#so naturally someone else has to be making them

[sterpernie]

Probably no one will read this, but I hope someone will. To my fellow Americans, it is absolutely fair to cut people off for beliefs you disagree with and may one day lead to you suffering harm, but if you have someone you love with these beliefs that you are thinking about cutting out of your life, please consider a few things first.

1. We are living in echo chambers, repeating our beliefs back at us. If we don't interact with people who believe differently, how are they ever going to hear a different perspective that is not completely twisted by the media they consume?

2. They often don't understand what they are asking for. There is a sizeable minority (1/3 of Americans per the NYT) that do not know Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act (ACA) are the same thing. They want to repeal Obamacare but keep the ACA. People want tariffs not realizing that they aren't the same as sanctions. They don't realize that China is not going to be paying the tariffs, they will. China is not going to eat the costs of the taxes (tariffs) levied against them for exporting to the US, China will just raise the prices of their goods and probably levy tariffs against US exports to China in retaliation like they did during Trump's last term, resulting in everything getting more expensive. It it pretty striking to look at the education demographics of who voted what party.

3. They don't get the whole story. There was an immigration bill that would give the Republicans basically everything they wanted in regard to the border. Trump killed it because he wanted immigration to remain an issue for him to run on. My dad, who listens exclusively to right wing media, heard nothing about it. He was shocked it didn't pass when he was told. When he hears about Palestinians, he only hears about them referred to as terrorists and Hamas, attacking Israel unprovoked. He has never heard about the Nakbas or about how terrible the conditions were in Gaza even prior to October 7th.

4. A scary amount of Americans have no damn clue how the US government works. They think, abortion protections were repealed under democrats, so it's their fault despite the extensive groundwork laid by Republicans ever since Roe v Wade was initially decided in the 1970s culminating in a Republican supermajority on the Supreme court that actually overturned the ruling. They think, why am I paying taxes to forgive someone else's student debt when I didn't go to college/payed off my college loans/worked my butt off for scholarships/made sacrifices so I could afford college/etc, not realizing that the debt forgiveness is really just making sure the programs that were already in place are actually implemented instead of allowing the loan servicers to continue milking these people for cash long after their debt should have been forgiven. They think the economy and how good/bad it's doing is solely up to the President despite the fact that the purse strings are held by Congress and the Federal Reserve, which controls interest rates, is an independent body not controlled by the President.

5. For the immigrants, they don't realize that all immigrants are persona non grata, not just people who came to the US illegally. My immigrant mother told me she votes for Trump because he's "gonna stop all the immigrants who are coming to take our jobs", not realizing that despite her naturalized citizenship, she will always be seen as one of those immigrants she talks about. She doesn't realize when he talks about chain migration, he's talking about the system she took advantage of to bring multiple members of her family to the US and allowed them much better quality of life than the relatives still in her home country. She thinks, because she lives in a large urban coastal area, that all parts of the US are just as accepting.

If you have a loved one with whom your only problem is politics (not abuse of any kind, but someone you love and care for), please consider staying in their lives. I am not saying make friends with people to try and change their beliefs, I am saying give your loved one a face to put to the "radical libs".

when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.

[fatimabb]

best friend atsumu! naturally feels protective of you, but when his feelings deepen, this protectiveness turns more intense. He’ll walk on the side closest to the street, stand closer than necessary when someone unfamiliar is around, and always check in after you’ve had a bad day. If anyone tries to hurt you emotionally or physically, his expression shifts to something darker, a silent warning that he won’t tolerate anyone mistreating you.

best friend atsumu! will always be in contact with your body. his touches linger a little longer than they should. A hand on your shoulder stays just a few seconds more, his fingers brush against yours “accidentally” when he hands you something, and his hugs feel warmer and more intimate. He’ll make excuses like “Just making sure you’re real” to cover up how much he actually wants to stay close.

best friend atsumu! teases you constantly, knowing exactly how to get under your skin in the most endearing way. But he’s also incredibly quick to switch gears and say something sweet to make you smile. His teasing is often his way of masking how much he actually cares, and he finds himself laughing along with you, addicted to the sound of your happiness.

best friend atsumu! always seems to know exactly what you need, sometimes even before you do. If you’re stressed, he’ll show up with your favorite food, saying, “I was just in the area.” If you’re upset, he’ll sit with you quietly until you’re ready to talk, never pushing you to open up but always ready to listen when you do. His way of caring is subtle, always making sure you’re comfortable and happy, even if he’s sacrificing his own time or energy.

best friend atsumu! finds himself staring at you without realizing it, studying your face when you’re lost in thought or laughing with friends. His gaze is soft, filled with something more profound than simple friendship, and he sometimes gets lost in how much he feels for you. When you catch him looking, he’ll just smile and shrug, playing it off casually, but inside, his heart is racing.

best friend atsumu! has memorized all the little things that make you, you. He knows your favorite way to drink your coffee, the songs you hum when you’re happy, and the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking. He even remembers your birthmark on your right shoulder, and sometimes he’ll surprise you by mentioning them. “Oh, I figured you’d like this; it’s just your style,” he’ll say with a grin, secretly pleased that he knows you so well.

best friend atsumu! gets a little possessive whenever he sees you getting close to someone else. If you mention someone who’s been paying attention to you, he’ll go quiet or change the subject, his jaw tensing just a bit. He tries to play it off as indifference, but anyone who knows him can see the flash of jealousy in his eyes. If anyone actually flirts with you in front of him, his responses become just a little sharper, as if he’s subtly marking his territory.

best friend atsumu! is the first person you think to call when things go wrong, and he makes sure it stays that way. If you’re ever upset, he’ll drop everything to be there, giving you a space to vent, cry, or just sit in silence without judgment. He loves knowing that you feel safe with him and would do anything to keep that trust, secretly hoping you see him as someone irreplaceable.

best friend atsumu! compliments you in ways that sound like he’s joking or teasing. “You know, if I weren’t me, I’d probably have a huge crush on you,” he’ll say with a smirk, but there’s always a trace of sincerity in his voice. He’ll drop little hints like that, wondering if you’ll ever pick up on them, and his eyes always linger on your reaction, searching for signs that you might feel the same way.

best friend atsumu! would never abandon you, no matter what. He’ll stand by you in every high and low, never hesitating to defend you or support you. Whether you need someone to help you study, move apartments, or just listen to you ramble, he’s there without question. It’s his way of showing how much he values you, hoping one day you might realize that his loyalty isn’t just because you’re his best friend but because you’re the person he wants to be with.

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

THE 2019 SEASON

Melbourne, Australia, 2019

I was nervous, I knew you shouldn't be, but I was.

The sun was shining bright down at the Melbourne Circuit, you could hear the delighted conversations from fans just outside of the motorhome. Everyone was excited for the upcoming season of Formula 1, with new drivers and grid line up changes. And I was one of the new faces at the paddock, although not a driver.

I’ve been no stranger to this whole life at the paddock and following Formula 1. I grew up with it as I’d follow my father around since the moment i learned how to walk.

Jenson Button, former Formula 1 driver and world champion. I carried my last name with pride, I love my dad more than anything in the world, but the moment I showed genuine interest in the motorsport world people started to talk.

So now, I can't help but wonder, what is everyone going to say the minute you walk into the paddock as not a guest, but as a McLaren intern.

Sure, I will be the first to admit that having the Button last name did help I get this internship, but I conclude the training to be here on your effort, with my intelligence, my studies and everything I prepared myself for.

I knew working at the PR department didn't come easy in the motorsport world, I not only had to deal with PR, reporters, FIA, and the drivers, but you had to understand the dynamic of the sport, of the car, and everything else in case I needed to step up to give a statement on behalf of a driver or the team.

I spent countless days, in 2018, going over the FIA regulations, learning about the cars, all while taking classes in UNI and juggling the McLaren PR training.

Someone called out my name in a soothing manner. I lifted your head, meeting Sophie's smile. Behind her there were two men, one standing tall and proud and the other a bit more awkwardly. I knew very well who they were as I will be working close to them.

"Hi, Sophie." I smile at her "Would you like to join me for coffee?"

She nods, taking a sit across from me and gesturing the two men to do the same.

"I wanted to introduce you three properly since you'll be working close together." She says "These are our 2019 drivers, Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris. This is Y/n, she is our new PR intern."

I smile at both of them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

Carlos smiles “Likewise, I hope we get along well, the three newbies of McLaren.”

I laugh at his little joke and Lando follows suit with his own laughter that is a bit too contagious.

He seems a bit shy, maybe it’s because it’s his first season in Formula 1 and he feels like he has a lot to prove. In a sense I relate to him. We’re both here to show we’re good and deserve to be here.

And without even speaking for more than 5 minutes with him, I can already feel that we’re going to be friends soon enough.

Xangai, China, 2019

I have my back turned to the door of McLaren hospitality as I fumble with the coffee machine. It’s very early in the morning on Friday, a few hours away from the start of free practice. I am feeling exhausted from the long flight from England to China and the different time zones.

“It seems like the coffee machine is winning the fight.” A voice cut through the silence of the hospitality.

I turn around to find Lando standing beside me with a smile on his face, showing his dimples and amusement.

“I can’t get it to make coffee, I think it’s broken.” I complain with a huff

“Did you turn it on?” He asks me amused

“What?”

“Did you turn on the machine?”

“Of course I…” He reaches his arm across from me, pushing a button and the coffee machine beeps before finally brewing my coffee. I feel my cheeks go warm in embarrassment “Sorry, I’m uh still half asleep.”

He giggles, that infectious laugh of his that I always find myself smiling and giggling along whenever I hear it. If there is one thing I have already learned from Lando, it's that it’s nearly impossible to be serious around him. He carries this natural good natured aura, and he’s funny and likes to make jokes and see the good side of things. And whenever I’m around him I find myself a giggling mess.

We grab our cups of coffee and take a seat at one of the comfortable arm chairs at the corner of the room.

“You look tired.” Lando points out, sipping his coffee.

“I’m jet lagged, and I had a paper to turn in for uni so I stayed up until late and I only got a few hours of sleep on the plane because I had to review the questions for yesterday’s press conference.” I tell him, basically chugging down my coffee “Do you think I’d get fired if I drank Red Bull?”

He shakes his head.

“You should get some sleep during FP1.” He tells me

I sigh “Yeah, but it’s not really worth the drive back to the hotel, I will probably only manage a twenty minute nap before I have to come back here.”

“You can nap in my driver's room.” He offers, a friendly smile on his face

“Oh, no, I can’t accept it.” I shake my head “Thank you, thought.”

Lando smiles, leaning over the armrest of his seat to get closer to me.

“I insist. You need sleep to be on top of your game. Come on.” He stands up offering his hand. I eye it for a moment before accepting it. He pulls me up to my feet.

He guides me through the corridors of the hospitality until we reach his driver’s room. He opens the door and I’m a bit surprised at how neat it looks. I half expected it to be a mess of clothes.

“Here, you can sleep on the couch, it isn’t much but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you.” I smile, sitting on the couch and taking off my shoes.

I get into a comfortable position, curling up on the couch and instantly closing my eyes. I feel something soft covering me and I open my eyes a bit confused.

“I don’t have a blanket.” Lando says, his cheeks turning red. “So I uh… covered you with my jacket.”

I feel my chest grow warm at his sweet gesture. I smile at him.

“Thank you, Lando.”

He smiles back at me, and at that moment, I think is when I started to have a crush on him.

Barcelona, Spain, 2019

I should have expected Spain to be a bit insane considering the fact that I work with a Spanish driver. The minute I stepped out of the car with Carlos following behind me, the fans started to scream and throw themselves at us.

I’m not unfamiliar with the whole passionate fans wanting pictures and autographs, but since I used be a toddler or a child, they at least head the decency to not push and pull at my dad because I was clinging to him.

But now I am an adult, and they don’t care about those things anymore and I had never been mobbed by fans before without having my dad or my uncles by my side.

The fans screamed at Carlos who was doing his best to attend each and every single one of them. And things only got worse when Lando arrived and they suddenly wanted pictures of the best new funny duo of the grid.

They pulled at me, shoving pictures on my face to get them to sign since I worked with them, and they yelled questions about what it was like to work with the both young drivers.

I tried to step away, get away from them fans, but I was stuck in between the mass of people and to make matters worse they managed to separate me from Carlos and Lando who were looking at me concerned over the chaos.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck is going on?” A harsh loud voice cut through the yell of fans “Stop pulling at her! Get your hands off of her!”

Suddenly a tall blonde man dressed in red was pushing the fans away from me, shielding me with his body as he yelled.

I cling to the back of Sebastian's Ferrari shirt, telling like a little girl again, but completely relieved that he was there with me with his familiar force of comfort he always knew how to bring me.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, gluing me to his side and I knew if I wasn’t 20 years old anymore he would have picked me up and carried me like a toddler out of this mess. He glared at everyone who tried to get in our way and stirred me inside the paddock.

“Prinzessi.” Sebastian called me the same nickname from when he first met me as a newborn “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head “No, I’m… I’m fine.” I say, but my voice is shaky and he can tell that I’m holding back tears.

He places his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me with intense concerned eyes as he scans my body to look for any injury.

“What the hell is wrong with you both?” Sebastian yells the minute Lando and Carlos finally catch up to us “They were eating her alive!”

They look sheepish and terrified of being scolded by the German who looks lived with anger.

“She’s your PR assistant, but you’re supposed to keep your fans in check to keep her safe!” Sebastian continues with the harsh tone “She could have gotten hurt! They were touching her and shoving her! That was so reckless from the both of you!”

They nod, stiffly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vettel.” Lando says, eyes wide “I promise this will never happen again. I’ll- I’ll make sure she is safe at all times from now own. I- I swear!”

Sebastian doesn’t correct him on the Mr. Vettel name calling, he nods still with a glare.

“Come on, prinzessin.” He says in a much more soft tone, his arm resting against my shoulder in a protective parental manner “Let’s get you to Ferrari, uh? I will get you one of those chocolate pastries you love so much.”

With one final glare Sebastian takes me away from them. The McLaren drivers share a confused look as they watch me walk away.

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 2019

The Monaco Grand Prix is always a big event. Lots of celebrities and former drivers gather in the city to watch the historical race, and that’s how I find myself sitting at the McLaren hospitality chatting away with uncle Nico while my dad gets us drinks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the race from Mercedes, uncle Nico?” I ask him, making my best innocent look that always got me away with things when I was younger and probably until this day when it comes to the drivers who watch me grow up.

“No, of course not.” Nico Rosberg shakes his head, a found and almost proud smile on his face “This is the first race I am watching this season in person and you’re officially a Formula 1 employee, I’m staying all weekend here with you at McLaren.”

I want to argue with him that I’m not technically a F1 employee as I’m just an intern, but he gives me a pointed look and I only nod.

“So, what is this that I hear about you and a rookie driver?”

I widen my eyes as I look at him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Nico laughs at me “Seb has told me that you’ve become inseparable from the rookie McLaren driver, Norris.”

I huff, I should have known uncle Sebastian would open his mouth and gossip about me to his retired friends.

As if being summoned, Lando walked into the McLaren hospitality, wearing his cap backwards and smiling big as always. Carlos is beside him as usual and they both make their way over once they spot me.

“Hola, pequenita.” Carlos greets me, ruffling my hair affectionately before spotting Nico sitting across for me and getting a bit embarrassed.

Lando stands beside me ready to make a joke when he notices Carlos’ expression and widening his eyes when he sees Nico as well.

“Hello, Nico.” Carlos greets him

“Carlos, always good to see you.” He smiles before turning to Lando “And you must be one of the 2019 rookies, Lando?”

Lando nods quickly “Yeah, yeah. That’s me, nice to meet you Mr. Rosberg.”

Nico’s smile widens as Lando addresses him as Mr. Rosberg, feeling pleased with himself. I shot him a warning glare.

“Please, join us.” He says, motioning for the boys to the empty seats.

Lando sits beside me as Carlos sits across from me, leaving one empty space at the head of the table.

Nico makes light conversation, asking mostly questions about Formula 1, but I could see the glint in his eyes every time he asked Lando something, who seemed incredibly shy at receiving attention from a World Champion.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get the drinks, I ran into some old friends.” My dad says walking to the table with a glass of my favorite refreshing drink to have in Monaco “There you go, sweetheart.”

I smile, accepting the drink “Thank you, dad.”

Lando and Carlos both choke on their saliva at the same time when they hear me call Jensen Button my dad.

“Ah, just the men I wanted to meet!” He exclaims “Carlos, Lando, you both have been doing such good jobs here at McLaren. My daughter talks a lot about you.”

I watch as they become flustered over the news. My dad smiles, taking a sit at the head of the table.

“I heard you both let her get swamped by a mob of fans?” He asks with a smile, but I can see the hard look in his eyes.

“Dad!” I scold him “Uncle Seb already gave them a hard time!”

My father chuckles, soon being followed by Nico. Carlos and Lando’s eyes are wide and they look terrified.

“I know, I know.” My dad lifts his hands in surrender “I’m just messing with them. But I still have eyes and ears on the paddock so…”

“Dad!” I scold him once more.

He laughs again and finally switch subjects, talking about the new grid line up of this year and asking questions to Lando and Carlos who seem to become a bit more comfortable at the presence of Jenson Button and Nico Rosberg.

Hockenheim, Germany, 2019

Lando was in a bad mood, I could tell it from far away. He was moving frantically around the garage and he had a scowl on his face.

The past five races have been of ups and downs from him, he had two DNF, one race out of top ten because he got p11 and two races where he scored points. But he was pissed off still from his p11 on his home race in England.

It also didn’t help that the reporter he got placed with decided to improvise some questions that wasn’t pre approved and it made Lando uncomfortable with the way he was pressing on the matter of him doing a bad job at his home race.

And then, to make matters worse, he DNFed again today.

“Lando.” I say his name in a soft tone

He whips his head quickly towards me, a deep frown on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I say, I place a hand on his forearm, squeezing it in reassurance “It’s raining terribly today, everyone is spinning.”

He huffs annoyed.

“I should be good at racing in the rain.” He complains.

“How many times have you raced in this circuit?” I ask him, calmly.

“Well- this was the first time, but…”

I cut him off “And how many times have you raced in the rain in a Formula 1 car?”

Lando blinks at me as he answers “This was also the first time.”

I nod, my thumb rubbing sof circles on his forearm.

“And how do you expect to be good at something you’re doing for the first time?”

He looks away from me, and I can tell he is staring to consider my words.

“Valtteri has been doing this for a long time and he also crashed.” I tell him.

That get him to look at me again, his frown turning into something a bit more hopeful.

“Bottas didn’t finish the race?”

I shake my head “No, he didn’t. Even the experienced ones are having a hard time out there. This is only your first race in the rain, Lando.”

He sighs, and slowly he nods his head. He shifts his arm, making my hand slide down and towards his. His hand is much bigger than mine and it’s warm despite the cold weather from the rain. He squeezes my hand.

“Thank you. I just-…”

I smile at him, squeezing his hand back.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

And for the first time since he DNFed, I saw Lando’s dimples as he smiled at me.

Marina Bay, Singapore, 2019

Singapore has always been a hard circuit. The warmth and humidity did no good for the drivers to be racing for long periods of time. Still, it’s one of my favorite circuits because I find it beautiful to watch the race at night.

I’m watching from the McLaren garage, this time considering the hot weather conditions, they allowed the PR team to wear lighter clothes, so I’m in a simple dress, standing close to the AC and sipping water every few minutes.

I wince when I watch Carlos spin and crash into the barrier. The garage grows quiet for a minute.

“He’s ok!” His race engineer announces and we all finally breath normally again

A few moments later Carlos enters the garage with an annoyed look on his face. He places his helmet on one of the shelves and go to speak to his team.

I keep my eyes trained on the screen to watch Lando’s progress while I look for the schedule of reporters who want a world with Carlos after his DNF.

I accept the request of two journalists and move over to where Carlos is.

“Hey… you ready for some interviews?” I ask, eyeing him

He clenched his jaw before nodding and following me out of the garage and onto the media pan.

I give out instructions to him on the way there and step back when he positions himself to give the interviews. I watch intensely, jotting out necessary information on my iPad and ready to intervene at any given moment, but despite the bad situation, the interviews go smoothly and soon enough we’re back at the garage.

Carlos excuses himself to go shower and change clothes, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

In a blur of moments I watch as uncle Seb wins the Singapore Grand Prix, a proud smile on my face. Lando finishes in p7 which is great since he’s on the pointing zone.

“Congratulations, Lando. You did a really good job today!” I tell him

His smile grows bigger “Thank you, thank you!”

Even though he’s happy, I can notice the tiredness ok his face. He’s completely drenched in swest and I can see the slightly tremor of his hands, probably about to begin an hypoglycemic episode without even realizing.

“Hey, why don’t you take a sit?” I say, gently grabbing both his arms and walking him to a chair. I move quickly as I push my water bottle into his hands and search for a snack “Here.”

Lando looks at me a bit confused, but obliged.

“Oh.. wow.” He chuckles “How did you even know how to do this? I didn’t even realize I was feeling weak.”

I smile, my hand twitches at my side as I feel the want to run my fingers over his curls.

“I’ve been on the watching side of this sport since I learned how to walk. I learned a thing or two.”

He nods, still munching on the chocolate protein bar I gave him.

“Yeah… I uh sometimes forget you’re the Jenson Button’s daughter.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Lando tilts his head to the side, confused, but doesn’t say anything and I’m grateful for that.

Austin, United States, 2019

The season is coming to an end, thankfully. All the traveling, working and university studying at the same time has been taking a toll on me. It is too much, and I could see it every time I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. The circles staring back at me.

My body was sore, my throat scratchy and my head hurt. I knew the flu was making it’s way to dominate my body.

Still, I put on makeup to cover up my sickness face and went to the paddock for media day.

“Buenos dias!” Carlos greeted me once I entered the van and sat across from him and beside Lando who was bouncing with energy on the seat

“Good morning.” I say, cringing a little at the way my voice sounded

Lando frowned, pushing his face close to mine to examine me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a low voice, his brows furrowing

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Still, he kept analyzing me. From the corner of my eyes I could see Carlos lips turn upwards in a smile he hid behind his phone as he scrolled through it.

Lando said my name slowly, softly.

“You look sick.”

I pout slightly as I say “Geez, thank you for saying I look terrible.”

He huffs, clearly not finding my attempt to brush it off as funny as I did. He lifted his hand up before placing it on my forehead.

“You’re hot.”

“Oh, so now I’m…”

“Stop trying to deflect it.” Lando cuts me off before I can make another joke. “You’re sick. Why didn’t you say anything? You should be in bed resting.”

I shake my head, getting away from his hand.

“I’m not sick. I’m great. I’m just jet lagged and a bit tired, nothing some coffee won’t fix.”

Lando frowns and it takes me by surprise to see the irritated look on his face directed at me. Sure, I’ve seen him mad before when the race doesn’t go the way expected or when the media gets too much, but never aimed at me.

“I’ve seen you jet lagged and tired before and this is not it.”

I say his name in a sigh and he says my name in a warning. We stared at each other for what feels like forever, before Carlos giggles at us and says we arrived at the paddock.

The minute I get out of the van I start to quickly walk inside the paddock, scanning my pass, knowing the guys will stop to talk to the fans and I will be free of Lando’s questioning. I start to make my way to the McLaren hospitality when I feel a large hand land on my shoulder.

I flinch in surprise, whipping my head around and finding Lando beside me, still frowning.

“Lando.” I try to sound stern as I say his name, but it gets mixed up with a cough I try to hold in.

That only makes his frown deepen. He starts to drag me somewhere.

“You’re going to the medic center now.” He says, stern.

I complain and try to stand still, but he is taller, bigger and much stronger than me so he basically drags me.

I can see some people turning around to look at us, but I keep telling him to let go.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sebastian shows up in front of us, hands on his waist and I know that behind his sunglasses he is glaring at Lando. “What is going on here?”

“She’s sick and she’s being stubborn about it.” Lando says, still holding onto my shoulder “So I’m taking her to the medic center.”

Sebastian frowns, placing his sunglasses on top of his head as he takes a step closer to me.

“I’m not sick.” I say “Lando is being dramatic. Tell him to leave me alone.”

“She is sick! She even has a fever!”

Sebastian looks between the two of us, but he knows me long enough to know I am lying. He places a hand on my forehead.

“Norris ir right, you do have a fever, prinzessin.”

“No I don’t.” I say stubbornly.

He arches an eyebrow, as if challenging me.

“Do you want me to carry you to the medic center like you’re still a tiny baby?” He asks and I shake my head quickly, knowing very well he isn’t bluffing “Then let Norris take you and follow everything the medics say.”

“But Sebby!” I whine.

“Prinzessin.” He gives me an unimpressed look “Go to the medic center with Norris, now. And I’m not asking, I am telling you to go.”

I huff with a pout, knowing I won’t win this argument so I let Lando take me to the medic center while Sebastian watches from the distant as the McLaren rookie fusses over me.

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2019

The paddock was busier than ever, so many people with so many big smiles and shouts of happiness.

It’s the last race of the season and it leaves a bittersweet feeling on my chest. On one hand I am extremely happy that the season is finally over and I will be able to go back to a somewhat normal routine, going to college everyday, normal sleep schedules, as normal as an university student sleep schedule can go, and staying at home for a bit.

But at the same time, I am upset about being away from Formula 1 for the time being. I got used to seeing Lando and Carlos everyday, they are already a big important part of my life. I like the thrill of being in a different place every other week, of learning new things and watching the races.

I’m sitting at the VIP lounge section at the rooftop, overlooking the paddock bustling with activities. I’m sipping an Italian soda while I soak in the last moments of the 2019 season.

I don’t say anything as Lando slips quietly on the seat beside me. He has dark sunglasses perched on the top of his nose and he’s wearing a black McLaren shirt. His thigh brushes my slightly to gather my attention.

I shift in my seat to look at him and he already has that dimple smile on his face.

“It’s been a long year, huh?” He says quietly

I nod, smiling softly at him.

“It has been… feels like it was yesterday that I meet you and Carlos on my first day at the paddock.”

He hums, reaching out for my glass of Italian soda and taking a sip without even asking for it. I don’t mind, it’s normal between us by now.

“How was your first year as a Formula 1 employee?” He asks

“Better than I expected to be honest.” I tell him, playing with the hem of my dress “I didn’t get bad words from people for being Jenson Button’s daughter.”

Lando nods, understanding what I’m hinting at.

“You’ve been doing a good job, I think you’ve proved yourself here.”

“No, I haven’t yet.” I tell him. “But what about you? How was your first year as a Formula 1 driver?”

His smile widens “It was insane. Sometimes still feels like I’m dreaming. I know the results I’ve been getting aren’t ideal yet, but being here… it’s great.” I can tell he’s happy by the way his eyes lit up “I got so luck to have a good teammate.”

I nod, he sure indeed found a friend in Carlos.

“And even luckier to have the most beautiful and incredible PR intern.”

My cheeks grow hot the minute my brain register and processes his words. I lift my eyes to look at him, his cheeks are also tinted pink and he was a sweet smile on his face.

We stare at each other for a moment, only gazing in each others eyes. I reach for his hand and he squeezes mine in his big one.

“Will you be here with me next year?” Lando asks in a soft tone.

“Yes.” I breath out “I’ll be here with you next year.”

[saikenakoego]

And I continue again with another OC ask thing that nobody but myself asked.

Because it's fun!

This time again with Sammy, the walking contradiction! A vampire hunter turned vampire against her will!

Because I love her--

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

1. Are you superstitious?

SM: That would mean putting my fate in the hands of someone or something else. No.

2. Would you be phased about walking under a ladder?

SM: No.

3. What would you do if a black cat crossed your path?

SM: ...Nothing? What does it matter?

4. How would you react if you broke a mirror?

SM: Depends on who it belonged to.

5. Do you avoid any certain number? If so, which ones? Why?

SM: Not a fan of 7... dunno why. It makes me mad.

6. What's your favorite cryptid?

SM: If there's any that doesn't mess with people, then that one. Otherwise, I hate all of 'em.

7. Would you ever go cryptid hunting? If so, why?

SM: ...You're asking me? The vampire hunter? Gee, I wonder why I do it?!

8. What do you think about ghosts?

SM: Depends on the type. Some are tragic, others not so much.

SM: Johnny knows more about this kind of stuff. I just do my job.

9. Have you ever seen a ghost?

SM: ...What're ya, a cop? Not telling.

10. Have you ever gone ghost hunting? If so, why?

SM: ...Yes, I have. Because it's kind of necessary for me-- us. Its annoying that I have to state that out loud, thought it'd be obvious.

11. What do you think about magic? Are you generally in favor or against it?

SM: Cheating. Dirty tricks for cowards that can't do anything by themselves. It corrupts the mind and leads you to become complacent. That's why THEY use it.

12. Do you know any magic? If so, is it a natural or learned skill?

SM: Even if I know it, that doesn't mean I'd use it. Or want to use it. Much rather put my trust in steel and silver.

13. What would you say would be your favorite use of magic?

SM: The only good use of magic is keeping it locked up.

14. Have you ever made a deal with a magical or supernatural entity?

SM: IT. WAS. NOT. A DEAL.

15. What form would your familiar take?

SM: A grenade. So I can blow it up alongside my target, and never see it again.

16. Have you ever traveled into the past, and so, what did you change?

SM: No. If only...

17. Have you ever traveled into the future, and if so, how was it like?

SM: No. The only future I have is in the grave, once this is all over.

18. Have you ever had a prophetic vision or dream, and if so, what was it like?

SM: None that I recall.

19. Have you ever had an astral projection or out of body experience?

SM: No. Johnny says he has though, and with how weird that kid is, its probably true.

20. Have you ever visited another plane of reality or existence, and if so, what was it like?

SM: No.

21. Have you ever attended a seance or used a ouija board? What happened?

SM: I think I did it once with my old friends. The details are... blurry, though.

22. Do you keep things like salt, garlic or silver on hand for defensive purposes?

SM: Salt is more Johnny's thing. Says it's spiritual protection or something. Can never go wrong with some silver, though. Punch a good hole into a bloodsucker with ease. The garlic thing though? Totally fake. If its not blood, they can't smell it.

23. Have you ever cleansed your surroundings with sage or holy water?

SM: Again, more Johnny's thing. I can't even stand the thought of holy water.

24. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? If so, why?

SM: I didn't believe Johnny at first, but then I saw them.

25. Do you believe in any conspiracy theories? And if so, which ones and why?

SM: When you're unaware of what's goin' on behind the curtain, it's easy to discard any theory as baloney. Take a peek, and you'll never doubt again.

26. What would you do if you came face to face with a rabid zombie?

SM: Same as I do with any bloodsucker. Fill it with silver, then tear it apart limb by limb. My only regret would be not being able to make it suffer more.

27. Would you allow a vampire into your home?

SM: My father did. Once.

28. Have you ever witnessed a werewolf transformation?

SM: Yeah. It was like watching vampirification take place in the span of a couple of seconds.

29. How likely is it that you would be charmed and fall prey to mermaids?

SM: Null. Flesheaters are the same as bloodsuckers. No mercy for either.

30. What supernatural creature would you most prefer to be?

SM: Anything else, but this.

you: me: me: here’s a weird oc ask meme involving various mysterious, supernatural, and paranormal subjects that you can fill out on your own or with the help of your followers 👽✌

(01) Is your OC superstitious? (02) Would your OC be phased about walking under a ladder? (03) What would your OC do if a black cat crossed their path? (04) How would your OC react if they broke a mirror? (05) Does your OC avoid any certain numbers? If so, which ones, and why?

(06) What is your OC’s favorite cryptid? (07) Would your OC ever go cryptid hunting? Why or why not? (08) What does your OC think about ghosts? (09) Has your OC ever seen a ghost? (10) Would your OC ever go ghost hunting? Why or why not?

(11) What does your OC think about magic? Is your OC generally for or against magic? (12) Does your OC know any magic? If so, is it a natural talent or a learned skill? (13) What would your OC say would be their favorite use for magic? (14) Has/would your OC ever made a deal with a magical or supernatural entity? (15) What form does/would your OC’s familiar take?

(16) Has your OC ever traveled into the past? If so, did they change anything? (17) Has your OC ever traveled into the future? If so, what was it like? (18) Has your OC ever had a prophetic vision or dream? If so, what did they see? (19) Has your OC ever had an out of body experience or astral projected? (20) Has your OC ever visited another plane of reality or existence? If so, was it by choice?

(21) Has your OC ever attended a seance or used a ouiji board? What happened? (22) Does your OC keep things like salt, garlic, or silver on hand for defensive purposes? (23) Has your OC ever cleansed their surroundings with things like sage or holy water? (24) Does your OC believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? Why or why not? (25) Does your OC believe any conspiracy theories? If so, which ones, and why?

(26) What would your OC do if they were face to face with a rabid zombie? (27) Would your OC allow a vampire into their home? (28) Has your OC ever witnessed a werewolf transformation? (29) How likely is it that your OC would be charmed by and fall prey to mermaids? (30) What supernatural creature would your OC most prefer to be?

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[murderofsomeone]

it's probably decently obvious that my main lemon demon design was created BEFORE seeing any fandom depictions (or even really that much official art past the logo) because of how violently he stands out in comparison to other designs. it's a little obvious that my inspiration was self-contained and it granted me a bit of creative freedom along with a completely different train of thought while designing him. his three eyes however is very much a relic of 2022 because I was designing a lot of demons with asymmetrical faces at the time and well, why not make another

anyway here's a comparison of him to my most recent lemon demon original design (where it's a bit more obvious I was influenced by somewhat of a fandom culture)

extra bonus rambling under the cut

my general design process has actually stayed relatively contained with a few exceptions like soft fuzzy man's color and weirdly neil himself. yeah sorry chat neil is the first guy that was highly influenced by someone else's design you can shoot me too if you'd like. but I legitimately believe he's the only real example because every other character that has a design remotely similar to someone else is likely due to us both following a similar source material (like my cabinet design being based off polybius) or there being only so many ways to interpret the design (gef the mongoose would've fallen into this category if it wasn't for the fact I made him Joker colors)

in general I tend to follow a mindset of how "weird" I can make a design or how much I can push a lyric/implement it into a design. I also like to twist around the convention and try new things. a good example of both of these apply to my doctor amnesia design.

really the main things going through my head were "well he didn't state HOW many eyes", chosing an eye color that often is overlooked in conventional beauty standards to elevate them and cause you to think, while leaning into the somewhat otherworldly nature she's depicted in by giving her blue skin, a color I associate with the song.

another fun thing I'll do is create a "design pipeline" where I'll take an attribute and run it through a list of connections before we end up in a place long past where we started or just combining a bunch of traits that could be interpreted that way, resulting in designs like this.

though wolfgang isn't my weirdest design, he definitely did not start where we ended off. I believe before the wizard of oz theming for clown circus was set in stone (a choice that has EVERYTHING to do with oz explodes and an element I'll explain later), he was some kinda mirror object head that had absolutely nothing to do with his current namesake. since I wasn't satisfied with that design, I kept a relative aspect of the personality and shapes and thus ended up creating a really interesting take on a character who is largely depicted as... well there's no really good way to say this, but Bad.

since I was working with a new fresh aspect I started by making him a wolf... and then connecting him to "there's a robot in my head". this kind of connected the dots to ultimately make him associated to the tin man, since no one was connected to that character for the wizard of oz element and it was up for grabs (this is also how he somehow got associated with toasters via connecting the previously mentioned song to "what's in the toaster", etc etc). these pipelines of connecting songs that aren't normally related, but making them Work in a believable way makes designs more interesting for me and gives them a bit more purpose and personality. I think this is what ultimately makes people get a bit lost on my interpretations considering they aren't super simple by just being about One Song, but by being about multiple that aren't originally related in the source material. just like how I connected dr amnesia to when he died, explaining a bit of her more mildly supernatural or off-putting elements by making the man in that song her father.

the final real design element that I focus on is the strange rule I follow in terms of how these characters are shaped. there's a massive sort of "alice in wonderland" theming going on in terms of how human/humanoid designs look in contrast to designs that look less and less human. their proportions become more cartoon and shaped, their sizes are affected etc etc all while the human/humanoid characters stay relatively normal next to each other with more believable design elements.

here's the horrid long strip of nearly 100 different character renders next to each other to get a general idea on what I'm talking about

the silhouettes of the human characters "pop" less because they're supposed to contrast to their nonhuman counterparts. which isn't something I normally do, but given the source idea of a sort of "wonderland", I think it works in this specific context.

in conclusion: I'm design autistic and like to use designing to try new things, which is why I fucked that lemon up. sorry about that chat

[baphometsss]

On Solas's romantic history

Okay. I know what the consensus is. That he’s way too smooth in Inquisition to be inexperienced but... (and I’m fully prepared to get shat on for this lmao don’t kill me)

When he kisses Lavellan, that doesn’t read to me like he’s super suave and seductive. It reads more like—endeared by them trying to run away after kissing him, then being so surprised by how good the kiss felt, that he grabs Lavellan, kisses them again, pulls back with a surprised look on his face, and then goes in for more. It’s touch-starved, desperate, hungry. It’s not really all that smooth because he’s literally bending them over backwards lmao like Solas can you chill maybe

He is very smooth when flirting with Lavellan, but he's also an absolute gobshite who's spent thousands of years sassing the hell out of wannabe gods so that's not a surprise. He's witty af and enjoys some back and forth.

Solas is a very lonely man. He keeps everyone at arm’s length because he’s seen what getting close to people can do to him. His biggest fear is dying alone, and he almost gives into that because it’s what he believes he deserves for all he’s done. His life has been so stressful for so long that he's almost totally unable to consider anything else but his battles. He even says explicitly that he's tired.

That doesn’t make me think of someone who was out there in Ancient Elvhenan sleeping around all those years. No doubt he considered it, but he likely didn't pursue much with anyone physical; he enjoyed spending as much time as possible in the Fade. (The banter with Blackwall doesn't count to me personally since Solas himself thinks the whole idea is preposterous, which speaks for itself really.) Especially after being a slave/servant to Mythal seems to have voided him of his agency for some time. Then he led a rebellion and fought for thousands of years against brutal tyrants. Any one of the people he was close to could’ve been trying to kill him. Lavellan, however, has no reason to do so, so he can flirt with them freely. In all that time, it seems as though the only people he allowed to get close to the real him were Felassan and Mythal. I don’t think he slept with either, because the relationship was familial. Felassan was also loyal to Mythal, but didn’t burn his vallaslin off. (Is this a right hand/left hand of the Divine parallel again? Two brothers and their mother? Idk, I need to think about that one). For creatures with bodies made from the blood of Titans, they don’t have blood families. They would’ve had to forge their own, which is what Solas did with Mythal and Felassan.

And then there’s his ‘it has been a long time’. Most have taken this to mean that it’s been a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, but given what we know now and that he spent thousands of years in the Fade while his body was in uthenera… I wonder if he’s actually saying-- ‘it has been a long time since I lived in a body’-- ie. ‘it has been a long time since I felt physical drives, a long time since I have felt so physically real’. To me, this makes a lot more sense than the ‘he’s thousands of years old he can’t possibly be a virgin/inexperienced’ take bc like... My friends. It probably didn’t feel like thousands of years to him bc he’s essentially always existed. Time is different for spirits. It’s not like he’s gonna go: ‘well I’m nearly 4000y/o, better lose my v-card’. Time is no object when you are a timeless being. Then, given the path his life took, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for him to be that experienced given how hard it is for him to trust.

I also personally headcanon him as heavily demisexual/demiromantic too. His true nature is so non-physical that the idea of him being very promiscuous or something just doesn’t fit his character. He needs a mental connection, to feel something, before sharing much of himself, or allowing himself the vulnerability intimacy brings, something he clearly feels with Lavellan based on how shaken up by it he is.

And it’s also canon that Solas has never been in love before meeting Lavellan. So. If he went however many millennia without falling in love, it’s also possible he went without intimacy for a long time too.

To be clear I’m not trying to say that this is the correct conclusion. My opinion has just changed a little since Veilguard (I used to think he was being smooth etc bc he's old af/v experienced, but with confirmation of former spirit Solas it’s changed my perspective somewhat)

Also:

‘Things have always been easier for me in the Fade’

‘I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams’ my man is shooketh guys SHOOKETH

[sherry-cleo-salvadore]

Well having slept on (kind of) this break up as a viewer and the aftermath of it - I found it in myself to finally word my feelings in a more positive/non-angry/non-petulant way, I wanted to share that message on this account for a sense of closure:

Thank you so much, Lou, for giving us such a complex and layered character even in such a short span. As someone who loves to read and watch movies/shows and one day wants to work in the entertainment industry as a writer, sometimes I get frustrated with how characters get written for only marketing purposes - 911 for me became one of those shows where the characters are not really boxed as black and white - they are human layered characters with positive and negative attributes with space for growth through experiences making them realistic and authentic. Tommy was one of those characters and to be able to see such a depth and potential in a character that at first was only in two flashback episodes and was then brought back as a love interest years later - some people find it abrupt but honestly the way it was written and the way it was portrayed by you on screen it felt just natural for the story not just as a love interest for Buck but as a character of his own, so much so that I was hoping to see writers dwell into a Tommy Begins kind of episode maybe. I am not even mad about break up, I understand getting anxiety and fear from relationships when one has been hurt in past relationships trust me I do, I have been that person who has broken up with people because my mind would jump into future conclusions of relationship failing and while I am not proud of that behaviour I felt so seen when on television even as a heterosexual woman and was really hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel for such character dynamic. So yes, seeing a complex and layered character say goodbye like Tommy say goodbye like that in fiction really stings as a human who uses fiction to believe in a happy ending. That being said - thank you so much for giving us Tommy, it really can be seen you put your heart and soul into the character and I really appreciate your approach to this character with such authenticity and sensitivity. I am not sure what the canon story's future is - hopefully we get to see Tommy return but until then, in my head Tommy has found someone with whom he can let down his guard and even when anxieties about the future strikes he is with a partner (Buck or someone else/romantic or platonic) who assures him that a relationship is worth fighting for and gives him space to heal at his own pace without giving up on him - someone who makes him believe that he is not alone and worth fighting for.

Thank you so much once again for Thomas Kinard, he is a character that matters to a lot of people and will never be forgotten 💕

(I have not edited it grammatically because I just needed to purge it out like it was my therapy exercise)

[jeonscatalyst]

Is it me or me or does Jimin feed ymnrs? Like what was that when Yoongi was having his op and he referred to himself as his tangerine? Or when he posed on the set of LC with a tangerine and had the cults ops foaming at the mouth? Or how every interview last year he was mentioned Yoongi and Yoongi him, or they were purposely paired together? What did Yoongi mean when he visited Jimin on set and said something about building there reputation? Or when Jimin signed Yoongis guitar littleJerry? Or the fan sign call where Yoongi gave the cult ops a new ship name? Or that weird show they both went on? The fact Jimin called Yoongi on the show? Why? There was so much?

Just wondering if it’s me?

Erhhhh anon, maybe because Jimin and yoongi are actually friends? And yes it is you.

Why would you view them mentioning each other and doing things together as them trying to feed shippers? Those are two friends who love and care about each other and evidently, spent a lot of time together in the solo era so why wouldn’t they talk about each other to their hearts’ content?

I’m sorry but the way some of you view life sometimes makes me think you don’t understand the concept of two people being friends. How does anything you have listed above point to an anyone feeding a ship? Also, how many times have the members coined unit names for themselves? Vope, Taekook, Jungji, Jijinjung, mini mini, sugacookie, Jiyoon etc? Where is the fire anon?

Jimin and Yoongi spent a lot of time together in the solo era so it is only natural that they would talk about each other a lot. Yoongi is someone Jimin has always looked up to and someone whom he respects a lot and we recently found out from Jimin that Yoongi played a very important role in him remaining in the group. Jimin is someone Yoongi has always favored and a donsaeng he admires and respects too. They are close, so there is absolutely nothing wrong in Jimin talking about Yoongi as much as he wants or doing things that could be associated to him. Jin got out of the military and mentioned Jk several times, even wore Jk’s merch shirt and took a picture with it, would you consider that as him feeding Jinkookers?

These boys are friends and bandmates before they are anything else so stop viewing every little things they do and say through a shipping lens. They don’t walk, talk and breathe shipping and they certainly don’t live their whole lives trying to please shippers.

[completeoveranalysis]

[7]

SO. I follow what the dialogue is putting down here, but I’m a little confused about some of the line attributions. 

We have the “But isn’t this something that you hold very dear?”, as if it was asked by The Adult Sakura (Lava Lamp’s Mother), but the speech bubble is pointing towards Cardcaptor Sakura. In which I’m not sure if they changed the speech bubble in editing or if the translation has worded something slightly off.

But! Going off what we can actually see, Cardcaptor Sakura is assuring her that the gift is ok - that she still has the cards with her even without the wand.

This might imply that she doesn’t need the wand to use the cards at this point in her timeline - which would follow her natural growth through CCS. If I’m remembering right the wands were always just an aid for her to activate the powers easier (at first someone else’s magic, then her own), so it makes sense that after several years she would have grown the ability to activate her magic more naturally and without relying on any intermediate devices. 

But USAGE aside, this also touches on one of my favourite little things about the cards - how Sakura treats them like people, and more importantly, like her friends. So, even if she ISN’T meant to be implying that she can use the cards without a wand (which she might be), she’s still saying that They Are With Her Regardless And That Is Still Good Enough For Her. Which I adore deeply. 

[animezinglife]

My Inquisitor's (Mira's) best friend is Dorian, even though she's also quite close with Varric and Josephine. Varric is more the type of friend who mentors her, but Dorian is that classic "bestie."

Mira connected with him quickly: her family wasn't happy about the fact she was magically gifted, and the sense of betrayal and abandonment she felt as a result of being sent to the Circle (and how it all played out) is something she carries with her still. While the nature of family disapproval is different, it was easy for them to bond over parents or guardians condemning unchangeable aspects of themselves that weren't considered "acceptable."

They complement each other well. Especially early on in Inquisition, Mira is guarded and reserved. She is warm towards others and treats them well, but keeps her walls up to protect herself when it comes to her own feelings. Dorian, obviously, is bolder and more outgoing. Dorian is fun, and she's drawn to that energy. She grew comfortable with him much faster than she did most others.

Mira is highly intuitive and picked up almost immediately that he was gay, but they still briefly exchanged some mild, flirty dialogue until she started to notice someone else a little too much. She knew it wouldn't go anywhere, and it was just a pleasant, occasional, harmless, and fun distraction between friends. He makes her smile and laugh (especially as time goes on), but I think she loves the combination of his bolder nature and the she can still have meaningful, serious conversations with him.

Mira loosens up over the course of Inquisition. She starts to trust more, to let her own hair down some, and realizes more than ever how no small moment should ever be taken for granted. She knows Dorian always has her back and she has his. She still thinks he's brave for being so unapologetically himself, but also striving to be the best possible version of himself.

Dorian picks up on quite a bit Mira isn't always initially willing to admit to herself. Sure, we're not talking about romance, but he picked up on the Cullen thing pretty quickly (and definitely picked up on Cullen's interest in her faster than she did). He also didn't outright say anything about it and played along, occasionally making vague, off-the-wall, teasing comments to her in private. That is, until the not-such-a-secret was out.

Dorian is the one who most effortlessly brings out Mira's lighter side, and he's the only one who didn't have to build much of a relationship with her in order to do it. His social confidence (outside of areas like the Game or mediation) rubs off on her and helps her fall more comfortably into the idea of not always having to fit an expectation.

no more romance. romance is canceled. tell me about your warden/hawke/inquisitor's best friend and any info you want to add about their dynamic 🖐

[scary-grace]

Off-Script (Act 2) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Act 1

Act 2

Tomura’s done stunts on at least four big-budget superhero movies by now, and the one thing he’s learned is that there’s always a lot to do – and at the same time, basically none of it is his job. He’s got a lot of downtime. Tomura counts the time he spends observing Dabi’s scenes as downtime, too, since Dabi’s a perfectionist who will do as many takes as a director will put up with. It takes Tomura a maximum of two takes to memorize what Dabi’s supposed to do, and after that, he’s free to do what he wants.

Nap, usually. Play a game on his phone if there’s WiFi, don’t burn through his data if there isn’t. Watch everything else that’s happening on-set, and since today was set aside from the beginning of the shoot to rehearse the second of the film’s three major battle scenes, there’s a lot for Tomura to look at.

He thought he was going to have to double Dabi for the fight scene, but because Quicksilver’s fighting Archangel rather than Psylocke, there’s no swordfighting involved. Dabi and Hawks got their fight choreography set early on, and it’s boring. Trade hits, banter, trade a few more hits, banter some more, drop a snippy one-liner, and flee the scene. Easy. More complex stuff is happening in the other battle groupings – Storm, played by Miruko, is fighting Cyclops, played by Bakugou, while Nightcrawler, played by a guy named Shirakumo who’s been around forever, zips around in the background. In Tomura’s opinion, having Quicksilver and Nightcrawler in the same movie is kind of pointless, but no one’s asking him.

Beast and Colossus are fighting. Tomura’s never bothered to learn their actual names, and he’s not planning on it today. The most interesting fight is the one that’s happening off to his right – a three and soon to be four-way brawl between Mystique, Jubilee, Phoenix, and Psylocke. It’s the most interesting, but also the most complicated. Aizawa hasn’t left you and the other three alone for more than five seconds since rehearsal started.

Tomura’s read the script, but the scene’s gone through some rewrites since then. The choreography hasn’t changed, though – there’s still an extended hand-to-hand exchange between Mystique and Psylocke, and it still ends with Psylocke getting thrown across the battlefield by Phoenix. Aizawa’s made you practice everything but the throw so far, probably in preparation for Midoriya’s sure-to-be-stupid plan to film everything in one take. According to Spinner, it’s getting to be sort of an obsession.

Not that Tomura can really blame him. He got a copy of the single-take fight scene he did with you and he’s watched it at least a few times a day ever since. It looks incredible, even though Tomura’s in it and Tomura knows he can’t act worth a damn. Even with half your face covered up for most of the scene, you’re acting enough to make up for him, and Tomura can’t get over how fluid and natural the exchanges look – like somebody choreographed them and the two of you practiced until it was flawless. No wonder Midoriya wants every fight to look like that.

But most fights never look like that, even with choreography, so everybody’s getting choregraphed within an inch of their lives. Tomura’s just glad he’s not involved.

“Hey, Shigaraki!” The voice belongs to Aizawa’s assistant or apprentice or whatever, who’s hurrying towards Tomura. “Aizawa wants you to come over. We’re going to practice the throw and we need someone to run the new girl through the basics.”

Tomura’s been avoiding you as much as possible. “Did she say she’s got it? If she said she’s got it, you don’t need me. You go over it with her.”

“This is a stunt. If it was Dabi’s scene, you’d be doing it,” Shinsou says. ‘We can’t afford a double for her. Just run her through the basics, and then you can go right back to doing fuck all.”

Tomura was already annoyed. Now it spills over. “Yeah, sure. Why not? I can do my job and yours and still spend the day doing fuck all while you run around in that stupid hat.”

Shinsou yanks the brim of his sunhat down, scowling, a second before he pitches a bottle of sunscreen at Tomura. “Put that shit on. FX will kill me if they have to edit out a sunburn.”

Tomura hates sunscreen, and he doesn’t give a shit if FX is mad at him. But he’s too experienced to make a mistake like that. Only newbies end up with sunburns on set. You’ve probably got one already. Tomura smears the sunscreen on as they walk, and Shinsou updates him on the proposed stunt. “It’s gonna be a launchpad, but it’s angled, so it’ll throw her backwards, not up in the air. Phoenix doesn’t have to be anywhere nearby, since she’s using tele-whatever –”

“Telekinesis.”

“Yeah, that. So it’s literally just going to be the fight, and then she steps back on the pad and gets launched. Easy.”

Tomura can do a stunt like that in his sleep, but you’re new. “How far is she supposed to get launched?”

“They’ll decide once they start filming. This is just to test it out.” Shinsou fumbles the slimy bottle of sunscreen when Tomura throws it back at him. “Come on. Dabi can play this shit off as eccentric, but you just look like an asshole.”

“I am an asshole,” Tomura says, only to realize that Shinsou’s stopped walking, and Tomura’s continued right into the middle of the scene. “Uh –”

“Thank you for sharing,” Aizawa says blandly. “Shigaraki, you’ve met –”

He says your name, and Tomura looks at you. You’re in the same set of practice clothes as everybody else, and your face is smudged with dirt and dust. And you’re not happy. “I can do it myself. You don’t need to bother Shigaraki.”

“You’re not bothering him. He was doing fuck all when I came over there,” Shinsou says. Him and his stupid hat. Fuck him. “Better safe than sorry.”

“The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go hang out somewhere with shade and air conditioning,” Ashido says. She’s wearing a few pieces of her Jubilee costume. Some actors like to. “Come on.”

Shade and air conditioning sounds nice. Tomura’s been out in the sun for three minutes and it’s already too hot. “Let’s get this over with,” he says to you. You nod. “Before you do any stunt, you need to check the equipment. Since you don’t know anything, I’ll do it for you.”

The crash pad you’re supposed to hit is lined up wrong. Tomura drags it into place, then crouches down to examine the launchpad itself. He knows who made this thing. “This had better not be a prototype, Hatsume.”

“It’s not! We already used it today for Kirishima’s student.” Hatsume has even more dirt on her face than you do, and she’s about ten times as hyped. “My precious baby works just fine.”

Even if the equipment’s been used before, Tomura’s not ready to sign off. He turns to you and finds you studying the launchpad yourself. “Hey, pay attention. I know you know how to fake hits. Have you ever done this before?”

“On wires,” you say. When? “Same principle, right?”

“No. Once they launch you off of this, your trajectory’s out of your control.” Tomura studies the distance between the launchpad and the crash pad. “Stay tensed up. You need to be in control of your body the entire time or you’re going to break something.”

You’re listening now. You nod. “This is still a movie and you want it to look believable, even if it’s stylized. Think about what you’re going to do with your arms and legs so you aren’t just flailing around,” Tomura continues. It’s weird to have you looking at him like this. Your eye contact was really intense during the duel, too. “Even if the throw gets out of hand, protect your head and neck. You can absorb a hit anywhere else, but land on either of those and it’s game over. Got it?”

“Got it.”

You’re still looking at him. Tomura racks his brain for something else to say. “If you’re in trouble and you can rotate, try to hit on your side instead of your back. That’s it.”

You nod. “Can you show me?”

“Huh?”

“I want to see what it’s supposed to look like before I try it,” you say. That’s – smart. Irritating as hell, because Tomura wasn’t planning on getting launched today, but smart. “Do you mind?”

“Yes,” Aizawa says. “The temperature is climbing and we’re on a tight schedule.”

“This will take fifteen seconds.” Tomura repositions the crash pad one more time, glances at you to make sure you’re watching as he steps onto the launchpad. You’re watching. It’s weird. “Count off. Three – two –”

Hatsume launches Tomura on one, as usual, and Tomura spends a split second being surprised at the force before he remembers that he’s supposed to be demonstrating. He chooses his arm positioning at random, rolls slightly in the air so he won’t strike the crash pad spine-first, and hits hard enough to wind himself. “I told you it worked,” Hatsume crows.

It works. Like being launched out of a cannon, sure, but it works. Tomura’s not going to hop up looking out of breath. He stays sprawled out for another few seconds, long enough for you to come over and offer him a hand up. You look a little worried. “Are you okay?”

“That was nothing,” Tomura says. He’s been doing stunts like that since he was a kid. He ignores your hand and gets up on his own. “Any questions?”

“What happens if it throws you harder than you expected?”

You’re observant. Tomura doesn’t like that very much. That plus the staring makes him feel like he’s under a microscope, and he’s way too experienced to get caught being caught off-guard. “Make sure you exhale when you hit. You won’t get as winded if you knock the wind out of yourself first.”

You nod. Tomura takes a closer look at him, wondering if you’re actually worried about him or just worried about stepping on Hatsume’s rocket launcher for yourself. Probably the latter. “Thanks for showing me,” you say. You’re standing close enough that Tomura can smell your sunscreen, which smells a lot nicer than whatever Shinsou threw at Tomura. “It helped a lot. And thanks for checking the equipment.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Tomura turns away to head back to his spot. He’s got fuck-all to do, so maybe he’ll nap, and maybe when he wakes up he’ll watch the fight scene again. Fighting you is a lot less awkward than talking to you, even if the fight ended with you pinning him to the ground.

“Tomura-kun!” Toga draws up alongside him. Like Ashido, she’s wearing part of her costume – the wig and facepaint for Mystique. “That was a nice throw. But you need to be nicer to the new girl. She’ll never go out with you if you keep being mean!”

“Why can’t you and Spinner drop it? I don’t want to go out with her.” There aren’t words for how much Tomura doesn’t want to think about this right now. Or ever. “Why do you even think that?”

“Why do you keep watching that fight scene?” Toga challenges. Shit. Tomura’s face heats up. “It’s because you have chemistry. I know all about chemistry. You’re mean to her when you aren’t mean to anybody else because you don’t want to have chemistry with anybody. I’ve never met a guy who hates being horny as much as you do.”

“I don’t hate being horny.” Tomura doesn’t even know where Toga dug that one out of. Then again, he’s known her since they both started working on the X-Men films, so she’s got ten years of Tomura’s bullshit to back herself up with. “What does that even mean?”

“You don’t want to like people because you think nobody will like you, but that isn’t true!” Toga pats Tomura’s arm. “But she’s not going to like you if you keep being mean to her. That’s not how you sweep a cute girl off her feet.”

Tomura’s got a lot of problems with that statement – mainly that he’s not being mean to you, that he doesn’t think you’re cute, and that he doesn’t want to sweep you anywhere, let alone off your feet. You don’t need him to do that when you’re doing your own stunts. And there’s something about the stunt that’s bothering Tomura, something that’s got nothing to do with the crush everyone’s pretending he has on you. The launchpad threw him hard. It must have thrown Kirishima pretty hard, too. Tomura’s not as tall as Kirishima, but both of them are taller and heavier than you. If Hatsume doesn’t recalibrate the launchpad, she’s going to throw you into the sun.

Tomura whips around and takes off back towards the practice site. Toga chases after him, but they’re both too late. Somebody’s already shouting, and Shinsou books it past Tomura in the opposite direction, already calling for a medic. Fuck. The others are crowded around you, and Tomura can’t see. He shoulders his way into the huddle and finds himself staring down at you.

You look sort of pale, and you’re smiling, but Tomura can tell it’s faked. Whoever taught you to smile through pain didn’t do a good job. Either that or you’re really hurt. You’re already trying to sit up. “Stay down,” Tomura snaps. He crouches down next to you, looks you over for obvious injuries, but you aren’t bleeding and nothing looks broken. “Where did you hit?”

“Just my shoulder. I’m fine.”

You don’t look fine. You look rattled as hell, and Tomura feels a sharp surge of guilt. He checked the equipment. He knew the throw was going to be hard, and if he hadn’t been so busy being pissed that you were looking at him while he talked to you, he’d have realized that what was a hard launch for him could actually throw you clear of the crash pad. In the bigger picture, this is Midoriya’s fault for not hiring a stuntwoman for you. Right here, right now, it’s on Tomura.

He hates feeling like this. “What happened?”

You don’t answer, but Uraraka, who plays Phoenix, fills in. What happened was exactly what Tomura could have predicted if he’d been paying attention instead of being stupid – you were thrown almost completely clear of the crash pad, and the only part of you that hit it was your shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt,” you insist, and you sit up, getting right in Tomura’s face. He can still smell your sunscreen. “It was just a shock. I’m good. Can we try it again?”

Ashido’s eyes widen. “Are you crazy? That thing almost threw you into orbit.”

“I’m calibrating it down,” Hatsume calls.

“She’s calibrating it down,” you say. “And now I know what it feels like, so I’ll do better.”

“Quit trying to be a hero,” Tomura says. “If you’re hurt –”

“I’m not hurt,” you say. Tomura realizes that short of pushing you back down in the dirt, he can’t stop you from getting up. He gets up first so he can offer his hand. Which you ignore. “I’m not bleeding, nothing’s broken, and I didn’t pass out. Let’s do it right this time.”

Aizawa’s phone buzzes, and he glances at it. “The medics are dealing with three cases of heatstroke. It’ll be a while.”

“Then I’ll go see them after we’re done here,” you say. “Come on. I thought we were on a schedule?”

Schedule is the magic word. It gets Aizawa’s attention, and everybody else still wants to get it over with and get out of the sun. Tomura sticks around to watch, or supervise – after what happened, he doesn’t trust anybody not to fuck things up. He sees Toga check in with you, and the others do the same. People like you. Sure, they like working with you, but based on the way they’re joking around with you, they like you for yourself, too. And they’re probably not the only ones.

Tomura’s stomach cramps at the thought, and his shit brain decides it’s a good time to think about the fight again. Thinking about it turns into watching it, as usual, only this time Tomura knows what your stupid sunscreen smells like. And just like every time he watches the fight, he’s caught off-guard by just how good the two of you are together. How easy you make an improvised fight scene look. Like you know each other’s moves by heart, even though you’d never met before, let alone watched each other fight. That’s chemistry. That’s why Tomura’s been waiting so impatiently for his next fight scene with you. He wants to feel like that again.

Toga was right. Unfortunately, Spinner was right, too, when he said Tomura looked into it. Tomura looks really into it. Tomura puts his phone away so he won’t have to look at his own stupid face any longer.

The second run-through of the four-way fight goes well, and nothing goes wrong with the launchpad, so Aizawa calls it good for the day. The actors scatter to their trailers or to the shuttle back into town with more urgency than usual. There’s some kind of producer party/press thing going on tonight, and all the big-name actors are supposed to go. Dabi included.

But Dabi’s back on his bullshit, of course. When Tomura goes to check on him, he’s lying facedown on the floor of his trailer with music playing in the background and a giant water bottle within easy reach. Water’s not the only clear liquid on the planet. Tomura pries open the water bottle and sniffs it. Just water. This time.

“You really think I’d chug water out of a Nalgene? Fuck off,” Dabi says from the floor. “Who did and made you my sponsor?”

“I’m not your sponsor. You asked me and Spinner to check in with you about this shit.” Tomura wasn’t crazy about being part of Dabi’s official sober support system, but he does spend more time with Dabi than almost anybody else who’s involved. “Are you going to that party tonight?”

“Sure, why not?” Dabi flops over to his back. He’s famous for looking bored whenever he’s not on camera, but this looks worse than usual. “Dress up in a stupid outfit and go watch my coworkers have fun drinking stuff I can’t drink and snorting stuff I’m not supposed to touch. It sounds like a great time.”

It sounds like shit, but that’s how Tomura feels about most parties. “I should make you go,” Dabi says. “If you got trashed you’d just puke in the bushes like a college girl instead of going batshit crazy in front of the paparazzi.”

He sits up to drink some water, then flops back down. “Too bad you don’t look more like me. I’d make you do all the stuff and I could go die in peace.”

The door to the trailer opens and Spinner comes in without asking first. “What are we talking about?”

“Me dying in peace.”

“Okay, are we seriously talking about that? Do I need to call somebody?” Spinner’s a lot better at this than Tomura is. “Or do you just not want to go to the party tonight?”

“Don’t call anybody,” Dabi growls. “If you were me, you wouldn’t want to go to a photo op, either.”

“Yeah, I guess this would be your first official one since the thing,” Spinner says. He sits down on the floor next to Dabi. Tomura leans back against the wall with his arms cross, idly tuning in to the music. “Want one of us to come with you?”

Tomura kicks him, glares when Spinner looks up, but Dabi’s already shooting the idea down. “No. My sister already gets DMed way too much RPF with you dipsticks in it.”

“Okay, then find somebody who’s going to be there who’s not a huge partier,” Spinner suggests. “Just glue yourself to them the whole night and do whatever they do.”

For a second Dabi looks like he might go for it. “They’re all partiers except the lame ones.”

Spinner punches Tomura in the leg. “What do you think, Shigaraki?”

“I don’t care about this,” Tomura says. Spinner punches him again, harder. “Just hang out with Hawks. He only gets wasted at the wrap parties.”

“No,” Dabi says at once. “Not him. I hate him.”

“So go hang out with him and you’ll hate him less,” Spinner says. Dabi groans. “Worst comes to worst, text us and we’ll come get you.”

“Like that’ll happen.” Dabi sits up for another swig of water, but doesn’t lay down again. “Get out. I have to find a ride.”

“Have fun,” Spinner says. Tomura’s out the door already, and Spinner catches up to him before he’s down the steps. “Was that water in there?”

“Yeah, I checked.”

“Good,” Spinner says. “Speaking of parties, though –”

He trails off like he’s expecting Tomura to fill in the blank. “What?” Tomura asks.

“Everybody who’s not at the producer thing is throwing one of our own. Tonight,” Spinner says. “And that means you should –”

“What?”

“Invite her to the party,” Spinner says. Tomura starts walking faster. “Seriously. She’s not a big enough star to get invited to the main one and she might not know ours is even happening. Go find her and ask.”

“No.”

“Do it.”

“No,” Tomura says. “Leave it alone.”

Spinner shakes his head. “Go ask her or I’m sending everybody that livestream where you played a dating sim and got shot down by all the characters.”

There was a while where Tomura wanted to be a streamer, but what little there is that’s engaging about him in person absolutely fails to translate live on camera. He had to resort to gimmicks to get views, and one of the gimmicks was playing easy games while getting drunk. Or at least Tomura thought they were easy games. Dating sims are harder than he thought they were, and once every single romanceable character had rejected him, he secured the achievement Turbo Virgin, won by the 0.06% of players who couldn’t pull even one fictional girl.

That would have been bad enough all on its own, but Tomura teared up during the last rejection cutscene, too. The fact that the stream still exists somewhere haunts Tomura daily. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help make your dream a reality,” Spinner says. “Go ask her to the party. The worst thing she can say is no.”

In theory, that’s true. In practice there are a lot of ways to say no, and Tomura thinks of all of them as he heads off in search of you. Of course you’re nowhere to be found. You might have caught the bus back to town already, or maybe you got invited to the actor party after all. The only thing Tomura has to work off of is you telling the others that you’d go see the medics after shooting wrapped for the day. He sticks his head in the medic tent and steps back out again in a hurry, his face going up in flames. You’re in there, all right. You’re sitting on a cot with your back to the door and your shirt in a heap next to you.

You’re just sitting there with your clothes off when anyone could walk in. What is wrong with you? Sure, there are plenty of actresses whose costumes are revealing as hell, and sure, half the women Tomura knows dress for a trip to the convenience store like they’re headed to the club, but you? Tomura didn’t think you were that type, and if you are – this is an even worse idea than he originally thought.

Tomura needs to get his shit together. Of course your shirt’s off. You hit your shoulder and the medics need to look at it. He’s pretty sure you’re wearing a bra, and even if you aren’t, you’re facing away from the door. He’s not going to see anything, and if he keeps this bullshit up, he’s going to earn a real-life Turbo Virgin achievement half a decade after he lost his virginity. Tomura steels himself and ducks back inside.

The medic’s talking to you. “I put the rib back in place and it should stay there, but no more launching stunts for the next day or two, all right? And I’m giving you one of these so you’ll sleep tonight – but don’t take it until after the party. It doesn’t play well with alcohol or anything else.”

“I’m not going to the party,” you say, reaching for your shirt. Tomura gets a good look at the bruise darkening across your shoulder blade and back before your shirt conceals it. “I’ll take that and go to bed early.”

“I meant the other party,” the medic says.

“There’s another party?”

Fuck. “Of course,” the medic says, surprised. “Hasn’t anyone – what are you doing here, Shigaraki? You should know better than to just barge in.”

The medics don’t like Tomura very much. He ignores her. “There’s another party,” he says to you, and you turn slowly to face him. “Everybody who’s not A-list goes to that one. I came to invite you, in case you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” you say.”

“Well, now you know,” the medic says briskly. “Remember what I said. Don’t mix that medication with anything.”

“I won’t.” You get up from the cot and brush past Tomura, stepping back into the sun. The smell of your sunscreen drifts over his face as he follows you out. “So there’s a party?”

“Yeah. We throw one whenever the A-listers call some over-the-top press conference a party.” Tomura falls into step next to you. “You dislocated a rib?”

“Only a little bit.”

“You can’t dislocate something a little bit. It’s dislocated or it’s not.” Tomura glances at you. “You should have made them wait on the second stunt. Keeping going after you get hurt makes you stupid, not tough.”

“Really?” You look up at him. “Where I come from, anything that’s not performance-impairing is something you can push through.”

“Right, because there’s no difference between a Broadway show and a superhero movie.”

“No, there’s a difference,” you say. “Broadway’s a lot hard than this.”

Tomura scoffs. “Nice try.”

“It is,” you say. “Six to eight weeks of all-day rehearsals, plus physical conditioning on the side, and after that it’s seven shows a week – the same thing, over and over again, for however long the show runs or however long you can take it.”

Huh. “The leads have it the toughest,” you continue, “but the ensemble’s made up of understudies, and there are multiple backups for each of the leading roles. You know, because the show must go on. In practice that means being responsible for ensemble work plus one or two entire roles – which you only get to perform if something happens to the person above you. It’s a house of cards, and if enough people fold the whole thing comes tumbling down.”

You stop walking, and so does Tomura. “So yeah, I’d say theatre and this aren’t comparable. I don’t know where we’re going.”

“I was following you,” Tomura says. You give him a frustrated look. “So you’re saying you’d do a whole show with a rib out of place.”

“I did a whole show throwing up in the bathroom every time I went offstage,” you say. Tomura blinks. “Your job’s a lot rougher than mine, though. Catastrophic injuries are kind of rare in theatre. It’s hard to break your neck falling off the stage.”

“It’s a lot easier to break it falling off a building.”

“You – what?” Your eyes widen with surprise – and worry. “How?”

“That one space movie – Venus Rising or something.” Tomura always pretends he doesn’t remember the title. You must know it, though. He sees your mouth twitch. “The villain falls off a building at the end of Act One and comes back as a crazy cyborg. I didn’t double-check my equipment, and my harness snapped right when it was supposed to catch me.”

Your mouth turns down at the corners, in the same moment as Tomura remembers why you wound up in the medic tent in the first place. He grits his teeth against the guilt. “I should have learned from that and checked yours better.”

“I should have known how to do it myself,” you say. “It wasn’t on you.”

Maybe it wouldn’t have been, if Tomura had only checked the device instead of trying it out. “I knew the launch was too hard. If I’d been thinking instead of –” thinking about you “– I would have told Hatsume to recalibrate it before it was your turn. I’m sorry.”

“It happens,” you say. “Nobody died, and now I know to ask about that stuff. It’s okay.”

Tomura wants to tell you that you’re being naïve, but before he can do that, you change the subject. “So, this party. What are crew parties usually like?”

“Like any party. Drinks, food. Games, sometimes.” Tomura thinks about it. “Music. Yamada, the composer – he has this DJ person he puts on. There might be karaoke. It’s not the worst.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” Tomura says. “You think I’d invite you to a party I’m not going to?”

“I didn’t think you’d invite me anywhere at all,” you say, and shrug. And wince. “I’ll see you there, okay?”

Is Tomura supposed to walk with you or something? Is that how this is supposed to work? “Just follow the music. I’ll see you there.”

Tomura watches you walk away, a disgusting knot of anticipation pulling tight in his stomach. He’s pretty sure he asked you out. He’s pretty sure you said yes. And he’s damn sure that whether you show up or not, whether he drinks too much or nothing at all, and whether he gets called to drag Dabi out of some easily-photographed situation he got himself into, he’s in for a really rough night.

[leighsartworks216]

Mutually Assured Destruction

Sylus x gn!Reader

I don't remember anymore how this idea came to me but I needed to write it. Makes references to other stories in the Raven series

Warnings: spicy but no smut, collars, leashes, muzzles, marking, ownership, master/pet, light bondage, halloween, slight swearing, established relationship

Word Count: 2,667

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You glare at the twins with a hardened fury that could scare any client of Sylus’s into pissing their pants and apologizing to you for the inconvenience. Unfortunately, this is Luke and Kieran. They don’t crumble under the stare. They laugh.

It’s stupid, you decide. Before, well, you were open to the idea. Miss Hunter needs “Skye” to make an appearance at a Halloween party thrown by her colleagues and friends, so it’s only natural he’d want to bring his partner along to join in on the fun. She didn’t argue against it, but she did warn about keeping you - hm, how did she put it again? Ah, yes, on a tight leash.

Why’d she have to say it in front of these chuckleheads?

The black collar is lined with spiked studs, connected to a long leather leash. Sure, fine, whatever. You even like the idea of wearing it, so long as the leash is in Sylus’s hand.

But a muzzle?

“Awe, c’mon! We don’t get to go, so you might as well let us have some fun with it!”

“We can run out and grab you a box of milk bones, if you’d like.”

Sylus wraps an arm around your shoulders and steers you away from the twins before you can successfully wrap the leash around their necks. “You’re dismissed,” he orders with a wave of his hand. He takes the muzzle from you, idly studying it.

You glare over your shoulder at Luke and Kieran, who snicker as they finally do as they’re told. The sound grates on your nerves until the door closes and shuts them out.

You shift out of his hold easily. He perches against his nice, expensive desk as he watches you pace back and forth, fiddling with the leather collar and leash in your hands. He sets the muzzle aside and crosses his arms.

“What are you thinking about?”

A lot of things, quite frankly. Your position as the fearsome guard dog of the great Onychinus leader, Miss Hunter and her little friends, the party, your costume, your increasingly complex feelings on being “owned” by someone…

You know Sylus doesn’t own you. You know, if ever you wished it, you could walk right out of here and go on into forever, and he would let you. It would hurt. But he wouldn’t hold you back.

Is it so wrong if you want him to…?

Your body has never been yours. As a kid, it belonged to the streets and the failed help programs of the city. As a teen, it belonged to your damned tormentor, the Devil. Even when you escaped as a young adult, you didn’t know enough about who you were anymore to hold any claim over yourself. You fought, you struggled, you became cleverer, and scarier. You became the Raven. And for the short time you’ve carried that name, you have learned to own yourself again. Even the ring on your pinky, that eternal promise mirrored on Sylus’s own hand, could not steal that from you.

Maybe it’s not quite ownership you want to give up, then.

You want to keep owning yourself, but you want him to, as well. You want to be that hopelessly loyal guard dog to him. You want to be obedient to his commands, and defiant in order to protect him. You want to tear out the throats of everyone who looks at him the wrong way. You want him to watch….

You want to be wanted.

And you are, aren’t you? He has never made it seem like he wants anything else but for you to be by his side. Not only that, how many times has he made it clear that he belongs to you? How many more times must he before it sinks in? Before you can grasp the fact that he wants to be your hopelessly loyal guard dog? That he wants to be obedient to your every command and defiant in order to protect you? He wants to tear out the throats of everyone who looks at you the wrong way, and he wants you to watch him do it.

He impedes your path, stopping you in your tracks and tilting your head up by your chin. He’s frowning. There’s a furrow between his brows. “What’s wrong?” he asks, more insistent than before.

Wrong? Is anything wrong here? The twins’ meddling in messing with you, maybe - but they weren’t exactly wrong. You are his dog on a leash, a dangerous animal that will bite if given the chance.

But… so is he.

You’re two wild, vicious animals. You’ve lashed out to save yourselves. Done horrific things in order to keep the weaker dogs from challenging you, and even worse things to those who dared to try. But you hold his leash, and he holds yours. You could so easily choke him with it. He could choke you with it. And yet, you are at peace - content in your mutually assured destruction.

“Sweetheart?”

You breathe in deeply. You hold the collar out to him, the leash loosely coiled and dangling from your fingers. He glances down at it, but his attention is focused solely on you.

“I want to wear it,” you say quietly. “But only if you’re the one putting it on.”

Something flickers in his eyes. The furrow in his brow is gone, replaced with silent understanding. He releases your chin. Long fingers wrap around the collar and leash, pressed between your palms as he holds your hand. “What about the muzzle?”

You grin slightly, playfully. It’s that same satisfied smirk you had back when he first met you. “I may need it around all those people, don’t you think?”

He chuckles. “If you behave, I’ll give you a treat after. How does that sound?”

He takes the collar. You can’t deny the thrill that runs through you as you watch him deftly undo the silver buckle. You stare up at him as he wraps the leather around your throat. He stares right back with a hungry look in his eyes as he slowly tightens it.

The leather is surprisingly soft. Not for a dog, that’s for sure. You’re almost grateful the twins regard you with enough respect to buy a collar made for humans. Almost. Not enough to let this whole incident slide unpunished. You think a little target practice to try shooting off the rings on their horns is a good warmup.

He tightens it a little more than necessary. You can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, or the soft sigh that escapes through your nose. You’re rewarded with the familiar press of lips to your own. “Good dog,” he hums teasingly. You hate how much you love it.

He loosens it back up, enough to sit comfortably without rubbing your neck raw. His face is still tauntingly close to yours. Every breath fans over you, daring you to close the gap.

But you don’t.

He draws back once the buckle is secured. The leash hangs down, long enough to reach your mid-calf. “I wonder if you know any tricks,” he muses with a smirk and that cocky head tilt he does. He nods over to his desk. “Sit.”

You narrow your eyes up at him, but you smile. It reminds you of the commands he usually uses to control you during negotiations, and just how you both came to the agreement of using them. And like the good little pet you are, you saunter over to the desk and pull yourself up to sit on it. Back straight, legs crossed at the ankle, hands in your lap. He loves it.

He follows, standing in front of you and picking up the muzzle from his desk. It’s a basket muzzle, shaped to fit a human’s face instead of a dog’s snout. Silver bars weave together in an imprisoning array. Two straps hang in loose circles, held together by silver buckles. Sylus deftly undoes them, while his eyes appreciate the line of the leash that trails down your body and disappears between your thighs.

Holding the basket with one hand, and a strap in the other, he reaches forward to place the muzzle on your face. You turn, dodging the contraption, to catch the meat of his thumb between your teeth. He chuckles. “Behave. Be a good dog, won’t you?”

You bite down slightly harder, enough to leave a mark without breaking skin, but don’t let go. He smirks, leaning down until he’s at eye-level with you. “Here I thought this pup was properly trained. Do I have to tame them myself?”

It’s intoxicating, the playful yet almost threatening lilt in his voice. If you didn’t have a party to go to for Miss Hunter’s sake, you would love to test the limits of your handler even further.

As it is, you do have a party to go to, and time is ticking away.

Your teeth release his flesh. Left behind is a pretty red mark with indents from your canines and incisors. You stare into his eyes as you slowly lick the mark. His eyes follow the swipe of your tongue, darkened with desire.

With no more protests, he affixes the straps around your head - one that goes over your ears and one that goes under. The metal cage over your nose and mouth is cushioned by a strip of soft leather. It’s restrictive, but it’s not uncomfortable. If you wanted to, you could speak… or bark, if you felt like it.

Sylus places a kiss over the metal wires with a devilish grin. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

His hand traces your jaw, fingertips dancing over the straps, to your neck. He idly brushes over the studs along the collar, trailing down the line to reach the D-ring at the front. It’s large enough that he could hook his finger in it, but why do that when there’s a perfectly good leash right there?

The metal clasp of the leash jingles lighty against the ring. You can hear the leather sliding between his fingers as he pulls it from between your thighs. It creaks as he wraps it around his hand. He tugs on it experimentally. You’re jolted forward. The collar is tighter against the back of your neck, straining toward the pull.

“I enjoy it, too,” he hums lowly, for your ears only. He keeps the tension on the line as he leans in to press soft kisses at the edge of the muzzle. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, falsified wariness shining back at him. They flutter shut as he smiles against your skin, trailing his lips lower and lower, over the straps of the muzzle and to the top of the collar.

“I wonder…” His breath is loud in your ears, mixing with your heartbeat, as he leaves an open-mouthed kiss at the line where skin meets leather. “When we get back…” His teeth ghost over your pulse. “How I would look in your place?”

Your eyes snap open and lock onto him. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze with a wide smile. “Would you like that, my beloved?” He kisses your cheek. “Me, collared and chained, obedient to your every command?”

He hums thoughtfully. “I wonder how obedient you really are. Does this dog bark?”

He pulls tighter on the leash, causing you to strain your neck against it. “Growl?”

He suddenly slackens the lead. You’re unsteady as you press your hands into the desk for support. Before you can growl at him, his fingers are pulling down the collar to get to your sweet spot. His teeth nibble at it, pulling an unexpected sound from your mouth. “Oh? So they can whine. Do you howl, too?”

He kisses your skin more intently, sucking on it and leaving little bites, soothed by his tongue. One right below your jaw makes you whimper. “Good dog,” he whispers. His free hand pets your hair, the one holding the leash coming to rest beside your thigh as he leans over you. “Maybe I should cover your whole neck like this.” He bites harder at the spot. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Would you like that, hm? Being mine?”

You nod. You're on cloud nine, mind fuzzy from elation. He tugs at the leash again, this time pulling it behind you so it presses up against your trachea. You gasp in response, fighting to keep sitting upright even as your head is strained back.

“Speak.”

“Yes.”

He slackens the lead again, breath growing heavy and with a growl at the back his throat as he goes to work devouring you. “Good dog.”

-

Miss Hunter greets you a few paces from the door with wide eyes. She stares at the (very fresh) marks littering your neck, some hidden by the collar and some with oddly suspicious teeth marks. She gives Sylus a dubious look. “Just who needs to be muzzled here?”

He smirks lazily. “The difference is who gets bit, kitten. I would hate to rush your coworkers to the hospital tonight.”

She glares at him, before glancing at your neck one more time. “Somebody’s gonna think this is some weird BDSM thing…” Nonetheless, she moves on. “What are you two supposed to be, exactly?”

“Can’t you tell? After all the effort we went through…” He sighs, feigning disappointment. “I’m a vampire. You seemed so insistent on it, because of my red eyes, remember?”

His costume is very toned down - some custom-fit vampire fangs and some nice clothes. Kieran suggested the fake blood, which runs from his lip down his chin.

“And what are they?”

You think Luke snuck into Linkon City for supplies purely to mess with you further, because while Kieran was handing Sylus a bottle of fake blood, Luke was handing you fuzzy animal ears and a fake tail. If it weren’t for the muzzle, you probably would have bitten him when he pat your head.

“My pet werewolf, of course.” He gestures to the leash. “This is just to ensure they don’t go on any rampages while they’re here.”

She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh huh, is that the only reason?”

He tilts his head back at her. “Sorry, sweetie, I’m afraid our relationship is rather exclusive. We’re not looking for a third member right now.”

Her cheeks heat up as she sputters out, “Th-That’s not what I meant!” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Anyway, everyone’s inside. Just, don’t scare them off,” she gives you a pointed look, “and keep your fangs to yourself.” She turns it on Sylus.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’m as docile as they come.”

She shakes her head again and runs off, slipping inside the house where the party is taking place.

A warm hand scratches you playfully behind one of the fake animal ears. “Ready?”

You turn to him and crook a finger to beckon him down to your height. Even without a collar to control him, he does as you ask, until his sharp eyes are level with yours. He shouldn’t have been so caught off guard by the sudden feeling of the leash at the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. He huffs a laugh once he realizes what you’ve done.

From the outside, it looks awkward and uncomfortable. Your leash pulls at your own collar as you hold it around his neck, pinched together at the front with one of your hands so he can’t pull away. From there, it trails down to his own hand, where it’s still wrapped around in his hold.

From the inside, Sylus’s eyes glance down at your mouth, and how he wishes the muzzle weren’t there so he could kiss you. You lean forward until the cold metal wires of the muzzle brush against his ear. “I’m looking forward to my treat.”

He turns his head to meet your eye, a wicked little gleam shining back at you. “So am I.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton

[leob3ars]

I woke up this morning three times.

The first time I woke up, I remember it being dark out still but I had energy. So I had gotten something to drink or perhaps I did something else. I do not remember since I was half-awake.

The second time, I do not remember at all except Lord Helios was beginning to liven up the sky with the sun. A beautiful sunrise was about to start. Then I went back to sleep.

The third time I woke up, Apollo was blinding me with his sunlight. Seriously, blinding. I had no problem with that, as it gave me energy to start my day which I am very grateful. I love beautiful mornings like that, as well as ones with fresh cold air out, the grass is green, all of the deities I work with were definitely saying hello and good morning. As I am speaking now, Apollo is still blinding me.

Anyways, I sat up and was surprised how Apollo could reach past my window with his sunlight. My bed is between my two windows yet Apollo managed to make his sunlight so bright since he can't reach towards my face in my bed. So instead he's most likely thinking, "I'll brighten my sunlight to wake them up then!" Shiiinng- goes the light.

My morning has been good so far though! I ate a bit of donuts because, why not. I cleaned Apollo's and Artemis altar, but not Hermes since I cleaned his a few days ago. I'll wait a bit more for him, though I do just spray his whole altar while it's still there. I wrote down some ideas I wanted to do for them and took my dogs out. That led me to sit out there enjoying what Nature has to offer. Cool air, green grass, light breeze, Apollo's warm sunlight. I also managed to get my best friend's birthday gift ready!

I try to thank the gods every day for their help, especially I need to thank Lord Hypnos for such wonderful sleep last night. I passed out while watching YouTube as I got so comfortable. My neck didn't hurt as much this morning which I am very grateful! Even if I don't thank them everyday, pray to them every day, give offerings daily etc., the gods understand and are still so kind! Just remember to respect them and be kind to them. Would you want someone to disrespect you and be rude to you? Absolutely not!

So I thank the gods the best I can, but Apollo, Hermes, and Artemis, including any other gods already know how grateful I am.

[sexysadie23]

spoiler alert, i repeat: spoiler alert.

please continue to scroll if you have not yet watched OBX4 Part 2. Do not check these comments. IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO ADD PLS COMMENT x

People are saying that JJ’s death and Rafe breaking up with Sofia could lead to Riara finally manifesting on screen.

Reasons why this wouldn’t happen:

1. I genuinely believed that Rafe loved and still loves Sofia and doubt their story is over. I hope it’s not; I really ship them!! They are a beautiful couple and not even Kiara could bring that soft side out of him.

2. JJ died. Kiara would NOT move on so fast and especially not with Rafe (someone JJ hated severely).

3. Kie has been genuinely SCARED of Rafe. A lot of people think those scenes are sexual tension but you can see the fear in her eyes to the point where she grabs a knife.

4. Kie knows her friends HATE Rafe but [see point 6 in the next section]

5. Kiara will be too focused on revenge.

however

Reasons why this COULD happen:

1. Kiara may go into self destruct mode and feel like she needs to fill that gaping hole JJ left.

2. Not canon (yet?) but with all the evidence, in that Rafe is constantly ONLY forgiving Kiara and is ONLY nice to her, they may have had a past on her Kook Year. Just a theory!

3. Rafe is angry by nature, and Kiara is going to be angry after JJ’s death. He may let her lean into that side of herself because he does that all the time, she might even feel comfortable to be angry around him. however I am sure the other pogues are angry, but Kie seems to be on a bloodhunt. She may go dark and he will probably be the only one to understand.

4. Rafe was the FIRST to agree to go to Lisbon and get Chandler Groff. Everyone else questioned it, but he said what she was thinking before she even had the chance to say it.

5. Also we know that Jiara partly came to fruition because of the fans shipping them, so maybe the show runners have seen the Riara theories and decided to “give the fans what they want”??? Although I wouldn’t say every fan wants this for the reasons I listed above.

6. Rafe is definitely getting a redemption arc (I am so happy but also scared because it means he might die. Like why do shows redeem a character and finally have us route for them just to kill them? Although I don’t think he will die for some reason.)

7. Both of their relationships ended, leaving a path for them to idk find each other?? Sarah and John B have each other as well as Cleo and Pope on their way to Lisbon. I know most of them are friends but Kiara may seek to end her loneliness?

8. I really hope it doesn’t happen soon but most characters whose lover dies (Ie Rick with Laurie and Michonne in The Walking Dead) have to move on eventually. We can’t expect them to stay single forever so PERHAPS if there was a time jump (even at the s5 end perhaps), along with Rafe’s redemption arc, they could be together. I doubt they would put Kiara with some random guy. If she were to find love again it would be with someone we know from the show.

However I doubt this will happen again because the show might end pogue style with friendship and family at the forefront rather than romance. As I wrote the sentence before THOUGH: another thought popped up. Rafe will be the uncle to Sarah’s baby and Kiara will be the ‘aunt’ so maybe if the ending is all about family, maybe they will come together?? Rafe’s redemption would have to be REALLY good though.

9. Kie literally saved Rafe on that boat???

10. The show creators said ON VIDEO that they never thought about Riara until the fans brought up their chemistry and that they found it “so wrong it is almost right”???? Helloooo??

I hope none of these^ are true though because I love Rofia.

then again Sofia might have just been used as a way to move the plot forward to get Rafe in the position where he needs to go with the Pogues.

Any thoughts??

[quibbs126]

Also Cream Ferret here is part of a species called the Cream Critters, who are natural babysitters

I feel like this would be an odd thing to just naturally occur, especially since the Cream Critters are likely specifically about helping baby Cookies, so I personally assume that the Cream Critters are associated with/were made by the same entity who usually makes baby Cookies

I’m just adding this on to my personal evidence file