the ceiling. Smoking detectors were on it. Fuck. So, you reach for the alternative. 

You pick the room cell up, typing the number to the lobby. 

But Drew hangs it up, then grabs the cell from you. You look at him, pissed. “What? That was important,” you lie, but it was partially true, you needed alcohol to settle yourself. 

“Really?,” he says, putting the cell back. He glares down at you, as if you stole his money or something. “I’m not letting you.”

You let his words hang in the air, sharp and defiant.

Instead, you reach for the room cell again. 

Drew harshly grabs your wrist, which you immediately shake yourself out of. “Hey. What’s your fucking problem?” You ask impatiently. 

“That’s what I should be asking,” he replies. After a few seconds, he talks again. “Why would you go out with him?”

Oh. So he’s asking about what happened last week. 

It was nothing. You met Theo at the grand prix, who was surprisingly friendly. The two of you weren’t alone on the yacht; there was a small party before it. Theo and you just stayed longer, and the media made it seem like it was like that the whole night. 

Of course, you were too drunk to remember the details of what happened when it was just the two of you, but from the pictures; yeah, it was really bad. Your PR team gave you a hard scolding for that, and even fines for breaking one of the terms on the contract. 

You cross your arms, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong; Drew’s intimidating stare won’t break you; nothing will. “I didn’t go out with him.”

“Does he know that?” His voice unable to hid the mockery behind them. 

“Of course.” Lie. Maybe a lie. 

“Y/n.”

“What? I can’t answer for him. But I know it wasn’t a date.”

“Right, two people of the opposite sex alone, on a yacht-“

“Not a date-“

“With wine, table candles, food-“

“Not a fucking date-“

“Touching each other? Smiling like he’s the funniest shit ever-“

“Fucking shut up, Drew,” you say, slightly louder than him. What he’s going on about, is just stupid. You already got scolded by the PR team, you didn’t need another person telling you you fucked up. 

Drew does shut up, but only for a few seconds. “Fine, then what really happened, y/n? Tell me, tell me and I’ll believe it.”

You look at him.

“Why should I fucking tell you?” 

The anger in your voice isn't just directed at him; it's a mix of frustration and confusion, the feeling that you shouldn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all him.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow even harder, his tongue poking against his cheek. You go on; ignoring how you’re filling up his anger meter. “All you need to fucking know is that it wasn’t a date. Fuck, why are you even talking to me about this? It’s not part of the contract, it’s not part of-“

“Contract?” He interrupts, looking at you in confusion and disbelief, as if your point of view was absolutely shit. “What does this have to do with-“

“That’s the whole reason you’re here-“

“What the fuck does the contract have to do-“

“Every fucking thing, Drew. The contract has everything to do with you being here. You don’t even care-“

“I do care,” he answers quickly, but you scoff. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking to you-“

“Really? You do care? What do you care about?”

“You,” he exclaims, his features softening. 

Bullshit. “Your fucking reputation, you mean?”

He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows, feeling pissed that he’s laughing. “What-“

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” he starts, and suddenly, his aura feels cold, different from earlier when it was just pure anger.  “Why can’t you just explain the situation to me? Huh?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, lowering your voice. No. You won’t- can’t tell him.

“Okay, because I might not care?” He asks, ignoring what you want to add on. “If I really didn’t, why would I ask?”

Drew’s blue eyes make you want to yield everything to him. There’s a bit of comfort in his eyes, behind all the anger, “because…because you’re just another co-star I meet. You don’t really care.”

You continue to stare into his eyes, challenging him to disagree. 

“But I do.”

He says it so faintly, that it felt like the words were your hallucinations. But he did say it. Well, too bad you weren’t one to be swayed easily by words. “Stop lying, Drew. It just makes you look stupid.”

You brush past him and reach for the room cell. You needed like, five bottles of wine to move past this. To even survive the film festival later. 

But Drew stops you yet again. “Let go of me,” you threaten, shrugging his hands off your wrist. 

He doesn’t budge, even after saying it a second time. 

“Why can’t you can’t understand basic shit?” You snap, finally shaking him off and putting the cellphone back.

If you knew your next insult towards him would end badly for you, you wouldn’t have said it. “You’re so insufferable to be around, you know that?”

Drew stares at you, furrowed eyebrows back in place. 

What was he thinking of now? Thinking about a better insult? Thinking about all your flaws? It’s evident that he wants to say something mean about you. 

“What? What were you going to say?” You ask, getting impatient. “Say it. I’m sure whatever you’re thinking, they have it worse for me.”

His lips form a small frown, but his eyes stay mean, staring down at you. 

Okay. Now this was annoying. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like talking?

“Do you need help forming it?” You tease, stepping closer to him. His eyes flicker fast to your lips, before back into your eyes. “Let me give you a few ideas. Druggie,  coke-head, slut, oh, wait, BBC said something about me once. It was-“

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“You think of yourself that way.”

“What?” You scoff yet again. 

“You could be so much better, y/n. But instead, you let yourself rot,” Woah, what is he talking about? “Always getting drunk, smoking your lungs out, and putting on this- this sloppy attitude. You give up on yourself when other people haven’t. Why- why the fuck would you do that? Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?”

His words throw you off track. It’s the first time someone has said this type of stuff to you.

You swallow hard, your throat running dry. For the first time in a while, you feel exposed. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, unexpected and hard. You freeze, unsure of how to react, how to process what he’s saying. 

“Why do you make yourself so insufferable?” 

You want to hate him for making you feel this way, for making you feel like you're doing something wrong by existing this way. But you can’t. He’s right, isn’t he? 

Even with the constant buzz stinging your mind, you still refuse to show weakness. You refuse to show that his words have impact on you. “No; you make me insufferable in your eyes. You hate me, you hate how I bring more trouble to you-“

“I don’t hate you-“

“You hate how you’re stuck in this situation with me, but you know that only I can help you out-“

“Maybe, but I realized-“

“You stick around and then act like you care-“

“How many times do I have to tell you I do care about you-“

“You’re just like the rest, Drew!” You yell over him. He shuts up, looking at you with furrowed brows. “The fame, the money, the people I can bring you, that’s what you care! You’re just waiting for your payoff. ”

The contract again. That fucking contract mentioned again. 

You see his Adam’s apple move, his features softening. 

The doorbell rings, probably the stylists. You look away from Drew, hugging yourself tight, to keep yourself together. 

He brushes past you, going to open the door. 

The crew starts filing in, talking and setting up like nothing’s wrong. The noise feels like a wall around you, a barrier between what just happened and the performance you have to put on.

You glance around. Drew’s gone.

He must've left.

——

You tried your best to make Drew’s words leave your mind. 

You drank a bottle and smoked half a vape in a the last few hours while getting ready, and still, his words left a scar on you. You couldn’t believe yourself either, affected by Drew’s fake concern for you. 

“Give it to me, y/n, we’re arriving.”

Laura’s talking about the vape in your hand. You take on last breath, before handing it over to her. “This dress is uncomfortable,” you comment while puffing out the smoke. This dress was very tight. 

“You look beautiful,” Laura says, and a part of you wonders if she actually means it. “Now, the cast is already moving along the carpet, you’re the last one.”

“Where’s Drew?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing that you only attended the Cannes’ film festival to be seen with him. 

“Right… there,” she points out the window. You see Drew, in a black suit that matches your dress, signing and happily taking photos with fans. He looked… fine.

“Ready?” Laura asks, once the car stops. 

It was your first time at the Cannes film festival. You’ve always declined because of your ‘schedule’, but really, it was because of your anxiety. The flashing lights, the disrespectful questions, and audience that have high expectations. These reasons are mainly why you’ve always declined award shows, festivals, or any kind of event that required you to interact with people. “Yeah,” you force out. 

Laura opens the door, and steps out first. You take her hand when getting out, and while adjusting your dress, multiple cameras flash. The industry never changed, has it? 

Once you’re done adjusting your dress, you smile at the cameras, waving at them nicely. The lights are blinding, but you’ve trained yourself to not flinch to them. 

You walk down the red carpet, until you reach where Drew was. Of course he noticed you, all the photographers were shouting, hoping that you would stare at their cameras. 

He says bye to fans, before walking over to you. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, and you don’t either. 

Drew simply takes your hand and puts it on his inner forearm. You purposely grip tight, hoping to cause physical pain to him. 

The two of walk side by side until you reach the middle, stopping for photos to be taken. 

Drew wraps his arm around your waist, standing closely to you. You pretend something is wrong with his collar, smiling while adjusting it. You meet his eyes, and you just smile even more; acting. He smiles at you too; acting. 

Acting. Act. Act. Act. 

He whispers in your ear, making sure to get close enough so photographers don’t catch his lips. “You smell like grapes.” Oh. His breath hits your neck, and you feel your goosebumps rise. 

He moves away, looking at you lovingly; acting. 

You pat his chest and smile at him lovingly; acting. 

The photographers’ camera’s flash doesn’t stop, not even for a brief moment. All eager to capture every movement of this couple. Little did they know, while the both of you posed lovingly next to each other, hours ago a catastrophic fight happened. 

After a few more seconds which felt like minutes, one of the staff informs you to move up the stairs, where your other cast members were waiting for you. 

As you make your way toward the stairs, Drew’s hand hovers close to your lower waist, almost like a protective gesture. The warmth of his palm against your skin is an odd comfort, and for a moment, you forget everything else—the argument, the tension, the walls you’ve built up between you.

When you turn your back to the cameras, the weight of the moment hits you. The flashing lights and fake smiles are just a blur now. You face him, your words soft but certain. “You’re right.”

He blinks, taken aback, and lifts his hand, waiting for you to take it. “What?”

You meet his eyes, swallowing down the mess of emotions swirling inside. For a brief second, you think about pulling away, about keeping the distance. But instead, you take his hand, letting it slip into his.

You raise the hem of your dress slightly, your steps becoming more deliberate as you climb the stairs. “You’re right,” you repeat, your voice steady, almost as if saying it out loud makes it real. “About everything.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

“But, the industry shaped me to be this way. I don’t know any other way,” you confess, looking at the stairs while saying this. 

The two of you reach where your co-stars were, and you let go of his hand. 

The director of this movie, which is about the working class in the 1800s, makes space for you in the middle, urging you to stand next to him.

It was the director’s first work, so he was very eager to have his main leads stand next to him. Not only that, but because of your performance in this film, today, it was nominated for numerous categories.

You do, and smile at the camera with the director’s arm around you. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” the male lead, whispers to you, a smile on for the photos. “You never come.”

“This one’s special,” you reply, referring to Drew. 

He must’ve thought you were talking about the movie, “good thing I persuaded you to take the role.”

The flashing continues, but the staff informs that it was time to head inside. You turn around expecting Drew to wait at the top for you, but he wasn’t.

You hide your disappointment, seeing your co-star offer his hand. “I believe we’re sitting together?”

“Yes,” you smile, taking his hand. 

The two of you walked up the stairs with the rest of the crew, and into the main venue. 

——

The standing ovation lasted around ten minutes. Yet, felt like eternity. 

The sound of clapping fills the room, surrounding you, and for once, it’s not just noise. It’s recognition. It’s validation.

It felt…extraordinary. Like something out of a dream. You couldn’t believe how many you’ve missed out on. You want to soak it all in, to savor the moment, but a part of you can’t help but wish you weren’t alone in it.

Your co-stars would stare or blow kisses at their loved ones, whispering thank you to them. But you? No one. Not even your ‘boyfriend’, who was gone from the start of the night. 

Even when going up to receive awards, you wished you had someone special to dedicate your speeches or awards to. Or someone you could lock eyes with in the crowd. 

You had no one. 

Drew was still gone, and you soon realized, he was gone the entire night. 

——

You push through the door, finally getting it open after multiple tries. 

You immediately fall to the ground, your legs and arms giving up. You laugh, still a bit drunk even after sleeping in the car. 

“Where were you?”

Your blurry eyes squint at the source, and you see Drew. He’s sitting on the couch, half naked and hair still wet. “I should be asking you that,” you smile, the alcohol in your veins making it hard to control your features. “I missed you.”

It wasn’t you talking; obviously the alcohol talking. Drew knew that, because he walks over and stands in front of you. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at his toes. They’re funny. “Hey, your toes are-“

“Where the fuck did you go?” He asks more firmly this time.

You look up at him. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in something between concern and irritation. But all you can feel is the burn in your chest, the strange weight of his question. “Why do you care?”

It comes out cold, defensive, but his eyes soften, just a little, as if he’s already heard the answer, as if he knows the real reason why he does care.

He bends down to grab your arm. He helps you up, placing your arm over his shoulder. You’re too tired to protest; letting him place you on the couch. He walks away, but he comes back with a bottle of water, a trash can, and some pills.

“Hey, drink some water,” he says, his hand going behind your neck, as he helps you sit up. 

His hand is always so warm. Why?

His thumb rubs the back of your neck while you drink the water, surprisingly, you find it comforting. You finish half of it, before handing it back to him. “Wanna tell me where you went?” He asks you much more gentler this time. 

“The afterparty,” you reply, as Drew removes his hand from the back of your neck. The warmth disappears, and you actually feel sad. “Your turn.”

“I stayed in here,” he confesses. His voice turns quieter now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to see you.”

Just because of that, he leaves? What a selfish dick. “I didn't want to see you either, but did you see me leave? No.”

“And I’m sorry,” Drew apologies. You look into his eyes, and see the sincerity in them that can’t be faked. 

“I felt so stupid,” you continue, “The only person I knew was you.”

Drunk you could talk about whatever you wanted, and no one could stop you. “I know you hate me, but couldn’t you have stuck around? You only had to watch me, you didn’t need to do anything else.”

A tear falls down your cheek. It feels almost foreign, as if your body is betraying you, allowing a moment of vulnerability you didn’t expect, one that you didn't know you were capable of outside of a scene, outside the cameras.

You quickly wipe it away. “I would’ve never done that to you.” 

And you meant it. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, the only right thing to say right now. 

Silence lingers in the air, the two of you staring down at the floor. 

“It was my first time experiencing a standing ovation,” you start, giving him a soft smile. He sends you one back, a faint, quick smile. “No wonder why people like going to award shows.”

“You’ve never been to one?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“During the first few years. But after that… overdose incident, I wasn’t in the right state to attend public events,” you feel your voice shake; the memories of that night coming back to you. “Not only was I afraid, but so were the executives.”

You’ve never told any in showbiz about your drug overdose incident. Why are you telling him? Maybe, there was just something about Drew that made you want to. 

And sure, everyone knew, from the media, where things are often exaggerated and vilified. But, did anyone bother hearing it from you? 

This incident changed your entire life. To others, it was just hot gossip. 

“Have you ever had a standing ovation for you?” You change the topic, his lack of response worrying you. 

“No; but it sounds amazing,” Drew says. “I’ll…I’ll look for you when I do.”

There's something in his voice, though, something that almost feels like a promise.

“Will that time even come?” You decide to tease him instead, uncomfortable with how cheesy this is going. 

“Sooner than you think,” he winks at you, before glancing down at the pill. “Take one after you shower; you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, before looking towards the bathroom. “I stink, don’t I?”

“Not the worst you’ve stunk,” he comments, and you roll your eyes. 

“Whatever,” you get up, but way too fast, making you almost stumble. Drew holds onto your arm, steadying you. 

“Need help?”

“I can manage,” you breathe out, shaking his hand off and walking over to the bedroom. You spot your suitcase, opening it and taking a shirt and underwear. You see the bed, realizing that it’s yet another one-bed situation. You peek out the bedroom door, and Drew immediately turns his face over to you. “Um, you can have the bed if you want.”

Shyly, you close the door, ending the conversation. 

—— 

Drew slept on the couch that night, without any protests. 

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

word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: a lot to take in for this chapter...phew

i have a one shot idea coming up, so look forward to it! same as usual, thx for reading, and sry for the long update (ignore my mistakes). i try writing as much as i can, but schedule doesnt allow it T_T

ps, is this a safe space? um, i was kinda losing motivation for this series a couple of days ago. but, i saw the taglist, and the ending i planned for this series. so, safe to say i got to writing!

[mediocre-shark-tales]

The Debut

Masterlist

The news hit the F1 world like a thunderclap—a 20 year old American driver, a complete unknown, was stepping into the Aston Martin seat mid-season. One of the few rookies to join halfway through the season, she was brought in to cover for Lance Stroll, sidelined potentially indefinitely by a severe injury. Speculation about his replacement had run wild, but no one expected it to be someone with almost no public history, let alone a driver no one had ever seen outside their helmet and racing suit. Yet Aston Martin was now ready to unveil her to the world—a driver who had only been known by her number, 66, and the nickname “Daredevil.”

In the week leading up to her debut, Aston Martin teased fans with cryptic photos and voice-modulated videos. Finally, they dropped a fifteen-minute video titled Welcome to AMRTC Driver 66, capturing her first day with the team. It opened with clips of the team speculating about her skill, personality, and confidence, overlaid with shots of her walking through the building without truly showing more than her shoes. Then, as a black screen lingered, the opening chords of “Real Gone” from Cars filled the silence. The video cut to the mystery driver getting suited up, each layer adding to her mystique, until she finally took to the track in the new car. A montage of high-speed laps displayed her undeniable skill and poise until the song slowly faded, revealing her standing still, helmet off, with curled hair framing her face as she turned toward the camera for the first time. This was quickly followed by a long ‘get to know me’ interview.

From the moment she arrived, the paddock buzzed with whispers. Her face was unfamiliar to the veteran drivers, but rumors hinted at her racing roots from leagues around the world. The fans, media, and even her new teammate waited with bated breath, eager to see if this newcomer could hold her own against the sport’s giants.

Y/n pov

I stepped into the Aston Martin garage with Marcus, my manager, beside me. My headphones were on, the bass of my favorite race weekend hype playlist thumping as I took in the scene. Mechanics and engineers glanced up from their tasks, eyes darting over to me before resuming their work on the cars and equipment, all in preparation for Practice Day 1. I’d skipped the usual media day—Aston Martin had somehow managed to get the FIA’s approval for me to skip it, which suited me just fine.

Marcus guided me through the bustling garage, giving me a quick rundown of everything before leading me to my driver’s room in the Aston Martin hospitality suite. As I took a seat, nerves bubbled up—I still hadn’t met Fernando Alonso. As confident as I felt in the car, the idea of meeting a living legend, someone who’d been racing since before I was even born, was something else entirely.

For as long as I could remember, Fernando Alonso had been my idol. I’d spent years studying his every move on the track, even adopting his aggressive, calculated driving style until I’d eventually developed my own. But knowing that I’d be racing alongside him—that I’d actually get to learn from him first hand—felt surreal, like stepping into a dream I’d chased my entire life.

That all changed the moment I actually met him. As I walked into the garage, fully suited up in my fireproofs with my helmet tucked under my arm, I could feel the weight of the moment settling in. After a quick weigh-in, Marcus led me over to Alonso. For a few awkward seconds, he barely glanced my way, his focus elsewhere until someone pointed me out to him. Around us, everyone was smiling and looking expectant—everyone except him. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. I hadn’t expected him to be thrilled about my arrival, but his distant, unreadable expression stung in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

As I approached, He looked me up and down with the slightest hint of a frown.

"So, they think you're ready to jump into this mid-season?" he asked, crossing his arms. "I wonder if you actually understand what that means."

I blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't," I shot back, trying to keep my tone even.

He raised an eyebrow. "A lot of drivers think they’re ready," he replied, his voice cool. "But being ready means more than just showing up with confidence. Winning is a mindset, an instinct. It’s not just something you decide you have one day."

I felt my hands tighten around my helmet. "Maybe it’s not something you decide—but it is something you prove. I’m here to race, not get your approval, and I’ll show you on track that my style is nothing like what you've seen before."

A spark flashed in his eyes, though his expression remained unchanged. "We’ll see if your style is worth anything," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Just remember that here, being good isn’t enough."

Without another word, I turned on my heel and headed toward my car, trying to shake off the sting of his words. As I disappeared around the corner, Fernando watched me go, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Once my car was ready, I climbed in, settling into the seat as the engineers moved in to strap me down. Glancing up at the screen, I watched past race footage from this track with this very car. They wanted me to see what I’d be up against—what I needed to match and, ideally, surpass.

A moment later, Marcus crouched down into my line of sight, flanked by two guys—one older and serious, the other younger, with a bit of a wide-eyed look.

“Y/N, this is Ben,” Marcus began, gesturing to the older man. “He’ll be running your radio. But he’s also training Landon here,” he nodded toward the younger guy, “to be your personal radio engineer. Since there’s still a good part of the season left, you’ll need someone who gets you on and off the track. Landon’s been watching your last F2 season, studying up to learn your style. Today’s practice sessions will help you both adjust to your new roles together.”

I nodded and gave them a thumbs up—they wouldn’t hear me over the helmet or the noise of the garage anyway, but my excitement was clear.

It was finally time. My doorman stepped out, giving me the signal that I was clear to go. I eased the car forward, carefully navigating my way onto the main pit road. Aston Martin’s garage was positioned right at the front of the entrance, but it also meant the longest stretch before merging onto the track. As I rolled past each team’s garage, I felt eyes following my every move, curious and assessing. They’d all heard the buzz about the new “mystery driver,” and now here I was.

Once I hit the open track, becoming the first car out on the tarmac, my radio crackled to life with Landon’s voice. “Okay, Y/N, this session is all about finding your sweet spot with the car. If anything feels even slightly off, let me know immediately. For now, just get comfortable with the track. We’ll start gathering real data in the next session.”

I pressed the radio button and replied with a quick, “Yes, sir,” a grin hidden behind my helmet as I pushed down on the accelerator, ready to make my mark.

I took a deep breath, the roar of the engine and the blur of the pit wall filling my senses as I pushed down on the accelerator. The Italian GP track spread out before me in a symphony of curves and straightaways, each turn already embedded in my mind. I’d studied this circuit obsessively—every corner, every curb, every shift in gradient. But now, with the Aston Martin beneath me, I could finally feel it for myself, each bump and nuance translating through the car with perfect clarity.

As I took on the first few turns, my instincts kicked in—a mix of smooth control and split-second aggression. Where other drivers might ease off in preparation for a hairpin, I’d mastered the art of late braking, letting the car edge just to the point of losing grip before snapping it back with a calculated shift in weight. I slid through the Variante del Rettifilo, cutting a sharp angle through the chicane, my hands steady as I kept my foot down. Each move, each turn was a test, not just for me, but for the entire team watching my data back in the garage.

The name Franco Colapinto kept flashing in my mind. I knew he’d have an impressive debut mid-season, and I could feel a competitive drive swelling within me as I attacked the track, eager to match and even exceed his potential mark. Exiting the second Lesmo, I made a mental note of how much grip the car could hold, the feeling just right as I powered down the straight toward Ascari. I couldn’t afford a single misstep. If I was going to prove myself, this was my moment to do it—full control at breakneck speed.

“Looking good, Y/N,” Landon’s voice crackled through the radio, but I was already focused on the final corner. The Parabolica curved ahead, inviting me to test my limits, and I didn’t hesitate. I took it wide before tightening on the exit, feeling the car grip to the line as I pushed the throttle to the max, the car launching down the home straight. 

“Love you, Landon, but please don’t speak before I’m accelerating out of the corner,” I said quickly over the radio, just as I straightened out and hit the next curve.

There was a pause before his voice crackled back, a bit sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies.”

I chuckled, the corners of my mouth lifting behind my helmet. “No worries, I’ll have you perfected in no time.”

With that, I settled back into my rhythm, feeling the weight of the car and every detail of the track imprinting itself in my mind. Soon enough, the first practice session came to an end, and I guided the car back to the pits. As I parked and the engineers moved in, I took a moment to pull off my helmet, still buzzing from the thrill of my first laps. This track, this team, and this car were quickly becoming home.

Time Skip -

Race day had arrived, bringing the tension and thrill of my F1 debut, but the sting of yesterday’s qualifying disaster still lingered. I’d ended up in P18, an unfortunate consequence of a poorly timed red flag that left the five of us at the back with no real shot at setting a solid lap time. I tried to brush it off as I prepared to join the rest of the grid for the drivers' parade.

Dressed in team gear, I wore one extra item that had become a part of my ritual. A few months ago, I lost my mother to cancer, and since then, I’d made sure to honor her at every race. Something on me, whether it was my gear or my helmet, would always bear a symbol of her favorite animal: the sea turtle. She had chosen it after learning the turtle’s symbolism of wisdom, endurance, and trusting one’s path, all qualities that described her so well. On each of my helmets, a small sea turtle was etched into the design. And when I wasn’t wearing the helmet, I kept a sea turtle necklace with me, its pendant filled with a touch of her ashes, as if she were here with me, watching over this pivotal moment.

I slipped on my headphones, tuning into my “reminiscing” playlist, letting myself reflect in the few quiet moments before the chaos. “How Do I Say Goodbye” by Dean Lewis filled my ears, a song that resonated now more than ever. My F2 team had given me the remainder of the season off after my mother’s passing, telling the media I was undergoing intense training for my reserve role. Nobody outside my close circle knew the truth, and it felt like a private thread of grief I carried alone, my mother’s memory grounding me as I faced the reality of my first F1 race without her.

I followed the line of drivers, hanging back, unnoticed by most. No one had approached me—not to chat, nor to dismiss me. They’d fallen naturally into their cliques, small pockets of friendships built over countless races together. The trailer pulled up, and I was the last to step aboard, taking a quiet corner near the back. My gaze drifted over the crowd as I toyed with the sea turtle pendant around my neck, a small comfort. If there was ever a moment I needed my mom, it was now. I imagined her smiling at my awkwardness, maybe even scolding the guys to show a bit of gentlemanly grace. Her humor and warmth were all I had left to keep close in this overwhelming moment.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. I pulled off my headphones and turned to see a smiling Franco Colapinto standing there, his easy grin contagious. My smile mirrored his as I placed my headphones around my neck, grateful for the distraction.

“Hola! I’ve been waiting to get a chance to talk to you,” he said, his tone smooth and friendly.

“Hey! I didn’t think anyone would come over,” I replied, surprised but pleased. “It’s nice to finally meet you. How are you feeling about today?”

“Excited and a little nervous, to be honest. It’s not every day you get to race in Formula 1, right? I’m sure you feel the same way.”

I nodded, feeling a wave of camaraderie. “Definitely. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m ready to show what I can do out there.”

Franco's eyes sparkled with encouragement. “You’ve got this! I saw your lap times from practice; you really have a gift. Just stay focused and trust your instincts. We’re in this together after all.”

“Thanks! That means a lot, especially coming from you. I know you’ve been making waves already too,” I said, my confidence growing.

“Just trying to keep up!” he laughed, his energy infectious. “How about we make a pact? Let’s push each other out there and see how far we can go. We might even surprise some people!”

“Deal!” I grinned, feeling the excitement of a budding friendship. “I’d love to have someone to share this experience with. After all, it’s always more fun with friends.”

Franco nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Let’s catch up after the race too—maybe grab a bite? I think we could both use a little downtime after all this craziness.” He blushed slightly, the nerves from the question filling him. 

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. As we exchanged a few more words, the nervous weight on my shoulders lifted, replaced by the warmth of a new friendship that made this moment feel just a little less daunting.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, we were dropped back at the paddock. With no distractions, I headed straight for my garage, ready to change and get my head in the game. As I pulled on each piece of my race gear, my heart thudded louder, like it was syncing up with the pulse of the race track. I pressed play on my go-to race day anthem, letting "Real Gone" by Sheryl Crow blast through my headphones on repeat. If this song didn’t put me in the zone, nothing would—it was basically my theme song at this point.

Finally dressed, I took out my helmet. Today, I’d be wearing something special. Up until now, I’d been using my usual helmet, but today was different. This one was for my mom. The design was everything she’d loved: a watercolor sea turtle on each side, painted in her honor. And the top? Like Max’s iconic lion, but this time, it was the face of a sea turtle, wise and serene, watching over me. I could almost hear her laugh as I ran my fingers over the shell details. This one’s for you, Mom.

Leaving the driver’s room, I headed towards the garage, spotting Fernando getting weighed, his usual intense focus evident even with all the last-minute prep happening around us. I gave him a nod, but he was too busy to notice. The team was buzzing, everyone moving with that pre-race electricity.

Before long, I was strapped into the car, staring down the rows of vehicles lined up before me. Silence filled my helmet as I mentally ran through my race strategy. My goal was clear: make it into the points. It wasn’t just about my debut anymore; it was about proving that I belonged here. I’d shut up the critics, the doubters, the ones who said I didn’t have what it took. One pass at a time, I’d show them exactly why I was here.

With just minutes left before the race began, the team pulled the last of the covers from my car and gave it one final check before stepping back off the track. A calm washed over me, the nerves melting into pure focus. It was time.

As the lights went out for the formation lap, I pressed the pedal, feeling the power beneath me roar to life. One by one, the cars in front began moving, and I eased into line, the vibrations of the track buzzing through my hands and up my arms. As I made my way around the circuit, I took in the crowds, fans pressed up against the barricades, flags waving, people cheering, everyone vying for a glimpse of the action before the real race even began. Some held banners and signs with drivers’ names, a few even with my number and the sea turtle logo—my symbol.

I could feel the weight of all those eyes, every fan, every camera trained on the car, and I let it sink in. This was it. For a split second, my mind flashed back to all the hard work, the sleepless nights, and every lap it took to reach this moment. I had something to prove to the fans, to the team, to everyone who’d doubted me. But right now, the only thing on my mind was to trust my path—just like the sea turtle my mom had loved so much.

As the formation lap came to an end, the tension in the air shifted into something electric. The cars lined up on the grid, engines rumbling in anticipation, and I felt a surge of adrenaline course through me. The lights began to sequence, and I focused on the start, visualizing my strategy for the race. This was my moment, and I was ready.

The lights went out, and with a roar, I launched off the line. The initial surge was exhilarating; I was quick on the throttle, feeling the car respond to my commands as I made my way into Turn 1. I immediately positioned myself on the inside line, expertly avoiding the chaos of the cars jostling for position. I could hear the crackle of the radio as Landon encouraged me, reminding me to stay calm and focused.

By the time I reached the first series of corners, I was already gaining ground. I overtook a struggling driver on the outside, timing my move perfectly as I accelerated past him, narrowly avoiding a collision. The thrill of passing my first competitor sent a rush of confidence through me. I could see Franco up ahead, holding steady in P15, and I set my sights on catching him.

As I maneuvered through the tighter sections of the track, I began to find my rhythm. I was in the zone, my mind clear, my instincts sharp. Every corner felt like an opportunity, and I seized each one with determination. The roar of the crowd grew louder with every pass I made, and I could feel the energy fueling my drive.

By the end of the first five laps, I had already climbed up to P15. The rush of adrenaline pushed me further as I entered the sixth lap, where I saw two cars ahead battling for position. I took advantage of their fight, threading my car between them at just the right moment. It felt like a dance, fluid and precise. I could hear Landon’s voice in my ear, excitement evident as I made my way to P12.

With each lap, I continued to push, my confidence growing as I settled into the flow of the race. I navigated through the midfield, expertly carving my way around each driver that stood in my path. Before I knew it, I was in P10, and the battle for the final point was heating up. I had Franco in my sights, and he was locked in a fierce duel with a driver ahead. I took a deep breath, my focus zeroing in on the track ahead.

As we approached the DRS zone, I positioned myself perfectly behind Franco, ready to capitalize on the situation. The moment the DRS activated, I unleashed the power of my car, speeding past him as I made my way into P9. A rush of exhilaration flooded over me—I was in the points! I could hardly believe it. The realization that I had come from P18 to P9 within 2/3s of the race filled me with a sense of accomplishment and the determination to keep pushing forward. With my mother’s spirit guiding me, I 2ould fight for better positions. 

The final laps flew by in a blur, each corner, each straight a chance to cement my place in this race. I held P9 fiercely, defending against anyone who dared to challenge me, pushing the car to its limits while staying calm under pressure. As I crossed the finish line, a wave of relief and triumph washed over me, the weight of the entire race lifting in an instant. My radio crackled with life, and suddenly the cheers of the team filled my helmet, their voices a symphony of celebration.

“P9! Absolutely incredible, y/n!” Landon’s voice shouted, brimming with pride. “You did it, you’re in the points on your debut!”

I could hear Marcus chiming in, his excitement nearly drowning out the others, “You’ve made history today. Unbelievable drive—everyone here is beyond proud!”

A smile broke across my face as I took a moment to let it all sink in. The crowd’s cheers blended with the voices in my ear, my heart racing with pure exhilaration. I lifted a hand in a quiet tribute to my mom, feeling her presence there on the track. This was just the beginning—I’d proven I belonged here. 

Pulling into parc fermé, I powered down the car, feeling the silence wrap around me as the engine’s roar faded. Just as I started climbing out, I heard someone shout my name over the buzz of the paddock. I turned and saw Franco charging toward me, a huge grin plastered on his face. Before I could react, he reached me, practically tackling me in a bear hug as he lifted me off my feet and spun me around.

“You raced beautifully, hermosa!” he yelled, his excitement infectious. I couldn’t help but laugh, caught up in his energy as he set me back down.

“And you! That defense was insane—I thought I’d never get around you!” I replied, still catching my breath. We grinned at each other, peeling off our helmets and balaclavas, both flushed and exhilarated.

“Seriously,” he said, eyes bright, “for a debut race? You were unstoppable. I knew you’d make waves, but that was something else.”

“Thanks, Franco,” I said, feeling the pride and relief mix with a new rush of excitement. “And I know that won’t be the last time I’m chasing you down.”

“Can’t wait for it,” he replied with a laugh. We shared a nod, silently acknowledging the start of something bigger between us. 

As we pulled away, someone called out for us. I turned, and to my surprise, racing legend Lewis Hamilton was walking over, looking exhausted but with a warm, genuine smile. "That was spectacular from both of you," he said, nodding at Franco and me. "I can’t wait to watch the highlights later. You both defended and overtook with skill today—I’m excited to see how you both keep improving."

Franco and I exchanged a quick look of shared amazement and thanked him, both of us a bit starstruck. Just then, Alex appeared, pulling Franco aside, leaving me with Lewis.

“So, y/n,” he began, his tone more serious now, “I actually wanted to have a word with you. I didn’t want to overwhelm you earlier, so I thought now might be the best time—when your spirits are high and you’ve got a bit of space to breathe.” I nodded, curious, as he continued.

“I know it can be tough to find real allies here,” he said gently. “Especially as someone who stands out in a sport that doesn’t have many like you.” His words hit home; I’d felt the isolation creeping in, even with the excitement of today’s race. “I went through a similar thing when I started. I want you to know, if you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I’m here. Whether it’s for advice, venting, or just someone who gets it—don’t hesitate to find me.”

A wave of gratitude washed over me, and I managed a smile, feeling the pressure I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying start to lift. “Thank you, Lewis. That really means a lot,” I said, trying to convey how much his words reassured me. He gave a small, understanding nod, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

“Anytime,” he said with a kind smile. “You’ve got a bright future ahead. Just keep your head up.” With a reassuring nod, Lewis turned and walked back toward his team, leaving me standing there with a sense of both calm and determination. I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in, feeling a surge of confidence. 

Gathering myself, I turned and headed back to my team’s garage, the noise of the paddock buzzing around me, but somehow, I felt more focused than ever. As I walked, a few crew members caught my eye, giving me nods and pats on the back, their own excitement mirroring my own. 

I saw Marcus waiting with a grin, surrounded by engineers who all looked just as thrilled. I knew I’d made a mark today—not just on the track but on the people who believed in me. And as I joined them, I couldn’t help but smile.

[undercoverslutt]

bestiesolderbrother! simon <- masterlist simon "ghost" riley x reader

during the summer before sophomore year.

let's take a blast to the past, okay?

"So, when are you going back to college?" His voice flings from across the room, and it's like his timber is clawing up your back, you feel it at your neck. Simon's voice did so much to you, it was so different than all the other guys at your campus. So deep, provocative and protecting. He was only a few years older than you, and his sister. He didn't go to college like you two, but he was extremely smart. He came back from bootcamp earlier in the summer, and was staying at his parents house until he could find his own place.

Simon was the "problem child", always getting into trouble, never really knowing what was next with him. But he was so smart, street smart. You never felt more safe with a man's presence in your entire life. Your dad was never around, and your mom never really cared where you went off to. So you were always here, with your best friend and her older brother, and their parents. You did like being in their company, this was your second home, if need be. And sometimes you did need it. No, you didn't really need to be here for the comfort aspect, but when your mom locked you out of the house one too many times, you couldn't help but need to come to take a few showers and get some spare clothes from your best friend during the summer. Her parents were very understanding. Even if they didn't talk about it much, it was almost unspoken.

"I go back in like," You close your eyes as you tally up the days, feeling a bit overwhelmed at having to talk to this guy, "I'd say a month and a half."

This was going to be your sophomore year in college. Were you ready for school again? No. Did you want some new atmosphere? Yes. Were you missing your own dorm? Yes. You didn't have a roommate, thank the heavens.

It was really quiet in this part of town. And your best friend's got a new boyfriend so she's rarely ever home anymore, let alone when you guys go off to college. You barely see her at all. It's like you're living in her house, without her. But she said she would be back later tonight so you guys could go out to eat, maybe? That's if her man doesn't string along

But Simon was here a-lot of the time. And he was nice to you. Very respectful. Trying to make you feel as normal as possible. He tended to ask you many questions when you guys were alone, and you thought it was sweet. He just wanted you to be able to talk to someone. About anything.

"Excited?" He continues.

"Yeah, I am." You let out a laugh, you know your non-enthusiastic character was completely juxtaposing everything you were saying. "It's just school though, you know?"

Simon nods, and starts picking up a jacket, almost like he was following your movements. "You got a boyfriend that I need to know about?"

A boyfriend?

"No?" You say shortly. You weren't in the mood for guys, I guess. You begin pulling your shoes from the cubby, you always put them in the third box to the right. It was yours at this point. "Not at the moment, Si. Why are you asking?"

You begin to tie your shoes, bending down so you don't have to look at him at all. You don't know if you feel embarrassed, awkward, or just weirdly protected by his questions. He's quiet for awhile. "If you're anything like my sister, I want to give you some advice."

Advice. Please.

"Don't be like her, okay?" He starts off, and you fucking laugh. You fucking laugh, and he stops in his tracks. "What? I'm being serious."

"I am too. You don't have to worry about my decision-making. If that's what you're saying." You look up at him finally. So he's just trying to be that type of person right now. One thing you hated, was someone trying to give you "advice" on shit you didn't need help with. You were fine on your own and always had been. You didn't need anything. You didn't need a parent.

"No, no, not at all." He repeated, finally situating a jacket on his bulky body. "I'm just saying."

"What?" You want him to continue, but you don't know if he will.

"Just be careful." He stops, zips up his jacket and grabs his phone. You grab your keys and the bag you had brought. The next words he says are heavy to you, and slow, like he's trying to make you understand what he was trying to say. "You've grown up."

That heat crawls back, down to your palms and up your neck. He was acknowledging you. "I know, Simon."

You wanted to say something more about this, but the only thing happening was a weird, tight-lipped smile on your face. "I'll catch you later, ghost."

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 26 Commentary

Alrightyy I've mustered up what's left of my brain for a belated ep 26 commentary post. IRL responsibilities are getting a bit away from me so I wasn't able to spend as much time on this as usual; apologies if the haste shows through! Consider this more reaction than meta.

As always, spoilers under the cut:

A carry-over comment, but I really do appreciate the Li Lun/ZYC scene in ep 25 for how it solidified ZYC's resolve and reminded him of where his heart is, what he believes in, what he chooses to defend. Such a load-bearing and pivotal conversation for both characters in opposite directions of development. It also makes ZYC's return to the Bureau triumphant in a way, despite all the preceding trauma, despair, and hopelessness. WX embraces him in relief that he's safe and in comfort for what they've all just been through, and for us, it's doubly meaningful as a sort of homecoming after a confrontation that only we have witnessed. It's also interesting, the cutaway as they hug, the things we have been made privy to and the things that are kept private from us.

Ouuughh the lines voiced over as ZYZ and ZYC meet eyes for the first time since all that transpired in Tianxiang Pavilion. It gives such a deep sense of wordless understanding and intimacy. I'm reminded of when the show did that for Ranyi and Miss Qi's final lines.

As I mentioned previously, a lot of subtext became text in this episode, which was quite exciting (and also extremely adorable the way ZYC was like "I think I've said too much" /// afterwards). I didn't expect ZYC to convey his understanding of ZYZ to him so soon, but that really goes back to something I love about ZYC: that he doesn't really waste time expressing something once he's come to an emotional conclusion. Maybe there's something to be said there about how he knows, after the loss of his family, how important it is to say the words when you have them to the people in front of you while they're still here.

If ZYC's words and his tears offered to a catatonic ZYZ in ep 23 were an expression of star-crossed and conflicted love, this parallel scene is just an utterly unrestrained confession, the stars be damned.

Also, tbh I never found ZYC's reactions to ZYZ to be unfounded or unreasonable, even when misguided in the beginning (and necessarily so, given the narrative and premise) or at times harsh (which I also found much-needed for ZYZ to hear, and delivered with obvious sympathetic anguish). He was clearly reflecting and actively revising his own preconceived notions this entire time, feeling for ZYZ the whole way through, and I do think he's demonstrated realistically and impressively the full extent of empathy perhaps as far as it can possibly stretch without personally experiencing ZYZ's life himself and while still living and feeling for his own. But to see ZYC so ready to address his previous flaws, to admit them and correct them, to go beyond them and to reach out so plainly for ZYZ in front of him now that he has that personal experience—the relationship between them has transcended the initial set-up of two opposing characters meeting in the middle. The show has gone that extra step and made their perspectives one. And given that I didn't personally find that step to be narratively necessary, so to say, (as in, even without it there's not truly a narrative obstacle because I already believed ZYC loves ZYZ despite everything and we've already seen the lengths he'll go to not to kill ZYZ), it feels like a choice in every definition of the word. Like a development motivated by love all the way down.

WX gets the least traumatic cloak-draping scenes out of the three of them, thank god.

Oh shit I forgot about fixing the Wilderness I'm so glad they didn't lmao.

Ahhh the crossroads moment at a literal (kind of) crossroads right before entering the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area. ZYC suddenly wanting to go alone or back out, stuck weighing the danger to everyone's lives, who they can and can't save depending on his choices. It makes me think of what happens when we let intense love in and it comes with intense fear, makes us freeze up. Suddenly, the stakes are in sharp relief, and the courage to move forward isn't so simple anymore.

"修好了，你也別死" ("Once it's fixed, don't die either.") Head in hands. ZYC's voice here, his expression, that desperation. Yeah I think this episode was so draining because of how all pretense is being stripped away and all that's left is ZYC's profound love for everyone, so raw and vulnerable that it hurts to watch, especially knowing he won't have it easy trying to keep everyone alive.

Kind of love how freely ZYC cries and says the vulnerable things in front of all his loved ones. Like. That's truly his family, his people, his heart.

ZYZ please. Imagine ZYC's grief without you. Please just stay.

Yay 12 seconds of angst-free bickering right before (as someone else called it) the trolley problem

Ok so, I'm not sure how common this interpretation/reading of the following scene is, but it's been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna include it here. If y'all disagree, pls disregard! Basically, when ZYC first turned to PSJ and thanked her, I was terrified for a moment that he would ask her to stay. Because on one hand, ZYC would never, but on the other hand, imo there's a lot of (I think deliberate) ambiguity baked into the scene. In ZYC turning to PSJ right after we're told "one of your friends or all three of them," in him starting the series of goodbyes with the character he has the least onscreen development with, in the finality of what he says to her but also the lack of clarity on just who this is final for, in PSJ's expression and WX's reaction, in the dramatic turning away at the end. Like, until he turns away from her, I think there's room for interpretation on what he's decided to do, and as someone who's grown quite surprisingly invested in the ZYC-PSJ dynamic, I'm kind of morbidly interested in this reading of events.

What might be going through PSJ's head at ZYC's words, if at this moment she hasn't yet realized his self-sacrificial intent? Does she think she's going to be asked to stay? Does she assess the situation, conclude that she's the person ZYC is least close to and perhaps the one least able to contribute in whatever comes next as the only human here, and begin resigning herself to this outcome? Are the tears in her eyes the sole indication of her conflicted unwillingness to die here that makes it through because as he's talking, she's evaluated that this is the best possible scenario for them all (esp for WX) and will commit herself to his decision even if it also breaks her heart to be chosen this way?

I may be taking this and running a bit far with it, but I just think the ambiguity of this one brief moment can create such angsty implications between the lines (as if we needed more angst...) and despite their scarce onscreen interactions, I'm kind of a sucker for the "extremely noble (to the point of tragedy) knight choosing to acknowledge and follow and dedicate their silent loyalty to a leader they deeply respect" dynamic, even if it is understated with all the other relationships going on in this show. Given how reticent PSJ is, it makes a meaningful impact on me every time she displays concern for ZYC, so you know it crushed me to watch her desperately and irrationally (the most pragmatic of them all!) try to shoot at him with her arrows while knowing there's no way it'd work. The way she was the first to act, the sound of nothing but the ice and the stretch of the bowstring. I really do love their platonic bond much more than I expected to.

Oof. The freezing. I don't want to sound like a broken record but I loved TJR's acting here because I think it's so easy for this scene to look awkward as he's stuck facing forward and pretending to freeze haha. His microexpressions as he realizes ZYZ is behind him, as he tries to chase him away with his words, as he's probably burning from the inside out with all that ice. That last tear as his gaze turns hollow. A+

I also love ZYZ's lines about not believing he can't overcome ZYC's powers like yeah this is a newborn demon with no inner core and ice powers that he taught him lmao

Okay, that's a wrap for my thoughts on this ep! I was originally going to include ep 27 reactions here too, but seeing as this is getting a little long, maybe I'll roll 27 into my thoughts on ep 28? We shall see!

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just “had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[hotchshands]

Somebody's Watching Me | Chapter 2

Masterlist| Taglist | Other Chapters

Summary: The BAU continues their investigation into your stalker. As the unsub grows bolder, they grow closer to uncovering your identity behind all the grainy images and videos the unsub left behind. You are completely obvious to the fact that someone is watching you.

Word Count: 1k

Contains: slow burn, semi-nudity, and possible plot holes cause idk where this is going anymore

A/N: Be sure to check out my other series, Teacher’s Pet!

The team went home to rest before yet another busy day, but Hotch couldn't leave just yet. Gracia hasn't gotten a single hit on this woman, and the team was nowhere close to building a profile. Hotch knew that the faster they got through all the images, the faster they could build a solid profile. So, he sat in the screening room alone, drinking crappy coffee, hoping to see something helpful.

He eventually got bored of whatever video he was on and decided to skip to the more recent videos the unsub posted. He clicks on a video dated October 12. The angle was the same as before. The camera pointed at her window, but this time, it was different. Hotch could see you or at least your figure getting dressed. He froze, pressing pause on the video.

The idea of watching a stranger undress felt wrong and perverted. A part of him was unsurprised by the video, knowing that this kind of thing is what stalkers live for, but it felt wrong. Nevertheless, Hotch had to watch it in order to profile both you and this unsub. He resumes the video and continues watching.

You lift your shirt up before turning slightly away from the window and peeling it off. Hotch peered at your hair, falling against your bare back. The light from the window shined on you and your brown hair. You were comfortable enough to have your curtains pulled back as you undressed but not comfortable enough to put on a show. Hotch couldn't understand that, but then again, he knew all about the world's most twisted and sick people. This unsub was one of them.

After watching that, Hotch decided to call it a night, leaving the screening room and heading for the elevator.

You were rushing to get ready for class when you felt off. Peeling off your pajamas to get into appropriate class attire, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Is someone watching me? Growing up in a small neighborhood, you had no problem undressing in front of a window; you did it all the time. However, as you removed your shirt, you couldn't help but feel like this time was different.

You brushed it off and chalked it up to paranoia, but truthfully, this isn't the first time you suspected something awry. For the past few months, every time you stood in front of a window, you felt it as if it were Big Brother, but you knew that was not the case. Somebody was, in fact, watching you, but you were clueless.

The next day, the team gathers bright and early to investigate this unsub. Hotch got their first, sorting through and organizing all the photos the Cyber Alert Team left. Once the entire team was there and ready to work, Hotch began, "Thank you all for being here on time. Let's get to work. What do we know so far?"

"Well, we know this is his first and only victim," Emily said.

"We also know that stalkers are deeply insecure, and this particular stalker is likely to have a personal connection to our Jane Doe," JJ said.

"Don't forget those stalkers snap when anything gets between them and their victims. This guy's no different," Rossi added.

"So this unsub's a ticking timebomb. The closer we get to finding out who this chick is, the more danger she's in," Morgan said.

"We know how they met. In the unsub's correspondence, he said they work together but never mentions it again. After that, he's more careful not to expose any details about her," Spencer said.

"Why keep her identity a secret? From his vantage point, he could easily get a clean shot of her face. Why doesn't he?" Hotch poses to the team.

"Could it be a counter-measure?" JJ responds.

The team grows silent, taking in all the clues and piecing them together to solve the puzzle. During this time, Hotch remembers what he saw in one of the videos last night. He couldn't get that image of you undressing out of his head, and he didn't know if he should tell the team or keep it to himself. He knew it was a significant detail but was embarrassed to share it. He just didn't know why.

Rossi could see the wheels turning in Hotch's head. "Something we should know, Aaron?" Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head and told the team about what he saw. "Last night, I watched some more of the tapes, and I think you should see them. Gracia, can you-"

"Already on it!" Gracia works her magic and pulls up the videos on her computer.

"It should be dated October 12," Hotch said.

Gracia finds the video and turns her computer to show the team. The team watches as you undress, unaware of being watched. After you change, the video cuts to you leaving your apartment. Hotch didn't see that before...

"This guy's getting bolder, that's for sure," Morgan says.

"Gracia, show us the latest upload. Would yuh? I wanna see just how bold he's gotten," Rossi said.

Upon his command, Gracia pulls up the latest video, dated April 18, months later. The video is drastically different from the others. The footage was taken from inside rather than outside.

"So now's his in her house? Why the shift?" Emily ponders.

Hotch wasn't sure why he hadn't thought to look at the latest video or why the thought of some creep sneaking into your house and setting up a camera made his blood boil. He was off his game and determined to get his head straight. He pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking, "Ok, we need to rethink strategy. Something caused him to shift the camera. He needed to get closer to the victim, but why? That's what we need to find out."

The team nodded in agreement, having started to see a shift in their boss. He was usually so level-headed during every case, but this one was different. The BAU rarely investigates stalkers; on those rare occasions, those cases go over smoothly. So far, this particular case has been all sorts of special.

Taglist: @uselessnewt @lalaehlaa @de-duchess @targaryenswhxre @mrs-ssa-hotch @reidfile

[stxneflxwers]

tough love.

⋯⁂ summary. he could use tough love, but only yours.

⋯⁂ a/n. this glorious idea hit me... i had to write it immediately !! also if it reads weird halfway thru, it's cuz my internet fucking died and i had to finish this at two different times D:

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine x gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. post-penacony. all lowercase. reader is brutally honest. aventurine gets some tough love. hurt/comfort. you knew each other pre-penacony. some cussing. awkward confession. you give him a hug.

aventurine is tired. fatigued. exhausted.

penacony has been one brutally eye-opening experience after another for him, and many others. a part of him wants to sleep for so long, so so long. perhaps not permanently, but when he feels well enough to face the world again. maybe.

this place is a goddamn nightmare, he thinks with a wry and weak chuckle.

right now, he's standing in clockie studios theme park – a place he's grown to partly resent, partly appreciate. he stares down the repaired big screen with crossed arms as he leans against a wall. it's now so isolated here, but people have bigger fish to fry, he thinks. yet... he can't help but feel so small in comparison. briefly, he feels relieved he isn't in the spotlight.

"you know, that was pretty shitty of you. maybe the shittiest. but... maybe you've learned your lesson, hm?"

a familiar voice nearby echoes in his ears – your voice. your sweet yet painfully forthright voice. you're perhaps the only damned person in this unforgiving universe that could hope to understand his inner machinations.

now, he finds himself appreciating you more than ever. maybe he's ready to be seen, even just a little. but only by you.

he smirks, "yeah, maybe i did." he laughs weakly.

silence casts a thick blanket over you two. maybe for a moment too long.

"you know," you start again, "i've been incredibly worried over your dumb ass." you sigh, yet it's the sweetest sound to him.

"ah," he mutters shyly, "my bad." he can't stop smiling, but it's hardly one borne from his false bravado.

"...damn right it's 'your bad'," you frown slightly, the sight hurts to see. and then you stride up to him with tentative confidence, "...i missed you, too." you stand a couple of paces away from him.

"you know what? i missed you like hell too." he confesses, there's something mysteriously soft in his gaze as he stares you down. his gaze lacks its usual lightlessness, it's the first time you've ever seen a shimmer of something honest in him.

"you're finally changing, then!" you grin, finally closing the distance, "i believe in you, aven. i always have, i always will. and, well…" you hesitate, a rare occurrence. "…i'm honored to witness your growth and change. you're not immutable… and, inevitably, everything is mutable." you whisper.

aventurine can't stop himself from blushing.

he's not sure why he's blushing – is it the proximity? no, he's used to standing near you. is it your words? no, not that either. is it your mere presence? ...maybe.

you notice his pink cheeks immediately. and you grin.

"what's with that look on your face, huh–"

"i love you."

you damn near choke on your own oxygen. (not that oxygen is entirely a necessity in a dream.) now you're the flustered one. actually, both of you are flustered – his red face rivaling your surprised expression.

"i–" he starts, "uh..." his mouth hangs open. why in the absolute hell did he just blurt that out? "haha! got ya! you know me and my–"

"that wasn't a prank, so don't even try pulling that on me..." your surprise shifts into a half-hearted glare, and a little pout that he wants to kiss so badly.

"haha... o-okay, not a prank..." he raises his hands defensively.

and then there's naught but silence. very awkward silence. the most awkward silence. he's still blushing, you're still glaring. he glances around, as if searching for the nearest exit, and when his eyes land back on you, you've taken a step closer to him.

"i love you too, you reckless idiot."

you sigh as your expression softens, even your voice is as light as a halovian's feather. it's music to his ears. he cracks a small smile, it's genuine and bashful with the way it curves his lips.

"...and i know my love can't fill the holes in your heart," you whisper, "but... you'll let me at least help you out with putting band-aids on for now, right?" you smile, he can taste how bittersweet it must feel for you.

"heh," he laughs breathily, "as long as it's you helping out."

"good. i can't keep pushing my way into your world, anyway, so... please... let me stay a while longer." you pull him into a tentative, careful hug – holding him like he's made of glass. and maybe he is.

"i..." he trails off as a sudden surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm him, bubbling in his chest. "stay." he hides his face in your shoulder.

"for as long as you'll have me."

"then... always?"

"always."

[snowmoonwrites]

Virus: Chibify! Chapter1

Tokyo Debunker fic. General audience, Full Fluffy crack. Let's put the ghouls into onesies! First victim? Lyca!

A new Curse have been going rampant in the Academy. No one knew how it started, who was the perpetrator, or what was the reason for it all. What everyone knew is that it left people as toddlers for 24 hours. Not more, not less. Given that it was not malicious in nature, at least it didn’t seem to be so, the Academy said it is an anomaly virus that will have to run its course.

That is what you all have been told, at least. You thought that the ghouls, just like usual, will be immune to this as well. At least, that was what you thought. Until you stepped into Obscuary’s dorm to get a signature from Lyca on one of the forms. When asked, Rui told you Lyca hadn’t left his room that day left, and feel free to barge in. While uncomfortable with the idea, after several minutes of futile knocking you opened the door. And what welcomed you was a sight you weren’t ready for. Instead of the grown-up Lyca, in the bed was a small child, curled up into a ball.

As you went closer, the boy’s eyes snapped open, turning to face you. A growl left his throat, but it immediately died out when he saw you. He probably retained at least some part of his memories if he recognized you. Or maybe your scent was familiar. Either way, he tilted his head to the side, looking positively like a puppy. Oh, my! That is exactly what he was after all! OH NO! You shook yourself, this is not the time for this! You lifted him up, bundling him into too-big clothes, and ran out. 

“Rui!” When his head appeared at the other end of the stairs you showed him Lyca in your arms. “I don’t think you all are immune to the virus.”

“Clearly not,” he replied letting you pass by. “I don’t think we have anything that would fit him.”

Oh, yeah, you can’t make Lyca go through the day butt naked. Clearly, that would not be wise. But you also couldn’t let him bi in his oversized clothes either. You knew from experience that asking the Academy will do you no good.

“I’ll manage it somehow. I’ll bring him back when he is back to a reasonable age.” You nodded to Rui while walking out of the dorm. While walking through the garden you opened your phone and called the one person you knew will be able to get you onesies in less than an hour. 

“Yes”

“Umm… Not to sound strange… But would you be able to get me onesies for children around…” You looked at Lyca in your arms. “How old are you now?” When the answer was a confused face you let it go. “Two? Maybe three years old of age?”

“The virus?”

“The virus. It turns out you ghouls are not at all immune to it either.” Maybe your voice showed a bit too much of glee as you could hear a long-suffering sigh on the other end of the line.

“How many do you need?”

“Around 21?” 

“Got it. Come pick it up in an hour.”

The phone call ended without any more words exchanged. It was typical, you just shrugged and made your way towards Frostheim. You looked down at Lyca, bouncing him a bit in your arms.

“How about we go see Subaru-kun after we get you some new clothes?”

Lyca’s ears perked up, it seemed like he wasn’t fully able to control his transformation. Whether it was an age thing or the Cursevirus, you didn’t know. He looked up at you, very excited as his tail wagged in a furious rhythm. You would have bet your entire life that Lyca knew who you were talking about.

When you stepped into Frostheim you were greeted by several students tending to small toddlers. They sent you sympathetic looks. At least theirs aren’t ghouls. You are still afraid what will happen with some of the others when they get turned into toddlers. Will Ed become a human again? The virus was too confusing for you, and even Yuri said he knows next to nothing about it. Which clearly hurt his pride to admit.

Well, given the situation, you decided to focus on the task at hand. You walked up to Jin’s room and knocked 5 times as usual. When your phone vibrated, you walked right in, knowing you got permission to enter. Or at least you thought that was what it meant! But clearly not! Jin was half naked, pulling up his shirt. You squeaked and put a hand before the small Lyca’s eyes.

“You should read the message.” Jin drawled, not in a hurry to hide his naked torso. And you felt no shame at looking. Well, one of your arms was holding Lyca, the other covering his eyes. You had no free hand. What were you supposed to do? Turn around? Maybe? Walk out? Possibly. But you didn’t care at all. 

“Where are the onesies?” You looked over the room, looking for a big pile of children’s clothing. You spotted a box next to the bed, nodded towards it. “Is that it?” 

Jin grunted in an affirmative. Finally finishing buttoning up his shirt. “I did not choose them. I take no criticism for them.”

“Got it.” You set down Lyca on the bed and opened up the box, lifting out the nicely folded onesies. They were all animal themed… Hmmm… You looked through them. Some of them, you instantly knew which ghoul should wear when they get infected. Some, you were hesitant about. You fished out the wolf one and helped Lyca into it. A cheesy choice. But he looked so cute! 

Your phone’s folder will be full of cute ghouls! You snapped a quick photo before helping Lyca down from the bed.

“Let’s go surprise Subaru-kun, hmm?” You reached out, and Lyca grabbed onto your hand, pulling you towards the door.

“Go! Let’ go! Let’s go to Suba-kun!”

“I’ll pick up the clothes on my way home.” You called out to Jin as you let Lyca pull you towards the door. He stepped in front of you two, eliciting a growl from Lyca’s throat. 

“I’ll make one of the brats bring it to your dorm. The child might not turn back till much later.” He patted your head then stole a kiss onto your forehead before moving out of the way and letting the kiddified Lyca pull you towards Hotarubi. Clearly following his nose rather than basing anything on his knowledge. Thankfully the onesies came with protective shoes, so you won’t have to carry all the boys around all day.

During your walk you wrote to Subaru to let him know that you are bringing a virus affected Lyca. He wrote back about his willingness to host you both till Lyca got better. You thanked him, telling him you two are on your way. 

When you arrived at the edge of the dorm, where sunny weather turned into everlasting rain, Subaru stood there waiting for you with a spare umbrella. Lyca made uppie hands towards him. Subaru instantly took him into his hands.

“Ah, let me hold the umbrella so you won’t get wet.” You took the umbrella and put it over them. While you got a little wet, at least the small Lyca got through the rain without a speck of raindrop. All the while he was talking off Subaru’s ear about all the things with the enthusiasm only small children have.

As you walked into the room, Haku threw a towel on your shoulder, scolding you for not taking care of yourself better. You let him and Zenji fuss over you, keeping an eye on Lyca, who seemed to be an energetic child, who liked to talk off Subaru’s ear. He totally had favourite persons. He didn’t even spare a glance at Haku, but pulled you closer so you all could listen to his tales about chasing squirrels in the forest. Whether these were such fond memories that they stayed with him, or if they got clearer due to the virus, you didn’t know. It was certainly cute.

What made your day perhaps was the way Haku got a carton box out of nowhere, and put the small Lyca into it, who immediately claimed it as his new den. And if Haku tried to go even an inch closer that Lyca deemed safe, his ears would perk up, a growl leaving him. But then he would look at Subaru, waiting to be chastised and he would take out his best puppy eyes to look pitiful.

Your phone’s gallery held new pictures, a folder dedicated to smol ghouls now. You were looking forward to gathering more.

ALSO Guys. I made a Kofi. So feel free to send me your love over there too <3

[zepay]

I've finally watched the entire Moon x Bagi date, here's some tidbits about Bagi's past, present and future as she explained to Moon.

Moon asked why Bagi doesn't care about herself (regarding her suicidal/savior behavior)

She said that her psychologist asked her the same thing, and told her that she only went to Valigma to her job, help where she can, and go home, so she shouldn't care what happens to her.

She told her that she had a bad childhood, not because of her parents, but because her brother (Cellbit) got kidnapped, and everyone told her that she shouldn't pursue him, "he probably got lost, he drowned" but later she found out why they said to her that.

She became a detective to find him, but when she finally did she told Moon that he already had a new life and didn't really care about her, and he didn't even remember her. She said "I spent my entire life searching for him and when I found him he didn't give a shit about me"

She said she went to a really dangerous place to find him, and when she left she went back to São Paulo to work (Brazil canon!!!) and spoke about how cramped her apartment is. Nowadays, her most common job as a private investigator is to find out if there is infidelity in a relationship.

Moon asked about what happened to her brother, she told her that he got married, and went his way, and she said that she was "hanging out" (idk how to translate this, but the word she used is way too casual considering they were about to get married lmao) with someone, but after an "incident" they got separated and lost contact with her.

Moon remarked that only bad things happened to her, and she told her that she was getting back on her feet, she started working again, and now she's doing it for her because previously she was doing it to find her brother.

She dreamed her entire life about how it would be to find her brother and get him out of whatever was happening to her, but when it finally happened she was disillusioned, she said she spent all of her life thinking about tomorrow and lived today, and how she's trying to change that.

After a while, she said that after her disillusion she spent a while locked in her apartment, and she clarified that it was one year since she found her brother, and because of that, in the heat of the moment she puts herself in dangerous situations, but she didn't really realize that until Denix spoke with her about that.

And that's about it of Bagi lore, she asked Moon about her life, and after flirting a bunch, they kissed and both ended stream out of embarrassment lmao.

Now about some personal takes, I really didn't expect Ak!Bagi to be just one year older than q!Bagi, idk but she was already so jaded I expected more time to have passed. She didn't mention Tina a bunch, just by passing, I'm obviously biased but I think she just isn't ready to talk about her, especially to another romantic interest.

Most conspicuously missing, though, was any mention of Empanada, which I interpret as a massive open wound Bagi isn't willing to share with anyone yet, but I could be wrong.

I find it very interesting character-wise that they kissed on their first encounter, but I suppose it's mostly a Tina thing. Bagi would wait until she was ready and never took any initiative because she didn't want to make Tina uncomfortable, and while Moon doesn't have the self-hatred Tina had, I do think there's an "I won't wait that long this time", as she regrets not get to marry Tina.

Anyway, I'm glad Bagi spoke about her past to someone, and I hope she can find happiness with Moon, she really needs a win. 😭

[rory-multifandom-mess]

i see you've gotten yourself into the rabbit hole that is the transformers franchise! So here's a simple question:

Out of all the iterations you've seen, who's your favorite Autobot and favorite Decepticon?

Oh my GOODDD. Give me a second to even remember all the iterations I’ve seen one second

Ok so MTMTE/LL, Prime, Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Acadamy, Animated, and Armada. I’ll start with Animated because that was the first one I was introduced to.

~~~~

Tranformers: Animated - Favorite Autobot has definitely got to be Bumblebee, but Jazz is a close second. I see a lot of myself in that lil yellow guy— constantly being picked on for his height, self esteem issues that come off as over confidence, constantly wanting to prove himself— yeah that’s just me but in robot font. And much worse. Jazz being a close second is entirely because he was just really cool.

Now my favorite Decepticon from Animated is 1,000% Blitzwing. I fucking LOVED his german accent and his personality switch gimmick. I hope it’s not disrespectful to call it a gimmick, but like. If you watch the show it really is just a gimmick. You got the cold and calm one, usually the main face, the brute with all the anger in the world, and then the Batshit Crazy guy. He’s so incredibly silly. I love him.

(The rest under the cut, this is gonna get long)

~~~~

Tranformers: Prime - Favorite Autobot is EAAASILYY Smokescreen. How could you NOT like him??? His character arc is one of, if not THE, best in the whole series. He first joins the Autobots acting like a new cadet, arrogant and sloppy, but raring to fight and throw himself headfirst into battle. He was kind of rude to the others, but through experience and making mistakes, he begins to mature and apologizes when needed. He beats himself up when he makes mistakes, no matter how small (me too).

But then, at the end of season 2 and beginning of season 3 I think, he goes through something traumatic. Optimus, nearly dead, presents the matrix to him, saying that it was time for a new prime, and that prime was to be him. And like. You expect Smokescreen to take it. BUT HE DOESN’T. Instead he goes and brings the Forge of Solus Prime to Optimus and REVIVES HIM.

Smokescreen refuses the Matrix of Leadership, not because he was in denial about Optimus dying, but because he recognized that he wasn’t ready. He showed humility, something he hadn’t shown since he arrived, and he showed compassion. Like. Just. LOOK AT THIS CLIP FROM THE MOVIE.

Anyway. Smokescreen makes me ill. Moving on

My favorite Decepticon from Prime is Shockwave. For no good reason other than god he’s hot. His voice…. his walk….. he could eviscerate me and I’d thank him.

~~~~

MTMTE/LL - Now I would call this IDW but I don’t want to be misleading since I haven’t exactly read every single IDW comic in existence, so I’ll just stick to the story I read a lot. ANYWAY. Favorite autobot is Rung, obviously. Who do you think I am. Lovable psychiatrist who gets forgotten about a lot despite being these bots’ psychiatrist for like 6 centuries (RED ALERT). Anyway. And he has a ✨✨Dark Secret✨✨. Which is. The fact he is LITERALLY GOD. But it’s ok because he didn’t know it either. aND THEN HE DIES AND HIS FINAL WISH IS DON’T FORGET ME AND GUESS WHAT EVERYONE D- [gets shot]

Rung makes me ill.

First Aid is a close second. He also makes me ill. Lengthwise…… (<- obscure reference)

Favorite Decepticon… Is really hard to decide because there are so many good options in MTMTE/LL. I’ll pick two for this one, since they’re part of opposing groups within the Decepticons anyway. Those two are Fulcrum and Kaon.

Fulcrum is part of the Scavengers, along with Krok, Crankcase, Spinister, Misfire, and Flywheels. Though he like instantly dies. Anyway. I think I just really like his design and personality, since there really isn’t any arc with this guy. He’s just silly.

And then there’s Kaon, who is part of the D.J.D. (Decepticon Justice Division. To those who don’t know them, they’re a group of Decepticons lead by Tarn who go around the galaxy killing Decepticons who went rogue, awol, or just strayed up betrayed the Decepticon clause. And they don’t just. Bam dead, they torture their victims, killing them slowly and brutally.) He turns into an electric chair and I mostly like him because of his design and he seems like the silliest of the D.J.D. having that attachment with The Pet n’ all. No character arc to ramble about. I just like him.

~~~~

Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy - Favorite Autobot is Easy Peasy! That would be Hot Shot for mostly the same reasons as Animated Bee and Prime Smokescreen. I see A lot of myself in him, and his character arc is absolutely amazing. Basically the same as Smokescreen’s, except he doesn’t witness someone almost die LMAO

There aren't any Decepticons in RBA, but I will say my favorite of the teacher was Blades, which leads me to my next iteration!

~~~~

Transformers: Rescue Bots - Keep in mind, I'm still in the middle of watching this one, so I'm only up to season 2 episode... 4 or 5, I can't remember. Anyway. Favorite Autobot is Blades, as previously mentioned. He's just so silly, and I adore the fact he's such a huge Bumblebee fan. I love the idea of him, a helicopter, being scared of heights. Me too buddy, me too.

Again RB does not have any decepticons as far as I'm aware, and I hardly remember any of the villains.

~~~~

And lastly, Transformers: Armada - Much like RBA, my favorite Autobot in this whole 4 season long series was Hot Shot. I don't remember his exact character arc since it's been a year since I started watching the show, but I do remember I liked it a lot. He was silly and goofy and, much like Smokescreen, matured over time. Oh, and also GODDAMNIT HIS VOICE. It's so soft and adorable and everything but when he yells oh BOY does he YELL. That shit gets GRAVELLY and HOARSE. Oh and also he's voiced by Brent fuckign Miller, the same dude who voices Zane in Ninjago, so... You can say I'm biased because Zane is my favorite ninja.

And as for favorite Decepticon, though he doesn't end up actually being a Decepticon but he is still an antagonist so I'm counting it anyway, is Sideways. And it's entirely because of his voice because I don't remember what he was like before season 4. IT'S SO FUCKING HOT PLEASE HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.

Also, he's voiced by the same guy who voices Sensei Wu also in Ninjago. Take that as you will.

~~~~

I LOVE RAMBLING!!! WOOOO. Anyway uuh. Here's a long answer to a simple question. Enjoy.

[filmydidii]

HIIIIIII I had a quick question for you! If you don't feel comfortable answering that's totally fine but I'd really appreciate you answering!

What exactly are your beliefs on this entire transphobic, trans, terms stuff? I'm just sorta wondering because I've seen your posts with other people and was sorta confused! If you could just clear it up for me that would be amazing!

Hi. Thanks for questioning in good faith.

My beliefs are that no one is entitled to their assigned sex at birth. They are only entitled to individual experiences.

Saying "I am afab" brings baggages of implications, such as "the world has been unfair to me" and "i struggle biologically (gestation, periods, etc)"

And that's pretty lame.

You see, there is this idea in all of us, that "male and female" are opposites. These ideas have been beaten into us since childhood. "Male is big, female is small. Female is nurturer, male is stoic" etc. "Male and female are opposites."

When someone says "I am afab," they are telling you to assume their life as the "average female life."

And here is my issue:

At my birth, A doctor looked at my genitals and said that I am male, which I am not!

When someone says they are "afab" (thus "female," emotional, understanding, quiet, nurturing etc) they are automatically saying "I WAS GIVEN THE FEMALE ROLE AT BIRTH. YOU WERE GIVEN THE MALE ROLE AT BIRTH." And so, I become "amab" (thus "male," stoic, violent, scrutinising, mansplaining etc)

But the main problem?

I am a woman. I am female. And I may be trans, but that doesnt make me any less female. I do not have male privilige; I have been physically and sexually assualted my entire life because I am a woman, and I have been silenced my entire life because I am a transgender woman.

If you believe that a trans woman being assigned the male gender matters, then you believe that she, somewhere, in some way, is male.

Cisgender men benefit the most in conservative environments where they are gladly ready to carry out the succesful male roles handed out to them. And women find it hard to speak in these environments.

But here is the thing.

Almost no transgender woman gets to adorn those successful male roles. We don't perform those roles.

We do not get male privilige because we don't perform those roles.

We get called faggots and sissies. We get our clothes pulled and we get groped. We get yelled at and we spend all that time confused, and wondering if we will ever be allowed any empathy. We learn to get by our lives as masculine women who are percieved as male. We get into unhealthy relationships. We disassociate and fall into deep depression. We can't take good opportunities because they all require you to be hand of the patriarchs.

I personally had become an extra wife of my single father, he would beat me and yell at me and make me do all the chores. He didn't talk to me either. (If you let your thoughts wander into the previous points, you will know the dynamic taking place here.) And, I had to literally do sex work in my boys only highschool to survive the hostility of the boys.

—

In queer environments, queer people take refuge from the patriarchy and cisheteronormative judgement; The patriarchy is bad, the patriarchs are priviliged, and so they do not get to speak.

When you say "I am afab" you are putting fake privilige on the transgender woman. You are calling her "amab." You are saying that she is priviliged, and thus, does not deserve to speak.

Trans women can't speak in queer environments, and can't benefit from male privilige either. We learn to stay put and learn our places as doormats. And no one saves us.

This, is called Transmisogyny.

—

Also, as someone who is intersex, I want to make another important point:

Your AGAB does not define your life, your genitals, your body type or the rest of your life.

I was assigned male at birth without any confusion, but it turns out I have ovarian and uterine tissue in me, and that I might have XX chromosomes.

Alot of intersex people are assigned a different gender, without their consent, later in life.

And sex is social. And a spectrum.

Stop spreading misinformation, everyone.

Respect trans women and intersex people a little bit more.

[asteria7fics]

SNOW DAY LETS GOOOOOOO

Who else is playing???

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out there's a big craft guild organization thing only a few hours from where I live (I saw an ad for their craft fair), and I got like half my holiday shopping done on their website, and the box arrived today! The thing I was most excited to see in person is fragile, though, and it's really well wrapped in bubble wrap and I don't want it to break when I mail it to the friend it's for, so I am not unwrapping it, but oh man the temptation is there lol I also got myself a little metal bug made of a bottle cap and some wire. It lives on my little corkboard where I put postcards and thank you cards now

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Sometimes I try to write down thoughts about this campaign but I admittedly have not been paying enough attention to feel confident in my character analysis so I write an incoherent text post and then delete it because I don't know if I'm actually making the correct judgments.