#to the point where if it gets removed you die

[darkbluekies]

Edmund coming home to a darling who keeps having "nightmares" but one day he sees a bruise and finds out the maids have been hurting her, causing her to cry

"Name"

Yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: Edmund realises that the maids have been bullying you behind his back ... and he's furious.

Warnings: bruises, bullying, threats of harm and murder, jealousy, darling feels responsible/guilty for their deaths, guilt, mention of murder, possessiveness

Word count: 1.8k

He’s had to work night multiple weeks in a row, leaving you alone in the bed chamber for hours before he joins you, often in the transition between night and the cold hours of the morning. It had been fine in the beginning. Dare you admit you even found it a bit therapeutic? Being alone for once, without him, where else he’s breathing down your neck like some kind of puppy. 

But then it had shifted. The maids who usually patrolled the corridors started sneaking in when it was clear that Edmund wouldn’t come. At first they talked to you about mindless things that seemed harmless, but you could feel something in the air. That feeling, the one where you know the second you part ways, they’ll start talking. Laughing. Mocking. They always asked you about your background, made comments about your clothes and jewelry. Never any direct critiques, but not any compliments either. A grey zone that made your stomach uneasy.

The talking didn’t last long. In a matter of a few days, it shifted. Evolved to something worse. Darker. They have started to mock you to your face when no one else hears, and hit you when you cry. You don’t dare say anything back, just take it … knowing very well what will happen with them if Edmund gets to hear you shout. So every night you bite your lips shut and take it. 

A part of you screams that you should tell Edmund. Let them die, let them see you’re not someone one can mess with and get away with … if only if it wasn’t for the fact that they will die. Edmund’s not a half-assed guy. His love is never a “I would kill for you”-mantra. He has, and will undoubtedly, kill for you again. Over and over. He’d kill anyone you point at, if you wanted to. And oh, how it makes you feel dirty. You’re not the one pulling the trigger or swinging the sword, but you’re the commander. The reason why. In some capacity, you would be a murderer. 

It doesn’t matter how much you hate these women. Death—murder—is never a justified punishment. Not for jealousy. They deserve to be removed and possibly punished, but not killed. Never killed. Their deaths will wreck the lives of innocents who have nothing to do with their behaviour. And you will be blamed. 

You look down at your arms. The darkness hides the marks, but you feel them like bleeding, salt infected wounds. Edmund hasn't noticed. When he comes to bed it's dark enough to hide them. In daylight they're hidden under your extravagant dresses, thanks to Edmund's modesty rules. 

Maybe you want him to notice. Maybe you want a reason to tell, to get comforted and reassured that their words aren't true. To have someone on your side. Maybe you want him to never find them. 

You sob, pulling the covers closer to your body. They've left for the night. You should lay down and try to sleep, or at least pretend to. But you're unable to. Your body refuses to move from its sitting position. If you lay down and they come back you're powerless. Three against one. One laying down. Easy to overpower.

You're not sure what you're most scared of them doing to you. Cut your hair to the scalp? Touch your features and make you unrecognizable? Too ugly to be attractive to him? They've threatened it one time— “what if we just decide to break your nose? Your jaw? Who'll love you then, your majesty? You'll be thrown to the slums, like everyone else. You're not untouchable just because he finds you pretty. That ‘prettiness’ can easily be taken from you.”

Or are you more afraid of them killing you? They've gotten worse over the days. A quick slippery slope down to madness wouldn't be impossible. They could easily pin you down and slit your throat, stab you.

You’re too in your own head to hear the door opening. 

“You’re still awake?” 

Edmund’s voice rips you out of your thoughts. You gasp, breath getting caught in your throat. Your hands are about to move up to your cheeks to wipe your tears, but you know he’ll catch that. Instead you turn your head away slightly, hoping the darkness will hide the tears streaks. His footsteps seem to echo behind him. 

“My jewel, you’re supposed to be asleep by now”, Edmund says and you feel the bed shift as he sits down. “Having trouble sleeping?”

You nod without looking at him. It has the opposite effect you wish for. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” 

His fingers touch your cheek, turning your head to him. You’re unable to stop it. You meet his eyes, those ice blue ones that seem to glow in the dark, and feel yourself crumble under his gaze. Your eyes fill, once again, with new tears. Edmund’s jaw clenches and he quickly moves closer. 

“What is it?” he asks, voice tight. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, lowering your chin. Edmund’s eyes start to wander, desperately looking for clues. His eyes stop at a particularly dark spot on your shoulder, just below the neck line of the flowy night gown. His fingertips touch it gently, as if trying to see if it’s real, and you flinch away before you can react. 

“Y/N …”, Edmund breathes out. “What the hell? Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”

When you don’t answer, he shifts closer. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin as he brings a small, electrical lamp close enough to see the bruise clearer. There’s only a word leaving his throat, but it is enough. “Name.”

“No.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“It won’t solve it.”

“It will. It’ll stop them from hurting what’s mine. Give me the name.”

You turn your head down, looking at your hands trembling in your lap. 

“It’s not ‘the’ name—”

“There’s more?” His voice has a sharper edge. “Okay then, give me their names.”

“I don’t want blood on my hands.”

“There won’t be any blood on your hands. Only mine. No one else is allowed to touch you. Nothing else, is allowed to. And if you don’t tell me who gave you these ugly marks I will hunt them down, and I’m sure a few innocent will be struck that way. Give me the cowards names. Do you think a king will let his queen be hurt by unworthy?”

You don’t answer. The sobs come back, rippling through you. You’re on the edge now, so close to ending someone’s life. You have the gun in your hand and all you need is to pull the trigger … or put it down. But if you put it down, he’ll pick it up and shoot without hesitation. As long as you hold the gun … nothing happens.  

“Gosh, these marks makes me nauseous”, Edmund gags as he holds your arm in his hands. He has pulled up the sleeve to get a good look at them. “So brutal.”

“Please don’t look.”

“Tell me their names. My pretty jewel, tell me their names. Please, Y/N. Tell me who did it.”

You shake your head again, sobbing. Edmund sighs heavily. 

“Can you at least tell me how long it’s been going on?” he asks, and you can hear the frustration in his voice, even if half of it is pure worry. 

“Since you started working night”, you mumble, hiccuping through sobs. 

“Since I started work— … you have to be kidding me?”

You shake your head. Edmund bites back a scream and looks around, as if trying to find something to ground himself on.

“So, people have been coming in here when you’re alone and hurt you?” he asks, voice shaking. “And you’ve been silent about it? It’s been two weeks. Why haven’t you said anything?!”

“Because I’m scared, Edmund …”

His eyes immediately soften. Not to a gentle one, but one that isn’t piercing. He pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Y/N, darling”, he says with his trembling voice. “I’m the king. I am the highest power in this kingdom, yeah? You are my wife, correct? You are the safest person in this country. But I can’t help you if you refuse to tell me when someone is hurting you.”

“You will kill them.”

“Damn right I will. That’s what happens when people think they can touch what’s mine. Touching you is a war crime and I will not let them get away with it.”

He cups your wet cheek, turning you to him. 

“Who hurt my pretty girl?” he whispers sorrowfully. 

Your finger trembles on the imaginary trigger. And, before you can register it, you press. 

His face lights up—not in a happy way, but relief. He’s about to fly up form the bed, but you grab his arm. 

“No, no, Edmund please!” you plead, voice breaking with sobs. “Don’t leave me!”

“I will get those bitches for this”, he tells you, his voice now a venomous deadly calm. “I will snap their necks myself.”

“No … no please, don’t go.”

You hug his arm, pleading over and over again. Edmund seems torn between revenge and protection, but in the end he gives in and climbs back into the bed, pulling you flush against him. 

“Fine”, he gives in, squeezing your trembling form. “I will let them have their final night … but tomorrow they’ll get what they deserve. For now I’ll take care of my beautiful queen.”

He kisses the top of your head. 

“I will never let those creatures near you again", he promises, showering your face in kisses. Too soft for his usual behaviour. “They don’t deserve to touch you. Only I am. I am the only one worthy enough to touch you. To kiss you. To hold you. To be near you. To see you. Tell me what they did to you.”

So you do. His grip on you tightens for everything you tell him, but his lips never leave your skin. They burn. 

“I’ll enjoy tomorrow morning”, he decides, moving even closer to you, snuggling. “I’ll kill them slowly—well, if you can snap someone’s neck slow—and enjoy every bit of it.”

He holds you close, running his fingers through your hair. You feel his cold, golden rings against your scalp. Your face is tucked beneath his chin, against the warmth of his neck. It’s as if he wants to pull you into him, become one with him. As if you’re only safe if you’re beneath his skin. 

“You’re so soft in my arms”, he whispers. “Really soft. Only mine.”

He hums and rests his cheek against your hair, falling asleep. But you? You won’t sleep for a long time. Relieved that you no longe have to carry it yourself … guilty that you’ve pulled the trigger. But you wouldn’t have won anyway. He always does. He always gets what he wants in the end … and this time, it’s to protect you. 

[that-one-dork]

Do yall fw Jaime Reyes Blue Beetle

Design mostly referenced from his DCAMU model

[wackywatchdotcom]

Rewatching episode one, I noticed that when Ragatha and Jax are talking to each other about Jax having a key, Pomni flinches away from, and lifts her arms to protect her face and head, when Jax toys with the key and catches it near her.

I wonder if she is that jumpy around others normally or if it's just when she's in a stressful situation (like suddenly being trapped in the circus) what do you think?

OK. ok. you mention this. and ive never said anything about it but i have genuinely noticed this almost every time ive seen that scene. i think about it a LOT but i havent been able to figure out my thoughts on it. but i think about it genuinely a LOT...

(i went on a huge tangent abt her thats like. only sporadically related to this specific moment SORRY. it was hard to address this moment without discussing a LOT about her i feel)

for the sake of clarity in the event someone reading this is unfamiliar, what this ask is referring to is this:

with the way that she so quickly dissociates and HARD (not that most people Never experience dissociation or smth, but its the intensity of it and how quick into this situation she starts dissociating is like. it makes it seem like its smth her body and mind are Used To Doing) she REALLY gives off the feeling that she had pre-existing mental health problems (i struggle to place anything TOO specific with the limited information we have but i feel like theres definitely a few things she has going on) before she even got to the circus, and like she COULD just be a naturally jumpy person, but with the dissociation thing and general distrust towards others, it feels like her jumpiness is also related to these issues

while her being naturally nervous is sort of implied and clear (though i think the extent of it is exaggerated by the circumstances of the pilot in particular) there ARE a few other examples that stand out to me

i THINK this can largely be passed off as her just being on edge from the horror adventure, but i this is IS notable that she reacts genuinely pretty strongly to what is a relatively minor 'jumpscare.' it happens later too w kinger pressing the tape recorder

in general she seems VERY easily startled by people, and frankly it reads a lot like it stems more from people being near her than just things happening abruptly. she notably doesnt jump hard when the angel arrives- she DOES get scared, but she isnt necessarily startled. she DOES react very strongly to ghostly, but i think its notable that she seems to find his visual appearance frightening and debatably not necessarily startling, but thats not really 100%. the times she reacts the strongest have to do with people, which imo ties HARD into her not trusting people

episode 2 breaks down her distrust of people well, and i dont think its a self consciousness thing. it seems more that she just doesnt tend to find people trustworthy- if something bad was happening to her, she would sooner assume theyd let it happen rather than help her. it could be argued that its partially a guilt or projection thing with ragatha, but im not actually so sure. pomni seems to be ashamed of leaving her behind, but particularly through ep 2 she doesnt seemed Plagued With Guilt by the way she acts towards ragatha, which implies that the dream didnt have to do with her projecting that shame in a way shed assume ragatha would turn back on her, too

it instead seems to be that she doesnt trust ragatha just... in general. the 'im not a child' thing, while a legitimate problem for pomni to have with ragatha (i love ragatha, and from my place in the audience i know her concern is genuine, and that she truly wants to encourage pomni, and is trying, but from the perspective of people around ragatha, its not an unreasonable assumption that shes JUST being infantilizing and belittling), does illuminate how pomni is seeing ragathas attempts at cheering her up- that it comes from a place of seeing pomni as immature or generally unstable. that pomni is incapable of managing herself and needs to be coaxed. it implies pomni doesnt see ragathas attempts at help as genuine. combined with her dream, that ragatha would allow the worst to happen to her even when she was asking for help, makes it very clear that, even with the 'nicest' person in the circus, pomni just... doesnt really trust her

(it is worth noting that pomni DOES seem to genuinely want to help ragatha in the pilot. she DID try to find caine. but she bolts at the first opportunity. she does care about people, but when stressed, she operates on keeping herself safe first and foremost, that she needs to do anything to get out of a bad situation even if that means leaving someone behind- and with her dream, it does seem that she generally assumes other people operate similarly, or otherwise in their own best interest)

this does, of course, improve by the end of eps 2 and 3. the funeral, and ragatha offering to include her, and how the others talk about abstracted players (combined with her conversation with gummigoo, someone who she has to assure has genuine friendships with those around him despite the lack of a true reality for them to be based upon), are able to convey that oh, these people do actually care about the people around them. theyre being genuine. they arent just looking out for themselves and thats it- they care when bad things happen to each other. and theres no true reason for me to be an exception. which is ALSO why i dont think its a self consciousness thing, she seems able to reason that shes not an exception to the intents of others, so much that when she cant assure herself that others' intents hold her safety as any sort of priority as well, any trust goes out the window. she WANTS to help if she can, but esp in the pilot, as far as shes concerned, its everyone for themself when shit gets bad, including herself

ep 3, she seems more trusting of ragatha- she has neutral and positive interactions w her, rather than assuming a lack of sincerity in it. but its not just ragatha, actually, because even before her talk with him, you can see it in how she interacts with kinger as well

she initially tries to help him run, which isnt too out there- with how she genuinely DID initially try to help ragatha, it doesnt require her to go out of her way to grab him and RUN. she can run AND take him with her. she can help without putting herself in extra danger. but then she DOES go back, which is one of my favorite and imo underrated pomni moments. because THIS is what i think actually highlights an improvement in how she sees the others before her apologizing to ragatha or taking kingers hand. because she puts herself BACK into (percieved, since its not actual sure WHAT the angels intentions were her) danger in order to get kinger away too

(theres probably a case to be made that ragatha didnt seem to be in immediate danger- she was in pain, that much was clear, but kaufmo had ran away by then. but even still, pomni couldnt have known kaufmo would shift gears and start chasing her instead of ragatha that first time. and i dont know if she actually knew death wasnt possible here yet. which isnt very flattering for pomni but also people do not act in flattering ways under extreme stress, esp given a predisposition to not trusting others, which ill elaborate more on in a second here- not that pomnis abandonment was ok OR that it was like evil of her or smth. shes just a person. there is no way she was prepared to know how to act correctly in this situation, and she didnt)

theres also this

which is SUBTLE but highlights a genuine increase in trust even before their heart to heart. now that she knows the cast (save for jax, who she seems to react to the harshest, which is worth noting imo) are not acting solely in their own best interest, that they WILL consider the wellbeing of those around them including her, that their concern for one another is genuine (which is concerning that she even assumes that to begin with, which ill circle back to momentarily), she very clearly has way more faith in them and the idea that she should stick around the others for safety

and of course, ive said it before, but her taking kingers hand has little to do with her enjoying holding hands. its her knowing that, if kingers wrong, this is going to end very, very badly. if holding their breath isnt the solution theyre BOTH going to get possessed, and who knows how theyd get out of that situation. but she decides in that moment that her trust in the others isnt ONLY about looking out for them and believing that theyre sincere in their concern for her. but that she is willing to let the others put her at a potential massive risk. getting possessed was a blatantly immediately traumatic experience- and she lets kinger put her at risk of it happening again. THATS why she holds his hand, at least symbolically. she doesnt like contact. but she can brave something that she doesnt like, she can let him lead her into and through something potentially horrific, because shes deciding to trust him and the others, that theyre not just people she can interact with without fear of ill intentions, but that theyre people who she is going to coexist with. the best thing she can do for herself and the others is trust them and work with them actively

anyway that got off-track, the point being that her having to have these ideas instilled in her at all through shared experiences and trauma implies that, while these issues with distrust may have been exacerbated by the stress of everything, they didnt come from nowhere. these are problems she likely already had to some degree. its great that theres been improvement but that improvement directly implies thesse were improvements that needed to be made to begin with. and the fact that the person she gets repeatedly most startled by is jax. who, even with episode 2, she explicitly doesnt trust. in the pilot, at least, her distrust is more vague (i think the dream sequence in ep 2 IS what highlights it best) so her flinching from jax can be passed off as related to a general lack of adjustment to the new environment and situation shes in. but it happens again with jax in episode 3 (and, notably, she pauses afterwards but it takes a moment for her to relax even knowing its just jax), after shes adjusted somewhat, and after shes gained some trust with everyone except for jax (given his absence from the scene at the end of ep 2). it also happens when barons voice plays abruptly next to her

point being that imo, she IS naturally jumpy. she says herself that she doesnt handle jumpscares well, which somewhat implies this even outside of the circumstances of the circus. but with how she reacts to things, it feels like her general jumpiness is far, far worse when it comes to people she doesnt trust (be it because jax is Like That, or because shes not familiar with baron). the way i see it, then, her distrust extends to perceiving physical threats easily around people she hasnt ensured are safe to be around. she IS able to gain this trust in people, but she seems to automatically place the intents of others as being Potentially Unsafe from the jump, especially under stress. she can jump back from it fairly quickly for what its worth, but to be honest, it seems more like she operates on some general, everpresent level of hypervigilance thats just sometimes worse based on the situation

and frankly i dont think we know enough about her as of ep 4 to fully determine if there IS a reason for this. because someone can have a reason to be this jumpy around others, or they can just... be nervous and dislike people moving suddenly near them. combined with the dissociation thing, though, im inclined to think the circus did not cause this, just made it more extreme with more unpleasant stakes. there is hardly any time between her entering the circus and this happening. she hadnt even seen kaufmo yet in that very first example, but she was already on alert for a physical threat, and i just. i think about it all the time...

i think the main takeaway from all of this is that i think she isnt necessarily jumpy like that all the time, but i think trust is not a given with pomni, and her jumpiness massively depends on how much she trusts people near her and the situation shes in to not be a physical threat to her. its definitely worse in the circus, but i think it was probably still something present in a different context in the real world, too

[maldupay]

people are of course free to feel how they want about things regarding isat and what parts of the story/characters/gameplay etc they like and dislike.. Hell i sure have things i dislike along with all my love for the game. but i feel like a lot of the grievances i've seen about the artbook are just taking something that's clearly a joke too seriously, in an extra content book that's just meant to show some behind the scenes and creators thoughts. Like komaeda's in this book ok lets chill out

[midnight-arandombanana]

I remember seeing a (possibly canon, idk man) theory that states that the reason that alchemy tables require mora is because alchemy is basically the transition of matter to other matter, with a little energy from the geo energy lingering on the mora to make the transmutation a lil explainable scientifically

This got me thinking

What if the difference between alchemy and Khemia is that alchemy is the transition from matter to matter (with a little energy to help things along), while Khemia is the transition from energy to matter (with a little matter to help things along)

Maybe the matter used in Khemia (in terms of creating carbon-based things, at least) is chalk, as purified earth, the basis of all life

So if you try and make a living being with Khemia and use the earth as your matter is kinda just… dumps a pile of minerals on the ground near this suspicious dent which wasn’t there a second ago

In albedo’s idle of reanimating that branch, I’d imagine that some of the energy would come of whatever life is still left in the plant

Consider: you can use the energy of your soul to power Khemia. I’d imagine that this would be a limited resource, considering people can only really regenerate kidneys. You might get sick for a bit (or a long bit) so most people only do this in very small quantities.

Now, as far as gold is concerned i believe that she

Was illegitimate

Was from a rich family with shitty parents

Was known as an alchemist prodigy

Attempted to kill her father (~15 years?)

Ran away from police /army for several momths

Was eventually caught, but the government didn’t want to loose such a potentially powerful resource via execution/prison for life

(Was disowned by her parents and adopted by a group (the rhinemaidens) (who she changed her lastnane to reflect)

Signed a deal to work for the government as much ad they needed her in exchange for not going to prison

And she ended up using a *lot* of khemia, to the point where she was facing nerve damage and eventual death on the horizon. A bad thing, obviously

So she sought out some blessing from the abyss that would sustain her and stop from dying from exhaustion, which worked, in exchange for her creating(?) things on behalf of the abyss on occasion

She was generally not credited for any discoveries she made/the actual food created while she worked, as the government wanted to hide the fact they subverted the law process.

This lasted until the mounting if the aggression by the abyss, causing several alchemists to die out on the field, and forcing them to place gold on a higher level of authority due to her level of experience (id say she’s about 28 now)

So she started getting more recognition, though never achieving chief alchemist, until khaenriah eventually fell. Most alchemists died during the cataclysm, leaving her as the head alchemist once there was only a few hundred khaenriahns who weren’t soon to be hilichurls.

As for teyvat’s side of the cataclysm, i believe much of it was due to the fact that all khaenriahn defenses had fell and they couldn’t be a atopgate to abyssal forces descending on teyvat. Additonally, many restraints for domesticated animals likely fell to the wayside and they became feral in a matter of years.

[ursaspecter]

Mojang: We're adding frogs to minecraft! And look we even added fireflies to the swamps for ambience and frogs can even eat them too!

Players: Cool! We like this!

Frog Experts: Actually fireflies are very bad for frogs. Since in recent years you want to be more responsible with how you add mob interactions in game, please reconsider this.

Mojang: Thank you for the feedback! After careful consideration and reflection, we have decided to remove fireflies. We are always continuing to grow and take steps to-

Players: Why not just program it so frogs don't eat fireflies so that we can keep them in the game?

Mojang: That's literally impossible. Die.

[naamahdarling]

Dear Nextdoor,

I was resubscribed, for some terrible reason unknown to me, to emails from this site, an unparalleled locus of poorly-concealed racism, unleashed dogs, missing outdoor cats (surely unrelated), and unabashed classist bullying of the homeless for being unsightly and making people mildly uncomfortable for the minute and a half they are trapped one car behind the stoplight.

I'm not sure why this has happened.

Imagine my dismay when I discovered that in order to be certain I had removed myself from all email notifications, I had to go deep into settings and remove myself from each sub-subcategory individually. There were so many. I fear, even now, that I missed one, and coming to the site to turn one off seemed to reactivate all the others. (If deliberate, an extremely insidious and clever tactic.)

A single button which, when pressed, would end this piecemeal torment would suffice.

I would deactivate my account entirely but A) I want to find out approximately where the Cybertruck owner near me lives so I can find it, drive by, and laugh at it instead of simply hoping to spot it in the parking lot of Dick's Sporting Goods, and B) I don't want to lose track of the lovely interactions I have had here, including the people who told me that the Bible bids us to let homeless people starve, and the ones who said that their free-roaming pets' testicles were so important to God's plan that they should not be removed, lest His intent for all creatures to go forth, multiply, and die on the side of the highway be foiled. I mean, where else do you get to see something like that? Aside from, I suppose, every other social media site at this point. That's where we are as a society.

"But wait!" I hear the leering specter of user retention croon. "This site does offer something special: you get to know these people live near you!"

I do not want that.

Anyway, I wanted to let you know that having to do it all bit by bit was completely unnecessary and felt deeply insulting in some way, as if my ability to know whether or not a given site is a festering cesspit dedicated to the squabblings of a loudly mediocre populace (that would probably gladly fling their own goopy white dogs under the bus in pursuit of a world without bitchy gays like me, were there any public transportation here worth mentioning) were being called into question.

Maybe give people a single button to press to revoke their consent to receive updates on the horrendous cavalcade of human folly. That would be better than making me think about it for almost two minutes during which I could have been showing people on Bluesky pictures of my cat, who eats soap.

I'm not denying the site must be useful for some, but it really is a terrible thing. Probably because of where I live, but I can't help that part.

Be well, anonymous stranger. None of this is your personal fault. Please tell those above you that the email tickyboxes are the internet equivalent of those spikes that prevent perfectly nice birds from landing on beige buildings.

Thank you for allowing me to procrastinate at you.

-- A perfectly normal individual who would never vaguepost about anyone's lawn.

[hcsiqs]

TALK TOO MUCH— paige bueckers x famous!reader

༊*·˚ summary: while doing the wired autocomplete interview, you reveal your celebrity crush to be the famous athlete, Paige Bueckers

༊*·˚ warnings: use of y/n, reader is close friends with renee rapp

༊*·˚ author's note: and after months away...here i am so it might be a little rusty my bad yall

You sat down in the chair that was placed perfectly in back center of the all-white room you had just arrived in a few moments prior. Your makeup artist and hair stylist both came up and made some quick fixes before giving a nod to the crew behind the camera that you were ready.

You sat in the chair with your arms resting against the arms of the chairs as the director gave you the cue to start, "Hi guys! It's Y/N Y/L/N, and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview" you beamed at the camera doing a small wave. You were then handed a card that was made to look like a Google search bar with questions, with certain parts being blocked out by a white piece of paper.

The first board was questions mostly about where you grew up and how you got your start in music, some even asking about your hometown friends. Two boards later you were handed one that had most questions starting with "who".

You held up the board to the camera as you pealed the first question up, "Who is Y/N Y/L/N's inspiration?" you read out loud before tapping your finger against your lips. "I don't know exactly. I feel like I get inspiration for my music from a lot of different artists, but also from the place I grew up and the people I grew up with" you told the camera truthfully, "But, I have really been loving Renee Rapp right now" you smiled, giving your closest friend a small shoutout.

You continued answering a few more questions before peeling the last one off, reading it as you went, "Who is Y/N Y/L/N's celebrity crush?" you read out before slapping your hand to your face and shaking your head no. "Oh Gosh," you laughed softly as your face warmed, the crew behind the camera laughing with you.

"Wow you guys really wanna know my dark secrets" you smiled as you tossed the board off to the side. You bit down on your bottom lip, as you tilted your head side to side, debating if you should tell the entire internet you your celebrity crush was.

Ultimately, you decided that since you were an artist and she was an athlete there was no way your fans crossed between you two, and there was absolutely no way she knew who you were and would see this interview.

"Ugh, okay, okay, I'll tell y'all," you said, covering your face with your hands for a second to calm yourself before letting a small smile fall on your lips as you remove your hands from your face. "Paige Bueckers," you smiled, tilting your head slightly, "And do not tell her! Or I'll like die," you laughed, pointing your finger at the camera.

You finished out the next few boards, cracking jokes, or sometimes leaving answers your fans would have to dissect to figure out your true answer, but soon enough the interview finished and you thanked the crew and said your goodbyes before heading home.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Several weeks passed and you had completely forgotten about your little mention of the star athlete in the video until you were scrolling on TikTok. An edit of the blonde popped up, but much to your shock the intro was a clip of you from the WIRED video talking about the girl before it cut to several velocity-style clips of her, with one of your songs playing in the background. Your eyes then wandered down to the caption which read, "y/n is so real for that" followed by several hashtags.

You then let your curiosity get the best of you as you opened the comments to see what people were saying, some nice and some not so much.

BRO NOT MY FAVS COLLIDING

paige has got to see this

Yall we just lost Paige to whoever this is

not her shooting her shot...and its def not gonna go in

need them together actually

PLEASE never media train her

You couldn't help but scroll in the comments for what seemed like forever before the notification fell from the top of your screen as your phone vibrated lightly. It read with Renee's name at the top with the small phone symbol beside it, you clicked the small answer button and answered the phone, the sound of the girl on the other side dying laughing cutting through.

"Bitch there is no fucking way!" Renee cackled, and you could hear her hitting the couch between each of her words. "Oh My God, I love you so much baby, but exposing yourself like that is crazy work," she spoke into the phone, her laughter dying down.

You groaned, mentally smacking yourself, "I don't even know why I said it! Shit, what if she sees it and thinks I'm some fucking weirdo..." you rambled, before the girl on the other side of the line cut you off.

"Chill. She's not gonna think you're a weirdo," she said, attempting to calm your nerves. "She has like thousands of random ass people talking about her all the time, you're fine."

"Why did no one shut me up," you said, pacing around your living room before feeling your phone buzz with the name paigebueckers appearing in the notification. "She just dmed me," your mouth dropped open as you told your best friend as she encouraged you to open it.

paigebueckers Soooo someone told me about your crush. But like don't die though

You opened up the message and started typing out your apology as quickly as you could.

ynyln omg im so sorry!! i literally didn't think you'd see it and completely forgot i said it after i finished the thing

paigebueckers You're good 🤣

paigebueckers I’ll always take a compliment from a pretty girl

And with that message, you practically launched your face into one of the pillows on the couch as you felt the blood rush to your cheeks and your body went warm.

ynyln oh godddd stopppp😭😭

[dirthenera]

Ok I need to get this out with the news about devs being fired dropping.

There will be spoilers for Veilguard here so proceed with caution.

EA fucked the game, and the more I think about it, the more angry I am with them.

It all starts with one choice- the devs wanted the veil to come down in that opening, and EA told them no. Told them they couldn’t bring the veil down at all.

It was never going to be a player choice- it couldn’t, it would create two entirely different worlds leading forward, so it would have to be something outside player control, and they were told no.

The veil coming down was outside forces and the veil staying up was Rook’s choice. And had to be Rook’s choice.

Because of that, our Rook could never see the veil coming down as a worthwhile option. Which means we could never engage with it as a reality. We could never ask what that would look like, or question the morality of the veil, either practically, or as a thought experiment. No companions will bring up what it might be like in any positive way or even just as an “I wonder.”

We only get to see veil =bad so Rook must be right.

They cut Solas’ elven followers because having even *one* npc on his side for noble reasons would make us question too much, and we were not allowed to have an opinion other than veil =good, because the devs were hamstringed by it.

No companions ever discuss what it could be like without the veil, and they *should*. Can you imagine Emmrich and Bellara debating it? Emmrich absolutely fascinated by how it would impact spirits and they wouldn’t need to possess anyone or anything, Bellara leery after seeing so much wild magic in Arlathan but wondering if uninterrupted etheric flows would create more stable magic over time. Taash surprising the party by being way more cool with it than expected due to their Rivaini upbringing, and more open to that than necromancy.

Lucanis and Harding being firmly against it to the point it causes some friction in the team, Davrin just staying out of it because he doesn’t get it and doesn’t want to. Harding has a moment of questioning at a weak point after reminiscing about Cole, and wonders how many like him there could be if the veil did come down.

Neve feeling extremely mixed about it, between it possibly allowing a reshuffle of power in Tevinter, removing the ability for mages to make deals with demons, but also upset at the potential raw chaos.

But we never even get to look at that. Because there was no option there. Even if each character landed on veil=good, we never even got to have the discussion, because we couldn’t do anything with it.

And we can see how that spirals out and created a much less morally complex game than we’ve previously gotten. Rook is the good guy because they said so, Solas is the bad guy who, despite being beyond willing to talk to anyone who will listen to him, refuses to expand on what the veil coming down looks like. Because he can’t. Because then we might agree with him.

We’re only allowed Varric’s point of view, which makes sense for the beginning, but there was never an option to expand it. There is one single dialogue option where we can tell Solas “whoops didn’t know that.” But that’s the beginning and end of that train of thought.

They even set us up as this FANTASTIC foil to Solas, having meddled in a ritual we didn’t understand and unleashing multiple blights and elven gods, essentially destroying the south, blighting most of the north, partially destroying a city, and a countless death toll. But taking actual responsibility with that isn’t allowed- because we may sympathize too much with Solas. Because we clearly did the right thing because the veil is still up. It’s not even addressed in the regret prison! Solas tells you thousands would still have died if he took down the veil, but thousands did die as a direct result of Rook meddling. And nowhere can you acknowledge that.

[ghstyles]

Customer Service | His Angel

· · ───────────·────────── · ·

Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 2.1k

Summary: As a dare, Harry works a normal job for a day

His Angel Masterlist

· · ───────────·────────── · ·

The morning sun filters through the windows of Book & Bean, the cozy café/bookshop where you've worked part-time throughout college. It's your sanctuary, a place of normalcy far removed from Harry's world of luxury penthouses and tense business meetings that end with people disappearing.

The dare had started as a joke during one of Harry's condescending rants about "civilian jobs" after you complained about a difficult customer. Your challenge, "I bet you couldn't last one day in my shoes", had been met with that dangerous smile that meant he'd accepted.

One extremely uncomfortable conversation with your manager later (during which you'd explained that your boyfriend was "interested in retail experience" and conveniently left out his actual occupation)

The bell above the door chimes at precisely 9:00 AM and every muscle in your body tenses in anticipation. Harry enters with the same commanding presence he brings to everything. Confident, borderline arrogant, surveying the space as if assessing territory rather than entering a workplace.

A smile curves his lips when he spots you with the genuine, warm expression reserved solely for you that still makes your heart skip after all this time. He crosses to where you stand behind the counter, leaning in to press a brief kiss to your lips.

"Morning, angel," he murmurs against your mouth before pulling away. "Ready to show me how the other half lives?"

The amusement dancing in his eyes tells you he's approaching this as entertainment rather than a serious challenge. A fact that does little to ease your growing apprehension. The truth is, you have absolutely no idea how Harry will handle taking orders rather than giving them, following someone else's rules rather than making his own. The only certainty is that it won't be boring.

"Harry, this is my manager, Ellie," you introduce quickly. "Ellie, this is Harry."

Ellie extends a slightly trembling hand, clearly intimidated despite Harry's relatively casual appearance. "Nice to meet you! Y/N’s told us...well, actually, very little about you."

Harry's smile doesn't reach his eyes as he shakes her hand briefly. "Has she now? Interesting."

"So, Harry, Y/N will show you the basics at the register first," she says, her usual authoritative tone notably subdued. "Just follow her lead."

Harry nods once, accepting the green apron Ellie holds out to him with obvious reluctance.

"I don't wear aprons," he states flatly, the garment dangling from his fingertips as if it's personally offensive.

Ellie blinks rapidly. "Oh, um, it's actually store policy for all employees to—"

The look Harry gives her makes the words die in her throat.

"Harry," you say, interrupting them. "Please"

.That 'please' and the little look in your eyes is exactly the reason you are now watching Harry Styles adjust the apron over his crisp white shirt, looking like he's preparing for battle rather than a shift serving coffee.

"The green apron clashes with your murderous aura," you tease quietly as you tie yours on.

He gives you a flat look. "I own businesses worth more than this entire block."

"And yet you've never made a latte," you counter with a smile. "Remember the deal, you have to actually try, and you have to follow the rules."

Harry's jaw tightens, but he nods once. "One shift. Then we never speak of this again."

The morning rush begins, and for the first hour, things go surprisingly well. Harry observes your interactions with customers, his expression neutral as he memorizes the point-of-sale system with unsettling speed. When you step aside to let him handle his first customer, you hold your breath.

"Welcome to Book & Bean," he says, his voice lacking the warmth you typically use but professionally neutral. "What can I get you?"

The middle-aged woman hesitates, studying the menu board. "Hmm, I'm not sure...what do you recommend?"

A flash of irritation crosses Harry's face. "Coffee."

The woman blinks. "Well, yes, but what kind, "

"The kind you want," Harry interrupts. "There are fifteen options on the board. Pick one."

You jump in quickly. "Our caramel macchiato is popular! Or the house blend is excellent."

The customer orders hastily, clearly unsettled by Harry's intensity, and you give him a warning look as you prepare her drink.

The next customer approaches cautiously, a businessman who takes an incoming call while standing at the register.

"One second," he mouths to Harry, holding up a finger while continuing his conversation.

Harry waits exactly five seconds before speaking. "Either order or move."

The man looks up, startled. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harry says, his voice dropping to that quiet register that makes your stomach tighten with recognition. "Order. Or move."

The businessman ends his call immediately.

By mid-morning, a pattern emerges. Harry is surprisingly efficient, memorizing orders, handling money with practiced ease, and maintaining the precise, methodical movements of someone accustomed to control. But his customer service is...problematic.

When a college student complains that his americano isn't strong enough, Harry simply stares at him, unblinking, until the young man mumbles that it's "actually fine" and retreats to the farthest table.

A woman who changes her order three times finds herself on the receiving end of a smile that never reaches Harry's eyes as he says, "Are you certain? Because this is the last time you'll be able to change your mind."

Ellie approaches you as you're restocking cups. "Is your boyfriend always so...intense?"

"He's just taking it seriously," you offer weakly. "He's very...detail-oriented."

She glances over at Harry, who is precisely arranging pastries in the display case with the focus of someone disarming a bomb. "He's scaring the regulars."

The real trouble begins during your lunch rush. You're handling the espresso machine while Harry works the register, maintaining an uneasy efficiency, when Jake, a persistent grad student who's been asking you out despite your polite refusals, approaches the counter.

"Hey, Y/N," he calls over Harry's shoulder. "Looking good today. When are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?"

Before you can respond with your usual deflection, you sense the shift in Harry's posture, the subtle straightening that happens just before situations in his world turn dangerous.

"What can I get you?" Harry asks, his voice so deliberately controlled it raises alarm bells in your mind.

Jake finally focuses on Harry, taking in his cold expression with obvious confusion. "Uh, just a large cold brew. So anyway, Y/N, "

"$4.75," Harry interrupts.

Jake hands over a ten-dollar bill. "Keep the change if you give me five minutes to talk to your coworker here."

The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees as Harry pockets the ten without breaking eye contact.

"Your drink will be ready shortly," he says, making no move to provide change. "And she's not available for conversation."

Jake's confusion turns to indignation. "Dude, that's my change. And I'm talking to Y/N, not you."

Harry leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur that somehow carries to where you're standing. "Consider it a fee for wasting her time. She's not interested. She has a boyfriend."

"What kind of customer service is this?" Jake demands, looking around for support. "Where's the manager?"

Ellie emerges from the back room, sensing trouble. "Is there a problem here?"

"Yeah, your new guy stole my change and is being a complete, "

Harry cuts him off with a smile that makes you wince. "I was just explaining our new policy regarding harassment of staff."

Jake sputters, looking between Harry and Ellie. "I wasn't, "

"You've been told no six times in the past month," Harry states with terrifying precision. "Your drink is ready. I suggest you take it and leave."

The way he says "suggest" makes it clear it's not a suggestion at all.

Jake grabs his cold brew and exits quickly, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully in contrast to the tense atmosphere he leaves behind.

Ellie turns to Harry with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Harry, while I appreciate you looking out for staff, we have protocols for handling difficult customers. You can't just keep someone's change."

Harry's expression remains neutral, but you recognize the dangerous glint in his eyes. "Your 'protocols' haven't stopped him from bothering her weekly. My way worked."

"That's not the point," Ellie insists, finding her managerial voice. "As long as you're working here, you need to follow our procedures. I need you to–"

She falters as Harry turns his full attention to her, his gaze assessing in a way that makes her instinctively step back.

"Need me to what?" he asks softly.

You intervene quickly. "Harry, can you help me with something in the stockroom? Right now?"

In the privacy of the small stockroom, you confront him. "You can't intimidate my boss! Or steal from customers!"

Harry leans against a shelf, entirely unrepentant. "That wasn't stealing. It was a transaction. He paid for a lesson in respecting boundaries."

"This isn't your world," you remind him, keeping your voice low. "You can't run a coffee shop like you run your... business."

"Clearly," he agrees dryly. "Your operation is inefficient. Your manager lacks authority. And you've allowed that customer to harass you for weeks."

You sigh, recognizing the futility of explaining normal workplace dynamics to a man who handles disagreements with methods that don't bear thinking about.

"Just... try to finish the shift without traumatizing anyone else? Please? For me?"

His expression softens marginally at your plea, and he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face in a gesture that's surprisingly tender given the conversation.

"For you," he concedes.

The afternoon brings new challenges. When assigned to shelve books in the literary section, Harry reorganizes the entire display by what he deems "actual quality" rather than alphabetically. A teenager who knocks over a stack of books receives such a withering look that he frantically begins reshelving the entire fiction section.

Remarkably, despite, or perhaps because of, Harry's intimidating presence, the café runs with unprecedented efficiency. Customers order quickly, without dithering. Tables are vacated promptly after use. Even the usual gaggle of students who buy one coffee and occupy tables for hours pack up and leave after Harry casually stands near their table, silently watching them for an uncomfortable minute.

By closing time, the café is spotless, the inventory is meticulously organized, and Ellie approaches you both with an expression of conflicted admiration.

"I've never seen the closing duties completed so efficiently," she admits. "And sales were actually up today. Fewer lingerers meant more turnover."

Harry merely nods, as if this outcome was inevitable.

"However," she continues, her professional tone returning, "I think perhaps this isn't the right...fit."

"You're firing him after one day?" you ask, trying not to sound relieved.

"Not firing," Ellie clarifies hastily, glancing nervously at Harry. "Just...suggesting that his talents might be better utilized elsewhere."

Harry removes his apron with precise movements. "Agreed."

As you collect your things to leave, Ellie pulls you aside. "Y/N, your boyfriend is...intense. Is everything okay with you two?"

The concern in her eyes is genuine, and you realize how Harry must appear to normal people, controlling, intimidating, potentially dangerous.

"Everything's fine," you assure her with a smile. "He's just very protective. And not used to...customer service."

Ellie nods, though she doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, just so you know, you're expressly forbidden from bringing him in again. Even as a customer, I'm not sure..."

You laugh, the sound slightly strained. "Trust me, he won't be volunteering again."

Outside, Harry holds the car door open for you, his expression unreadable in the fading light.

"So," you say as he slides into the driver's seat, "what did you learn from your day as a normal person?"

Harry starts the engine, the luxury car purring to life. "That 'normal' is inefficient. Your manager should have banned that Jake person months ago. Your pricing is too low. And people waste an inordinate amount of time deciding between essentially identical coffee drinks."

You can't help but laugh. "That's your takeaway? Not 'I should be nicer to people' or 'retail is hard work'?"

He glances at you, a rare genuine smile softening his features. "I also learned that watching you work, being kind to people who don't deserve it, remembering orders, making everyone feel welcome, is somewhat impressive."

The admission, small as it is, warms you unexpectedly.

"However," he continues, his hand finding yours across the console, "if that Jake approaches you again, I'll be handling it my way, not Book & Bean's way."

The threat should alarm you, but after months with Harry, you've learned to distinguish between his casual intimidation and genuine intent. This, fortunately, sounds like the former.

"No need," you assure him. "I think your 'customer service' scared him off permanently."

As Harry drives you home, you can't help but reflect on the strange day, how the man beside you, who commands an empire built on fear and power, had momentarily stepped into your world and, predictably, refused to adapt to it. Instead, he'd bent it to his will, just as he does everything else.

The thought should probably concern you more than it does.

"So," you say lightly, "I'm thinking next we should try you at a daycare center."

The look he gives you could freeze fire, but you catch the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

"Push your luck, angel," he warns softly, "and I'll have you working in my world for a day. See how you handle that."

The challenge hangs between you, half-serious, wholly dangerous, and entirely tempting.

But that's a dare for another day.

· · ───────────·────────── · ·

A/N: A little short, I know, but I wanted to get something out today. I hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[inseobts]

Hello! Idk if you done this before but could you do a imagine of either the strawhats or heart pirates (your choice) reacting to their newest crewmate die during a battle and then a minute later is up on their feet again cussing how much of a pain it is to deal with this shit. Basically has Deadpool inability to die just without his vulgar attitude and language and a lot less annoying, just seemly chill that they can just, come back to life after being shot? Definitely will give some people a heart attack. (Definitely has their bounty rise a lot after the marines find out they can’t die) plz and thank you!!!!

Surprise, I'm alive!

strawhat crew x gn ! strawhat ! reader (platonic)

words count: 1.7k

tags: platonic, strawhat reader, immortal reader, luffy tries to test your immortality

masterlist || ko-fi

The battle is chaos. Cannons boom, swords clash, and the air is thick with smoke and the smell of gunpowder. You don’t know exactly how it happens, but one moment, you’re blocking a sword swing, and the next, a bullet tears through your chest.

Your body hits the ground with a dull thud.

Silence.

Then, pure, unfiltered panic.

"Y/N!" Luffy’s scream cuts through the battlefield like a knife. His eyes widen in horror, and his usual carefree grin vanishes "Oi! Get up!"

Zoro, mid-swing against an enemy, falters as he sees your unmoving body "Damn it! They got Y/N!" His grip on his swords tightens "I should’ve been watching!"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Usopp’s voice is shrill. He looks like he’s about to throw up "We—we need Chopper! Chopper!"

Sanji’s cigarette drops from his mouth as he turns sharply "Tch—those bastards." His expression darkens, and before anyone can stop him, he launches a devastating kick that sends one of the attackers flying "They’re dead. Every last one of them."

"Y/N!!" Nami’s eyes are wide with shock. She looks from your lifeless body to the enemy forces and then to Chopper, who is already rushing over, tears forming in his eyes.

"No! No, no, no! Hold on, Y/N!" Chopper skids to your side, his tiny hooves trembling as he checks for a pulse "They’re—THEY’RE NOT BREATHING!"

"No," Robin murmurs, brows furrowing "Not like this."

Franky’s hands clench into fists "That’s it! These jerks are SUPER dead!"

Brook, ever the gentleman, removes his hat solemnly "Ah…Y/N, my dear friend… You will be missed."

The crew collectively ignores him.

Luffy’s hands shake "This isn’t funny" he mutters. His knuckles turn white as he clenches his fists "They were my crew! They were—"

Then, right in the middle of their grief, in the middle of the battlefield, you groan.

"God, that hurt like hell."

The silence that follows is deafening.

You push yourself up, rubbing your chest where the bullet hole should be, but there’s nothing. Just a torn shirt and a lot of blood.

"Ugh, I hate dealing with this shit." You stand up, rolling your shoulders like you just woke up from a nap "That one stung."

Luffy’s jaw drops "HUUUUUUH?!"

Chopper looks like he’s about to pass out "B-B-But you were—you weren’t breathing! You were DEAD!"

"Yeah, about that," you say, dusting yourself off "I don’t really stay dead. Kind of a thing I have."

Nami looks like she’s questioning reality itself "Excuse me?!"

"You mean," Usopp wheezes, pointing at you like you’re some kind of horror story, "you just DIE and come back?! Like Brook??"

You nod "Not really... but pretty much."

Sanji, still mid-rampage, freezes "...You mean I just got worked up for nothing?"

"I mean, I appreciate the rage," you say with a grin "Nice to know you guys care."

Zoro stares at you for a long moment "You had us thinking you were gone, dumbass."

"Not my fault! I was shot! I wasn't expecting that!!"

"HOW ARE YOU EVEN ALIVE?!" Franky yells, gesturing wildly.

"Oh, I just don’t die."

"THAT IS NOT AN EXPLANATION!"

Luffy suddenly laughs, his earlier grief completely gone, replaced with awe "Shishishi! That’s so cool! Y/N, you’re like a zombie! But not a creepy one like Brook!"

"Hey!" Brook protests "That’s hurtful!"

Robin, ever the calm one, tilts her head "So you’ve had this ability this entire time?"

You shrug "Yeah, but I never really had to use it around you guys. You all are usually pretty good at keeping me from getting shot or anything deadly."

Chopper is still hyperventilating "I CAN’T HANDLE THIS KIND OF STRESS."

"Well, get used to it, buddy." You pat his tiny head "‘Cause something tells me the Marines are gonna be real interested in me once they find out."

Nami groans "Ugh. I can already hear our bounties going up."

"Not my fault!"

Zoro sighs "You’re a pain in the ass."

You grin "And yet, you’d miss me if I was really gone."

He clicks his tongue but doesn’t deny it.

Luffy laughs again and throws an arm around your shoulders "This is awesome! We’re unstoppable now! Let’s go kick some more ass!"

And just like that, the chaos resumes with the Strawhats now fully aware that their newest crewmate is literally impossible to kill.

The battle wraps up quickly after your "revival", mostly because the enemy forces are too busy freaking out about the supposedly dead person walking around like nothing happened. Some of them flat-out drop their weapons and run. Others just stand there, gaping in horror.

"D-Demon!" one of them shouts before bolting.

"Huh," you say, watching them flee "Didn’t expect that reaction."

Luffy grins "Shishishi! You scared ‘em good!"

Sanji lights another cigarette, shaking his head "I don’t blame them. If I saw a corpse cursing about how annoying it was to die, I’d run too."

Chopper is still clutching his chest, trying to breathe properly "I’m going to need so much tea after this."

Nami rubs her temples "You and me both, Chopper. You and me both."

Usopp finally stops hyperventilating long enough to poke you in the arm "Okay, but like… does it hurt? When you die?"

You nod "Oh yeah. It sucks. But I get over it."

Franky whistles "That is SUPER messed up."

Robin chuckles "It’s certainly rare. The government would definitely want to study you to know how to avtually kill you."

You groan "Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. If they find out, I’m probably getting a massive bounty."

Luffy’s eyes sparkle "That means we’re gonna be even more famous!"

Zoro crosses his arms "Not necessarily a good thing, Captain."

Before the conversation can continue, a loud explosion erupts from the distance. The remaining enemy ships have started retreating, but they’re firing cannons to cover their escape.

One of the cannonballs heads straight for you.

"Move!" Nami shouts.

"Nah, I got it" you say casually.

The cannonball slams directly into you, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris.

The Straw Hats lose their minds for the second time that day.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Sanji yells.

Chopper throws himself to the ground, screaming into his hooves "I CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS!"

"Why didn’t they move?!" Nami shrieks.

Luffy just grins "They’ll be fine. Right, Y/N?"

The dust settles, and there you are, lying on your back in a crater, looking mildly annoyed.

"Okay," you groan "That one sucked more than the bullet."

Brook tilts his skull "Ah, but did you feel it in your bones? Yohohoho!"

"I swear to god, Brook."

Franky shakes his head "I don’t know if this is amazing or horrifying."

Robin smiles "Both."

Zoro sighs "At this point, I don’t think anything can actually kill you."

You give him a thumbs-up "Pretty much hiw it works"

Luffy bursts into laughter and punches his fist into his palm "Alright! That means we really are unstoppable now! Let’s get back to the Sunny and celebrate!"

The crew cheers, except for Chopper, who is still lying on the ground, contemplating his life choices.

As the Thousand Sunny sails away from the battlefield, a transmission crackles to life in a Marine base far away. A serious-looking officer listens to the report with growing concern.

"…Confirmed reports indicate that the Straw Hat Pirates have a new crewmember with apparent immortality. We are still gathering information, but if true, this could be one of the greatest threats we’ve ever faced."

The officer frowns "Increase surveillance on their movements. If this is real, their bounty is going to skyrocket."

The crew is still struggling to process what they just witnessed. Chopper is on his fourth cup of tea, shaking slightly. Nami is already calculating how much higher her bounty is going to be just because of association. Luffy, meanwhile, is grinning ear to ear.

"Alright, Y/N, let’s test it!" Luffy exclaims.

You blink "Test what?"

"Your power! Let’s see how much you can take before you go down!"

"Absolutely not," Nami cuts in immediately "We are NOT using our crewmate as a test dummy."

Luffy pouts "But it’s so cool! Y/N’s like a superhero! Or a really bad zombie!"

Brook raises a hand "As an actual undead individual, I must say that I find this comparison quite unfair!"

Zoro leans back against the mast, arms crossed "I say we let them do what they want. If they really can’t die, it’s useful information."

Sanji glares at him "And what, you just wanna go around slicing them up for fun?"

"Did I say that?"

"You were thinking it."

Usopp waves his hands frantically "Okay, okay, let’s NOT casually experiment with Y/N’s immortality like it’s some kind of game! We should be asking the important questions."

"Like what?" You ask.

"Like… can you drown?"

Silence.

Everyone turns to look at you. Your eye twitches.

"Usopp," you say slowly "Why would you even ask that?"

"Because it’s important! What if we’re in a battle at sea? What if you fall overboard? Will you just come back to life at the bottom of the ocean?"

You pause, then frown "…I have no idea."

"WELL, THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!" Luffy cheers and suddenly grabs you, launching himself off the ship and into the water.

The crew collectively loses their minds.

"LUFFY, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!" Nami screeches "YOU’RE A DEVIL FRUIT USER!"

Sanji dives in instantly, hauling both you and Luffy out of the sea. Luffy is sputtering and laughing, while you just cough up a lungful of seawater.

"So?" Luffy asks excitedly "Did you die?"

You glare at him "I ALMOST DID, YOU IDIOT!" You shake your head and squeeze water out of your shirt "Looks like I still need to breathe. Maybe I'll just be alive once I'm out of water..."

Chopper collapses in relief "THANK GOD."

Robin chuckles "Well, that settles that. Y/N isn’t entirely indestructible."

Franky grins "Still, that’s SUPER impressive! The Marines are gonna have a fit when they get the full report on this."

Meanwhile, at Marine Headquarters, a high-ranking officer slams a fresh bounty poster onto the table. Your face stares back at them, right beneath a massive new bounty.

WANTED: Y/N Dead or Alive Bounty: 1,200,000,000 Berries

"Find them. Now."

[yup-thats-me]

—intoxicated • W. Jung

summary; your boyfriend has made it his mission to make up for the time he was away from you. By being absolutely infatuated by your pussy𖹭.ᐟ

warnings; pussy drunk! Wooyoung, oral fixation, face riding, fingering.

a/n; his face makes me feral🧎‍♀️🙂‍↕️

Wooyoung who literally begs for you to sit on his face. Doesn't matter if you're on your phone just scrolling mindlessly, or even during work zoom meetings. He'd stand just out of view of the webcam, standing there like a kid asking to for a cookie before dinner.

"Can I eat you out?"

Like, he literally has no sense of time or place. If his dick thinks that he needs to eat you out, he will.

He had been following you like a lost puppy all day long. His hectic schedule hasn't started yet and he will wring out all the chances he can get.

"Let. Me. Eat. You. Out," He'd beg. "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."

Stopping in your tracks, you sigh. "God Wooyoung," your mind is telling you to scold him but how could you when he just stands there so cutely, smiling like the brightest of the stars.

"Alright."

And zoom! He's picking you up in his buff arms and making a bee-line to your bedroom. He wastes no time on removing his clothes, but yours are gone in a flash.

He's like a madman when he's actually drooling at the mere sight of your pussy clad in the pink lace panties he brought from his tour.

"So pretty."

He'd lick the clit through the thin fabric, his spit making the fabric see-through, eyes dilating at the sight.

He'd make it a point to make you cum once without taking the panties off. They're now completely drenched in your fluids, an absolute mess. Oh, but Wooyoung loves it.

He'd slowly pull them off of you at last. Maybe he'll keep them for later, but now he has greater priorities.

Throwing them god knows where, he'd slowly run his fingers sliding around your folds liaghtly.

"Youngie, please," you'd moan, wanting to feel him inside.

"Please what, baby?"

He's such a tease.

"Please," you'd cry back, grinding your pussy on his palm. "Touch me–fuck!"

Before you could even finish your request, he's thrusting his finger inside you, his tongue lapping at the bud like a dog.

He had his rings still. The cold metal against your hot, pulsating walls was a feeling you could never forget.

Once he was satisfied, and you completely spent, he'd stop. He'd lay beside you, wiping the sweat off your forehead while whispering sweet praises in your ear.

And other times, he'd ask you to sit on him. This is something that actually worried you. Having never done this before, you worried what if you suffocate him? Or maybe pass out?

When you'd voice your worries, however, he'd raise his hand to stope you mid-sentence. "I'd die a happy man, baby."

When you'd at last agree, he's ecstatic. "C'mere, sweets," He'd call as he laid on the bed, licking his lips wet.

Crawling over his body, you'll reach your destination on his face. Having seen videos for reference, you try, keyword right there, try to plant one knee beside his face, the other hoisting you up. "Is this okay, woo?" Worry lacing your voice.

"No," the man would reply quite dejected. In an instant, he'd pull you straight on his face, your core practically in his mouth.

"I said sit."

[postcardsfromheapside]

Okay. Listen. I'm only going to engage with this in good faith once.

Veilguard was never going to be like BG3.

BG3 is a great game for what it is, but no DA game allows you to pick the evil ending, thus there is no reason to allow you to get rid of companions in VG like in BG3 or in previous DA games.

In prior games, you may have been able to eliminate other companions from your team, or not recruit them altogether, because they were not crucial to the overall goal, and all you would miss is story/lore. Nothing breaks in the story/game if those companions leave/are killed/don't get recruited, it merely pivots.

This is completely different in Veilguard, where Varric has taken knowledge and insight and started to develop a specific strike team to take down Solas.

Hold my hand.

There is not a world where the Veil comes down and things "continue". I know a lot of Solas fans think there is...but there isn't. A robust explanation of why the Veil should NOT come down can be found here.

If the Veil comes down, everything ends. Ignoring the real world happenings at EA, if your end worldstate in VG is "world drowned in demons," there's nothing to move on to. No reason to play another DA game, were we to ever have another. Your world state is "game over."

Rook therefore *must* be the cooperative kind of person who is ultimately working toward keeping the Veil up, whatever the cost. It would really help a LOT of you to stop thinking about Rook as a "hero", and start thinking of them more as a project manager.

Remember, Varric already had the goal of "stop Solas" and specifically recruited Rook because they had qualities best suited to help with that, and Rook agreed because "world drowned in demons" is bad. So when Rook inherits the management position from Varric, they come pre-loaded with 1) a goal, and 2) the mindset to get it the fuck done (because there really is no other option, it's succeed or die, a fact mentioned more than once in dialogue with NPC's).

What Rook builds by bringing on team members is a strike force in order to achieve this goal. And here's my point: if you do not have these necessary companions, you do not make it to end game. The way the story is set up, removing any of the companions before Tearstone Island effectively sets the team up to fail horribly. The story doesn't move forward. The world is blighted. End series. Rook is highly motivated to be cooperative with these companions and their factions.

This is why it's a poor excuse to say that it would "add narrative tension" if Rook were able to be mean to their companions and risk losing them. Nothing is added narratively by a companion leaving. If they leave, at some point shortly after The Leaving, the story will end abruptly in Blight.

Rook is therefore not going to do things to cause the companions to leave, because their goal is "stop Solas/stop the gods/stop the blight" and to do that, Rook needs these people. Now, you can make the choice not to do the faction or personal quests along the way toward that goal, and ultimately those companions might fall in the final battle, but the story is not going to let you remove those companions before then. Because the story is not about a choice between "Veil-falling/World-blighted, or Rook being a hero." The story is many things ON THE WAY to stopping the the Veil from falling, one way or another.

Now, I know a lot of these "I wish we could be meaner" comments 99.9% of the time come about because people do not like particular companions, so this was all probably a waste of typing. And my answer to "I just don't like this person" is "too fucking bad, I don't like all my coworkers either, try growing up" or "maybe you should try not being a bigot," depending on the way the "I don't like this person" is phrased. But I also think some of you just really do not understand how story/games structure works, and you're familiar with very specific kinds of media, and it's upsetting you to have to wrap your mind around something new.

If you REALLY want to explore a blighted world, that's what fanfiction is for. Go bug nuts. I don't think it's going to be a compelling story, but you might surprise me.

Also, while we're talking about "tension":

I'm begging you to consider that one of the greater sources of tension can arise because you, the player, are literally watching a tragedy unfold. You cannot stop it, you know what's going to happen, you know what choices you're going to have to make, and you have to make them anyway, and they're going to hurt you in some way or another, and you, the player/reader, know what the characters do not. The tension comes from watching the different permutations of grief unfold across the screen and inside of you. None of the companions have to be in conflict with each other in order for this to happen.

[rae-writes]

pre/early relationship things + Naruto boys <3

sawft bois, cute bois, sweet bois || 0.9k

Kankuro asking you to wait for him after the war: there's some things he's gotta figure out (including getting all his feelings together) and some things he needs to do, so he asks you to wait with a sheepish smile at the gates of Konoha

Kankuro's really glad he had his face paint over his cheeks because he feels a blush spread across them when you rub your thumb over the paint and smear two purple lines over your own cheeks in acceptance

And Kankuro nearly falls out in the floor when, a few weeks later, he's back in the sand village opening a letter from Temari and a picture falls out: you're standing in front of a mirror, purple eye pencil in hand, as you very clearly mimic a thinner style of his paint markings- with a bright smile plastered over your face as you look at the camera

Kankuro decides he has to go back to the Leaf as soon as possible. He needs you to be his. Really his.

Naruto trying his hardest to keep a clean presentation in front of you at first; neat hair, no sloppy clothes, wiped off face. He's just really nervous because he really likes you and wants to..essentially detach any images you may have of him from all the village gossip (even though you don't think anything but the best of him)

So Naruto was about to have a meltdown when he bumped into you as he ran late for a team meeting: bedhair fluffed out and sticking up the wrong way, clothes askew and barley put on properly, cheeks and mouth covered in crumbs and jam from his on-the-go breakfast that was clutched half eaten in his equally messy hand

But before he could disappear on the spot and go crawl in a hole and die, Naruto found himself with a racing heart and red cheeks when you gave him a sweet little laugh and helped him out. Your fingers in his hair, brushing and smoothing out the stubborn strands, running along his chest as you straightened his undershirt and zipped his jacket, swiping at his cheeks and lips to get rid of the mess (and sticking your thumb in your mouth to clean off the jam was just the nail in the coffin)

Naruto decides right then and there that he's gonna marry you someday (and when he realizes he said that out loud, he'll practically explode in a shade of red before stammering out a loud "Believe it!" before running off to go meet his team)

Watching Kakashi attempt subtlety as he stares at your lips whenever you're talking or simply just lounging around with him. He wants to kiss you so badly but he's not ready to take off his mask just yet but the thought of kissing you is on his mind so much that he thinks he might go insane if he doesn't get to learn how it feels

It's gotten to the point where Kakashi always presses his forehead against your temple, covered nose and mouth brushing over your cheek and jaw as he plays it off as exhaustion; really, though, he's just a little embarrassed (and a bit scared) to ask you to kiss him without removing his mask

Which leaves Kakashi absolutely shell shocked and delighted all at once when, as you're seeing him off before his mission, you press your lips against his through the mask as a parting gift (leaving the scent of your flavored chapstick behind on the fabric, something that keeps his mind just as occupied as before he got a kiss, only now it's because he needs to taste that flavor- mask be damned)

Shikamaru starting to debate the way he acts with you after seeing his friends with their partners, realizing he's never really asked you how you felt about his...lazy habits when hanging out and wonders if you're actually as okay with it as you seem

It's a real drag, honestly, Shikamaru thinks- having to question something he's never had self doubt on before. He makes up his mind that he's just going to ask you straight out and get it over with. His brilliant plan goes out the window and into the trash, though, when you trudge into his house for your date night and curl up beside him, mentioning something about 'been looking forward to our weekly shared nap' (which makes his heart speed up, hindering him from even being able to fall asleep. he wasn't complaining- for once- not after seeing you so at ease with his lazy habits)

Kiba not knowing why Akamaru runs off for around thirty minutes each afternoon after training is over, but not minding too much since his fluffy companion always comes back from wherever with his tail wagging and tongue out happily. He does get curious, though, so he ends up following along one day

And Kiba about dies on the spot when he sees Akamaru bounding up to you, the civilian that he has a giant crush on (who always smiles and waves at him, no matter what, in passing). He watches his tank of a hound sprawl in your lap- almost covering your entire body- and get petted and cooed at. He stumbles over with a dumb grin and heated cheeks, making easy conversation

When he leaves with Akamaru in tow, Kiba formulates a plan to finally ask you out, hopefully using his best furry wing man to help

[dreamlandbarnes]

f1 fic recs

a compilation of all the fics i've been reading in the f1 rpf tag on ao3! please leave comments and kudos for the authors, and check the tags before reading. sorted by pairing, and summary and word count are provided. none of these fics are mine.

if your fic is on here and you want it removed, please let me know!

part 2

charles leclerc / max verstappen

bloodsport by 140445 | 37,711 words | M

“I don’t care about then, you are here now,” Charles says. “You are on my side now.” Max is on his side. It’ll feel like that, too, at some point. Surely. Or: Max and Charles as teammates for the 24 hours of Le Mans.

such murderous and vengeful desire by foggystars | 20,676 words | E

Where Carlos’ girlfriend has her fingers crossed, keeps covering her eyes as if she can’t bear to watch, Max is focused, mouth set in a hard line. He’s leaning in, balancing on the edge of his seat. To anybody else he looks intent, focused on the screen. To Charles, he looks like a bird, poised to take wing. Like he’s about to fly right through the screen and take the steering wheel from Charles’ clumsy hands, get in there and drive the car himself. When Max Verstappen suffers a career ending injury, he pours all his effort into turning his old rival, Charles Leclerc, into a worthy champion. Five years and two world championships later, they finally decide to talk about it.

like in love with me by linearity | 7,800 words | T

Austria 2019, a two-person house party, Abu Dhabi 2021, a silly lover’s quarrel, and a stove-side morning proposal.

Anonym by additiv | 13,971 words | E

The truth is, Max finds Charles unbelievably annoying. He’s chaotic and unpredictable. He’s staring at Max across the room one moment, and in the next, seems to have forgotten he exists. He swaps clothes with people at random, whipping off his faded Gucci t-shirt in the middle of the dance floor, to trade it for some girl’s crop top, laughing and crowding close to block the view of her body while they make the exchange. When he disappears to the bathroom, Max never knows whether he’ll reappear with glitter on his eyelids, or white powder on his nose. He flirts with every person in the room, and probably sleeps with them too. He ignores Max completely, then goes home with him. He’s always gone when Max wakes up; nothing left behind, nothing missing. He refuses to stay the night, but refuses to let Max get over him. And, he refuses to let Max know anything about him.

when you cut me open by triangularity (linearity) | 44,900 words | E

Well, Charles concedes, miserably. He did die last night. A few days staying with his vampire ex-boyfriend probably isn’t the worst thing he’ll have gone through in January.

a life in your shape by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream) | 29,431 words | E

“Oh god, not you,” Charles groans, crossing his arms on his chest. The Batman visibly rolls his eyes (blue, of course, because all men that messed with Charles’ life had that in common apparently) at his reaction, but another look at Charles makes him step closer. “Yes, always a pleasure. Are you ok?” or: 5 times both Max and the Batman makes Charles' life a lot more complicated than needed + 1 time he doesn't

Frecheit by additiv | 208,723 words | E

The first time that Max heard the name Charles Leclerc was in 2022, just after winning his first WDC. Maybe it only stuck because he heard it twice in one night; first as Leclerc was announced as the 2022 F3 champion. Second, as Helmut lamented not signing him to the Red Bull driver development program. Now, Max is ready to put the newly-promoted Ferrari driver in his place. The problem is, Leclerc seems to think his place is on the top step of the podium. And he is not playing by the rules. An age-difference fic, where they never got to work out their differences as kids. 3-time WDC Max's experience of being personally victimised by baby-Charles.

in dream by 140445 | 81,025 words | E

Charles tried to figure out the dream on his own. In the morning he sat down with a cup of coffee, trying to make sense of what he had seen—he even googled it. Surely, Charles couldn't be the first or only person to dream about someone he shouldn't. But there were no search results for my professional rival is suddenly also my soulmate or soulmate dream of someone i'm not supposed to want???.  (In a world where soulmates identified each other by sharing a dream, Charles dreamt of the last person he expected.)

heart of the wind by pipitass | 13,830 words | M

There’s a slip of paper taped next to one of the doorbells — third floor, second door. It should, in theory, be the one directly across from his own. Max V. “Yes?” “Uh— hi.” He clears his throat. “It’s your neighbor. From across the street. Your, your clothes…” He doesn’t really know what to say after that. Hi, I got into a street fight with your bedsheets yesterday. Welcome to the neighborhood.

charles_leclerc ✔️ posted: 😘 by ninetqs | 11,500 words | M

Charles posts a photo with a mystery man and casually breaks the Internet in the process.

cameras in the traffic lights by c_e_1 | 9,958 words | M

Pop Crave @PopCrave • Aug 13 2023 Popstar Charles Leclerc has put his instagram on private after fans spotted Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen in the background of his vacation photos 303 comments | 1.6K retweets | 10K likes

(don't read) the last page by mintchocolatechip97 | 7,475 words | E

Max feels a light tap on his arm, and turns to see the beautiful door-opener, chestnut brown curls fluffed up on his head like he’s been running his hands through his hair. “I have been on a set a time or two,” the man says, trying and failing to wink, “but this is my first time in a writers room, so you are not the only rookie here.” He clearly speaks English fluently, but has a smidge of a European accent, which Max thinks might be French. “I’m sorry,” Max says, a little annoyed that this stranger is speaking to him as if they know each other, “I didn’t catch your name?” Several emotions flit over the man’s face, in such quick succession that Max can’t quite catch them all. In the end, he looks mortified. “Oh, I am so sorry,” he says, “This is going to sound terrible, like I am the worst kind of person, but I thought you would know who I was.” Dr. Max Verstappen gets hired as the expert medical consultant for a new Netflix show. Charles Leclerc, former teen heartthrob, stars.

all i know of love is hunger by 140445 | 28,509 words | E

Anger flares in Charles’ chest. Not the kind that he feels in the car, when he’s on Max’s tail, when they are braking late and later. The one that’s been looming over his head ever since Max announced his retirement. The one he hasn’t been able to tame until now, until he can give it a name. Betrayal.

hollywood and highland by japrufrocks | 26,730 words | E

Max had left New York a week before Charles had, seven days exactly. Max had gone to Hollywood; Charles had gone to a hospital. Now they're starring in the same film. Hollywood gives its darlings everything. It takes everything too.

straight lines (that unwind you) by 140445 | 16,330 words | E

“Do you know him?” Arthur asks. “No,” Charles decides. Because he does not. He knows Max is a mathematics major, and that he plays chess. And that he hits the gym. And what he looks like when he comes. Details.

all to play for by linearity | 49,300 words | E

Charles Leclerc is not at Red Bull to win races. He is here to win championships.

my thoughts will echo your name by witchee_writer | 38,826 words | M

“Do you think you’ll ever want to do Le Mans one day?” asked Max, glancing sideways at the man sitting next to him. Charles’ eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. “I think I want to win Le Mans one day.”

heart on your sleeve by nyoomfruits | 4,812 words | T

The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing. Almost. But then he goes and falls in love.

ghost of you by nyoomfruits | 3,436 words | T

“All right, are you now finally ready to explain why four time world driver champion Charles Leclerc is currently in my living room?” Max says, as Charles towels off his hair. Charles pauses, lets the towel fall into his lap, stares at Max with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say four time?”

The HR Situation by thearchercore | 3,027 words | Gen

Jacob found out many things during his first month in the new HR role - Mary and Connor from Aero Engineering were dating. Thomas and Nick from Comms got recently divorced and it's a sensitive subject. Eddie from Legal had to go to an Anger Management class but hasn't had any issues since his return. Oh, and also - Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc were fucking weird about each other. or: Charles and Max go to Mercedes and the HR Department is in shambles.

Sawtooth by nottonyharrison | 40,305 words | E

In another universe, Max rejected karting at the age of fifteen, no longer prepared to be a proxy for his father’s dream. He moved back to Belgium to live with his mum and sister, excelled at school, and eventually went on to complete a Masters of Mechanical Engineering. Now 27, after four years working for Alfa Romeo and Sauber, first as a junior performance engineer and then on the pit wall for Zhou Guanyu, he’s put forward for a job with Ferrari when Carlos Sainz is left without a race engineer thanks to the increasingly hectic F1 schedule. The problem is, Max has a crush on Carlos’ teammate. A huge, obvious, embarrassing crush that leaves him stumbling for words, face burning every time he’s within six feet of the guy. What makes it even worse is that sometimes he’s sure that Charles is looking right back.

leminiscate by weiwuxian (BreathofDream) | 27,799 words | E

Charles tries to imagine Max, on the opposite side of the kitchen. Eating bread too, like he did that first morning of the After—gross and charming. Tries to think about the way he would hold him, maybe. Of the softness of his lips, glossed by butter; and how he would laugh and push him away. His phone dings and he blinks himself awake once again.

achilles comes down by sincerelylancelot | 21,068 words | M

The World Championship trophy rests in his trembling hands, his name etched in fine gold. It isn't until he's staring down at it—his name nestled close to Max’s—that he realises his dreams have always been carved out of someone else’s pain. Jules. Max. And now, maybe even himself.

charles leclerc / carlos sainz jr

a bad recompense for your love by steviethenarwhal | 65,162 words | M

“I do not want to date you,” Charles says. Carlos’s eyes slide warily over to him. He tries to explain. “I do not date men. It would be… not smart.” “I don’t want to date you either,” Carlos says. “I do not date racecar drivers.”

translation theory by linearity | 9,500 words | E

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s golden boy, their Il Predestinato. He likes it up the ass and likes getting fucked by rockstars who have more tattoos than thoughts in their brains. What a fucking joke.

semiotic study by linearity | 8,600 words | E

Carlos knows. He knows what this is and what this is not. This is not romance, this is not love, but Charles makes it so easy to slip into that illusion. Charles makes it so hard, and Carlos cannot be without.

last night by venerat | 24,259 words | E

Rule #1: When you go to America, don't lose your virginity to your best friend's roommate. Charles fails Rule #1.

Good Boy by chiliconcarlos | 8,445 words | E

Really, it’s all Alex’s fault. ~~ Or: the one where Charles and Carlos want to settle the question of who's better in bed.

at the dinner table with god and my father by Cloudcollector | 4,599 words | M

There is a table in his house that knows more about him than his father. Or, Carlos and his father. And the family dinner table through the years.

win or lose (it's how you play the game) by chiliconcarlos | 18,321 words | E

It all starts because of a stupid bet.   Or: Carlos suggests a hickey bet for their '23 season, and it goes about how you'd expect.

darling by magnificentbirb | 6,579 words | T

The pet names begin as a joke.

carlos sainz jr / oscar piastri

take it or leave it by venerat | 6,771 words | E

r/relationships: My (22M) coworker (29M) keeps irritating me at work

he just turned in like i didn't exist by linearity | 36,500 words | E

Oscar doesn’t have a problem with his soulmate. It’s his soulmate who has the fucking problem.

Happy Death Race by powerfulowl (playmyace) | 28,390 words | E

Carlos gazes up at the fake blue sky. Dopey grin, contrapposto pose, head as empty as the cottony clouds above. “Look, look. Look, Piastri. It is always daylight.” Oscar imagines pushing him into the piss water canal. "Yeah, cool. Stop dying!" (Oscar is in a time loop and Carlos won't stop dying.)

when both our cars collide by buildyourfences | 8,483 words | M

It’s race day, which means his phone shouldn’t be ringing. And yet, it is. “Carlos, why are you not at the track yet? We are waiting for you.” “But–” “I sent you the updated schedule last night, please get here as soon as possible.” The call ends. He blinks down at the phone in his hand. Friday, March 1. Well, that’s not right. Carlos is trapped in a time loop. He can't stop crashing with Oscar.

at a constant speed by wisteriagoesvroom (bobaheadshark) | 11,676 words | E

“Are you close?” Oscar asks. “What does it look like?” “I wasn’t expecting it to be, uh, so…” What? Oscar wants to add. Hot? Desperate? Pathetic? All of the above? --- Or, carcar get themselves into a situationship, and it just keeps situating.

left a calling card so they would know that it was me by xxxdeerlordxxx | 6,139 words | E

Carlos continues to sit there, in the cockpit with his back to the wall, pieces of the torn advertisements raining down on him. He can see a big screen from where he’s at, the replays they show over and over, of Carlos spinning out, of Oscar driving away from the incident like nothing happened. Because of course no one believes him. But Carlos knows that Oscar’s to blame. Just not in the way people might think.

hatred cradles you by foggystars | 6,829 words | E

“You see?” Carlos asks, hanging up the phone. “He does not pick up.” Oscar shrugs, unsure why Carlos seems to think this is his problem. Just because Oscar’s his teammate doesn’t mean he knows where Lando is at all times, like some sort of twink-seeking missile. Then Carlos says, “I wait for him in here,” and nods to himself. He’s walking into Oscar’s hotel room before he can stop him, and all Oscar can do is blink stupidly at the empty stretch of hallway where Carlos once stood.

in midnight’s jaws by Springsteen | 30,806 words | E

Werewolves are fiction, the stuff of books and movies just like witches and zombies. Men do not turn into wolves, or fly on broomsticks, or raise the dead. There must be a logical explanation for the restlessness in Carlos's blood, for the waves of pain so sudden and intense it feels as though his bones are trying to break free of his body. Surely there is a perfectly good reason for Carlos to have woken in the dirt the morning after a full moon, with no idea where he is or how he got there. And surely there was a reason he turned to Oscar Piastri, of all people, for help.

pulling teeth by arboretics | 9,030 words | Not Rated

Oscar is very private, very in control. Carlos pretends he is both of those things, too. But after a late night collision in Baku 2024, things spiral between them into something straddling a game and an uncomfortable intimacy. A year on, Oscar and Lando are battling for the championship, Carlos is fighting for low points finishes, and Oscar loses his grip on the whole situation.

the better half of a good time by antimonyandthyme | 4,413 words | E

“Most guys, they look at the date.” He manages to make it sound both admiring and chiding. Oscar is very quickly losing control of this conversation. “Do you make a habit of just giving your license out? To every stranger you meet?” “Only those I��really like.”

reckless attention by crescenteluce | 4,290 words | E

It’s probably on Oscar to be the bigger person here, to tell Carlos if he can’t do it sober, he shouldn’t be doing it at all. But that’s the thing about Carlos – he doesn’t exactly inspire Oscar to be the best version of himself.

george russell / max verstappen

winning mentality by linearity | 18,500 words | E

It’s not, like, a thing. It’s only happened twice, if you don’t count the time during the pre-season when Max shoved a thigh against George’s crotch, and George, touched-deprived and broken-hearted, let out a sharp gasp and came instantly. Max, looking shocked and frightened, stormed away.

cut your teeth by 140445 | 9,224 words | E

And that is the thing that brought George here. Eat or be eaten. It’ll happen either way. Maybe here, he will like the taste.

full throttle by calenmirel | 3,397 words | E

Later, Max will turn to him, meeting his gaze head on, and ask if George truly hadn’t seen him in his mirrors at turn eight, like George had claimed. He'll rub his hands on his racesuit as he says it, like he'll be rid of the phantom feeling of George's hair from between his fingers if he wipes them hard enough. George will look back at him, licking the taste of Max from the back of his teeth like he can savour it, and will reply, “of course I didn’t,” lying through his smile.

alexander albon / george russell

a feeling all brand new by ginnydear | 16,481 words | M

Alex is halfway through his sandwich when he starts to feel talkative, so he takes a sip of his tea and waits for Logan to finish chewing before he says what’s running through his mind at full speed. “I think I’m homophobic.”

nothing but teeth by crescenteluce | 25,057 words | E

“Oh, come on.” Alex says, poking George in the thigh again with his foot. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done a little-” Alex makes a complicated hand-wavy gesture that has the contents of his glass nearly sloshing over the sides. “At your fancy boy schools, a little stiff upper-lipped make-out amongst the chaps? In between rounds of cricket and fox hunting?”

carlos sainz jr / max verstappen

ease the madness by magnificentbirb | 12,231 words | M

Max signed away his soul on his sixteenth birthday.

pierre gasly / charles leclerc

a long time (maybe forever) by strongestavenger | 10,021 words | T

AITA: homophobic but only to my roommate/best friend? First of all, I swear I have never been a discriminatory person – I have lots of gay friends and my little brother is bisexual. I know that sounds stupid as hell but it’s my only defense right now. My problem is that I (Marc, 26M, straight) have a roommate (Jacques, 28M, gay), who has also been my best friend since we were kids, and I think I’ve started to feel homophobic towards him? (or: Charles needs some outside help to figure things out.)

miscellaneous / general / multi

One thousand laps of jeddah by in_in_in_in_in_in_in | 68,585 words | Gen

George feels sick for the whole ride to the track. He has no idea how he got from breakfast to the car, let alone how he shook off Alex. He knows that he said ‘for god’s sake, Alex, I’m not on drugs’ about a hundred times, even though he’s not at all sure that it’s the truth. What else could have happened to him? Did he dream the race last night?

eat them alive by linearity | 57,000 words | E

Oscar lost Lando a championship and left McLaren. There was still a year in between.

the condominium community committee by jusst_you_wait | 36,452 words | T

the condominium community - 2:36pm Oscar and Logan have been added to the chat George Hello, welcome to a group chat we have for the Formula apartment building! There are only 18 (20 now) of us so we like to keep in contact about the building maintenance and other neighbourly orders of business. I’m George, and I liaise with the building manager on behalf of all of us when there is a building specific issue rather than an apartment issue. Welcome to the building! Lando do u copy and paste that from ur notes every time Alex I bet he has it memorised ~ or, the ridiculous chat fic where the f1 grid all live in the same apartment building

temperature get to you by minieggs11 | 9,339 words | E

It’s Logan’s last ride of the night, it’s clearly two drunk tourists going back to their hotel. As long as they give him a five star rating, he doesn’t care what happens.

sugar and spice by pipitass | 10,785 words | E

“Do you know already? Who you’ll pick?” Oscar frowns. Eyes still closed, scrunched now. Sharp brows downturned, meeting in the middle of his face. “When you win.” The frown deepens for a second. Then his face releases, and he shrugs. Shuffles as he goes to lay down, kicking his shoes off before he brings them up so his toes are poking at Max’s thigh, settling in. “Someone nice.”

triple header by 140445 | 7,890 words | E

Because Oscar isn’t here with Charles. And he’s not here with Max. He doesn’t get it, this thing between Max and Charles. They look like they’re here together, share glances that make Oscar feel like an intruder—but Max brought Oscar back to the booth to sit with them. For Charles to flirt with him. As if it’s some kind of game, where Max brings back prey for Charles to take.

somebody else by piastrism | 31,252 words | E

Oscar misses the color lilac — the color of the twilight sky behind Charles as they drank wine on Sedici, and the long-faded color left behind on his hips by Max’s fingertips.

we'll take the shadows (since the limelight isn't ours) by magnificentbirb | 2,177 words | T

Lando hears the screech of tires on asphalt behind him, the distant crunch of carbon fiber colliding with a wall. He glimpses only the aftermath of the carnage—the dust and smoke, the flashing lights, the unmistakable gleam of bright red—and then he’s clear. And that’s when the seconds slow down.

possessed by light by Anonymous | 6,885 words | Gen

It is a lesson you learn alone. Or that you are supposed to learn alone. At some point you will look at yourself in the mirror and see not just flesh and blood. You will see the capabilities beyond that. You will see your body as a ladder to forever ascend, to always want more. You will see just what you’re made of—and you will realise it has to be used. You will learn not to waste it. Charles did not learn that on his own.

[mimiii-3]

Saboteur

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes, darling is gn too

Imagine being a batsib but not the family’s platonic darling…

🦇 - Bruce rescues some poor, defenseless young adult during an armed robbery

🦇 - Bruce and the rest of the batfam become obsessed and begin their relentless pursuit of the darling

🦇 - You have no clue why they’re so obsessed with this person but you’re desperate for validation & attention so you join in

🦇 - After several months of recon and stalking, they kidnap the darling and bring them home

🦇 - Cue the usual yandere shenanigans where the batfam is desperate for the darling’s love and for them to willingly join the family

🦇 - The darling can’t help but gravitate towards you, the outcast and most calm one of the group

🦇 - You begin a tentative friendship with the newcomer despite your burning jealousy

🦇 - One day you notice the darling sneakily grab a kitchen knife and stuff it in their pocket

🦇 - You go to Bruce and tell him about the knife

🦇 - Bruce pats you on the head and tells you “good job” before running off to find the darling

🦇 - You feel your chest puff, beaming with pride at your father’s approval

🦇 - This is what starts the new toxic push and pull between you and the darling

🦇 - Every time the darling breaks one of Bruce’s rules, you are the first to go and snitch

🦇 - All while maintaining your friendship with the darling

🦇 - The darling’s escape attempts die down as they get caught over and over again

🦇 - You, desperate for even more of your father’s affection, begin to set up the darling

🦇 - You leave a rogue nail under their mattress or remove one of Tim’s trackers from their room

🦇 - Anything that you can get the darling in trouble for

…

The darling sits at the head of the table, hand lightly shaking as they quickly down the hearty meal. The atmosphere is tense and you can’t help but slip your hand over your mouth, suppressing a giddy smile.

Bruce sits on the other side of the table. His tense shoulders give away the storm brewing inside. He’s angry and no one knows why. No one but you.

Just before dinner you had revealed to Bruce that darling was harboring a sewing needle. Claiming that they must have taken it from Alfred’s kit.

Bruce nodded solemnly before giving your shoulder as small squeeze. Bruce let out a pointed sigh, “Thanks for keeping an eye out kiddo.”

You respond with a quick “Yessir” and make your way to the dining room.

…

Bruce suddenly breaks his silence at the table and throws the sewing needle in the center of the table.

The darling inhales sharply and casts their gaze down onto their meal. Praying that he wouldn’t interrogate them again.

Their eyes begin to dart up and down between their food and you. They give you a desperate, pleading look in hopes that you would back the up.

You press your lips together and shake your head. You try to look as upset as them, like the whole thing makes you sick.

You can practically see the darling’s stomach drop as Bruce clears his throat, “We need to talk.”

Extra notes: I love shady, desperate reader😈 Hmmm but what if Bruce and co. suddenly realize they’re yandere for reader too