#so yay for me /s 😭

[phantom-of-the-501st]

There's a trope that I see turning up a lot with the way people write Echo that I actually really enjoy reading and I hadn't quite clocked how much I like reading it until now

And that's Echo saying absolutely unhinged, out of pocket shit when he's angry. And I don't mean "oh that was a bit of a low blow", I mean *record scratch* *everyone freezes* "wtf was that?!" crossing about 50 different lines kind of harsh. The idea that this man reaches a breaking point and then snaps is just 🤌

And it's not because I think Echo being asshole is a good thing or that anyone deserves the out of pocket comments, but there's something about that trope that seems to hit a certain vibe that just makes sense to me. Maybe it's because I'm a lover of angst but I actually love this trope, especially if you throw Crosshair into the mix because I feel like an argument between them when they're both at their absolute peak would be rough.

But of course I also love reading the fallout and aftermath of the whole thing because who am I if not someone who likes seeing characters face the consequences of their own actions? 🫡

[thedeadthree]

-`. LEGS 2024 SPOTIFY WRAPPED.

tis the season besties!! the loveliest lovely @leviiackrman tagged me to share my wrapped for this year!! ty jess !!!!!! <3 (and saw @shellibisshe and @statichvm do this as well!)

TAGGING: @griffin-wood, @ruinbringer, @unholymilf, @grapecaseschoices, @risingsh0t, @chuckhansen, @arduath, @queennymeria, @jillvalentinesday, @shadowglens, @jendoe, @florbelles, @faerune, @bloodofvalyria, @loriane-elmuerto, @gortash, @full---ofstarlight, @jackiesarch, @leondaltons, @aponibolinayen, @bbrocklesnar, @d-vx, @captmactavish, @confidentandgood, @quickhacked, @katsigian, @jacobseed, @celticwoman, @alltoowelltv, @fragilestorm, @nokstella, @dekarios, @mrdekarios, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @themysteriouslou, @villainthirst, @envergothash, @inkrys, @avallachs, @gwynbleidd, @amyreads, @minaharkers, @myrkulyte, @pheedraws, @cptcassian and you!

[vonlipvig]

me losing my wordle streak, getting connections in my last try, and doing the mini crossword in under two minutes

[aceofhearts25]

G1 Transformers x Reader Mini 🤖 Scenarios 🤖 - Part 2

Yup, part 2 of the first one. That pretty much it. I love these guys. Enjoy!

Optimus is so cute, y’all, help- 😭

(I listened to a bunch of 50s-80s music with this and it made the G1 vibe so much better- 🤚)

-

Y/N: *Dancing with Bumblebee, Jazz, and other Autobots to cheery human music*

Optimus: *Silently watching with a smile behind his mask*

Y/N: *Nudges him over, dragging his servo* C’mon-!

Optimus: Ehehe, I can’t- *Shakes his head bashfully with an awkward chuckle but eventually gives in* Oh, alright… *Walking awkwardly and all cute-looking, just fidgeting slightly to the music*

-

Y/N: *Washing Optimus’ alt mode after he accepted Y/N’s offer*

Optimus, mentally, who was going crazy over the feel of Y/N’s body and gentle hands on him: ‘This was a big mistake…’

-

Y/N, after hearing nonstop explosions and loud noises coming from somewhere in the Ark: What’s happening? Why’s everything exploding?

Jazz, who was casually chatting with Ratchet: Oh, that’s just Optimus trying to cook somethin’ for ya. *Goes back to talking with Ratchet while explosions keep happening in the background*

Y/N: 🥺

-

Starscream, holding Y/N captive in his servo: Pathetic little fleshling.

Y/N: *Staying still and smiling*

Starscream, looking down at Y/N, frowning: *Shakes Y/N up and down* Are you not afraid?

Y/N: *Looks up at Starscream while smiling* No.

Starscream, giving Y/N to Soundwave: Take it, Soundwave! I don’t want it- it’s… weird.

-

Bumblebee at 3 A.M. for no reason: Hey, Y/N, ya wanna go for a drive? 😃

Y/N, completely unfazed whatsoever: Sure. *Cue the wholesome 3 A.M. drive where Y/N eventually falls asleep while Bee drives*

-

Y/N, sitting on Optimus’ legs, watching a horror movie with Spike and the Autobots: This is fun! Right, guys? …Guys?

All the Autobots: *Scared shaking*

-

Soundwave, holding Y/N in his servo: Lord Megatron: Autobot’s human companion has been captured.

Y/N: Ooh, I like your voice, talk more!

Soundwave: *Confused head tilt*

Y/N: Talk, please-

Soundwave: Uhh…

Y/N: Yay!

Soundwave: *Mixed emotions 👉👈*

-

Shockwave, keeping Y/N prisoner: Stop touching my stuff, human.

Y/N: Can I touch your eye?

Shockwave, S H O C K E D: N O.

Y/N: Please?

Shockwave, later on: Lord Megatron, can we please stop kidnapping that human? It’s a very weird one.

-

Starscream: *Snatches Y/N away and flies off in his Cybertronian form*

Y/N: Woooo!!!

Starscream: *Confused s c r e a m i n g*

-

Megatron: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LET THE HUMAN LEAVE?!

Starscream: It overwhelmed me with endless compliments, Master!

Megatron: …What the f-

-

Optimus: *Gives Y/N a gift on Valentine’s Day.*

Y/N: *Thanks him and walks off, flustered*

Spike, nervously: Hey, Optimus, do you know that only couples gift each other stuff on Valentine’s Day?

Optimus, who was unaware: They do-?! *Flustered Optimus*

-

Y/N, bored and sad, late at night: *Pokes Optimus, who wakes up from stasis* Hey- can I go on a drive with you, please?

Optimus, smiling softly underneath the mask: Sure, Little One. *Cue a two hour romantic wholesome drive where they chat away 🫶*

-

Y/N, being held in Thundercracker’s servo: Can I please be kidnapped by the pretty one?

Skywarp: Ha ha! It called you ugly!

Y/N: No, no, you’re both fine, but like can I be kidnapped by Starscream though? He’s my fav.

Starscream, slightly flustered, snatching Y/N: HA HA! Fools! I’m the superior seeker! Even the puny human can see it!

Thundercracker and Skywarp: *Start fighting Starscream*

Y/N, who was dropped: *Legitimately disappointed sigh* Oh, well. *Shrugs and walks off while they fight in the background*

-

Bumblebee, while in the city with Y/N: *Transforms into Cybertronian form*

Y/N, spotting a random guy walking near: HIDE, BEE!!!

Random Guy: What- wha- did I just see- I- you- did you see that-?!?!

Y/N, running up to the guy aggressively, eyes wide: N O… And neither did you. *Walks off eerily and drives off in Bumblebee*

Bumblebee, after a few seconds of driving: *Starts laughing maniacally with Y/N*

-

Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Y/N: *Walking to an empty, secluded space with an enormous device in hand*

Optimus, who was following, arms crossed: What are you doing?

Wheeljack, nervously: Oh, uh, just testin’ out a new invention, Prime!

Optimus, in his sassy voice: Secretly? In the middle of the dessert? With Ratchet? The MEDIC?

Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Y/N: *N E R V E S*

-

Jazz: *Singing crazy good*

Y/N, dazzled by his voice: *Watching*

Jazz: *Drags Y/N’s by the arm with him (𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓻𝓲𝔃𝔃) and they start singing their hearts out and dancing like crazy*

-

Megatron, after capturing Y/N: *Grabs Y/N* Shut your tiny mouth, Fleshling.

Y/N, looking up at him: Why do you turn into a gun? What’s the point? You got a canon on your arm.

Megatron: *Midlife crisis mode* SHUT UP!!!

-

Optimus, while getting shot at by Decepticons: *Covers Y/N, taking the shots*

Y/N: *Fucking dying but not from the shots: from the angle Optimus is in 😳*

(smth like this ⬆️ 🤭)

And there we are! More mini scenarios! I love making these, these guys are the loves of my life. 👌

@poketalefan1993 oh also @tinydefector if he feels like reading part 2.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ZEEEZZZIE YOUR MAKING ME SOB ROLL ON THE FLOOR AND JUMP OFF WALLS RN EEEEEEEEE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

💖💞💘

💕💝💞

If I may request a Rise fic!! I’m a huge sucker for comfort/cheer up tickles, so could you possibly write a disaster twins fic with Lee Leo and Ler Donnie where Leo’s been having a pretty bad day (because of what is your choice!) and ends up feeling self conscious about himself and stuff, so Donnie decides to cheer up his twin!! Please don’t feel rushed and make sure you’re taking care of yourself ^_^

~ 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜!!! ~

💜💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💜💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙼𝚂𝙺𝙽𝚂𝙽𝙺𝙼𝙳𝙽𝚂𝙹 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄. 𝙶𝙴𝚃. 𝙼𝙴!!! 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝙹𝙰𝙼!!! 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜…𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢..𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎??? 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!!!˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟹𝟿𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝙱𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜:  @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow @aceofspades-doodles @ziipzeepzop-eez

@tmntheadforever123 @rice-cake-teen10 @aninabanina6969

@savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee @saturnzskyzz @titters-and-tingles

@someone1348 @my-l0v3r-v3rse @snipersiniora @mistyandsnow

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙰𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚢…

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙴 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again.” Leo grumbled under his breath as he rested his mouth on his palm, glancing away from his brother as he sighed loudly. 

“Well maybe if you weren’t so fucking reckless I wouldn’t need to.” Donnie growled lowly, glaring down at his twin.

“I’m not a baby, Don. I don’t need to be supervised like I’m some bomb triggered to explode.” The younger said in exasperation, lying down on his bed whilst grabbing a comic book to read off of his desk.

If Leo was going to be told off and scolded by his dear beloved brow-loving brother, he should at least have something to occupy himself with in the meanwhile. 

The softshell groaned eternally at his little brother’s action, quickly snatching the piece of literature out of the other’s hands and throwing it effortlessly to the ground. 

Uninterested lime green eyes locked with a determined yet fierce light golden, both of them refusing to look away or blink to show their dominance.

But after a while, the red eared slider grew more impatient, looking away again as he picked a hangnail on his thumb, “If you’re going to yell at me, can you just get it over with? I saw a reddit post predicting what’s going to happen in The Umbrella Academy season four and I need to read it.” 

“You can read that later, Nardo. I promise you, that reddit post isn’t going to fly away.” The elder said as he pinched the bridge of his snout, “What I need you to do right now is acknowledge what you did today was stupid, alright?” 

Leo looked away from his older brother, scoffing lightly, “I do stupid things all the time. What stupid action of mine are you wanting to scream at me for this time?” 

The softshell turtle took a couple deep breaths at that comment, drumming his fingers on his left arm in a soothing motion because he was NOT going to give into the urge of strangling his twin brother…

…No matter how much he deserved it.

“I’m not planning on screaming at you— that won’t help anyone or anything.” The purple banded turtle explained calmly…but you could see and tell he was starting to lose his paitence. 

“But you want to.” The red eared slider pressed on. 

“Leo…please. I don’t want to argue right now.” 

“We’re not arguing. We’re just kindly discussing my oh-so stupid descision that unfolded earlier today, right?” The younger twin smirked smugly, his eyes locking once again with his brother. 

When it came to arguments, the leader in blue always had this wonderful tactic to avoiding things: attempting to annoy the other person so much that they drop the subject they wanted to discuss with him completely.

It always worked with Raph…which the red eared slider didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But the only downside of doing this tactic was his dumb twin saw right through it…

…And Leonardo despised it. 

“Nardo…you know what I’m referring to. And stop picking, please. Your going to hurt yourself.” The older attempted to say in a tranquil voice, but it personally just sounded like he was one second away from losing. his. shell.

“I sadly do not know what your referring to.” The blue cladded teen said coyly, picking on his hangnail more desperately now, “Care to enlighten me, Tello?” 

Donnie’s expression hardened ever so slightly at his younger brother’s absolute persistence on annoying him out of his right mind so he could eventually drop the subject…but the softshell turtle was not budging.

His twin would have to try way harder than that.

“I’d love to.” The light golden eyed mutant said in a fake sweet tone as he walked over to lean his shell on Leo’s closed door, crossing his arms in disaproval. The elder grabbed his brother’s sword, planting it right next to his foot so the blue banded turtle couldn’t reach for it. 

The red eared slider’s cocky grin turned to a small grimace (shake) as he soon came to terms with what his older brother was doing…

…He physically could not leave from this conversation…literally.

Leonardo crossed his arms, trying to mimick the other’s serious demeanor but was only met with an icy glare in return. 

“What you did during today’s mission was completley reckless and idiotic, Leonardo…and you know it.” The second oldest said, “I had that thug exactly where I wanted him but noooooo. Because you saw me trip you thought it would be a spectacular idea to throw yourself on top of me as that hooligan tried to hit me with his bat!!” Donatello seethed. 

“We’ve been over this multiple times, Leo! There was no reason for you to do that!” The light golden eyed teen yelled, his glare only hardening more as he saw the younger stuttering over his words to try to defend himself.

“I’m not done.” The taller teen growled, all of his calmness and collectiveness thrown completley out of the window.

The slider slightly flinched (which went un-noticed by the other) at his brother’s genuine angry tone, his left leg fidgeting and bouncing up and down like crazy. 

His tactic was really starting to not work in his favour at all…

“Just…stop putting yourself in the middle of danger like you’re just expecting the rest of us to just watch. We’re your family…and most importantly, we can defend ourselves just fine.” 

“Well ihisn’t that hypocritic!” Leonardo scoffed before creasing his eye ridges together in genuine confusion, mumbling to himself, “Hyp…uh…hypocrotic? Hyp…Hypocratic…?” 

“Hypocritical?” The older deadpanned.

“YES! THAT WORD!” Leo said, “When we were fighting Kraang Prime on the ship and he went to take a blow at Mikey…what did you do?”

Donatello scowled, his eyes not leaving his twin, “…I went in front of him and shielded him with my mystic tech.”

“Exactly.” The lime green eyed mutant scoffed, “And how is that any different from what I did, hm?”

“BECAUSE I HAD A PLAN!!!” Donatello shouted, “I planned to accordingly go in front of Mikey so my sheild could protect both him and me. Did it end up turning out perfect? Fuck no. Kraang Prime slashed right through it and me and Mikey went tumbling towards the ground…” The glasses wielding teen said through clenched teeth. 

The light golden eyed teen rubbed his face tiredly, his hands clenching and unclenching in frustration, “But I had a plan. You on the other hand, just zoomed recklessly on top of me and hoped for the best.”

“…I saved you, didn’t I…?” The younger twin mumbled out meekly, causing Donatello’s blood to absolutley boil. 

“That’s not the point!!!” The elder said as he clenched his hands at his sides again.

“Then what is?!” Leo said desperately, “Because from the looks of it, it just seems like you want to yell at me for just doing my job.” 

Leonardo pulled on his mask tails anxiously, trying to calm himself down but ultimately just making himself feel worse by doing the action, “I’ve been trying to be a better leader—“

“Leo—“

“—For you and Mikey and April and Raph and Casey and C.J. a-and Dad! But it seems like no matter what the hell I do there’s always something I’m doing WRONG!!!” The younger twin shouted, blinking back tears as he glared at the ground as if it took his Jupiter Jim comic.

Which…it did. The blue banded mutant wanted it back now, actually…

“I saved you! I-I didn’t even get hurt by doing it but somehow there’s an issue…” The lime green eyed teen murmured, both of his legs bouncing up and down as he tugged on his mask tails harder, “There always is…”

“Leonardo can you please just listen to me?” The older twin said in irritation. 

“But Don I’m—“

“No, Leo! Just listen! That’s all you need to do!” Donnie snapped as he cut his brother off, “I don’t want you leaping head first into harms way! At all! Especially if you don’t have a plan!” The softshell turtle exclaimed as he flapped his hands against the side of his thighs, but his eye contanct remaining on his little brother.

“Oho so now you don’t trust me well enough to know that I can handle myself in combat?” Leo said in a last desperate attempt to make his brother drop the conversation.

“I…” The young scientist’s eye twitched, his eyebrows creasing together as he had to physically restrain himself to not beat the ever living crap out of the other teen, “THIS IS NOT ABOUT TRUST, NARDO!” The light golden eyed mutant screamed desperately, his hands flapping faster as the red eared slider shrunk at his usage of tone, “This is about you not even thinking about what would happen to yourself when you do reckless nonsense like this.”

Leo glanced to the side, his eyes watering as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He just wanted to help and be the leader his brother’s deserved…

But he always found a way to fuck it up without even noticing, huh?

"You don't think about what could happen to you and I hate it!” The elder cried, “What would’ve happened if Raph didn’t come behind the guy and knocked him out cold at the last second, huh?! Would you have just stayed right on me as he continued to beat you with his bat?!”

Leonardo bit the inside of his cheek harder, his legs bouncing up and down more as his fingernails dug unforgivingly into his arms, “I-I’m sorry, Donnie—”

“Or would you have tried to fight him instead?! Mind you, you dropped your sword before coming to me so you’d have no weapon to defend yourself.” 

“You don't think about how much it scares me when you do dumb shit like that! I hate seeing you get hurt…I freaking loathe it.” Donnie rested the back of his head on Leo’s door, taking a couple deep breaths and hugging himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

Jeez…when the hell had he started yelling? His throat stung like a bitch now…

And when had he started shaking like a bobby head?!

The older twin’s expression softened, pinching the bridge of his snout once more, “I care about you…so fucking much, okay…?” The purple banded turtle said gently as he gradually started to simmer down and become more calm, “Your my twin…my little brother. And I hate to be repetitive but I-I just despise seeing you hurt…physically or emotionally…so please just…”

The young scientist’s eyes widened, peering down at his brother who did not seem to be following…at all. 

Leo’s eyes were wide as saucers as he hit his arm with his fist repeatedly whilst obviously trying to suck in whatever tears dared to try and escape. 

The taller turtle basically ran to his distressed twin, trying to stop him from harming himself any further but was only met with a low grunt.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit. 

Wonderful job, Donatello! You yelled at your brother so much he shut down!

Even though you knew he can’t fucking stand being yelled at and the whole point of you even being here was to explain what he did wrong collectively and calmly because that was the exact oppositeof what Raph does when he’s worried…

But no! You yelled at him anyway.

Wonderful job, Donatello…wonderful. job. 

The older twin sighed sadly, gently grabbing his brother’s wrists so he would stop hitting himself. The two brother’s shared eye contact once again, an unsure lime green meeting an understanding yet uncertain light golden.

“Nardo…” The softshell started, squeezing the other’s hands gently, “…Are you with me, bud…?”

Leo just nodded quietly, squeezing back. 

“God…Nardo I’m so sorry…” The older muttered, “I don’t…I don’t know why the hell I lost my cool like that. I-I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t of yelled…I-I just…” Donatello sighed, squeezing his brother’s hands once again. “I’m not angry with you. I…I was just frustrated.”

“Well, no…let me rephrase: I am angry with you— livid even. You know damn well enough that when you do those kinds of things my heart literally jumps out of my shell. I need you to put into consideration that I would like to live to at least seventy-seven…”

The younger twin giggled wetly, fidgeting with his brother’s fingers as he spoke, “…Why seventy-seven?”

“Albert Einstein died when he was seventy-six…I can and will outlive him.” The light golden eyed teen said matter-of-factly, “But back to what I was initially saying…I know you meant well. You saw that I was in trouble…and you dropped literally everything in order to help me get out of said trouble. You don’t think of what happens to you…you just do it because you’ll know if you do we’ll be alright…”

“I-I just…I just wanted to protect you…I-I just wanted to help…” Leo tried to explain.

“I know. I know, Lee…” Donatello sighed, rubbing the slider’s knuckles gently with his thumb, “But you need to understand that with you trying to protect us that way, your putting us in the same situation your trying to keep us away from.” The elder explained lightly, smiling softly as him and his twin’s forehead’s touched. 

“You’re getting hurt— or at the very least almost getting hurt. We’re feeling the same anguish and guilt you would feel if any of us did that. I get that you want to be a good leader and shit…but you can lead well without doing that…okay?” 

Leo fiddled with the other’s fingers a bit more, his bouncing leg starting to calm a bit, “I’ll…try to be more careful when it comes to me protecting you guys like that. When I see you all in trouble…I just…react. I don’t really care about what happens to me as long as you guys end up okay. But…I’ll try to be more careful. And if I ever end up, like, being a bit too reckless…you can just tell me…deal?”

“Deal.” Donnie nodded, squeezing Leo’s hands one last time before letting go, wiping his twin’s eyes with his hoodie sleeve, “Now please stop crying or you’re going to make me start crying.” 

Leo snorted, examining the other’s now tearing up expression, “I think it’s a bit too late for that…” 

“GAH! FUHUCK!” Donnie cursed, wiping his own eyes as the slider laughed loudly at his exclamation.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Leo…don’t you think you’re getting a bit too big for this…?” Donatello grumbled as Leonardo was on his lap, getting all nice and comfy as he rested his chin on the older’s shoulder. “Noooope.” Leo drawed out, making a dramatic popping noise at the end of the 'p', “'Sides, this is what you get for making me emo earlier.”

“…I said I was sorry…I didn’t mean to shout at you like that. I was just concerned…” 

“I know that, you worrywart. I was just kidding.” The lime green eyed teen said lovingly, squishing his brother into a tighter embrace. The older let out a short shriek at the hug but of course didn’t mind the other being so clingy. 

If the young scientist really and truly did mind? Leo would’ve been pushed to the floor by now. 

The two twins shared a comfortable silence…well…a semi-comfortable silence.

The purple banded teen felt…off. His younger brother had this…look in his eyes; like he wanted to say something but was afraid of what Donnie would say or how Donnie would react.

Which was so damn dumb Donatello didn’t even know how to explain it.

“…There’s something else on your mind.” The taller turtle hummed, his suspicions only rising as the other glanced to the side. “Uhm…no there isn’t. See? This is why I call you a worrywart.” Leonardo said, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously. 

Very convincing Leo…very convincing.

“Don’t even try lying to me, Leon. My older brother and twin senses are tingling. You can’t argue against that kind of logic.” The scientist said matter-of-factly. 

“What are you, Spiderman?” The younger snorted. 

“We shall never know.” The older shrugged, a small smile spreading to his face as he saw the other snort softly at his statement, “Now stop deflecting. Spill.” 

“…Can you…adjust my elbow braces…?” The red eared slider muttered.

“…Why can’t you do it?” The other questioned. Not in a malicious way; he was just genuinely curious. 

“I like it when you do it. You make it more firm, y'know?” The blue banded turtle whined dramatically, “Pleeeeeease?”

“Ugh, Jesus— fine. But drop the pout…you look ridiculous.” The taller mutant sighed, lightly grabbing his brother’s arm as he readjusted the braces. 

The purple banded turtle meticulously took off the other’s left arm brace, tracing his twin’s elbow to make sure it was healing correctly— which the slider couldn’t help but wriggle slightly to.

As the older twin put the brace back on, he looked at the other turtle in complete worry, “…Why are you squirming around so much?” Donatello asked in confusion. 

“…No reason.” Leonardo stated, but let out a tiny squeak as Donnie lightly pinched his forearm. 

“Yohou okay…?” The glasses wielding mutant giggled.   

“I-I’m fihine!” The smaller turtle insisted, covering his mouth as he let out a loud shriek in result to his brother now lightly scribbling his forearm. “EEEEE! P-Plehease moohoove yohour hahahand!!” The younger sputtered out, hiding his face in the crook of the scientist’s neck which the older turtle couldn’t help but let his heart melt to.

“Oh.” Donatello hummed, biting back an amused laugh, “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how ticklish you are…”

“Snrt I-Ihihi’m nahat ticklish. I juhust don’t wahant your hand thehere…” 

And isn’t that quaint. 

If Donnie had a penny for every time Leo said he 'wasn’t ticklish', the softshell would be richer than Elon Musk.

“…Right. So…you wouldn’t mind me doing this then?” The young genius mused as he scribbled one hand over his twin’s ribs. “EEEEHEH! Duhuhude noHOH!! F-Fuhuck yohou!” The younger twin managed through his small giggles, pushing on his brother’s plastron to try and escape while he still could.

The elder laughed fondly at his little brother’s futile actions, hugging him closer as he lightly tickled him, “Nahardo! My brohohother in Christ gehet back here or you’re gohoing to fahall off of the bed!

“N-NOHO!! LEHET ME GO!” The lime green eyed teen screeched loudly, kicking his legs and pushing even harder on the other’s plastron, his eye’s widening in panic as his older brother casually lifted him up and pinned his arms above his head, his plastron now facing up on the bed.

Eugh boy…

Donnie grinned, sitting on the other’s thighs as he wiggled his unoccupied fingers in the air near the slider’s side, “That’s better~!”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT snrt PLEHEASE DEEHEE!!” The red eared slider cried, kicking his legs from underneath the scientist.

If he was going to go down…he would at least go down fighting. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet, you goof…” The older twin chuckled. 

“B-BUHUT YOHOUR GOHOHONNA!” 

“'Gonna' what, exactly?”

“TihiHICKLE ME!!” 

“Tickle you? Well, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” Donatello snickered, using his free hand to skitter his fingers along the crook’s of the younger’s neck. 

The blue banded turtle squealed, shaking his head back in forth whilst scrunching his shoulders, “GAHaha— snrt EEEEHEEHEH oho cohome snrt OHAHAN!!” 

“What’s wrong, Leo? I thought you said you weren’t ticklish~?” The older teased.

“Snrt STHDHAHAH! Shuhut UP! IHI’M naHAT!” The younger shouted, tugging and pulling his arms to try and get his hand’s free from the other’s grasp. Donnie just laughed softly at the action, wiggling his fingers above his little brother’s stomach. 

The lime green eyed teen’s eyes widened in panic, thrashing in the hold to try and loosen his brother’s grip but the purple banded turtle did not budge even a smidge. 

Leo’s laughs became more giddy and loud as he continued to squirm, small squeals and snorts escaping his beak as his twin brother’s hand went sloooooowly to his stomach. 

“N-NOHO NONONONO DAHA— snrt DOHON!!” The smaller turtle snorted, hiding his face in the side of his arm which Donnie couldn’t help but giggle to. 

The light golden eyed mutant rested his hand on the slider’s plastron, making the younger turtle’s laugh raise almost a thousand octaves. 

“DOHON’T snrt DOHON’T DOHOHON’T snrt YOU DARE!! YOHOUR SOHO MEEHEEHEEAN!!” Leonardo whined, hiding deeper into his arm and becoming a giggly flustered mess.

The older twin shook his head fondly at his little brother’s embarrassed state, taking the opportunity to tickle the younger’s stomach while he wasn’t looking. 

Leo let out a loud scream, descending into high-pitched cackles as even louder snorts followed, “HAHAHAHELP!! IHI’M SNRT BEEHEEING SLAHAHAUTERED!!” 

“I’m quite literally only using one hand, Nardo. Stop being dramatic.” The light golden eyed teen mused whilst watching his brother snort and squirm, “And here I thought I was the dancer of the family. Look at you! You’re making up a whole��dance routine right now!” He said as he let go of Leo, crossing his arms in amusement. 

“S-Shuhuhut snrt up…” The younger twin wheezed out, hugging his middles as he playfully glared at his purple loving brother. 

Then, a lightbulb went on in the scientist’s brain, a smug smile spreading to his face, “Hm…you know, Lee—”

“Dohont call snrt me thahat!” Leo giggly interupted. 

“Uh-huh. Well, Lee…did you know that the underarms are one of the warmest places on the human body?” The scientist said. 

The lime green eyed mutant cocked his head to the side in confusion, “Soho?” 

“Soooo my hands are cold. Very cold, in fact. I’d be forever in your debt if you could—”

“NO! NONOHO WAHAY IN HEHELL! G-GOHO AWAHAHAY!” Leo squealed, reaching for his brother’s wrists as the elder tried to tickle his neck once again.

Sigh…Leonardo made this too damn easy sometimes.

The glasses wielding teen wasn’t just going to miss this oh-so-definetly-not-planned opportunity! The softshell scribbled his fingers along the slider’s underarms, making the younger let out a loud squawk as he shot his arms down. 

“NAHAH AHAHAHA— snrt GEHET THEHE HEHELL OHAHA— snrt OHOHOUT!!” Leonardo cried while banging his heels on the bed. 

“What~?” Donnie hummed inocently. 

“GEHEHET AHA— snrt GEHET. OHOUT. OHOF THEHEHERE!”

“Awe…why~?”

“BEEHEECAUSE IHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” 

“And?” Donnie chuckled, “That sounds like a you problem, little brother.” 

“AHHHAHA— snrt GAHAHAD FUHUCK YOHOU!!!”

“Pardon…what was that?” Donnie questioned as he pinched where Leo’s hip met his thigh. “N-NONO— snrt NAHAHAH!! I CAN’T— snrt PLEHEHEASE I’M snrt SORRY!! I-IHI TAHAHAKE IHIT BAHAHCK!!” 

“Nah…I think I’ll just stay riiiiight here for a bit…” The taller turtle smiled, using both of his hands now to tickle Leo into a laughing and snorting blob.

The younger weakly hit his big brother’s arms, throwing his head back as he squeezed his eyes completely shut. 

“…And you know what, Lee~?” 

“WHAHAHAT NOW?!” 

“I’m feeling…kind of famished.” The elder mused, his smile almost looking like the signature Joker’s as he saw his younger brother’s face pale. 

Leonardo scrambled to sit up, fighting with his brother’s arms as he giggly protested, “PLAHA— snrt PLAHAHEASE! PLEHEASE snrt D-DOHON’T!!” 

Donnie pinched his brother’s thighs unforgivingly, “You should have thought about that before yapping such ill nonsense about yourself.”

“WHAHA— snrt WHAHAHA— snrt WHAHAT DIHID snrt IHIHI snrt EVEN SAHAHAY?!” The lime green eyed turtle cackled, flapping his hands on the mattress. 

It took literally everything in the older twin not to coo his baby brother’s adorable actions; instead, he lightly moved Leo’s hands away, smiling evily as he lowered his head to the other’s plastron, “You don’t even know. Guess you really want this, huh~?” 

The blue banded teen kicked his knees into his brother’s shoulders and shell, throwing his head back in complete hysterics whilst waiting for him complete and utter demise. 

The softshell wasted no time blowing raspberries after raspberries in the middle of his younger’s stomach, making sure to move the other’s hands away any time he tried to push at the young genius’ head. 

Donnie didn’t feel like getting brain damage after all.

Plus, he had his signature glasses ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛᴍ on! And those were trademarked…as you can wonderfully see. 

“God…can you get more ticklish?” Donatello giggled, squeezing and squishing the red eared slider’s knees with one hand and scribbling his sides with the other whilst contuinung to raspberry Leo’s stomach. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE SNRT PLEHEHEASE!!! IHI SNRT DAHAHAH— SNRT DAHA— SNRT DAHUNNO!!” The smaller turtle screamed, happy stimming with his arms on the taller twin’s shoulder.

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle, deciding to show his twin a tad bit of mercy as he nibbled his stomach lightly. 

The slider let out bloody murder from his beak, happy tears threatening to fall from his eyes as his bubbly cackles and snorts bounced off the walls of his room.

“Jeez…I think Peppa Pig has some competition, huh~?” The light golden eyed mutant snickered.

“PLEHEHEASE!! TEHEHELLO SNRT IHI’M GOH— SNRT GOHOHA— AHAHA SNRT MYHYHY SNRTGAHAHAHAD!!!” The smaller teen pleaded.

“Do you promise to stop putting yourself in between danger and your family?” The older hummed. 

“YEHEHES!!” The younger cried loudly.

“Do you promise to go easier on yourself?” 

“YAHA— SNRT YAHA— SNRT YEHEHES!!!”

“Do you promise to accept your doing an amazing job as leader and we all love you—”

“MY SNRT FUHUHUCKING SNRT GAHAHAD!!! IHIHI SNRT GEHET IT!!” Leonardo shouted, his blush now completley blending into the red stripes on his face. 

The softshell turtle got off of the other, sitting next to his little brother as his little brother in question hugged his middles and giggled tiredly. 

“Y-Yohou could ohof juhuhust sahaid ahall of thahat wihihithout tickling meeheee…” The younger grumbled despite the evident smile on his face.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Donnie smiled back, his expression softening as Leo got up and leaned against him softly. The older wraped an arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him closer into a warm, protective gesture. 

“Ahand would yohohou look ahat that! Ihi got yohour emo bahad boy ahahass to smile todahay. Your eheeven hugging me~!” The blue banded leader spoke softly, his voice filled with affection as he poked his twin’s forehead cheekily. 

“You tell anyone that and I will not hesitate to deny that extremely untrue statement.” The scientist huffed, rolling his eyes fondly as his smile spread.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

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[vcnillazelda]

can i req young! reader w 141, just like platonic headcannons and whatnot about like her being a rookie and sparring w ghost or konig or soap or alejandro n ect n stuff, ty!!

ghost team/141 + könig sparring with rookie! s/o

characters: ghost, soap, könig, gaz, alejandro, rudy, price

warnings: mild injury??? maybe?

a/n: aw omg i love this!! + alejandro’s walk omg 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

it was your first time sparring, and you went straight to him???

he’d rather watch you spar and give you tips, but the way you’re begging him to do it with you is swaying him

he’s so tense and worried he might hurt you but with your assurances he’s willing

he does it in more of a private setting, but he still makes notes on your techniques, strength, agility

gives you little tips if you’re dealing with larger opponents

at one point he had you trapped and he will never admit the way you let out a breathy giggle and struggled in his grasp made him fluster behind his mask

is all impressed if you manage to beat him, but on the inside he was going easy on you

ofc you find out after watching him spar with johnny and you’re like “why are you holding back with me???” and he admits he’s just scared he’ll hurt you

when you two are in private afterwards he’ll give you a soft kiss

at the end of the day, he’d rather watch you train rather than partake, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hurt you, even in a controlled setting

-

johnny

unlike his lieutenant, he’s into play fighting with you, so he’s all the way down to spar

ofc he knows sparring is training for you guys and not like a sport, but he still thinks it’s fun and wants you to enjoy it too

he won’t hit hard, he’s a gentleman, and he pretty much always lets you win even though he shouldn’t bc it’s meant to be a fair fight

his old partner in sparring was gaz, but now he has you and he’s actually really enjoying being able to spend extra time with you

the two of you make little jokes to each other as well as trash talk each other, but at the end of the session you’ll hug and be like “you did great :)”

he’s got amazing sportsmanship, so if you genuinely beat him when he’s trying he’ll congratulate you and offer to get you a drink

10/10 best training partner

-

könig

nope.

he’s a big boy with anxiety, he’s terrified of hurting you and (unlike simon) he will voice his concerns to you

it will take A LOT of convincing

he stays on the defensive and sometimes never even lands a blow on you, which leads to him getting scolded

you will have to sit down with him and state that you’re not made of glass and that you’ll be fine, so he eases up and genuinely spars with you

however… he got a bit carried away with adrenaline, and he pinned you in a way that pulled a muscle in your shoulder

apologies. all the time, even after your muscle heals

please assure him everything’s okay bc he will genuinely start crying as if you hate him now 😭

it will take him a while to start training with you again, and this time he’s more aware of his strength and keeps you from genuine harm

like johnny, he’s very sportsmanlike so if you beat him he’ll smile and kiss your forehead with some muttered congratulations in german

treats you to lunch afterwards all the time, bc he loves training in the morning, and will chat about techniques to help you out considering you’re still a rookie

contrary to people’s beliefs, he’s quite a chatty partner when he gets to know you, and will happily give you tips and tricks

-

gaz

yay! you’re both close in age! you both immediately click together. you’re like best friends

loves sparring with you, it’s his favourite activity when on base with you

it looks like the two of you are play fighting most of the time, but tbh kyle just wants to have fun with you whilst also working with you

you both need tips from price, who happily gives them, then observes as the two of you try to use them

you both get really competitive so it takes a while for anyone to tap out

i hc that gaz is into wrestling, so he’ll definitely imitate an announcer to make you laugh and hopefully catch you off guard

loves getting you in a headlock but never hurts you, as much as a goofball he is he’s very aware

if he manages to trap you under him he makes a few jokes in a low tone and steals a kiss

his eyes will always be slightly flirty, and he will 100% flirt between jokes

11/10 amazing partner in general

-

alejandro

immediately agrees, and because he’s been serving for a long time, he takes on the role of teaching you about sparring

always praises you, loves praising you for every little thing

he’s totally not using this as an excuse to be close to you

at one point in time he had you stuck in his grasp and the way he whispers to you is just 😩

(he definitely knows you’re weak for his voice and uses it to tease you)

no matter what happens in training, even if you’re the one who taps out, he will kiss your forehead and say that he’s proud of you

he’s another one that’s extremely aware of how much strength he’s using, but he won’t hesitate to be a little more forceful with you

you need to learn somehow

if you try to kiss him to distract him he’ll chuckle and ease up before getting back to training

he’s such a good teacher that when you’re not training with him you’re winning most of the time against other opponents

he’s so proud :,)

-

rudy

this poor boy is such a soft lover, so the idea of accidentally hurting you is always in the back of his mind

tries to go slow, but sometimes he doesn’t remember his strength and immediately backs out if you let out a small pained noise

hugs you after bc he feels bad

he’s skittish, but overall a good training partner once you two have a talk

uses techniques that alejandro taught him, and tried teaching them to you

he’s not an amazing teacher though…

still praises you

he’s quite young too, but he’s been serving longer so he’s meant to be able to teach you things

however… he still has a lot to learn, so sparring is a learning experience for both of you

wont admit it, but he gets a little jealous when you train with other people

cuddles 100%, cuddling is mandatory after training

if your muscles are strained he’ll give you a massage too bc he’s such a sweetheart

will 100% tell you to go rough with him bc it’s still you learning as a rookie, but if you don’t want to he understands

he just wants you to succeed :)

-

price

this papa bear is the one who offered to train with you

he saw you and gaz mucking about and decided to mentor you, much like alejandro he’s your teacher

gives you genuinely good advice and tips on how to break out of someone’s grasp and take them down

wont go soft on you, but he won’t go too hard either

he knows your limits and adapts around them, therefore he’s a really good teacher

will always assure you that backing down is okay, there’s nothing to kick yourself over

there’s no chance he’d ever actually hurt you, he’s confident in his abilities and knows his strength and limits

however, he can get too rough if you’re seemingly fine, he’s just trying to test you.

if you’re being quiet about him being a little too rough he’ll sense somethings up and encourages you to talk, sparring is meant to be affective and good for both people involved, it’s training after all

will apologise if he accidentally hurt you without realising, even if it’s just a minor bruise

always aspires to get you to the best of the best, wants to watch you rise in ranks because he knows you have what it takes to be an amazing soldier

he’s so good at sparring and enjoys it so much that sometimes it doesn’t even feel like training and wants you to feel the same way, he’ll help as best he can

[al9ayf]

Could I request headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor finding out their f!s/o has suicidal thoughts please?

yay my first bg3 request! hope u enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡ suicidal thoughts | dammon, haarlep, rolan, zevlor w/ f!so

｡˚ explicit content :: thoughts of suicide ofc, mentions of rape

ʚ dammon:

you had known dammon before the fall of elturel and were quite in love. but after the fall, and after you had lost your home, parents, and even dammon for quite a while, everything to your name was POOF gone just like that. and even after returning back to faerûn, it did not make shit any better for you

dammon was by your side the whole time. he gave you so much to care for. you even helped him set up his shop in the druid’s grove, but the happiness did not last long. the thoughts of everything you had being stripped away from you is too much to handle and dammon’s love and kindness cannot fix the thoughts that run through your mind. now with the threat of being kicked out and having to face this vast world with more refugees only makes this sadness worse

you would be better off dead than have to survive in a new hell. you want to see your family again and run to the front door of your house and smell a brewing dinner again. to laugh with your mother and poke fun at your younger siblings. the thought of seeing it again makes the adrenaline rush through you

dammon finds out about all this by accident. you do not confide in him about anything because you are scared to break his heart. you always try to seem okay but dammon knows better. he has seen the hells and seen many slaves there with that look in your eyes. the look of pure release. the glint of sweet death. but he does not confront you about it just yet. he waited another day to see if you will say anything, but night falls and you pretend to be just fine

dammon confronts you with sweet words and comforting arms. he holds you tight because he is afraid that if he lets you go, you will never return to him. the promise of a sweet girl in his arms gone from him forever

“i see it in your eyes. the promise of death, my love. i do not want such a beautiful soul torn from me so fast. not after we had lost everything.”

his words bring you to tears and you collapse. you cry out your confessions to him, and dammon kisses your head and promises to make things right. baldur’s gate is a new beginning and is already so close. your family would have wanted you to keep on living for their memory

dammon’s words comfort you and for the first time in a long while you do not think those thoughts anymore. he holds you tight and promises to always be there for you

ʚ haarlep:

haarlep not gonna give a FUCK 😭

you’re a reoccurring guest at the house of hope. one with many troubles and many, many offers to make raphael very happy. haarlep does not ask how you manage to keep the cambion on his toes, but it is working

occasionally you wait for raphael in the boudoir while haarlep helps you relax. most of the time when he sees you, you’re tense or your head is somewhere else. he helps you take your mind off things rather easily and has even become a great comfort in your life. even the incubus himself has taken a liking to you that he cannot believe

there comes a day where you enter the boudoir to wait for raphael again. haarlep takes you to the bath for a pleasurable experience, but you are far too gone this time. he kisses you and touches you in ways you like, but it barely elicits a reaction from you. finally getting annoyed yet concerned, he pops the question

“do i not please you right, little mouse? or perhaps raphael’s form is not what you need right now, hm?”

he tries to kiss you again, to somehow comfort you, but you place your fingers on his lips and stop him. there, naked in that warm bath with him, you confide in him that troubling thoughts have taken over your mind. that your traumatic childhood and now pathetic life led you to make deals with the devil to keep yourself moving. the only joy you find in life is with haarlep yet the painstaking thought of slitting your own throat is more joyful at times

haarlep did not expect those words to come out of your mouth. it seemed like you did not either. you go to leave when you see the confused look on his face, muttering something about seeing raphael at a later time, but the incubus pulls you back down into the bath and kisses you

he has feelings. although he is an incubus, he has attached himself to you. you are a complicated character and he thinks of it as a challenge he is willing to take on

“do not think because i am an incubus i cannot harbor feelings for you. when the only thing i look forward to is seeing your sad face coming through that door. to enjoy a pleasurable time with you. mind the past and present, and let’s live a future together. the house of hope will bring you just that… and i am also here to bring you a life full of surprises.”

he kisses you again to seal in his words. a change of life would most definitely change you, and although it would be in the house of hope, you could live lavishly like korrilla. a life by haarlep’s side is a life of joy itself

ʚ rolan:

rolan met you at lorroakan’s tower working as an assistant. at first he paid you no mind, not caring who you were. but there was an aura of mystery to you. a hidden sadness

rolan is attracted to you almost immediately. he tries to focus on his apprenticeship with lorroakan, but finds it hard to when all he wants is to be with your beautiful self. to see what magic you can conjure and set his heart aflame

soon enough you find each other entangled in each other’s arm, sharing a night of passionate love and conjoined sadness. you both suffer from the wizard’s abuse, and the both of you will endure it together. yet everyday rolan notices that you have it worse than him in some other way

after the shop closes and rolan heads off to sleep, he hears you in lorroakan’s bedroom. he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he was concerned. and after only listening for a few seconds, he finds himself against the opposite wall panting heavily. his heart aflame in a sorrowful way. so that is what lorroakan does to you at night? the thought of it makes rolan angry. angry at the wizard for having you whenever he wanted to, and angry at himself for not being able to stop it

the next night, rolan knocks on your bedroom door only to have it swing open to reveal an empty bedroom. presumably you are with the wizard again against your wishes, and so he decides to step up and enter the bedroom. there he finds your diary unopened by your bedside table. rolan knows he shouldn’t, but he must. and when he sits on your creaky bed and reads through pages upon pages of hateful words and unthinkable actions, rolan can only throw the book in anger and frustration at the ground

you were beautiful, sweet, and smart. and lorroakan stripped it all from you and left you as a husk. the urge to kill yourself became a line too thin

finally when you return to your bedroom, you break into tears when you are met with rolan. he holds you tight and protectively against your bedroom door. you clutch at his robes and cry into them. you confide in him everything that lorroakan has done to you

“death is kinder than men, and i will embrace it with open arms and sweet kisses…”

your words sting rolan. he knows it is true. you would find a more peaceful life in death, but he loves you so. he caresses your cheek and kisses the top of your head gently. you relax in his arms

“i promise you i will kill him. i will kill him a thousand times over if it could undo all the pain he has inflicted on you. that bastard has what’s coming to him!”

and you trust rolan’s words. you love him so.

ʚ zevlor:

you were amongst the refugees and had known zevlor for a long while. although inexperienced yourself, you swore to him that you would one day be as strong as him and learn how to wield a sword. he was your protector, your leader, and you wanted to show him your thanks and love. long have you loved him, and long has he felt the same

zevlor has comforted you during your lowest days. you lost your home in elturel, and it was difficult to keep on going without support. but he became that support and it made you so happy

after he was taken away by the cultist’s in the shadowlands, you too drowned yourself in your sorrows alongside rolan. you only had zevlor who meant so much to you, and now you have nothing. not even a glimpse of hope of escaping the shadowlands safely or alive. it was eating you up on the inside

after days of feeling hopeless and at a loss, you do not even have the strength to speak. you watch as the adventurer’s help reunite families again and loved ones, yet zevlor is nowhere in sight. it only drags you down deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit. the light starts to get dimmer at the top and to you that is alright. that is what was promised to you back in elturel

you were one of the last people left behind in moonrise towers. you stayed longer to drown in thoughts of how the world no longer mattered. how all family and love you lost in your life could not be found in a city with empty promises. everybody has something there waiting for them. alfira with her bardic school, rolan with his apprenticeship with lorroakan, and even the adventurer’s with their own separate journeys and determination to take down the absolute. what do you have in baldur’s gate? nothing. no family, no love, no home, and certainly no opportunity

you weep in the throne room not knowing that zevlor had managed to find a way out of the illithid colony and back inside moonrise towers. he finds you sitting at the steps leading up to the throne, weeping. when he calls your name with the gentlest voice yet filled with great worry, you jump up in shock to see him there

you at first hug him before he kisses your sweet lips. your heart is pounding at a million beats per minute. all adrenaline is rushing through your blood. he is alive and well. the only man who brings comfort and home to you is alive. there, in his bloody arms, you confide to him that you were ready to end it all. that you would rather die than live a life without him

zevlor yells at you for being so foolish. that there is more to life than just him. but he is your life, and he is the air that you breathe. and he finally understands why you would do such a harmful thing to yourself

he holds you closer to him. and you two don’t say anything. you just hug each other in a silent embrace, finally reconnected after so long of being apart

i hope u enjoyed it !! this was my first time doing headcanons so criticism is very much appreciated. also a reminder that bg3 requests are open <3

[jaylver]

I WANNA BE YOURS — P.SH

synopsis: hiding your secret relationship with sunghoon from your brother, jay, proved to be quite a challenge. that was until you’ve had enough of it, and sunghoon had to prove himself that he wants to be yours.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: brother's best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, humour

warning(s): profanities, slight suggestiveness

wc: 1340

a/n: sorry for the inactivity (currently going insane) !! as promised, here's the hoon drabble, apologies in advance if it's lacking 😭 not my best work imo. will be back after tomorrow since it's my last paper (yay) so please wait for me hehe. as usual, feedbacks and reblogs are much appreciated ! love you all !

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

This was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Who said it would be a good idea to get involved with your brother's best friend? Nobody. Exactly. 

You found yourself somehow being tangled with Park Sunghoon ever since a party your brother and his friends held. He was only two years older than you and you've known him for practically your whole life. Your brother, Park Jong Seong, had known Sunghoon ever since they were kids, so he was definitely far from a stranger. 

Coming around your house almost every day, dinners during festivities, holding parties when your parents were out of town, Sunghoon's always there no matter what the occasion was. It didn't help that he was nice to you too. Constantly giving you friendly smiles and acknowledging you when your brother chased you away during their 'bro time', he was a sweetheart.

Eventually, you knew you were in hell once you discovered your teeny tiny crush on Sunghoon was real and existing. To be fair, he was gorgeous, paired with an even prettier personality. 

Yet, Jay was there to cockblock you and stop your chances. Look, he's a great brother to you, but he made it clear that you were 'off-limits', whatever that was. You couldn't believe it either. 

Being the typical little sister, it was natural to defy your big brother and do exactly what he told you not to.  Unbeknownst to him, you've gone behind his back and got with one of them. That explained why Sunghoon being in your room was wrong, especially when he's in your bed.

"Fuck—what about Jay?" You rasped out in between kisses, feeling the touch of his lips travelling down your throat.

Sunghoon groaned, his hands on your waist tightened momentarily. "He's not going to know I'm in here. I snuck in from your window anyway,"

"He can suddenly barge in,"

"You have your doors locked,"

Those words might seem nonchalant, but it was more than what it meant. 

The times he's spent in your room, knowing each and every part of it, the crevices of your sheets to the feeling of your skin on his. It wasn't just something simple. Neither was the fact of your door always being locked.

"I–I don't know," you suddenly turned uncertain, pushing yourself up and having him stop. 

"Hm? Are you okay? Something's up?" His face morphed into a look of concern, worried at your abrupt change in emotions.

"It's just—" you sighed, not knowing how to approach it, "I wish we could be honest to Jong. I don't want to sneak around anymore, Hoon, it almost feels like you want to keep me a secret,"

"I don't, Y/N, I would never want that," he ran a hand through his hair, proceeding to take yours in his. "I want to be with you, hell, I want to tell everyone that. I wanna be yours,"

"But? What even are we?"

Right, you got to the question that everyone feared.

"Your brother. I don't know when I can do it,"

Frustration etched deeper into your face. "Hoon, if you don't know when you'll do it, then maybe, maybe, you just don't want me like that, or that you're scared to admit your actual feelings and continue to toy me around,"

"No—"

"Goodnight, Sunghoon."

You turned over onto your side, frowning deeply. It was time for him to set his shit right, and he was going to have to figure it out himself. 

The next few times you saw Sunghoon after that night was when he came over to hang out with your brother. He has been texting you, to which you reciprocated dryly. He even got you flowers, your favourite snacks and even waited for you outside your bedroom door, but all of that wasn't enough for you to forgive him.

Why couldn't he just tell Jay the truth? If it was you, you would've already said it, but since Sunghoon was reluctant, you didn't. This was frustrating.

What's more frustrating was having Sunghoon seated next to you at the dinner table during dinner. You could feel him casting glances at you, nervousness emitting from his body quite obviously. 

You were acting nonchalant, almost too nonchalant that it even had Jay casting glances between you and his jittery best friend. However, he said nothing.

"Hoon, pass the salad to Y/N," your brother said from Sunghoon's side, nudging him. You glanced up at the mention of your name, meeting Sunghoon's slightly widened eyes and confused stare. 

"I—uh—here," he took the bowl and passed it to you, chewing the insides of his mouth. 

How could you be mad at him when he looked like that? Sunghoon's starry eyes that never failed to soften your heart, the moles that decorated his face which you've traced in the night when he was asleep, he was your Sunghoon, or so you thought. 

"Thanks," you said softly, offering a smile that he warmly reciprocated. 

As you took the bowl from him, you felt the feather-like touch of his fingers grazing against yours, sending electricity up your senses. You locked eyes with him again, this time an equal want and pining evident in both your gazes.

He was the first to cough and retreat his hold on the bowl. You were snapped out of your momentary daze and also let out an awkward cough, scooping the salad into your bowl to shake off the feeling he gave you just now.

Once dinner was over, you took the very first chance to escape back upstairs, heart beating quicker the way up, and there was probably a reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon.

"Y/N," almost as fast as he had popped into your mind, he appeared behind you, probably followed you up. He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and you turned around, mouth slightly agape. "I figured we should … talk,"

You took in his words, nodding slowly. "We should,"

"I'm sorry," he said without any hesitation, a hint of desperation laced in both his gaze and voice. "I was wrong for not putting a label on our relationship, I should've treated you better, you're everything to me. My heart wouldn't stop beating whenever I see you, you've completely bewitched me, you've drove me insane,"

Sunghoon heaved in a breath, stepping closer. "Secrets I've held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. I told everything to Jay,"

"You—what?"

"I did. I realised what you said was right and I told him. He's cool with it, Y/N," Sunghoon smiled, and it was the same smile he only had whenever he's around you. 

"Really?"

"Really," he intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you close. "I wanna be yours, Y/N. You have my deep devotion, always,"

"Gosh, I want you to be mine—need you. I like you, a lot, like crazy a lot. I wanna be yours too,"

"You genuinely drive me insane," he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, his lips edging closer. "Tell me if I can kiss you, pretty girl,"

He's kissed you many times, but this round, it hits differently. "You can,"

It didn't take Sunghoon another second before crashing his lips onto yours. He was pouring his pent up frustration, angst, desperation, and love into his kiss, almost kissing you as if there was no tomorrow.

As things escalated, you pushed him into your room, letting him spend the night where he smoothly asked you to be his girlfriend, which you agreed to, duh. 

All was well between you and Sunghoon. You even got together and started planning out dates. It was meant to be.

On the other hand, Jay spent the night with music blasting in his ears. He had already suspected something between you and his best friend, but to find out it had been happening for months? It was shocking. But, he wasn't opposed to it.

He just has to make sure to close his eyes whenever you two are around together. Couples, ew.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey

[thebearer]

thinking about teddy or willow calling you baby or honey or something cute instead of mommy because they always hear carmy call you that 😭

OMGGG!!! i feel like carmen calls you "baby" when you're dating and when you're married it's "honey". like he'll kinda bounce back and forth between both but "honey" feels more domestic to him for some reason lol.

"Teddy, can you put your toys away for me, sweet girl?" You coo gently, attempting to chop the apple in front of you. You tried to remember Carmen's pointers about it, but you always ended up letting him do it because he was so fast with it.

You could hear the bustling of toys from the little play house in the living room, looking over your shoulder to see her with her little doll, playing exaggeratedly. You grinned, wiping your hands on the towel by the counter, sneaking out your phone to snap a photo to send to Carmen.

"Teddy," You said, stepping into the living room. Her bright eyes lifting to you, blinking with round eyes so sweet it made you want to melt. "Can you put your toys away so we can have a snack?"

"Yes, honey." Teddy hummed sweetly, putting her toys away in the small box in the corner.

You blinked, a little confused by the name. "What did you say, baby?" You asked gently, sinking to your knees.

"Yes, honey." Teddy repeated, blinking up at you sweetly.

You could feel your chest rush with that familiar heat of adoration. "Are you being silly? Why are you calling Mommy honey?" You grinned playfully, voice lilting in that baby coo.

"Noooo," Teddy giggled, running into your arms, nearly knocking you over when she hugged you. "Daddy says honey. 's your names."

You laughed, hugging her against your chest. You and Carmen both were beginning to learn how observant children were. Teddy caught on to everything- including the word "fuck" which she heard Carmen say once, and seemed to have never forgotten, tormenting him with it every chance she got.

"Daddy does call me honey, doesn't he?" You hum, pressing your nose to her little scalp, pressing kisses there.

"Yeah." Teddy agreed, clinging to your neck.

You carried her to the kitchen, hoisted on your hip, strapping her into her little high chair while you gave her snack to her. You texted Carmen to FaceTime you if he had the chance, babbling back at Teddy sweetly until your phone rang.

"Hey, honey, everything good?" Carmen's face appeared on the other side of the screen, shutting the door to his office when he did.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just... Hold on, listen." You mutter, walking over to Teddy. "Teddy Bear, Daddy's on the phone." You cooed excitedly, grinning at her squeals and shrieks of excitement.

"Teddy, tell Daddy what you've been calling Mommy." You urge lightly, hand running down her curls. Carmen's face falls slightly, the shake of your head assuring him otherwise.

Teddy just blinked, brows furrowed like she had no idea what you were talking about. You gave her a pointed look, brows furrowed playfully. "What does Daddy call me? That you called me earlier?"

Teddy thought for a moment before grinning. "Honey." She smiled when you laughed, nodding. Carmen grinned, watching her grab the phone pulling it to her face. "You call Mama that, Daddy, so-so I calls her honey too." Teddy declared proudly.

"That's right, Teddy. Good job, baby." Carmen cooed, grinning at her little laugh.

You took your phone back, smiling proudly back at him. "When'd she start that?"

"Like twenty minutes ago." You beamed. "I asked her to clean her toys and she goes yes, honey." You giggle. "She's so cute."

"She is." Carmen agreed. "Gets it from you, honey."

"Stop." You roll your eyes, trying to hide your blush. "How's work?"

"Good. Syd said she could handle dinner tonight, so I'm gonna finish prep then should be home early." Carmen hummed, leaning back in his chair.

"Yay. Maybe we could take Teddy down to the square then? She needs new shoes." You grab the wipes off the counter to clean her hands.

"Yeah, we can do that." Carmen nodded. "I gotta go, baby, but I'll see you later."

"Alright. Teddy say bye to Daddy." You coo, smiling at her little trill when she told Carmen goodbye.

"Love you." Carmen grinned at you through the screen.

"Love you, baby. See you later."

[themanwhovibez]

Yeah, so, D-Pax has taken me by the ankles and dragged me off into the deepest pits of no escape. I am fully obsessed to this ship that I changed my Miroah wallpaper and if you know me, Miroah is literally my #1 😭

I am obsessed with this though and I would love any feedback!! Or your own thoughts on it, especially because the images I picked, I tried to make sure they fit the characters 🫶

Artists in order (their Twitter @s):

@//UniverseNira

@//Stttttt5907611

@//Velinxi

@//NamikazeNami1

Edit: The last artist was found yay!!

[thegreatestheaver]

day saved my favorite professor has a class available

planning courses for the next semester is not for the weak

[fanficriter]

Saiki K Boys with a Stoner! S/O

Warnings - Weed (obviously)

Characters - Saiki, Kaidou, Kuboyasu, Saiko

Gender neutral reader

This is my first time writing on tumblr, I apologise if anything’s messed up.

——————————————————————————

Saiki

- He's never tried it, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he just doesn’t care.

- Didn’t really care when he found out, he just shrugged and was like “ok.”

- You offered him some once, he said agreed, so you got stoned together

- “What a pain, I guess it wouldn’t hurt…”

- If he was smoking out of a bong, he definitely felt a bit stupid doing it

- He just kinda stared at the ceiling the whole time

- Doesn’t care if you smoke around him

- Very quiet while stoned

- He also has a bit of trouble controlling his powers

- He didn’t really touch it again after that

Kaidou

- Has never tried it, his mother always told him that he would die if he ever did drugs 💀

- When he found out that you did it, he freaked out because he thought you were gonna die

- “Y/N THAT WILL KILL YOU!! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING?!”

- It took some convincing for him to realise that you were gonna be okay 😭

- He still worries about it occasionally

- When you offered him some, he refused straight away

- One day he got curious, and asked if he could try some

- You gave him an extremely small amount

- He had no idea what he was doing 😭

- When it hit him, he freaked out a little, but calmed down pretty quickly

- Becomes very cuddly when stoned

- After that, he didn’t really touch it that much, he would only do it if you guys were alone

- After a while he didn’t care if you smoked in-front of him, as long as it wasn’t in his house

Kuboyasu

- Used to do it occasionally, but didn’t really touch it when he decided to leave his delinquent life behind 🙏

- He found out when he caught you doing it behind the school once

- “IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LI-“ “Can i have some?”

- He always asks the weirdest questions while stoned (me too bro)

- “Can the grim reaper swim?” (actual question i asked while high)

- Doesn’t care if you smoke around him, he will join you occasionally

- You guys had a competition to see who could smoke the most, you both ended up greening out

- Makes sure your limiting yourself, he doesn’t want you to get addicted

Saiko

- Has never tried it, he thinks it’s for losers

- When he found out you did it, he low key bullied you

- “Seriously? You know you shouldn’t be doing that, right? Where’s your self respect, y/n?”

- When you offered him some, he declined

- “That stuff is for losers!”

- You can smoke around him, but he will scold you and complain the whole time

- He never touched the stuff, and never will

——————————————————————————

Yay I did it!!! Feel free to leave requests in my ask box :3

[glennquackmire]

Oh my gyatt the poll I did got 100% yes this is bananas

Here's more stuff about the diner au yayay

-the diner (juniors)(which was not my name idea it was @/coca-coeli 's and I still think it's so cute) and the socs restaurant (Holdens)(place holder name) were set up around the same time but because the holdens came from wealth they were able to advertise and stuff way more and therefore are more popular

-they were super snobby about it to the curtis parents which is where the rivalry between juniors and holdens comes from

-johnny is fully moved into thr curtis home and has been for abt a year yayyy I have a whole thing on why he moved out if u wanna hear abt it all cause ill forget to mention it 😭

-ponyboy likes 2 sit in the booths and read during his shifts.darry keeps catching him and makes him clean tge diner bathroom as punishment

-dallas has started 18 fires in the diner both on purpose and by accident

-darry hasn't fired him yet because he knows keeping dallas busy washing dishes and starting fires ig at the diner stops him from getting into trouble outside (as much)

Oh yeah I made it into a fake show so here's the episode premises for the fake 1st season

-the diner au is set a year after the death of the curtis parents (everyone's a year older than in the book ie darrys 21 sodas 17 pony's 15 TGERES A REASON FOR THIS I SWEAR

-twobit has a tiktok account set up to advertise the diner but all he does is post vids of himself or him playing roblox

-twobit is also BANNED from choosing the music for the diner

-Darry and paul stupidly got married at 18 😭even tho EVERYONR told them not to and now that they've broken up they can't get a divorce because they'd have to give up half their assets including their food joints and neither are willing to do that ( idk how accurate this is if there's any divorced outsiders fans out there let me know if i was close 🙏🙏)

-they both still carry their rings around w them but deny it

-steve takes his job VERY seriously welcome back carmy!@

-he goes bananas in the kitchen but nobody complains cause he makes the most HEAVENLY chocolate cake he does not play

I've repeated a bunch of these from discord,,ermm sorry

I can't think of anymore pls send asks if ur wondering abt anything pls pls pls I love talking abt diner au

Tgis is super long so I'll stop neow yay

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER FOUR (MONACO)

genre: fluff, angst, etc.

warnings: heartbreak as usual

word count: 5.3k (like, exactly 5.3k. on the word. 😭)

author's note: it feels so wrong to say that im posting this to celebrate ollie's graduation to f1 because... this is such a sad chapter.... pain pain pain for everyone involved (especially ollie) 💔 but yay happy ollie f1 announcement day!!! hope you're all doing well & hope you enjoy <3 (also i wrote a lot of this chapter back in february? and proofreading it today nearly brought me to tears bcs of ollie-)

series masterlist

the career of a racing driver is a roller coaster for everyone involved.

if your name is max verstappen, then you've got more ups than most others. that roller coaster seems pretty fun.

but if your name is y/n harper, then your roller coaster isn't as fun these days. but if there’s ever a place to turn things around, it's monaco.

even just the track walk is enough to bring up your mood after a bad week like last. walking along the monegasque streets, almost getting hit by cars as you sign autographs and take pictures with fans... it's an experience you just can't find anywhere else.

coincidentally enough, ollie is done with the track walk just as you are, which means that the two of you can make your way back to the f2 paddock together. your boyfriend has always loved monaco – he pretty much doesn't ever shut up about the track and it's history unless you tape his mouth shut when you're in the country. that's why it's surprising that he not only brings up another subject, but also that he chooses a quite sensitive one – your father.

"he's going to be here this weekend, right?" ollie asks, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. he seemingly doesn't quite understand just how tense things are with your dad yet. to be fair, it isn't really his fault, since you haven't told him and since he isn't a mind-reader. but still, something in your chest tightens at the way ollie brings him up so casually.

you nod. "you know how much he adores monaco," you say with a sigh, before putting on your best impression of your dad. "the most iconic track ever, the only track to ever... blah blah blah."

having your dad along for races was always a given when you were younger. he was your best helmet carrier, your number-one supporter, and the first person you went to when celebrating or complaining.

but somewhere along the years, having him around started to become more problematic and anxiety-inducing. his support turned into criticism, and it became far more common for him to tell you to "go apologize to the engineers and ask them what you should do to perform better tomorrow" rather than give you any constructive feedback of his own.

at first, it was rough; the man who had always been your pillar to lean on, your main source of support, your safe haven, was seemingly gone. you continued to perform well, though you weren't sure if that was because you wanted to make him proud or if you were terrified of making him disappointed.

"let's have dinner with him someday, then," ollie suggests as the two of you come to a stop right outside the prema garage for the weekend. "maybe sunday, if we have things to celebrate?"

"let's hope so."

pepe calls your name once, twice, thrice, before he resorts to shaking your shoulder gently. his touch, along with the sound of the spaniard's raspy laughter, makes you finally wake from your slumber. you blink up at him, eyes droopy and mind empty. "what?"

"why are you sleeping?" pepe asks, shaking his head. "quali starts in... about an hour."

you begin to slowly push yourself up from the couch you've been lying on, yawning loudly. "i was supposed to just rest my eyes," you start, rubbing your eyes with your hands. "i didn't mean to fall asleep..."

"did you not sleep well last night? were you up late again?" pepe asks as he sits down next to you, watching you stretch your arms over your head with yet another yawn.

what are you supposed to say? yes, i was up until four am because i couldn't find any peace of mind at all? i've been dreading every second of this weekend because i never know when my dad will appear from around the corner? i'm scared he's going to be so mad over my performances that he disowns me?

pepe may know a lot of what's going on with your father, but he doesn't need to know this much.

you did, in fact, meet him earlier today, right before practice – if greeting him briefly and then instantly bolting in the opposite direction counts as a "meeting" – but since then, he's been nowhere to be seen. not even around dino or ollie when you last saw the two of them.

pepe takes your silence as an answer in itself, and he lets out a hum. "well, i'm quite nervous myself," he says frankly, pulling a hand through his hair.

"you did so well here last year, though." you nudge his shoulder with yours. "you'll be great again, i'm sure of it."

"dinner with the prince on sunday? both of us?"

you nod, shooting your friend a smile. "of course." but despite how much you wish it would become a reality, there's not even the slightest trace of faith in you. the only thing you can think about is how likely it is for this round to go in the same footsteps as your recent ones.

a great attitude to bring into a race weekend.

p9.

a top ten placement, sure. second in the reverse grid, sure. but other than that, there's not much positive in it. it's a step in the right direction, but in some way, it feels like a step that's way too short.

the sprint race starts with an incident right by you on the track, which is extremely unlucky for you since you get pretty much blocked and have nowhere to go. after being passed by several cars, the safety car finally comes out, and you find yourself in p7.

of course your father's words echo in your head all the way through the safety car period. "starting p2 means a free podium," he had told you when he stopped by right before you were getting into your car. "don't mess it up."

you're so focused on that expression on his face, the way he tilted his chin up and his head slightly to the side as he spoke, and the way it felt like your heart stopped beating for a few seconds, that you don't even realize that your engineer has told you about the safety car being about to end. you don't even acknowledge the fact that the race leader has taken off, nor that the rest of the field starts pushing again before it's too late.

some blue car tries to overtake you on the outside, and with another car on your inside you have no chance of giving either of them space – and you manage to crash into them both. not only did you ruin your own race, but also two other drivers'.

and of course, one of the cars buried into the wall next to yours is a silver hitech with a big number 17 on it.

climbing out of your car, you can hear several voices calling out for all three of you from the grandstand nearby, and you consider throwing them a wave as you climb through the metal fence to get off the track. but then, you hear one voice that's more familiar – one that belongs to the last person you want to talk to right now. "are you alright?"

you almost don't look at him, but the little glance you shoot him is enough to take in every single bit of disappointment in his eyes. what are the odds that your dad was sitting in the grandstand right where you crashed?

a nod is enough of an answer you reckon, pulling your helmet off your head and beginning to walk the way towards the paddock again. "do you want me to carry that?" your dad asks, having gotten past the security guards after showing his pass, now jogging to catch up with you.

"i'm not ten anymore," you groan. "i can handle it on my own."

"i wasn't saying you can't-" he cuts himself off, placing a hand on your shoulder. "you looked really out of it out there."

you keep your gaze forwards so he won't see you rolling your eyes at his words, determined steps carrying you forward quickly as you shake his hand off. "oh, you could see through my visor? that's cool."

"what's gotten into you lately?" your dad pushes, and you flinch slightly at the harsh tone in his voice. "what's wrong with you?"

"what do you mean?"

"well, frankly, your driving had been shit recently." your eyes snap to him when he speaks, eyebrows furrowed. "it looks like you're not even trying."

you stay silent for a long while, trying to navigate your way back – and to a place where your dad hopefully won't be allowed – but you can't help but scoff. "thank's a lot."

"what? am i wrong?"

"yes, you're wrong!" you finally stop in your tracks, fully facing him by now. a hand goes up to your hair, pulling on it to relieve at least some tension. "i'm trying my best, i-"

"is there something going wrong with ollie?" your jaw drops. "i'll talk to him, i'll settle it with him."

"don't you dare!" you exclaim. "there's nothing wrong with ollie, okay?!"

"then what is wrong with you? why can't you score ten points in nine races?"

that's it – you're going to completely lose it if this goes on for even one more second. "leave me the fuck alone," you tell him, turning your head away so he won't get a chance to see the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

the worst part of it all? the fact that you agree with him. the fact that you can't even argue against it; nine points in five rounds is not a good result at all.

surprisingly enough, he doesn't follow you when you hurry away, allowing you to get to the paddock alone. the silence doesn't mean you can hold back from crying, however; it doesn't take long before your cheeks are stained with your tears, your breaths growing quicker and quicker for every step you take. navigating the paddock with blurry vision is hard, and you're basically just relying on muscle memory to take you back to the right part of the garage. just as you're rounding a corner, you bump into someone – someone whose white suit and broad, muscular shoulders are easy to recognize even through your tears.

the other last person you want to talk to right now.

"hey there," he says, a hand coming up to your shoulder to keep you steady as you stumble a little upon the impact with his chest. "are you- woah, are you crying?"

"leave me alone, paul."

he lets out a little chuckle, one he regrets in hindsight because it makes him sound like he thinks the state you're in is funny. "i can't just walk away when you're this upset, can i?" he asks, having to use all of his willpower to hold back from wiping away a few tears from your cheeks. "is it about the crash? i'm not mad at you, and i don't think victor is either-"

"i couldn't care less about the stupid crash!" you explode, a few sobs following your words. "i'm just- i can't-"

paul's eyes widen in surprise at your outburst, hand on your shoulder slipping further along so he's got his arm draped across your shoulders and it's easier for him to force you to walk with him. now it's your turn to have to hold back, wanting nothing more than to lean into his chest and just let out all of your tears. he pushes you with him into the hitech truck, looking around the lounge area to make sure no one's there before guiding you to sit on one of the sofas there. "what's going on? did something happen?"

"i'm a bad driver, that's what happened." paul slumps into the seat right next to you, eyebrows raised when he hears you speak. "i don't belong here, i don't know what i'm doing, i-"

"hey hey hey," he cuts you off with a shake of his head. "what have we said about this?"

you look down at the floor, wiping away a few tears from your cheek as you continue to sniffle in the silence that fills the area. a burning feeling spreads through your chest at his words, the familiarity of it all making your head spin. it isn't the first time you've been like this in front of him; through the almost entire year you dated, there were quite a few times when he'd have to console you after a breakdown. paul knows your issues like the back of his hand, he knows how hard it can be to convince you that you do belong. but he also knows to never give up.

"you are a great driver," he starts, hesitating for a moment before letting his hand rub your shoulder. the action makes your breath hitch in your throat, but not because it's wrong – it's because you've missed his touch, probably far more than you've admitted to yourself before now.

"even my lousy dad thinks i'm bad," you finally get out in-between sniffles, resting your face in your hands.

"and since when do you care about his opinion, huh?"

he's right. at least partially. but still, you remain hunched over, shaking your head. "i may act like it doesn't matter, but… him calling me all kinds of things…" paul allows you to gather your thoughts, his touch remaining gentle over your racing suit. "it hurt. a lot."

he hums understandingly, letting out a sigh. "when is that stupid little brain of yours going to understand that you're doing well?" his words should bring a smile to your lips – a few months ago, they would've. but now, you don't react at all. "no matter what he says, no matter what the critics say. you're a good driver."

after another few moments of silence, you drop your hands to your lap and look at him. there's a hint of curiousity in his eyes, surprised by your sudden eye contact. "why do you even care?" you question. he's been acting like a complete idiot these past few months – and after you literally cursed him out in melbourne, you haven't spoken a word to each other. and yet, he's taking time out of his day to comfort you like he would a year ago.

"come on…" he presses his lips together in a firm line, shaking his head. "no matter what happens between us, i'll always look after you."

his words, and maybe especially your emotional reaction to them, take you by surprise. despite the anger and frustration you've built up over the last few months, there's an undeniable warmth in his gaze that softens your defenses. the feeling of nostalgia and longing is so strong it's almost painful, as if he has reminded you of a connection you thought had been lost forever.

it's quite strange, considering everything that's happened. but you're not opposed to it.

"how are you feeling after the crash?" paul asks to break the silence as you reach up to dry away the last of your tears from your cheeks. "that was a big impact you had. i got away lightly in comparison."

for the first time since the crash, you stop to actually think about it and allow yourself to feel through your body. the adrenaline from the race has worn off by now, and there's a throbbing in your head that seems to just grow stronger by the second. "i think… i'm alright…"

"do you want me to go get ollie for you? the race should be done by now," he says, checking the clock on the wall in the truck. "he can take you to go see a medic."

you shake your head instantly. "please, don't. for real."

paul shoots you a strange, confused look, though he gives you a slight nod. "okay, but you have to tell him," he says, pausing a second before continuing. "i know that head of yours, you're going to combust if you keep hiding this. you can't go through it alone."

"i promise."

you don't end up going to the medical center.

you do, however, go find ollie yourself – but you don't tell him about your chat with paul. instead, you hope he doesn't take notice of the not-so-subtle signs that you've just had a complete meltdown.

it's easy to break promises to people who you don't need to stay truthful to, you realize. last year, you wouldn't even think about breaking a promise to paul – but an ex boyfriend is much easier to lie to.

your current boyfriend wraps his arms around you the second you step close enough. his lips press to the side of your head, his arms giving you another squeeze before pulling away.

ollie has gotten used to your red eyes.

he's gotten used to the sight of your tearstained cheeks, the slight pout on your lips, the heaviness in your sighs.

he's gotten used to the sinking feeling in his stomach, the pain in his chest, the guilt.

but he's also gotten used to not asking, because he knows you won't tell.

when you wake up on feature race day, something is different. it's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders after talking to paul; like the air is suddenly much easier to breathe, and the whole world seems a little lighter. you're much more excited for the feature race of the day than any race so far this season.

in today's race, it's ollie's time to crash out. it isn't his fault, though; he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and got squeezed up against the wall by a trident car. there was nothing he could do.

as soon as he's deemed free of injuries, he makes his way back to the prema garage, joining the team in watching the rest of the race. it's a good one for you; choosing to go with the opposite strategy has really worked out for you so far, with you and zak o'sullivan being the only two drivers in the top who haven't pitted yet.

ollie follows your car intently on the screen in the garage, secretly hoping for a safety car to come out and help you out with your strategy as it's nearing the last few laps. he almost doesn't pull out of his trance even when a hand lands on his shoulder. "she's doing great," dino says from behind him, the brit nodding along to his words. "especially considering... well, she must've told you about yesterday, so i won't repeat it to you."

yesterday?

ollie looks dumbfounded for a moment before he composes himself, though he has no idea what the swede is talking about. "of course."

dino lets out a chuckle, patting his friend's shoulder. "paul said she was a complete mess when he found her," he continues, not realizing he's giving ollie more clues to help figure out what in the world he's talking about. "her anxiety was all over the place, apparently. but she's recovering, she's strong. she won't let this affect her."

ollie hums agreeingly at his words, eyes still glued to the tv in front of him. "certainly," he finally gets out. "she'll get through it with ease."

and so you did – at least for this particular race.

the virtual safety car was incredibly lucky, but that's racing sometimes. with both you and zak changing your tyres in the last lap, you both managed to end up ahead of the rest of the field, and secure a podium each.

unlike in jeddah, seeing paul's car pull up right next to yours on parc ferme isn't all that bad. after yesterday's heart-to-heart with him, you feel like at least part of this podium is thanks to him. if it weren't for his encouragement, you likely would've stuck it in the wall again.

you don't ignore him this time. you don't scoff at his words, you don't feel frustrated at his mere presence. this time, you give him a tight hug when he comes over to congratulate you, arms around his shoulders forcing him close.

"thank you," you can't help but whisper, and paul is grinning from ear to ear when he pulls away from the hug.

"don't," he answers with a quick shake of his head. "you could always pull this off. you just needed a little reminder."

and not only do your shoulders and mind feel a bit lighter as you step onto that monaco podium, but most importantly, your heart.

"i'm exhausted," you huff as you shrug your bag off your shoulders, leaving it by the door as ollie, too, makes his way into the hotel room. "thank god this weekend is finally over."

you dive onto his already-made bed, landing face-down between the pillows and blankets. the bed is huge, probably over two meters in width, and unbelievably soft. it's the first time you feel like you can truly relax since you got to monaco, and every single cell in your body thanks you for allowing them to rest a little.

"and i don't even have any sim sessions scheduled in over a week. i'm the luckiest person ever." ollie lets out a chuckle at this, his own bag crashing to the floor with a thud before his feet carry him deeper inside the room.

you turn your head and watch as he picks out a water bottle from the mini fridge, but he doesn't drink from it. instead, he makes his way to the bed, choosing to just stand next to it at first. you can't really read his expression, so you speak up – but he beats you to it. "ollie-"

"can we talk?"

you press your hands into the mattress, sitting up properly. "of course," you say, a look of unknowing dejection spreading across your features. "what's wrong?"

"that's... what i wanted to ask you, actually." ollie finally sits down on the bed, but on the opposite side of it, far from you. "what's going on? what happened yesterday?"

"oh, well..." you pause for a second, eyebrows rising as you try to find an explanation. "i just had a bad day, i didn't realize that the safety car-"

"i don't mean the race, i mean what happened after the race." his eyes are piercing into yours, not missing even the slightest movement of your face now. you've got his full attention. "with paul."

your breath hitches in your throat and you instantly look away. your voice is as low as a whisper when you speak again. "i can't believe he told you..."

"he didn't. it was someone else, but that's beside the point." you don't know if you should feel relieved that paul didn't tell ollie, or furious that he told someone else who then told ollie, but you don't have any time to think before his voice infiltrates your thoughts again. "i heard you were... i'm not going to use the same word he did, but i heard you were really upset. something about anxiety, or..."

he hopes you'll pick up where he trailed off, and despite how you're really not in the mood for this conversation right now, it feels unavoidable. "i guess... yesterday's race was really rough on me. and my racing has felt really bad recently, the anxiety has been through the roof, and..." your eyes land on your hands, watching as your fingers tremble slightly in your lap. "i don't know. something about yesterday just triggered it all again."

out of the corner of your eye, you can see ollie nodding understandingly. "how long have you been feeling like this?"

"since always, basically." a single teardrop rolls down your cheek before you even notice that you've started tearing up. you hurry to wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. "my mom likes to tell this story about how i used to cry if i performed poorly when i was jumping rope in kindergarten. or about how one time, i came home sobbing over the fact that i thought i was getting kicked out of kindergarten because my drawings weren't as good as the other kids'." the old stories bring a soft smile to your lips, one that soon disappears when you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut. "it's not usually this bad, but…"

you sigh.

"it's like... imposter syndrome. i'm one of the very few women in motorsports, and i can't help but think that i'm just here because the fia wants to make the sport more equal. or because my sponsors think it's funny to have a woman among the men. or if i'm just here as eye candy. i don't deserve this, i don't have enough talent."

your little rant makes him speechless – both because he didn't expect it at all, and because to him, you're so wrong.

"you're here because you do deserve it and because you consistently perform good results, unlike most other drivers. that has nothing to do with your gender." ollie pauses for a second. "if you didn't have enough talent, you wouldn't be performing this well in a series this hard."

you can't hold back the little smile that slips onto your lips. "this is all very sweet, and i really appreciate it. but it's not that easy for me to just accept what you're saying."

yet again, he nods. "i understand." his voice is so calm, so gentle, so patient. it makes your heart soften. "i'll make sure to remind you of it more often, so that maybe it sticks."

"thank you, ollie."

a long silence follows, and you take the time to brush away a few more tears that have left your eyes. you don't know what to say or how to follow up on this heavy subject, but you don't have to think much more.

"why did you go to paul instead of me?"

your eyes dart to him at the sudden question. he's sounded so composed and calm, but he actually looks quite... nervous? his fingers are fiddling with the lid of the water bottle in his hands, and his entire upper body looks like it's trembling slightly as he breathes. "i didn't," you tell him simply. it's not a lie, per se. "he just happened to walk in on me crying."

"but why did you tell him?" ollie questions, looking up at you from the bottle. "i thought you two weren't even talking these days? ever since that fight you had?"

he is right. you don't even know why you confided in him yourself – it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. you didn't even try to deny his help; you welcomed it (and him) with open arms.

"we talked about my struggles last year," you finally say, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. "so he knew already. and… i don't know, i guess it felt nice to talk to someone who really knows me."

"but i want to know you." he takes a deep breath before continuing. "i want to know more than your birthday and your favorite color. i want to know it all; what makes you feel good, what makes you anxious, what keeps you going, what slows you down..."

the physical distance between you two may only be a mere two meters, but you feel much more separated than that. you totally understand where he's coming from – he might be exaggerating a little, but your conversations with him are never really deep. though not sure whether it's because you just don't trust him or because you just have a hard time opening up, you can understand the despair he must be feeling.

when ollie notices that you aren't too keen on saying anything, he keeps going. "i want you to trust me. i want to be the person you tell these things to." he scoots closer to you on the bed, one of his hands landing on top of your knee. "i really want to make this work between us. my feelings for you are so strong, just..."

the pain in his eyes is so intense it sends a shiver down your spine, his gaze cutting through you like a knife. your own eyes begin to well up again, but you can't look away now.

"i really want you to give this, give me, a chance."

you've never seen him like this before. hopeless, desperate, practically begging. and in an instant, the guilt comes creeping back into you.

you're the one who's making him feel like this; it's all your fault. and how cruel wouldn't it be to not at least give him an honest chance?

"of course." your voice is weak and shaky, but you nod. "i want that, too. really."

ollie drops his water bottle to the floor before opening his arms wide for you. "come here."

it's easy to climb into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he holds you close. it's easy to lean into him, to inhale his sweet scent, and it's so easy to relax.

you wish it was as easy to open up to him. oh, how badly you wish it was as easy as a-b-c or do-re-mi. you really want to let him in; you, too, want this to work.

the silence that follows is a comfortable one. the air feels thick with unspoken emotions, a heaviness of the previous conversation still lingering, but there's an unspoken understanding between you and ollie. the previously well-known weight of the world on your shoulders seems to lift, if only momentarily; his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back is like a silent reassurance that he's there, he's present, and he's willing to wait for you to open up in your own time.

after what feels like an eternity, ollie breaks the silence. "let's do something. let's go on a vacation together."

you lean back slightly, just enough to look at his face but stay in his hold. "…what?"

your reaction isn't exactly what he had hoped for, but he goes on. "i'm going back to italy this week, you should come with me." he reaches up with a hand to your face, thumb softly massaging away the frown you hadn't even noticed had formed. "we'll travel around, go see the national parks, hike in the mountains... swim in the sea, eat at good italian restaurants..."

your features soften at his suggestions; it all does sound very sweet. still, you can't hold back from asking, "but why?"

"we have almost a month until the next race weekend, and you said that you don't have any sims this week. this could help take your mind off racing, and..." a sheepish smile appears on his face. "maybe it could make us get a little closer."

uncertainties and conflicting thoughts continue to cloud your heart, making the decision harder than it should be. on one hand, accepting the offer could offer a much-needed reprieve from all the pressures of the racing world. on the other hand, your unresolved feelings for paul still hold you back. spending a romantic holiday with ollie sounds like a dream, just as much as the mere thought of revealing yourself to him makes you nauseous from the fear.

but you want to be brave. and maybe to let go of paul, you need to just forget about your worries and dive head-first into ollie.

"it sounds perfect. let's do it."

yourusername just posted!

yourusername we're back baby!! leaving monaco with some good points. 🔜 barcelona and the team's home race, let's go 😁

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user finally back on the podium! ❤️💙

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user great drive today !!!

→ user it was just luck 😭 without the vsc she would've never gotten that podium

→ user okay and??

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olliebearman what's up with the hair dinobeganovic_

→ yourusername it's called fashion

→ dinobeganovic_ it's called waking up at 5 for a feature race

→ user you're still gorgeous dino 😚

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redbulljuniorteam 💪💙❤️

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sebasmontoya58 pepe don't punch the girl, she did nothing wrong

→ yourusername i did nothing wrong!!!

→ pepemartiofficial tell him what you did

→ yourusername never

→ pepemartiofficial sebas check your whatsapp

→ yourusername YOU WOULDNT

→ pepemartiofficial i totally would

[stvrl0st]

GUYS. can someone tell me if I'm wrong or right to age myself up in my fame dr😭 yeah ik ikkkk

it usually does not bother me but I saw a video (yeah shifttok might have gotten to me. I'm so fucking ashamed. BUT ITS ONLY THIS SPECIFIC THING) anyhooo so we're all aware my s/o in almost every dr is in his 30s right?? mkay yay so idk is it wrong for me to age myself up to 33😭⁉️⁉️