#yes i had a watch period last year

[juanitasupreme]

Mel b's Rolex collection

[exopelagic]

i will not panic abt my exams

[gguk-n]

Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)

Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.

There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.

Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.

Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"

Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.

While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.

All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.

The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.

During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.

Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.

The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.

oscarpiastri

Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒

landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣

[spideyjimin]

hot water | jjk

—  pairing: jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: establish relationship au, a tiny bit of fluff, and mostly purely smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: you’re on your honeymoon with your new husband, Jungkook, a man you’ve been in love with for years. you’re also in your ovulation period which leads you to constantly want to fuck your handsome husband.

—  words: 2,625

—  warnings: mention of sex, strong language, swearing, teasing, dirty talking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sex in jacuzzi, rough sex, and creampie.

—  author’s note: don't even ask me where this is coming from... 🥴 lmao it seems i can't see pictures of jungkook without having wild thoughts 🫠 hopefully you enjoy this drabble & let me know what you think ✨

MASTERLIST

Jungkook rests against the jacuzzi’s wall with exhaustion.

“Mhh,” you say as you sit on his lap, your arms resting on his broad shoulder. A little devious smirk appears on your face as you watch your husband. “Wanna fuck,” you whisper before pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

His eyebrows raise. “Pumpkin, we just finished fucking,” a little chuckle leaves his pretty lips. “Little Kookie down there is getting tired.”

You take a quick look down while you move back your ass. Since he’s sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi, his cock is not entirely underwater. His quite huge crotch is half hard, still recovering from the steamy session you just had.

This honeymoon has so far been filled with scorching moments between you and your husband. Well, before you tied the knot, he promised you he’d fuck you senseless once married, and he has kept his word.

“Maybe we should leave the jacuzzi, and shower before going to bed,” your husband suggests. “It’s getting late.”

His hands move to your waist, his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“What?” you pout with the biggest doe eyes. “I’m serious, angel,” your hands move up to his wet hair to play with it. “I’m so so horny right now.”

Jungkook is taken aback. Since this morning, you’ve been fucking like rabbits; you even had to take a nap in the afternoon to rest a bit. For sure, he promised you a lot of sex on your honeymoon but he never expected that much sex. He’s even surprised by his own stamina. He’s unstoppable, but now, he’s not sure he can follow you.

“Are you serious?” he furrows his eyebrows.       

You look down at his toned chest while still playing with his hair. “Yes.”

Your husband chuckles. He can’t believe you.

“We did it this morning,” he starts saying. “We even had to take a nap to recover from it.”

You can still remember how he fucked you so well this morning.

“And now, you’re just so needy in the jacuzzi,” he adds. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m down for it. I promised it before we got married, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to follow up if we keep going like that.”

“I’m ovulating, angel,” you pout. “And you look so fucking hot all the time, especially with your hair wet like that,” you explain.

“Ooh,” he simply says. “That explains it.”

For the past seven years, your husband got to experience the ovulation period. You can get pretty wild during that period. It’s not all the time, but most of it, you get to fuck a bit more than usual. He never complained because damn, you’re a living goddess.   

“Your toned body drives me completely crazy,” your fingers now run down to his torso, your nails scratching him a bit. He hisses at the feeling and his limp cock twitches.

“I know,” he whispers. “Last month, I was just taking a shower and you begged me to fuck you because my head was thrown back and my muscles were flexed.”

You both chuckle at the thought of what happened last month in the shower. However, you both agree that it was a wonderful stress-relieving moment. Back then, you were absolutely stressed about the wedding. You had no reason to be nervous but there was so much work behind it and you wanted it to be as perfect as possible. It was your day after all. It’s a day you’ll forever remember.

“You’re super hot when you shower,” you smile at him. “Even after, when your hair is still wet.”

That, he knows it so well. You’ve repeated it so many times, even at the very beginning of the relationship.

“You too, pumpkin,” he says back.

His face gets closer to yours, his eyes darkening with evident lust before his lips whisper in your ear. “You constantly turn me on, yn,” his teeth grab your earlobe. “You’re a fucking goddess, my fucking goddess, and don’t even get me going on our wedding day.”

Your teeth bite your lower lip. This man is teasing you and turning you on with his deep voice in your ear. The simple feeling of his hot breath against your skin excites you. Your pussy clenches around emptiness.

“Tell me,” you teasingly say. 

“That white wedding dress embracing perfectly every curve of your body drove me crazy,” he murmurs in his deep voice. “As the day was passing by, I wanted one single thing.”

Your husband can make you come only with his deep voice and his words. This is incredibly hot.

“I wanted to undress you and fuck you senselessly.”

A little and barely audible moan escapes your mouth. As he’s speaking, your hands slowly run down to his abs, causing your man to shiver.

“That’s what you did,” the words slip from your mouth as you’re brought back to that night.

You were both exhausted, but you didn’t want to fall asleep without sharing an intimate moment. You wanted to close the day by showing each other how deeply you love the other. Without any doubt, you’ll both say that it’s by far the best sex you had. It had a different taste; it was the first time you did it as husband and wife. It wasn’t just sex that night; it was the celebration of your love. It simply was love.

“It’s what you’ve been doing since that day,” you add.

“Only because you constantly turn me on, pumpkin,” Jungkook presses a wet and burning kiss on the crook of your neck.

His kisses slowly move from your neck to your shoulders to your cleavage but he stops right on top of your breast. Your eyes slowly flutter shut due to the increasing pleasure caused by your hubby. Your hips buck forward, your core brushing against his half-hard dick.

“Let me show you how much you turn me on,” you whisper almost out of breath.  

“Show me, pumpkin,” he answers.

Although he’s kind of exhausted, all he wants now is to have his dick buried deep inside you. A sight leaves his lips as he feels you sliding up and down his cock. He’s surprised that you didn’t even wait a bit after his words. In a matter of seconds, you grabbed his cock and pushed it down inside you.

There’s no doubt that you’re terribly needy.

Slowly his half-awakened dick gets hard. “You’re getting hard,” you whine as you continue to move up and down his cock.

Your husband buries his face in the crook of your neck. “All for you, pumpkin,” he says against your skin. He’s becoming a moaning mess with his face hidden against you. Your fingers find their way to his hair so they can play with it.

Playing with his hair is something you adore to do while sharing an intimate moment. Jungkook adores that.  

“Pumpkin,” he whispers before leaving your neck to look at you. “There might be some remaining cum over my dick.”

Although his cock was partially underwater, you can feel the stickiness of his cum. It’s quite normal considering the fact that you just finished having sex.

Jungkook is mentioning it because you agreed to wait a bit before having kids. It’s your dream to start a family but before, you’d like to enjoy your married life. You’ve been together for many years, waiting eagerly to get married. So you want to at least enjoy for a year before considering starting a family.   

“Are you scared to get me pregnant?” you teasingly say before pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Even though you mutually agreed to wait, the thought of getting you pregnant makes him become rock-hard inside you. This turns him on beyond comprehension. Right now would be a perfect time since you’re ovulating. All he’ll need to do is cum inside you, filling you up with his seed. Also, you’re already married so there’s no need for protection or coming outside you to avoid an unwanted pregnancy.

“Oh, you aren’t,” you stop moving your hips, your eyes deep into his.

“Why would I?” he asks. “You’re my wifey now.”

Hearing him calling you his wife is also a big turn-on. Jungkook understands it when he feels your walls clenching around him. A soft moan leaves his pretty lips at this sensation.

“And now you have a sort of breeding kink,” you add with a smirk on your face. “Should have married you earlier,” you whisper.

“Eeh, I don’t have a breeding kink,” he protests although his cock betrays him.

“Then why are you hard as fuck inside me?”

It takes him a moment to find something to say.

“Well, first, I’m inside you with your walls clenching around me,” he tries to defend himself. “Then, you’re so fucking hot. Whenever I see you, I get hard.”

You move your hips up which makes him hiss at the feeling. He’s only getting harder, especially if you tease him like that. Your face gets closer to his, your lips pecking his.

“You can lie to anyone, angel,” you whisper against his lips. “Anyone but me,” your cunt sucks up his cock as you push down your hips to meet his. A very deep groan slips from his mouth once he fills you up to the brim, his eyes instantly fluttering shut.  “Is it because I’m ovulating?” you teasingly ask.

Your arms wrap around his shoulder and you press your chest against his. This contact sends shivers all over his body.

“Fuck, yes,” he answers.

“Alright then,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Fuck me, angel.”

His mind instantly goes wild, imagining you filled with his seed and watching it leaking from your body. The mere thought of getting you pregnant makes his cock twitch inside you. He can already picture you pregnant with his child. Fuck, there’s nothing else that he desires right now.

Even though he wanted to wait a bit before getting you pregnant, the way he’s been turned on by you for the past two days makes him want to start a family now. By the looks of it, you also want it. Well, you biologically crave it. This is something totally normal.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he says before thrusting his hips up.

The two of you start moaning quite loudly. You don’t really care if anyone can hear you. All that matters now is to be once more overwhelmed with pleasure. A pleasure procured by each other. Jungkook messily thrust his hips to meet yours, not giving you a chance to move your hips. The hot water is going everywhere as he fucks you in it.

Since you fucked minutes ago in the exact same jacuzzi, you already caused quite a mess so you’re just adding more water everywhere. Thankfully, this jacuzzi is inside the suit you booked for your honeymoon. Nobody will see you otherwise, you’re sure tons of people would have been traumatized by you and your hubby.

Your fingernails scratch his shoulders while this man pleasures you with his little monster. For sure, his shoulders will be red once this is over. Your husband doesn’t care since he’s completely lost in bliss.

“I love it when you fuck me raw,” you whisper in his ear.

His cock twitches inside you.

“I can’t wait to feel your cum inside me,” a deep whine slips out of your mouth as he thrusts into you brutally.

Jungkook is losing himself as you tease him. If you don’t get pregnant after this honeymoon, he’ll be surprised.

“Don’t say such things, pumpkin,” he breathes out, his eyes looking deep inside yours.

For a brief moment, you take in the man you married two days ago. Although your body is speaking louder than your heart right now, it warms you to be here with him. Your relationship had many ups and downs, and for a long period, it was very challenging. His parents never truly accepted you for many reasons, and there was a period where they did everything they could to separate you. You thought you’d never survive that period.

But your love proved you wrong.

Since the very first day, you constantly choose each other. There’s not a day that goes by where you don’t choose each other. It’s silly but that’s what makes your relationship work. Jungkook always comes first, and he always puts you first as well.

Eventually, his parents realized that trying to separate you was in vain. They ended up accepting you and since then, you’ve been having a very great relationship with them. You’re truly grateful you all managed to overcome your differences.

“Why?” you ask while caressing now his round face.

“Otherwise I won’t last.”

“I’m not asking you to last long, angel,” you whisper in between moans.

His hips snap faster, and his hands move to your back to hold you as much as possible. The space where the jacuzzi is placed is filled with your moans, the sound of his balls slapping against your core, and the sound of the water splashing everywhere.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re such a fucking tease tonight, pumpkin.”

Well, whenever you’re desperate for his cock, you’re a damn tease. You’ll push him to the edge as much as possible just to get what you want.

“I know,” you deviously smile. “But you like it,” your hand moves to his hair, your fingers playing and pushing his hair while you’re slowly but surely getting overwhelmed by pleasure.

By the way he’s fucking you, you know he’s getting close. He’s being more and more sporadic, groans falling out of his pretty mouth at an impressive pace, and your name slipping in between the moans. He’s so so hot right now. You’re actually surprised he’s still able to be this energetic after all the sex you’ve had today.

“Just admit you like it, angel,” you say.

Before you can even comprehend what is happening, Jungkook completely explodes inside you. The feeling of his hot cum filling you up causes your orgasm to hit you violently. None of you didn’t last long this time around, but this is the second round in less than thirty minutes.

For a couple of seconds, none of you moves as you’re trying to come down from your high. Jungkook presses a soft kiss on top of your nose, his eyes scanning your face contorting with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he finally says when your breathing is finally back to normal. “This time you took the dirty talk to a whole other level, pumpkin.”

You hide your face in the crook of his neck. “I know,” you whisper against his skin. “I’m desperate.”

He giggles while holding you tight in his embrace and placing kisses on top of your head. You finally remove yourself from his cock, but remain in his arms a little longer. None of you can believe that he came inside you. When you’re horny, you definitely go wild but Jungkook loves it.

“Pumpkin,” he says while caressing your back. “You’re shivering, maybe we should leave the jacuzzi.”

“Don’t want to move,” you pout.

“We have to,” he says. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Mmhh,” you say as you hold him tighter.

Since you’re not moving, Jungkook stands up, his arms holding you firmly. There’s no way, he’s staying in there with you freezing. He walks to the bed after grabbing a towel that he put around your body. You stay around him like a koala with your legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to leave him at all.

After that, you both fell asleep like two babies, exhausted by all the sex you had during the day.

[onyxstyx]

ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅ | emperor geta

pairing: emperor geta x fem!reader

summary: the fates spin the thread of destiny, and mortals have no choice but to follow its path. you have other plans.

➺‘the fates, who give men at their birth both evil and good to have, and they pursue the transgressions of men and gods… until they punish the sinner with a sore penalty’ - theogony, hesiod ➺‘whatever happens to you has been waiting to happen since the beginning of time’ - marcus aurelius

A/N: i watched gladiator ii, devoured all the geta fics i could find (ty writers for feeding me <3) and i’m still ravenous. the man is gnawing at me from my insides so i had no choice but to get typing. haven’t written for like a yr so bear with me. if this flops it never happened xx

warnings: mention of miscarriage (not reader's), period-typical misogyny, morally ambiguous reader bc she’s fighting for her life out here. she’s just a girl fr :( YOU try being a girlie in ancient rome :/ enjoy !!

w/c: 5.9k

latin translations: fatum - fate, carissima - dear, domina - my lady

As the moon ascends in wake of the sun’s descent, the gilded walls of the imperial palace glint softly in the moonlight. Glorious tapestries line these walls, each one telling the tale of hallowed heroes, of terrible tyrants and of revered rulers. The history of the Roman Empire.

Their patterns, depicting stories of both rise and ruin, are woven by none other than the three Fates. One Fate spins the thread, and an heir is born. Another Fate weaves it, and a battle is won. The last Fate cuts, and an emperor meets his end.

As three pairs of hands work nimbly in the heavens, another tapestry begets itself in the mortal realm, where our story takes place.

From a tender age, you had been taught to believe in fate.

Fatum.

You had first learnt the word as a little one.

You’d been a curious creature, like most children are. Sheltered from the terrors of the world, your appetite for life was insatiable. You’d wake up with a hunger for new knowledge about the world around you, and go to bed still hungry for more, no matter what had transpired during the day. Thus, you found it impossible to go to sleep of your own accord - you relied on your mother’s bedtime stories to satisfy your appetite, and lull you into slumber.

Perched by your bedside with a gentle hand stroking your hair, she regaled you with the tale of Rome’s beginnings. A tale of abandonment, wolf-mothers and fratricide. Enough thrill to tire you out, she hoped. To her chagrin, she looked down to find widened eyes, without a trace of sleep in them, staring up at her expectantly. Instead, your eyes shone bright with the excitement of unanswered questions.

She sighed fondly before prompting you to talk. “Yes, carissima?”

And so the floodgates opened. You fired her with questions with all the sternness of a Roman general, and she listened intently with all the patience of a loving mother.

Why did the king try to kill the babies? Why didn’t the wolf eat the babies?

And finally, taking great care to be gentle, you placed a tiny hand on her rounded belly and asked the most burning question. Why did Romulus kill his brother? Your innocent mind struggled to comprehend it. You hadn’t even met your little sibling yet, and you already couldn’t fathom the idea of bringing harm to him. Or her, you thought, but your father had insisted that all refer to the babe as the male heir he so desperately desired it to be.

“Fatum,” was the simple answer she supplied. “Without the king’s cruelty, without the wolf’s mercy, without Remus’ death, our great city would never have been built.”

Eyes shining with knowledge yet untold, her gaze held yours. “Whatever happens to you, has been waiting to happen since the beginning of time,” she quoted, a tone of finality in her voice.

As well-loved children do, you’d lapped up your mother’s answer as readily as the twin babes lapped the wolf’s milk.

You had first witnessed fatum some years later, at the age of twelve.

On the brink of adolescence, much about you had changed compared to the little girl having bedtime stories told to her. Much except one. Age hadn’t quelled your curiosity - if anything, it had grown.

You’d exhausted all the resources available to a girl of your standing. You’d read enough philosophical texts to debate with Aristotle himself, asked questions faster than your tutors could find answers and yet, you knew there was much more that the world had to offer. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

With age had also come a newfound deviance. Observant as you were, you’d learned that there was much to be gained with certain types of information - if you knew how to use it to your advantage.

As such, you’d taken to eavesdropping on your father’s meetings with his fellow senators from behind a pillar. For weeks on end, they had spoken of a play becoming popular amongst patricians and plebeians alike. Oedipus.

At the centre of their discussion was a ploy to ban the play from being performed. Abhorrent, they had called it. A threat to their authority, if the people are led to believe that even kings are subject to a thing as fickle as fate. At that statement, your eyes twinkled with mischief and a devious smile found its way to your face - you were determined to see this for yourself.

So, on the fateful night you caught your older cousin in the arms of a man bearing no resemblance to her betrothed, you knew you’d struck gold.

Desperate to protect her reputation and far too embarrassed to berate you for sleuthing around when you should have been asleep, she’d hastily agreed to the terms of your silence. She would sneak you into the city’s amphitheatre to watch the next production of Oedipus, if you swore to secrecy.

And so your plan commenced. Hidden under the large folds of her toga, you observed the story unfolding before you. The mighty king of Thebes brought to his knees by the tragic fate he’d tried to escape, to no avail.

A real spectacle, the performance elicited emotions from you that were both old and new. In a short two hours you’d been perplexed, horrified, scandalised. You’d learned quickly why you had to be sneaked in - fate wasn’t the only mature theme you were educated on that night.

But you only came to understand fatum when it took the person dearest to you, two summers ago.

Pregnant again, the fifth time that you could remember, your mother had taken ill. Perilously ill. After years of unsuccessful attempts to produce an heir - one daughter, two miscarriages and two stillbirths - she had breathed her last. In her womb? The son your father demanded of her. The son he had longed for. Prayed to the gods for. What else could bring forth such a tragic end, if not the hands of the Fates?

Now a grown woman, the beliefs your mother had impressed upon you would soon be tested. Left with no living sons to continue his legacy and no living wife to bring forth such living sons, your father’s lofty political aspirations could only be fulfilled through his daughter. You.

Your father wasted no time in advancing his plans.

After a long day spent praying at the temple of Pluto, you had been ready to wind down and relax. A good distance away from the centre of the city and situated atop a number of hills, a trip there takes up the whole day. You had set out at dawn, and as the sun set over the Tiber river to bring forth dusk, your shadow darkened the entrance of your family villa.

Exhausted both emotionally and physically, your body went through the motions of preparing yourself for supper, but your mind remained absent - occupied with thoughts of what could have been and what will never be.

After your bath you called for your maid and allowed her to dress you, head still in the clouds. It was only when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the bronze mirror atop your vanity that you noticed something was amiss.

Your eyes squinted as you inspected the image reflected on the polished surface.

“Why have you dressed me in these garments? I wish to wear my usual attire.”

You wore a tunic, the draped garment secured by an ornate brooch resembling an owl, with eyes made of precious gems. Nothing out of the ordinary.

What was out of the ordinary, was the saffron yellow hue of the tunic — since your mother’s passing you had been in mourning and thus only wore dark colours. A fact well-known by your maid, who dressed you day and night.

The hands fastening the brooch faltered as she gathered a response.

“My apologies, Domina.” She stepped back, head bowed in deference. “I assumed you would revert to your previous wardrobe, seeing as yesterday marked the end of…” She trailed off meekly, allowing you to fill in the blanks.

The previous day had marked a year since your mother’s passing, and thus the end of the customary mourning period. As such, it would be socially acceptable for you to appear happy and content again, reflected in the abandonment of deep plums and drab greys for sunny yellows and bold blues. You supposed it was not odd for her to assume you desire to don brighter colours.

But upon closer inspection, your suspicion rose again. Detailed with beautiful patterns and made of the smoothest damask money could buy, the tunic was much too elaborate for a simple family dinner in the villa. The last time you wore it was to a relative’s wedding, where your father made a point of telling anyone who would listen just how much it had cost to import the material from China.

You poised yourself to question her further, but the words died on the tip of your tongue when you saw the pleading look she gave you.

“Please, Domina.”

She offered you no further explanation, but the fear in her eyes was explanation enough. She was not doing this of her own accord, but under instruction. And if you knew your father well, under strict instruction.

Whatever plans he had for you, you knew you would have little to no choice in the matter.

Wordlessly, you acquiesced and allowed her to continue. You did not protest when she brushed, braided and pinned your hair into an elaborate updo. You were compliant when she lined your eyes with kohl and blotted your lips with mulberry juice.

Primped and primed like a prized show horse, you dismissed your maid, sat by the window and awaited your fate.

Not long passed before the sound of a male timbre filled the room.

“It appears your outfit is missing something.”

You turned to the direction of the voice to see your father standing in the doorway. Instinctively, you stood to your feet - less as a show of respect and more because you were used to being on guard in his presence.

In his hands he held a translucent, gauzy material, sheer in nature and vibrant in colour, that was all too familiar to you.

Your mother’s favourite veil.

Usually fixed firmly atop her head during special occasions - festivals, birthdays, weddings and the like - you could recognise it from a mile away. Growing up, you had associated this veil with womanhood itself. You would traipse around the corridors of the villa with it wrapped around your head haphazardly, the excess fabric trailing behind you as you ran as fast as your little legs could carry you.

What a foreign sight it was to see it in the hands of your father. And what a foreign sight it was to see him in your chambers.

Following your mother’s passing, the two of you had not conversed beyond what was formally required of you, your already fragile relationship fracturing completely. Yet here he was, extending a peace offering. An olive branch.

Pleased as you were to receive it, you were not foolish enough to believe this to be a genuinely affectionate gesture. A politician through and through, your father was no stranger to symbolic gestures, and he had made no attempts to mend your relationship prior to this moment. This sudden generosity, paired with your extravagant dressing, could only mean one thing.

He wanted something from you.

Now, you had two options. Comply with his request, or comply with his request begrudgingly. You chose the latter, of course. Even if obedience was your only option, you weren’t going to make this easy for him.

You casted him a quick look of derision. “If you wish to barter for my forgiveness with a piece of cloth, I am afraid your efforts have been wasted.”

Unphased, he stepped further into the room.  “Now, now, peace, dear daughter. Let us be civil.” The faux humility in his tone was almost comical.

“Perhaps you feel…wronged by me for holding your mother to a certain standard. But, you must understand that I was simply fulfilling my duties, by encouraging her to fulfil her own. I have particular responsibilities to this family. As do you, now.”

You levelled him with an icy glare, wise enough not to express your discontent verbally, but too headstrong not to express it somehow.

“And even if I have, in some unfathomable way, wronged you; to err is human, to forgive, divine.” 

After knowing him for as long as you did, you knew this was the closest thing to an apology you would get. You also knew your father was a talented orator - it’s how he gained a large enough political following to join the Senate, after all. And so you prepared yourself to be subjected to one of his moving speeches.

“It is common knowledge that women are the weaker sex,” What a great way to start, you snarked to yourself. “Yet, I have always seen a unique strength in you. Not physical strength, of course, but a mental fortitude. Since you were a young girl you have been willful, stubborn,” he took a step closer to you with each word, purple-lined toga brushing the floor as he advanced. 

As he said the last word, he gave you a knowing look. “Nosy.”

You failed to hide your shock. “Oh yes, I saw you slinking around behind the pillars.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It matters not, now. In fact, whatever dregs of information you picked up from eavesdropping on my discussions may soon prove useful.”

His face was a picture of smugness, with an eyebrow cocked and the corners of his mouth upturned as if he knew something you didn’t. With just a few sentences he had complimented you (even if it was backhanded), revealed that he knew your secret, and teased you with a nugget of information. The perfect combination to make you anticipate his next words.

Silence filled the room as he kept you in suspense, mind whirring as you mulled over his cryptic words. 

One hand held your mother’s veil in front of him, while the other caressed its folds delicately. His eyes had a faraway look in them that suggested his mind had travelled to another time.

“Your mother was a strong woman. Not strong enough in the end, regrettably, but strong nonthele-”

“Don’t.” You interjected. “You will not sully her memory with your caustic words.”

His lips spread into a diplomatic smile, but the twitch of his eye betrayed the irritation he felt. Belligerent as he was, he ignored your outburst and continued. 

“Unlike her, you have the makings of a lady of great influence. Much like me, you have the mind for politics. That potential lies latent within you.”

With a gentleness you wished was also reflected in his words, he draped the veil over your head. “I advise you not to waste it, dear daughter, and suffer the fate of lesser women.”

You scoffed at his words, readjusting the veil so it rested perfectly atop your head and shoulders. “And how do you suggest I fulfil this…potential? The Senate is not exactly welcoming of women.”

Well-pleased that your interest had been piqued, he finally reveals his true intentions.

“Accompany me to the imperial banquet tonight. We will celebrate the successful conquest of Britannia.”

“I do not care for banquets, nor do I spare a thought for conquests.”

“You may not care for military conquests, but this banquet itself is a conquest of the political sort. In my experience, much more is won with words, than with swords. And tonight’s event presents an opportunity for much gain.”

Again with the cryptic words.

“Allow me to present you to the Emperors. Your face is comely enough to garner their attention, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, some men find opinionated girls like you to be charming.” 

Is he insinuating what you think he is?, you thought incredulously. Surely not.

“The Senate may not be the place for women, but the Senate is not the only facilitator of politics. Why not practice your politics from Palatine Hill?”

There was no mistaking it. He intended to make an Empress of you. Equally as curious as you were sceptical, you decided to test his logic.

“Beauty is fleeting. Charm wanes with time. How would I maintain their favour?”

“That, dear daughter, is up to you. I am certain you will find a way, formidable as you are.”

While it pained you to admit it, he was right. You and your father were more alike than different, what with your scheming and blackmailing. Besides, you were formidable. You were cunning. You were capable.

There may be greater things in store for you yet.

And those greater things began with this banquet.

Upon arrival, you were met with the most magnificent sight you had ever seen. Sat proudly upon Palatine Hill, the palace looked like the image your mind conjured when picturing Olympus. After ascending the intimidating number of steps that led to the entrance, you truly felt like you’d ascended to the land of the gods. Wherever you looked there was amazing artwork that instilled equal parts awe and fear in you. 

Look up, and there were grand arches to behold. Look to the side, and the spectacular frescoes offered a feast for the eyes. Look down, and there were beautifully designed floor mosaics you almost felt bad for stepping on.

As you passed through into the atrium, it was much the same. Ostentatiously decorated, it boasted gilded walls and glorious tapestries, each feature a testament to the Emperors’ opulence, and Rome’s riches.

But it was impossible to focus fully on the artwork with the room heaving as it was. Eyes darting from one person to another with every passing second,  you were captivated by the spectacle the hoard of partygoers presented. Something seemed to be happening in every square foot of the room, each guest having their fill of whatever their vice of choice was for the night. Wine was in abundance, giving way to loose lips, and scantily-clad whores prowled about in the shadows, giving way to loose purse strings.

You had been to your fair share of lavish affairs, but this was a whole new world of revelry.

Between the loud percussion of the musicians’ instruments, the aroma of the heavily seasoned foods and the leering gazes of overexcited men, you began to feel overstimulated. You stuck close to your father as he led you into the heart of the throng, finding comfort in the familiar when surrounded by the foreign. Better the devil you know.

Oblivious to your discomfort, he reprimands you under his breath. “Stop clinging to me like a child, lest our venture fail before it has even begun.”

You’d been so taken by your surroundings that you hadn’t registered where your father was leading you to. Now you stood in front of the two men at the centre of this affair, who were seated majestically upon a golden threaded couch. You prayed you didn’t look like the bewildered little girl you certainly felt like. 

With a grand, sweeping gesture of his hand, your father bowed. 

“Imperators, what an honour it is to partake in these…wondrous celebrations with your Majesties.”

“Senator,” one of them said, voice smooth like honey but with an edge that demanded caution. His face bore a smile, but his tone was calm and measured. “What a pleasure it is to see you.” The twitch of his eyebrow suggested otherwise. “In a more agreeable mood, might I add.” The man beside him sniggers.

More agreeable? Whatever could that mean? For the second time in one night you found yourself deciphering cryptic words. Father must have angered the Emperors, somehow. 

“And you’ve brought…” He trailed off, looking at your father expectantly.

“Yes, Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla,” with a single clap and an officious clearing of his throat he stepped to the side, no longer obscuring their vision of you. “May I present my daughter…”

You managed to regain your composure, exhibiting a grace only a lady of the upper echelons of society could possess when you sunk into a deep curtsy. Lifting your gaze, you were met with the hair-raising sensation of being observed. Not just observed – scrutinised.  

A pair of eyes, deep brown like rich soil, trailed over your form. The man that addressed your father with contempt - Geta. His brows furrowed as he took the sight of you in. Lined with kohl much like yours, his eyes were smouldering in their examination.

Another pair, red-rimmed and cloudy with the haze of inebriation, were the perfect contrast. The man that sniggered - Caracalla. With irises of a cold blue hue, they would have been intimidating if they belonged to a face other than his, what with his rosy rounded cheeks and seemingly perpetual impish grin. 

Despite their differences, the relation between the men was clear as day. Flaming locks of hair and the gold laurels that circled their heads confirmed their identities. These were the infamous twin tyrants.

But it wasn’t just the weight of their eyes that you felt. Lounging around the couch in various positions and in varying states of undress, was an entourage of courtesans. You did your best to avert your gaze, as theirs bore into you. 

And what a pleasant sight you were. Adorned with ornate jewellery and clad in the finest of silks, you were easily one of the best dressed at the banquet. Before a word had been uttered, your appearance relayed a message – you were a lady of fine stature, more than accustomed to luxury and thus, would be well-suited to palace life.

Well-suited to be Empress.

Not taking any chances, your father decided not to leave anything up for interpretation.

He began listing your virtues as if reading from a handbook - 100 Things to Look For in a Roman Wife. He spoke of your piety, your beauty, your fertility. With every trait of yours that was mentioned, you grew increasingly more irate and keeping the docile smile on your face became increasingly more difficult. 

“...and lest I forget, she is most gifted with the lyre-”

“How quaint.” Caracalla interrupted, a peal of childish laughter bubbling from his lips. “He presents his daughter’s hand as if he is lobbying for a law to be passed!”

Geta scoffed, “Or a conquest to be forfeited.”

At this, Caracalla doubled over in laughter, the overfilled cup of wine in his hand threatening to spill over the rim with every jostle of his frame. Clearly there’s a joke you’re missing here.

There’s a wicked glint in Geta’s eyes that tells you this joke has guile. 

“Three sennights have lapsed since you last stood before us, spewing nonsense about abandoning our pursuit of Britannica.” The vitriol that coated his voice strung a discordant note in the mellifluous tune of his brother’s continuous laughter. “Yet here you stand in your Emperors’ palace,” he gestured at the ongoing frivolities. “Drinking and making merry with spoils from the very war you so vehemently opposed.” 

Ah. It finally clicked. From what you had picked up from your father and his associates’ discussions, you knew that this conquest had long since been under contention among the Senators. The campaign was taking longer than anticipated, and required more reinforcements than expected. The Roman force was fatigued. At home, the starving plebeians of Rome were one famine away from revolting, and without the full support of the army, politicians relied on empty promises to appease their constituents and maintain order. Yet, the Emperors were adamant on expanding Rome’s borders.

For whatever reason, at the last Senate meeting three weeks ago your father had been the unfortunate soul to suggest that the troops should draw back. And now he stood before them at the celebration of the successful conquest, presenting you as a bargaining chip to secure his pardon. Opposing the Emperors was costly, and he decided you were going to pay that price on his behalf.

Geta leaned his head on his hands as he asked, “Tell me, Senator, what makes you think you will triumph this time?”

You watched your father’s reaction with bitter disbelief. For the first time in your life, your silver-tongued father, the man that had landed you this fate, floundered for words.

Fine. If this was the hand dealt to you, so be it. But you were going to do this your way.

“Your Majesties,” At the sound of your sweet voice, Geta’s gaze affixed itself to your face. Instantly, he was beguiled. “If I may…” 

With the slow incline of his head, you were permitted to speak. 

“I know little of war,” you feigned ignorance. “But I do know that defying the odds to bring glory to Rome is no small feat.” Preening at your praise, Geta leaned forward in his seat, a silent encouragement for you to continue. “Rome and her citizens are fortunate to be led by you, Imperators, and I am grateful to be in the presence of such wise rulers.”

His mouth spread into a self-satisfied smirk. “I bask in your praises, my lady. It pleases me to see that someone in your family has a semblance of loyalty to the powers above them” A pointed look was shot at your father. “You see, all those that oppose their Emperors,” His venomous gaze roved over the group of Senators shifting uneasily as they watched this ordeal. “Will soon learn that there is only one way for a man to wield power.” He held up his index finger for emphasis and paused for suspense. “War.”

With all the self-assurance of a man that has never truly been challenged, he stalked towards you.

“What other power can bring a man to his knees and cause him to surrender?”

“I can think of nothing greater than war!” Caracalla piped up from behind him.

“Yes, brother.” Geta held his cup of wine up in agreement. “By no other means can a man wield such power. I am sure my lady agrees?” He offered his right hand, each finger as bejewelled as the next.

The ultimatum he presented you with was clear. Kiss the ring, let all be forgiven and allow this encounter to end pleasantly. Refuse the ring, and…well, don’t refuse the ring.

But compliance was predictable, and would only get you so far. Your beauty and charm had ignited a spark of interest in him, but that wasn’t enough. You needed that spark to burst into a flame.

With swan-like grace you knelt before him and took his hand, smiling inwardly when his eyes followed your descent with rapture. You didn’t miss his quick intake of breath when you halted your movements to look up and meet his eye, lips an inch away from the stunning signet ring.

“Upon second thought,” You tilted your head as if considering his words. “There exists another power great enough to make a man kneel in surrender.” At your bold words, the hand you held tightened around your fingers until he had a firm grip of your hand. “A power so great, even Emperors are not immune.”

Gasps of shock came from the onlookers sober enough to process what they had heard.

“Impertinence!” Caracalla’s cry of protest tore you from the captivity of his brother’s gaze. 

“Forgive my daughter, she oversteps her bounds.” Your father spat the words out and fixed you with a look of warning, a late and unappreciated attempt to de-escalate the night’s proceedings.

With a wave of Geta’s hand, his words were dismissed. For the sake of keeping your resolve, you pretended not to see the Praetorians return their drawn swords to their scabbards.

You returned to the intense stare of brown eyes narrowed in… intrigue? Suspicion? You weren’t sure, but you had his attention. 

“And what power would that be?”

Your gentle smile had him entranced. “The strike of a drum, the strum of a lyre’s strings. Music, my Imperator, holds much power.”

See, while your father was busy waxing lyrical about you, you had been studying Geta closely. As he listened to others speak, his fingers unconsciously tapped the thigh of the courtesan perched on the arm of the couch. But they were not tapping any old rhythm – they tapped to the beat of the percussion in the background.

The ring your lips had puckered up to kiss was not embossed with an imprint of Mars, the god of war, but Apollo, god of music. Geta the Emperor championed conflict and violence, but Geta the man held music dear.

Rich eyes twinkled as his laugh rang in your ears. “Ah, yes. Your father mentioned your skill with the lyre. He failed to mention your humour.” He didn’t believe you.

“I assure you, Imperator, my lyre-playing is unparalleled.” You indulged him with a coy smile.

“You believe you would best our most talented musician? That your playing would put your Emperors’ finest to shame?” He challenged your claim.

“Given the chance, I would outplay each of the Nine Muses,” you asserted boldly. You rose to his challenge.

His eyes gleamed with ardour as he regarded your statement with a raised brow. “I await the day I hear you play with baited breath, my lady.”

“It would be my pleasure, my liege.”

Not risking any more excitement, you curtsied and took your father’s arm as he guided you towards the outskirts of the atrium, and away from watching eyes. He wasted no time expressing his displeasure.

“Have you lost your senses, girl? Has some strange plague come over your mind?!” He released an exasperated sigh. “You should have held that tongue of yours.”

 “Oh, and left you there, stammering like a bumbling fool? Father,” you uttered the paternal term without an ounce of familial affection. “You entrusted this ploy into my hands, so leave it there.”

Anger flashed across his face like a clap of thunder. Before he could berate you for your indolence, however, a piercing shriek stole the moment.

You pushed through the crowd to see the commotion, weaving past bodies stilled with shock at whatever it is they were witnessing. When you got to the centre, you were met with a most harrowing display of fraternal discord.

Geta lay sprawled out on the marble floor, the corded muscle of his limbs tensing as he strained to hold back the man towering over him, wielding a dagger above his head. Caracalla. 

At first glance one may have supposed this fray was borne of anger, but with the spittle flying out of gritted teeth that gnashed and snarled like those of some inhuman beast, the incoherent stream of words and the crazed look in his eyes, it was clear that he did not have full agency of his person.

The rumours were true. He was having one of his infamous episodes.

Your eyes darted from Praetorian to Praetorian, waiting for one of them, any of them to take action. Their hands rested on the hilt of their swords, hesitation rooting them to their spots. To raise a hand against Caracalla would be treason, punishable by death. To ignore the distress of Geta would be treason, also punishable by death. They were at an impasse.

The chatter of mingling guests and the ambience of the musicians’ instruments had long since stopped, leaving the grunts of the brothers to take their place. All watched on in stunned silence, revelers turned horrified spectators.

Their scrambling continued. Geta managed to hook a leg around Caracalla’s ankle, toppling him over to join him on the cold marble. Wine cups clanged as they were knocked to the ground, collateral. The cacophony of sound nearly masked the sound of Geta’s desperate plea.

“Break the spell! Break the spell!”

Moved by an impetus you couldn’t explain, you barreled further through the crowd until you reached the musicians’ corner. You grabbed the lyre from the hands of the bard (who was too focused on the ongoing tumult to protest), and started strumming the tune of a nursery rhyme favoured by Roman children both rich and poor. 

Dulcet tones and sweet symphonies echoed through the chamber as you sang of Rome’s rolling hills, of fair maidens awaiting the return of brave soldiers, of the Tiber River’s ebb and flow.

Those around you listened intently, enraptured. They stepped aside, clearing a path for you towards the quarreling brothers. You walked forward as you sang, and as you reached the last verse you stood a few feet away from where they squirmed, limbs akimbo. 

From your position you saw the exact moment the muscles in Caracalla’s face relaxed, and his body went limp. He released a weak whimper better-suited to an injured animal than the tyrannical emperor he was rumoured to be.

Eyes fixed on you over his brother’s shoulder, he dropped the dagger as if compelled. Tears began to run down his face as he wailed, balling himself up into a foetal position. When they noticed his change in disposition, his entourage took the chance to spirit him away from the room. 

The final note of your song rang out. A beat passed as everyone came to, as if they too were held captive in a trance. Then, a slow, steady clap from one became a roaring applause, your fellow guests lauding your performance as if it had been planned. 

Chest heaving from exertion, Geta used a three-legged (formerly four-legged) stool to pull himself from the floor and adjusted his toga. At the raise of his hand, the clapping stopped. Flopping back to sit on the couch, he gestured for you to come forward. His expression was inscrutable. 

Before you could scrape together an apology, or some sort of explanation, you were utterly disarmed by the grin that spread across his face. 

“My lady,” He huffed between words, still catching his breath. “I stand corrected. It appears your flair with the lyre is equally as bewitching as your looks.”  

Your cheeks heated up at his confession of attraction towards you. “It pleases me that you think of me so, my Emperor.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, dark eyes taking their time to appraise you. “The power to bring a man to his knees can be very dangerous, you know. I believe it would be in the best interest of Rome and her citizens if such power was… managed by the capable hands of their Emperor.”

The chill of deja vu ran down your spine when he extended his hand in your direction. A second invitation to kiss the ring. Most people only get one.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

As your lips made contact with the cold metal of Apollo’s face and you sealed your fate, you closed your eyes and said a silent prayer. When you opened them again, you found eyes the colour of rich soil searching yours. 

He turned the hand that gripped his and pressed a surprisingly sweet kiss to the back of it. His kisses travelled up your arm, growing more and more fervent, the plush of his lips leaving warmth on every spot they pressed against. He used his hold on you to pull you towards him until you were close enough to smell the heady scent of patchouli mixed with the subtle musk of perspiration, and count the freckles on his speckled cheeks, peeking through the layer of makeup. 

His palm ran up and down your arm repeatedly, inching further up each time.

“You will make a home for yourself here, in these palace walls.” Brown eyes gazed into yours, full of a veneration you couldn’t fathom. “And you shall be my little Muse.” 

As if the troubles of your life thus far had not been a sufficient allotment of suffering, the Fates had now tasked you with weathering the twin tempers of the Emperors Geta and Caracalla. And surviving.

Gods help you.

A/N: thank you ever so much for reading ! i'm working on part two so let me know if you want me to post it when it's done <3

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated x

© onyxstyx tumblr 2025

[harrysfolklore]

Tom meeting reader at an event and he’s just flirting the whole night and ends up getting her number

i watched the golden globes and got inspired to write this! i hope you like it <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was an award for "most nervous person in attendance" at the Golden Globes, you'd have won it by now.

Award shows never failed to make your stomach feel in knots the entire time, specially when you were nominated, like tonight.

The Great had been a huge breakout role, a period drama that had captivated audiences and critics. Now, you stood among the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, and you could feel your heart pounding as the moment of your category being announced approached.

"Love, are you okay?" you heard a voice calling for you, turning your head you realized that it was Dua (yes, the Dua Lipa) who was sitting next to you.

"Just a bit nervous," you told her with a small smile, "I think I'll head backstage for a minute, I need a breather."

She assured you with another smile and you made your way backstage, a commercial break started just on cue.

You had rehearsed your acceptance speech a dozen times in case you won, and also had a pep talk ready in case you didn't, yet the nerves persisted. You knew you were competing against some big names, and whatever the result people online would have something to say.

Your train of thought was interrupted by your body colliding with someone, almost dropping your clutch in the process.

"Whoa there, careful," a voice chuckled, catching your arm.

"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," you said, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, of course you'd run into someone in classic romcom cliche style.

"No harm done. You alright?" he grinned and you recognized him, it was the man who had been flooding your Tiktok for you page for the past month, Tom Blyth, "I'm Tom, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, I'm YN," you smiled back, "And yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit nervous about my category. Oh you're presenting it, aren't you?"

"I'll have the privilege, yes," his charm effortlessly showed, "And just so you know, I'm rooting for you. You were phenomenal in The Great, one of my favorite shows I watched last year."

Your nerves seemed to ease a bit, his presence and charm making you relax. There was something about him that felt comforting, even though it was your first time meeting him.

"Thank you, that's really nice," you smiled at him, "But I don't want to get too confident, the other nominees are just as great."

"Honestly, I'd bet my hat you're taking that Golden Globe home tonight."

Tom squeezed your arm gently and you smiled again, and before another word could be exchanged, a crew member's voice echoed through the backstage area announcing that the show was back from commercial break in 30 seconds.

"Well, looks like it's showtime" Tom glanced towards the exit, then back at you. "Knock 'em dead out there, YN. You got this."

"We'll see."

With a final wink sent your way, you parted ways. You returned to your seat and tried to enjoy the ceremony as much as you could, your nerves still in the back of your head but your interaction with Tom making you feel more at ease now.

"And now, presenting the award for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy, please welcome The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes star, Tom Blyth!"

You heard the host say and you knew t was time, and once again a wave of nerves and uncertainty filled your body.

The crowd erupted in applause as Tom stepped onto the stage, his confidence and charm shinning through.

"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight among such incredible talents," Tom smiled, "Here are the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series, Musical or Comedy."

A video played showing all the nominees but you felt like your mind was numb, you didn't even realize it had ended until Tom's voice was heard again.

"And the Golden Globe goes to," he paused for suspense, and you could see a small smirk making its way to his face as he read the name, "YN!"

Time seemed to freeze, you tried to process everything as you heard the applause from the crowd and those around you congratulating you and before you knew it, you were on stage taking the award from Tom's hands and giving him a quick hug.

"I told you." He quietly whispered in your ear and gave you a wink, a moment that the cameras had caught.

You gave your speech, thanking your cast mates, directors, family, friends and the rest of the nominees. Once you were done you headed backstage with a proud smile and your newest award in hand.

The night went on and you definitely enjoyed every minute of it, mingling with other actors and thanking everyone who approached to congratulate you.

Once the ceremony wrapped up, you headed to the after party, you were sipping on a fruity drink by the bar when you felt a presence behind you.

"Hey, can I steal a moment with the newest Golden Globe winner?"

You turned around noticing it was Tom, he had changed to a different suit and you couldn't help but think that he looked really handsome.

"Sure, what do you need, president Snow?" you laughed, feeling a newfound confidence around him.

"How about your number? I'd hate to lose touch with Hollywood's latest sensation." Tom flashed his charming smile again, taking you by surprise and making your entire body feel giddy.

"Smooth, Blyth. Very smooth." Blushing furiously, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Well, when you really really want something, smooth comes naturally."

And just like that, after winning a major award for your career and feeling on top of the world, you found herself exchanging numbers with Tom Blyth, excited to see where that would take you.

[pitchsidestories]

taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1018

a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. 🫶🏻 🐈‍⬛

Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.

Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.

The champion’s league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.

“Girls, I invited Esmee for dinner. That’s alright, right?”, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, kjaerste.”, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.

“She was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.”, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.

As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.

When you first came to Barcelona at Esmee’s age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.

“That’s very sweet of you.”, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.

“What’s for dinner?”, Mapi questioned smirking.

“I’ve something delicious planned.”, Ingrid announced delighted.

The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. “Pumpkin soup?!”

“Why do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?”, the dark-haired women groaned in response.

“Excuse me?”, you replied, pretending to be offended.

“I said what I said.”, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.

“Can’t you make some chicken nuggies?”, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.

“Please, please, please.”, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.

“Girls, seriously?”, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of what’s going to be for dinner.

A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.

“Hi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?”, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.

“I’m making pum-…“, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.

“We’re having chickie nuggies!”, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.

Finally, Ingrid gave in: “Yes, we’re having chicken nuggets…“

“Thanks, love.“, you thanked her, beaming.

A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: “You’re lucky I love you two so much.“

“We love you too, amor.“, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.

Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadn’t forgotten that you had a visitor.

Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.

You grinned at Esmee: “Hope you like nuggets, Esmee.“

She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasn’t pumpkin soup: “I do.“

“Then sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.“, you joked.

Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.

Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.

“This is…“; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.

“Delicious as always.“, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.

Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: “Thank you, girls.“

“You’re the best cook.“, you agreed with the others.

“I’ll try the pumpkin soup another time though.“, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.

“I promise we’ll try it then.“, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.

“Appreciate it.“

The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.

Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: “Now time for a nap.“

“Thanks for the dinner, girls.“, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didn’t want any help washing dishes.

“No worries, you’re always welcome here.“, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.

You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.

“Y/n, Ingrid, hurry up!”, you heard Mapi call from the living room.

Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: “That kid has no patience.“

“You still love it.“, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.

“Come into my arms, my loves.“, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.

You didn’t even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: “Coming!”

“All here.“, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.

Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: “That’s how I like it.“

“Sandwiched on the sofa? We know.“, you teased her.

Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: “Me too. With my two favourite children.“

With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.

You cuddled closer into her side.

There was nothing better to do on your free day.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 15 – The One Where I Try to Convince You of Just About Anything

“Don’t compromise yourself. Wait for the right person because you’re worth it.”

These were Nicola’s words the night of the London premiere when she was asked what dating advice she had for viewers. This quote has always stuck with me. Not because it’s actually great advice or emits wisdom well beyond Nicola’s years but because I can still remember the odd sense of foreboding that I felt as I listened to her words. They were just as poignant, if not more so, than the words that first invited me aboard this ship (Luke’s comments in Australia about friends-to-lovers).

And, although Luke “agree[d] with all of the above,” Nicola’s comment always struck me as making Luke uncomfortable. That interaction seemed off somehow. Awkward and strange in a way I wasn’t used to after two months of watching a rom-com style World Tour. In hindsight, and in a rather ominous way, the discomfort I felt alluded to what would happen later that evening – Luke “hard launching” Antonia.

As I was scribbling out today’s post and, honestly, struggling with how I wanted to structure it, I realized that it was not necessarily post-Papsmear (a/k/a Hot Boy Summer) people had an issue with. Instead, it seemed many people were having a hard time understanding – and accepting – Antonia’s existence in the Lukola-verse. This confusion, of course, led many to their own internal battlefield of trying to rationalize Luke’s behavior during that relatively short seven-week period. The reality is no one wants Luke to be the “Bad Guy;” therefore, people struggle to look at Hot Boy Summer with neutrality.

Don’t worry, I’m guilty, too.

I mean, Papsmear went down like a guillotine on a French – uh, well, nevermind that part. Let’s just say it did not go over well with the fandom. After months of “Romancing Mr. Bridgerton,” Luke was photographed walking into a hotel with Antonia snapping at his heels, sending the Lukola fandom into convulsions. What made it worse was that this was the night of the London premiere, the last leg of the World Tour. So long, motherfucking London!

The dark side of the fandom painted Luke as a monster – a man who, in less than three minutes, pissed on the Season 3 World Tour and broke Lukola hearts all over the world by seemingly choosing Antonia over Nicola. And, not only choosing Antonia, but flaunting her. People felt betrayed, shadowed by the possibility that Luke and Nicola had hoodwinked them with a fake PR romance and dumbfounded that Mr. I’m-Publicly-Single had a “girlfriend” (yes, that word is always up for speculation in this fandom). But, as with every dismal situation, you had the light bringers – the true-to-heart Lukolas – firing up on all cylinders and calling, “Foul!” in the direction of Antonia. A few of the less classy ones even picked up bits of old salad they’d found in a dumpster and tossed it in her direction (heehee, did you get my Dad Joke?).

And so Hot Boy Summer began…as did the confusion surrounding it.

In the beginning, I absolutely wanted Antonia to be the villain. But I’ve found that the more I write, the more indifferent I have become on the subject. Of course, that didn’t stop me from theorizing with friends. In fact, at one point, I had so many thoughts on the matter, if I had mapped them out on paper, they’d have resembled a spider’s web, with the hub being Papsmear. However, what I’ve discovered is that each of those theories, regardless of how simple or convoluted they were, took root in one of three central ideas.

That’s what I want to discuss today – those three central ideas from which every one of your sub-theories likely takes root (unless, of course, you’re the conspiracy theorist that believes Antonia is AI generated…). I want to lay out why I believe these theories are plausible (yes, prepare yourself to read some shit you almost certainly won’t find entertaining) countered by why I believe they may be out in left field. Maybe, just maybe, they will shed some light on Hot Boy Summer. But, also, maybe they won’t.

Okay, our three central theories are:

A) Luke and Nicola were simply PR-ing the fuck out of Polin.

B) Luke and Nicola were legit in their feels and Antonia became the jilted girlfriend.

C) Antonia was a PR girlfriend because [feel free to insert any reason you please].

We’re going to get the one nobody wants to consider out of the way first.

THEORY A: Nicola and Luke had a PR card up their sleeve the entire time.

I don’t like this theory any more than you do – the idea that Luke and Nicola were merely playing the part of two infatuated costars during the World Tour. However, this theory does exist, so there is no point in pretending that it doesn’t.

The backbone of this theory is that Luke and Nicola came to some kind of agreement to behave in a certain flirtatious manner during the World Tour to promote viewership of the show. As annoying as this theory is to the Lukolas, it is not unrealistic. For example, Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney recently admitted to using the dating rumors that began while they were filming to build buzz around their movie, “Anyone But You.” Regardless of how reckless I find this behavior to be, I don’t doubt that we will start seeing it utilized more and more because it does help build interest in a project. That said, and although she admittedly leaned into the Powell romance rumors, Sweeney had an easy out once their press tour ended – she was (and still is) engaged to her long-time partner.

Now, let’s apply this PR romance to Luke and Nicola. It is entirely possible that these two simply played into their natural chemistry and allowed the romance rumors to fuel Polin. We could even go as far as to suggest that Netflix & Co. supported this PR romance because more viewers equaled more money. This, to some degree, also fits with the narrative that Luke seemingly kept Antonia out of the spotlight during the World Tour and, although it was terrible timing, launched her at the London premiere because he was tired of the fake PR. We could also make a convincing argument that this theory aligns with Luke and Nicola never addressing the status of their relationship (i.e., by never openly admitting they were “just friends,” they leave room for speculation and shipping).

To be honest, this would be a nice and tidy answer for how the World Tour went down, with Luke stepping in an elephant-sized pile of dog shit on his way out of the London afterparty and Nicola swooping into to play PR Hero by promoting Season 3 throughout the summer. Meaning, Hot Boy Summer was simply what it appeared to be at surface level – Luke running off with his girlfriend while Nicola continued promoting Season 3 on her own. Sure, this theory would leave us all feeling like we had just been kicked in the teeth, but we could absolutely package it up quite nicely and tie it with a little pink bow. However – nothing is ever that simple, is it?

There are some things that make me question the plausibility of this Luke-and-Nicola-PR-Romance theory, namely, (a) Luke and Nicola’s World Tour behavior, (b) comments made by interviewers, (c) the Claddagh ring, (d) the side trip to Galway, and (e) Chaos Week.

Regarding Luke and Nicola’s behavior towards each other during the World Tour, I don’t believe I need to go into too much detail here. Again, we all watched the same World Tour, and we all had the same reaction to their chemistry. Hell, the Jakolas started out on this side of the fandom because they also saw something between Luke and Nicola. However, to play Devil’s advocate, I will suggest that Luke and Nicola could absolutely be the next Daniel Day Lewis and Meryl Streep, method acting their way through the World Tour. But, in my honest opinion, they’re not. They’re both lovely actors but they don’t compare to the two I just named (sorry, but also not sorry).

I honestly debated with myself as to whether I wanted to include interviewer comments under this section. I finally relented and decided to do so because, for me, it was one of those things that made me question the plausibility of Luke and Nicola being strictly PR during the World Tour – because, yes, I did consider that back in May. For example, in response to Luke drinking from Nicola’s tea cup in Australia, when asked about it, the interviewer, Rachael Evren, responded, “They’re in[ ]love it’s fine.” Also in Australia, we listened to the back and forth between podcasters, Laura Brodnik and Em Vernem, debate Luke and Nicola’s real-life relationship:

Em: “I can’t believe you got her to say such juicy things about their chemistry.”

Laura: “They’re best friends and stuff, yeah, people think they’re together. They’re not, they’re just best friends.”

Em: “No, but they are.”

Laura: “Oh, don’t start that rumor. I want it on the record I’m not saying that.”

Em: “Well, I feel like after you watch Bridgerton Season 3 you would be like, ‘Oh yeah, they’re definitely dating.’”

By the time Luke and Nicola reached Canada, you had interviewers being quite obviously taken with their chemistry. For example, The Morning Show in Canada – have you ever watched Carolyn Mackenzie’s face when Luke and Nicola get into that Ryan Gosling discussion? Or, have you listened to the surprise in Karen Koster’s voice (“it’s like the carriage scene”) after witnessing Nicola touch Luke’s forehead on Ireland AM? Then you had Meredith Shaw from BT Canada and Ciara Kelly from Newstalk boldly asking Luke and Nicola about their real-life relationship, and Ben Shepherd from This Morning calling them out about the Carriage Scene (“you’re blaming the soundproof carriage, not the fact you got lost in the moment”).

And, then we had the written print:

On May 16, 2024, Shondaland’s Valentina Valentini wrote: “But throughout the past three seasons, it’s been a slow-burn anticipation for Newton and Coughlan, who have genuinely become real-life best friends in that span of time. Parallel to that, their on-screen characters have given us such a perfect crescendo of what it’s like to fall in love over decades that I’m not entirely convinced that the real-life people sitting in front of me are not actually in love. ‘Yeah! We’ve kept that one really secret!’ Coughlan jests when I hint at the possibility.”

And, in her June 14, 2024 publication, Fashion’s Annika Lautens wrote: “Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton can’t stop looking at each other. I mean, they really can’t. As I enter their suite in the Four Seasons Hotel Toronto to interview the Bridgerton stars, all I can hear is laughter. Coughlan is leaning over to show Newton something on her phone. He throws his head back, giggling. It feels extremely intimate but, as the world has seen through countless clips on TikTok and on the third season of Bridgerton…this is just your average Tuesday for the two co-stars.”

These third-party reactions alone – in my opinion – debunk the Luke-and-Nicola-PR-Romance theory, but we will keep moving along.

I am not going to reexamine the Claddagh ring or Chaos Week in this entry as I have already gone into extensive detail of both in my blog Entries 6 and 14, respectively. If you’re behind on the significance of the Claddagh ring or Chaos Week, please take a moment and read those for more context. However, I will briefly discuss that special trip to Galway.

I’ve never quite followed why Nicola and Luke took that side trip to Galway. There was no special visit to Brighton – or wherever Luke’s family lives – so why Galway? I often find myself straddling the line between logic and delulu when I put my thoughts about Lukola on paper. I mean, from a logical standpoint, they were in Dublin so visiting Nicola’s hometown while they were on the island isn’t that farfetched. But to film it? Okay, yeah sure, Nicola is Shonda’s alleged favorite child, so I suppose it’s possible Shonda granted Nicola’s wish to flaunt Bridgerton in her hometown. I can honestly see this fitting into the Luke-and-Nicola-PR-Romance narrative. But –

It also doesn’t fit.

Sending Luke and Nicola to Galway was too close to home. It crossed the line between what could be excused as PR and what was clearly personal.

Not only did we have Nicola wearing her Claddagh ring in Galway in a manner that suggested she was in a relationship, but we also had her introducing Luke to her mother for the first time in what appeared to be an emotional moment. I have tried to convince myself this Mother-Meets-Luke thing was perfectly normal costar behavior. I have tried to convince myself that her sister-in-law’s reaction to Mother-Meets-Luke didn’t make me side-eye the entire situation. I have tried to convince myself that the Irish folks I’ve spoken with are exaggerating the significance of the Mother-Meets-Luke moment. I have also tried to convince myself there isn’t additional footage out there of this Galway Gathering just waiting to surface.

But, ugh, I just cannot convince myself that Luke and Nicola were strictly PR. This theory is as confusing as Sanrio telling us that Hello Kitty is really a human girl.

Verdict: NOT GUILTY.

Yes, we are marking this one as debunked.

THEORY B: Antonia became Luke’s jilted ex-girlfriend.

Hey, hey, USS Lutonia! I’ve got your flank.

No, actually I don’t. If the USS Lutonia was ever afloat, it sank somewhere off the coast of Italy. Sorry, but not really because I didn’t mourn you even a teensy bit.

I will preface this section by asserting my opinion that Luke and Antonia are not currently in a romantic relationship. Outside of “insinuation” posts made by Antonia, there is no evidence directly linking Luke to Antonia after July 30. Feel free to try to convince me otherwise but, when you do, make sure to include at least one photograph of Luke and Antonia in the same place at the same time with convincing evidence that it is current and that they are a couple (and, no, I will not accept blurry or Photoshopped images or metadata pulled from Instagram as evidence). That said, I will not argue with the idea that Luke and Antonia could have dated at one time. In fact, for this theory to play out, we have to agree that Luke and Antonia dated at some point.

Let’s pretend for a moment that Luke and Antonia dated before, during, and for a period after the World Tour. In this theory, the chemistry between Luke and Nicola was real (seriously, I think we’ve debunked that PR theory). The Claddagh ring and the side trip to Galway both suggested a romantic relationship between Luke and Nicola. Regardless of how real things were between Luke and Nicola, Luke still had Antonia lurking in the background. Perhaps Luke didn’t know how to break things off with her; maybe his friends and/or family made it difficult; maybe Antonia made things difficult. Everything came to a head at the London premiere, with Luke stepping on a landmine with Papsmear. But, because they can’t help but gravitate towards each other, Luke and Nicola found themselves back together – either immediately after Papsmear or, at the latest, by early August – and have continued their affair since. Oh, and Luke finally got around to breaking things off with Antonia on or after July 30.

This would – in a scorned woman kind of way – explain the “trolling” behavior Antonia was accused of during and after the World Tour. Those random posts that insinuated she was “with Luke,” even though the only evidence that directly linked her to Luke were (1) leaked and/or since-deleted pictures and videos from sources other than Luke, or (2) pictures of Luke’s friend group, which included Antonia, that, from time-to-time, alluded to Luke’s presence. Speaking of the friend group, the fact that Antonia appeared to be part of that group would support the idea that it was difficult for Luke to completely shake Antonia. This theory would also support the cat-and-mouse game played out on social media between Antonia and Nicola, which seemed heightened during and after Hot Boy Summer. Surely, you noticed that pattern by now. At the end of July, Luke’s friend group suffered some kind of catastrophic blow and Luke abandoned ship, officially breaking things off with Antonia as he went. This would explain the continued trolling for which Antonia has been accused; she hates Luke and is jealous of Nicola. Yeah, I can see this theory working. In fact, this is my preferred theory because it is the simplest. However –

For this theory to work, you must accept that Luke and Nicola are not perfect. That the two of them started an affair behind Antonia’s back. That “Nice Guy” Luke isn’t quite as sweet and kind as you have been led to believe; perhaps he’s even a bit of a fool. That “Good Girl” Nicola intervened in someone else’s relationship, making her the “other woman” and a tad disingenuous.  Does this make Luke and Nicola horrible people? No, it makes them two people who found themselves in a situation they didn’t know how to handle properly.

That said, this theory has its flaws.

For starters, it does not explain Luke’s apathy towards Antonia during and after the World Tour. I am not going to deep dive into my thoughts on this as I have already outlined them in “Entry 1: The One About That Weird Ass Cressida Post” and “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea.” But, I will reiterate that, to date, Luke has never acknowledged a relationship with Antonia, and he has never made an effort to rescue her from the fandom’s jaws of death. The only consistent link between the two of them was the friend group (that seems to have disbanded) and “insinuation” posts made by Antonia. I am sure there are people out there who will disagree with my next statement, but I don’t consider a New Year’s Eve kiss or a date to a tennis match a “relationship.” That would be like saying “I love you” on your first date (I know, I’ve offended at least one person with this remark – I apologize but I’m still leaving it in). It’s the lack of interaction between Luke and Antonia that makes me question whether they were ever in a real relationship; and therefore, I must question to the validity of this theory.

And, because I know some of you will bring up those goddamn Instagram likes, the only comment I have is, “Get the fuck over it.” For real, it is far more fun to sit back and laugh at the “obligatory likes” than it is to freak out about them. Those likes are the only visible interaction between Luke and Antonia, and it’s becoming less and less frequent. The sad reality is, when Luke stops throwing a like in Antonia’s direction or unfollows her, she may lose the followers she gained after being linked to him. But, honestly, at this point – almost half a year later! – Antonia losing followers is her problem. And as much as I hate to admit it – this whole “like business” suggests some sort of arrangement was put in place post-breakup.

Verdict: HUNG JURY.

It’s a plausible theory – if I could be convinced Luke and Antonia were ever in a real relationship.

THEORY C: Antonia was the Real PR this whole time.

I hope you’ve read “Entry 1: The One About That Weird Ass Cressida Post” and, at a minimum, the “Mrs. Danvers” section of “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea” because they both detail my blubbering bullshit thoughts on Luke and Antonia’s “relationship.” I’m not going to rehash them here because I’m confident most of you also find this “relationship” suspicious for the exact same reasons I do.

For the longest time, I believed the absurdly popular “Antonia was the Real PR” [conspiracy] theory to be the fandom’s excuse for not wanting to believe Luke could ever be in a real relationship with Antonia, and that (gasp!) he could have chosen Antonia over Nicola (I mean, what a prick!). In truth, I refused to give this theory much weight until my dad – yes, that guy ­– said to me, “Sounds like PR,” during one of our fireside Lukola chats. My father has a whole sub-theory on this, actually, and yes, I will explain it momentarily.

Honestly, I hate this theory because it’s complicated. And, damn straight, I’m going to throw some Benjamin Franklin at you and say, “Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead.” This theory takes things beyond two celebrities playing into romance rumors to boost interest in their project, and brings in a third wheel, Antonia, to – fuck, I have no idea – blur the lines a bit?!

Alright, time for Dad’s theory…

Per my father, this was not just any PR deal; it was an arrangement struck with a “friend of a friend.” No need for an actual third wheel; just someone who was already part of the friend group that could provide the illusion that Luke might have a girlfriend. All they had to do was plant the seed and let the rumor grow, all while never outwardly confirming or denying it; that way the PR relationship could disappear as easily as it was planted.

I allowed my dad to carry on with his theory because, as he pointed out, Antonia being part of the friend group explained why (1) Luke didn’t mind her being around over the summer (it wasn’t personal, it was business), and (2) Luke had no romantic interest in Antonia (she was simply a “friend of a friend”). The fact that my father picked up on this “fandom dilemma” intrigued me.

After listening to my dad’s theory (there’s more, I promise), I spent an afternoon researching “PR relationships” and whether they existed or not. Turns out, they do. Well, they do, if we trust Mr. Google’s search results. It’s a bit of a quid pro quo thing. For example, one, usually more famous person, strikes up a “relationship” with a lesser-known person. The lesser-known person receives exposure while the more famous person receives [fill in the blank]; both gain some kind of benefit from the arrangement.

Now, the question of why Luke would need a PR relationship is – seriously – “fill in the blank” material. Some people have suggested it was to keep Luke and Nicola’s real-life relationship private; some have suggested it was Netflix stepping in to protect Polin if Lukola went south; others have suggested it was to bolster Luke’s image. I find the latter reason offensive because it assumes that having Nicola by his side wouldn’t help his image. But the other two sub-theories are reasonable to me (but also don’t really matter in the scheme of things).

The problem with the Luke-and-Antonia-PR-Romance is that it seems to have gone terribly wrong. What very possibly started out as an “illusion” became “real” with Papsmear. What I find interesting is, like the New York City premiere, Antonia was only seen in the background of the London premiere. Even as Luke was leaving the London afterparty, she went to the car while he met with fans. It wasn’t until they were papped at the hotel, that Antonia was suddenly “next to” Luke grabbing at his hand, thus “launching their relationship.”

Ruh-roh.

My dad’s theory goes on to assume that – after Papsmear – whatever “deal” Antonia was given (for example, Luke’s online support of her Instagram page or invitations to attend certain events over the summer) would be carried out as agreed. However, during that time, Antonia would return to her place in the shadows. I will confess that this is what seemed to happen – Luke never acknowledged a relationship with Antonia and evidence of their relationship seemed virtually non-existent. To the general audience, Antonia was simply a “woman in the background,” unrecognizable by most.

Assuming this PR theory is true, I’d like to believe Antonia was simply doing what she had agreed to do – feed into the illusion of a relationship with “insinuation” posts, for which she could later claim plausible deniability. However, I find this hard to believe when leaked photographs and videos started to surface in July and they were always preceded by DeuxMoi (see, I’m starting to support this theory).

At this point in his theory, my dad quoted a line by Paul McCartney, “You took your lucky break and broke it in two.” What he was saying was Antonia was given an opportunity and, due to her own actions, she mucked it up. She became fame hungry and the insinuations of her being in a relationship with Luke became harder to dispel when they were being leaked online by third party sources. However, as I reminded my father, we cannot prove Antonia was involved with any of the pap pictures. We can speculate, sure, but please keep in mind we cannot prove it.

Did I warn you my dad deep dived into this? Because, haha, he sure did.

By mid-July, per my father’s theory, Nicola was fully aware of the game Antonia was playing and recruited (not the right word, but we’ll go with it) JVN to fire subtle insults into Antonia’s camp with the intent of discrediting her.

The game ended after the Italy pap pictures were published, with Luke seemingly cutting ties with his entire friend group, which included Antonia. However, the game didn’t actually end there, at least not for Antonia. Due to whatever agreement Luke and Antonia had in place before Italy, Luke was still obligated to fulfill his part of the deal. We’re just going to speculate here that part of that included those “obligatory likes” of Antonia’s Instagram posts.

Thank you, Dear Dad, for that rather practical theory.

My issue with this is that Antonia’s antics repeatedly bring hate to Luke’s doorstep. Every time Antonia posts something on Instagram and Luke likes the post, the fandom – namely, the Sincerely Ignorant – get riled up and start slinging hate missiles at Luke (at this point, Luke can’t have nice things). And Antonia slipping things in like that balcony from the Spanish resort doesn’t help to dissuade the fandom from believing her to be a petty bitch.

My initial reaction to this theory was, no way, because at this point Antonia would have breached her contract and Luke wouldn’t still be bound by it. But then I realized, in order to breach it, one had to prove Antonia violated it. Okay, fine. But why not negotiate terminating the agreement early? Oh, well, yes, I suppose it is possible that the cost to do that outweighed the benefit. And, since those “obligatory likes” still seem to be in place – even when they bring Luke hate – I’m going to make a wild guess the agreement remains. For now.

In closing, and since I mentioned that Spanish resort nonsense, the fact that Antonia only ever posts things that insinuate she may have been in the same location as Luke supports the idea that Antonia is simply doing what she agreed to do – create an illusion. So, before anyone starts bashing Antonia, recognize she may simply be complying with her end of the arrangement. She may be just as ready to get out of that agreement as we imagine Luke to be. You know what I’d love to see? Antonia unfollow Luke and be like, “I’m out, bitches!” Honestly, I’d probably give her an “atta girl,” if she did that.

Verdict: HUNG JURY BUT WILLING TO CONSIDER A RETRIAL.

I hate to admit it, but I think this is a plausible theory. Not full proof, but strangely (and annoyingly) credible.

***

Alright, so there you have it. The three central theories that act as the spider web’s hub to all your sub-theories – because I’m certain you have them. You’re welcome to spin off in whatever direction you please, and no, you don’t need to loop me in – because, in truth, I don’t care that much anymore. And that’s not in any way meant to be negative.

For the longest time, trying to rationalize how Hot Boy Summer played out was the missing piece of my Lukola puzzle. I mean, I needed the answer. I needed it so badly; I practically presented an entire Lukola documentary to the wisest person I know – my dad – so he could solve it for me.

Dad: “Why does this matter?”

Me: “I don’t know, it just does. I just want to know what happened.”

Dad: “Will it change your opinion about whether Luke and Nicola are together?”

Me: “No.”

Dad: “Then why does it matter?”

Me: “I don’t know. It just does.”

Dad: “But you’re never going to know, are you?”

Goddammit, no, I’m never going to fucking know.

And, that is the reality of this situation. No matter how many hypotheticals we present, no matter how many sub-theories we create, we will never know what happened over Hot Boy Summer. We will never be able to justify Luke’s behavior during that time. We will never be able to explain with certainty Antonia’s role in this whole shebang.

You may not like that answer. In fact, the theories I presented today may have fueled your ambition to continue trying to solve Hot Boy Summer on your own, or with your friends. I admire that determination. But I also admire those who can let go and accept that it is what it is.

And what it is – and what it will almost certainly always be – is unknown.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 - "HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE PREGNANT READER?"

A/N: an anon asked me for Bi Han's reaction to a pregnant Reader, but then I decided to play several MK men soon, I'll answer all requests too, thanks for the asks and support <3

TW: pregnancy, afab anatomy, paternity mentioned, used "father/mother" to refer to the reader, mention of smut, fluff.

✧ BI HAN ✧

It really depends on what kind of relationship you two have. You can have a "friendship with benefits" with Bi Han, where you look for each other just to have sex, then you end up accidentally getting pregnant and go look for him - obviously afraid, after all, he is Bi Han. So he asks you to meet him in the forest, the same meeting place where you made love in passionate encounters, with Bi Han fucking you hard, whispering how good you were for him, how good your beautiful pussy was on his dick, it was the only moment that the grand master was vulnerable. You saw him in the distance, with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face as he waited for you to say something so important that made him miss an entire day of liu kuei training. After telling him, he would be surprised for a few minutes, and say: "-Are you sure it's my son?" -Bi Han said with a little too much seriousness in his voice, even aggression while you felt a little offended, but you would say yes, making Bi Han look at the sky, a smile could be seen slightly on his lips as he went at your direction by kneeling in front of your belly and nodding your head. "-I think we will be good parents, our child will have all the honor and power Lin Kuei." -The ice ninja stood up as he held your hand, he would be a good father, even if he was rude at times, he will take care of your pregnancy - and maybe he will want more children in the future with you - he would officially ask you to be his boyfriend/girlfriend or marriage, after all, he needs a partner by his side, especially you who are carrying his offspring.

✧ KUAI LIANG ✧

The two of you also had a friendship with benefits, always together in the lonely early mornings that Kuai would look for you for pleasure and affection, but unlike his brother, Kuai would treat you as if the two of you were already dating, giving you gifts or even forgetting and saying that You were his boyfriend/girlfriend. Over time he started to stay even more at your house, always having sex in every possible place - and often without a condom - so soon your period was late, you felt sick and took a pregnancy test, confirming your suspicions. That night Liang and you had sex again, while you sat next to him on the mattress on the floor with the pregnancy test under the pillow, obviously you were scared, as you saw Kuai look at you worried. "-Is there a problem sweetheart?" -He said, caressing your naked and sweaty waist, after sex, while you sighed and took out the small pregnancy test, with the positive sign, showing it to him without saying anything. Kuai would remain silent for a few minutes, looking at the test in hand while he finally smiled slightly, looking at you fondly. "-Was that it (Y/N)? Why were you afraid to tell me? I'm literally in love with you, it's not just sex for me, I really love you. And we're together for everything, especially this." -Kuai Liang said smiling, hugging you right away, while stroking your hair. "-You will look beautiful as a father/mother, with a huge belly, carrying our child, our family will start now, you and me."

✧ SYZOTH ✧

He's going to faint, no joke, but it's from happiness. Regardless of your relationship, he will be over the moon. Syzoth always wanted a family again, he lost one so he knows the pain and loneliness it is, being alone in the world and without hope, he found you and you started small meetings, sometimes sex, sometimes just watching a movie together or just talking - or sometimes all together, it depends on the mood of the two of you on the day - And this will last for many days, months or even years, he always wanted a title, but you never wanted to put labels on what you two had, what you left He was upset to be honest, but he continued with your conformist carnal encounters while trying to settle for sexual chemistry. But that didn't last long with a fight between the two of you for exactly that reason, you didn't want a relationship but he did, leading to the two of you not seeing each other for two weeks and in the meantime, you discovered you were pregnant, becoming desperate and looking for Syzoth immediately. He was shocked, paralyzed, he was breathing heavily and then passed out seconds later, but he woke up quickly. "-Am I going to be a father??? Am I really going to be a father again?" -Syzoth spoke with a happy smile, taking your shoulders, as he pulled you into a hug, jumping with joy, shedding a few tears in the process, he quickly knelt down, looking at your belly, and placing a kiss over the fabric of your blouse. "-I already love you my child, me and (Y/N) will love you very much." -He stood up, wiping away his tears while looking at you with affection. "-Do you agree to make things official between the two of us (Y/N)? And raise our child? I promise to do everything to protect you, as the father/mother of my son."

✧ REIKO ✧

The two of you were the classic: enemies to lovers, always fighting with each other to stand out more for General Shao Khan or even falling to the punch - without losing the friendship, just a friendly spar, where Reiko and you left bleeding - But there was always sexual tension between the two of you, it was obvious to anyone who saw you, and one day, it became real, with you and Reiko taking a shower after a mission together in the same bathroom and with him teasing you and you teasing back, when you saw it, you had been sitting on Reiko's dick for two hours while he moaned loudly echoing through the box, the sex was incredible and you liked this concept of hating each other and competing in front of everyone, but meeting every night - even though the competitions also applied in the bedroom, with the two of you challenging each other with who was going to cum faster... Reiko always lost - but soon the two of you became more intimate, more passionate, starting to do it without a condom, because Reiko loves make a good creampie in your pussy - after a few weeks, you realized that you were sick and more unwell for training, making him also worry, so you went to an exo terra healer, proving that you were expecting Reiko's child . You didn't know how to tell him, but you didn't have to, he followed you and heard everything, waiting for you outside with your arms crossed and a slight smile on your face. "-Well, I think we're going to be parents now, right? And this child is going to be very dear to me (Y/N), you can trust me." -Reiko spoke sincerely, while placing a hand on your shoulder, kissing you on the forehead. "-And we both know that this child will be like me, he will be born strong like me and-" -He spoke but you soon disagreed, leading the two of you to walk hand in hand while talking/arguing amicably with whoever your son was going to look like.

✧ SHANG TSUNG ✧

He was never a sentimental man, but you were the only person who got to see a softer side of Shang, he was still arrogant but less selfish when it came to you. The two of you met in his castle, where he studied various spells every night and liked to show off to you, at first it was just a friendship, but Shang fell in love with you which led you to have sex on his table, with first time showing you a soft side, as he thrust his hips into you, moaning loudly as he bit your neck. This became a routine, mainly sitting on Shang's lap with his entire dick in your pussy, while he studied some spells, letting you enjoy the pleasure. He's different from everyone else on the list, he knows you're pregnant before you can even open your mouth to tell him. You ran into his castle with tears in your eyes, ready to tell him, but he smiled at you with his back turned, it wasn't a forced or sarcastic smile, it was something soft, something real. "-Oh really? I already knew my cute little voodoo doll, have you already chosen a name? How about something big? After all, this child is mine." -He spoke with his chin raised and genuinely happy, as he called you closer, putting you on his lap and quickly kissing you, caressing your cheek. "-I will take care of you two, you as the father/mother of my child, and this child... I really want you by my side (Y/N)."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When You’re on Your Period

Fluff

JJK men x f! or uterus owning reader (no pronouns used)

This was a request from a Wattpad user but I hope you all enjoy it here as well :)

Warnings: mentions of blood

Note: some scenarios you're dating, some you aren't, but all have romantic/caring undertones!

Yuji:

You texted Yuji, devastated that your date plans were now ruined by the onslaught of your period. You were dealing with cramps that were far too painful to allow you to go anywhere and enjoy yourself so you opted to stay home, rescheduling for another time. Of course, Yuji came over immediately, your faithful boyfriend not wanting you to suffer alone.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you, babe?"

Yuji was staring at you with those big puppy dog eyes you adored and for a split second, all the pain you were feeling from your cramps seized.

"I'm sure," you said, squeezing out a small smile while trying not to groan at the discomfort that came back, "but thank you anyway. I really appreciate you asking."

"I just hate to see you in pain like this every month."

Now he was frowning. You were about to tell him not to worry about it, as it was something you just got accustomed to over the years, but his face lit up and you knew he had a great idea cross his mind.

"How about I make some snacks and we can watch movies all night! I know that always makes me feel better!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his determination, grateful for such a sweet boyfriend.

Megumi:

"What's wrong? Your sparring hasn't been very good all day."

Megumi never minced his words and while you usually loved his brutal honesty, today was the one day where you really took what he said to heart. Trying not to cry from frustration, you silently grabbed your bag, eager to leave the training area before you would burst into tears.

"Y/n, wait, I'm sorry," Megumi said, not wanting you to leave, "I didn't mean to make you upset-"

"I'm on my period, everything hurts, and I just want to lay down," you pleaded.

Megumi's eyes widened before settling back into his neutral expression. "Go get some rest, I'll make you tea. Do you have painkillers and a heating pad?"

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "I do, and thank you for asking, but... how do you know about all of that stuff?"

"Tsumiki," he said, bashfully rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I used to help her during her... time of the month."

You pulled Megumi into a bone crushing hug, catching him off guard at first before he melted into your embrace.

"She was extremely lucky to have you around," you murmured into his hair, "as am I."

Yuta:

The ever perceptive boy he was, Yuta noticed you were acting off all day but he didn't know how to approach the subject because a) he's so awkward with his words around you, and b) he didn't want to make you any more upset than you already were. However, he wasn't going to watch you struggle by yourself without at least offering some semblance of help so he swallowed his fear and greeted you as you tore through the cabinets of the common kitchen.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked, sporting a kind smile.

"I could've sworn I had a whole stash of chocolate bars in here somewhere," you muttered.

"Oh, those? I think I saw Gojo sensei eating them last week."

You froze. "What?"

Yuta suddenly felt scared as he saw your face darken. "Y-yeah, he has a sweet tooth, a-and, you know, I didn't know who they belonged to or else I would've told you-"

"It's not your fault, Yuta, don't worry about it. Thanks for telling me."

He watched as you began to get up from the ground, your expression contorting into a grimace. He hurried over to you to help you stand, lifting you by your hand.

"Are you alright? I've noticed you haven't been yourself all day and I didn't want to be rude by asking, but now it looks like you're in pain and I'm worried."

Yuta and his word vomit made you smile for the first time in nearly a week. "You're always so sweet. Yes, I'm alright, I'm on my period and I've had some pretty bad cramps."

He nodded in understanding. "That explains the chocolate. I know where Toge keeps a stash of his own if you want me to show you!"

"I would love that," you said, bringing him into a hug that left him a blushing mess.

Inumaki:

You were currently sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone and wishing the throbbing discomfort from your period would stop, even if for only a moment. You were pulled from your mindless social media swiping by a knock at your door.

"Come in!"

Toge entered your room, multiple bags hanging from his arms that he unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Out tumbled a barrage of snacks, both sweet and salty. He also brought over a video game console that he, thankfully, had put down earlier before throwing everything on the ground.

"Tuna tuna!" he chirped happily.

"It looks like you're moving in," you replied, laughing, "but seriously, thank you for coming over. You always make me feel better."

You saw his eyes crinkle with joy, meaning underneath his collar, he was smiling as well. All of a sudden you were hit with a wave of pain and you grabbed onto your stomach, taking in a sharp breath. Toge was quick to hold your hand and lead you to the couch, also grabbing your heating pad and a blanket so you could get comfortable. He then placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before typing a message on his phone.

Don't worry, kitten whiskers, daddy's here to take care of you.

Shaking your head, you replied, "You are such a weirdo."

He grinned mischievously. But you love me anyway.

"Unfortunately."

Noritoshi:

"Hey, you left your book in my room so I brought it back-woah, what happened in here?"

When you were on your period, you found it difficult to stay on top of your daily chores, thus the reason why your room looked like a disaster and why Noritoshi was very concerned for your wellbeing.

"Ugh, I'm sorry for the mess," you said, sitting up with a groan. You had a bad headache and no energy to clean up the piles of clothes and other discarded items. "I'm on my period and just have no motivation whatsoever."

"I see," he replied. "Don't worry. You get some rest and I'll help clean up a bit if that's alright."

"Are you sure? I know you're probably really busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, y/n."

You felt your face warm as he gave you a small smile and began working: folding clean clothes neatly, throwing away trash, putting items back on shelves. In no time, your room was as spotless as the day you moved in--or more so.

"If there's anything else I can do to help, please, text or call me. I won't hesitate to come back over," he said earnestly.

"Thank you so much for doing that, it means a lot to me," you told him.

"It's the least I could do. I'll see you around," he said from the threshold.

He paused.

"Do you like tea?" he suddenly called from over his shoulder.

"I do."

He hummed in acknowledgment and closed the door behind him.

A half hour later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, there was no one there, but you were greeted with a to go cup and a note written in the most beautiful handwriting.

My family's special tea remedy. I hope this helps with any pain. Feel better soon.

K.N.

Todo:

You were out shopping with your boyfriend Aoi when you felt a strange sensation wash over you, looking off into the distance akin to Alice from Twilight when she got struck by visions. In a flash, you were shouting apologies to Aoi while running to the bathroom. Luckily, you had somehow made it to the toilet before your period had fully begun, your keen senses saving your outfit. However, you didn't have any menstrual products with you. You sat in the stall for a long while, going over your choices in this situation. You could try waiting for someone to come in, ask them for a pad or tampon, but it was a quiet area and you didn't foresee a whole ton of people coming in. You could also do the famous "toilet paper pad" but those were never reliable and usually led to an even bigger mess. You sighed, reaching for your phone. Your boyfriend was going to have to come to your rescue.

You: sorry I just started my period and don't have anything with me

You: could you pls buy me some pads/tampons? <3

Todolly Hot bf: OF COURSE BABY JUST HANG TIGHT

Todolly Hot bf: :D

Not even 5 minutes later, you got another text.

Todolly Hot bf: ILL BE RIGHT THERE

You heard Aoi's loud voice boom from outside the bathroom.

"Y/n! I'm coming in!"

You first saw his hair peeking over the top of the stall, then you were greeted with the sound of a plethora of products as he shuffled through his bag, eagerly telling you what he bought.

"I got regular, maxi, super maxi, long regular with wings, super extra long maxi with extra long wings..."

As he continued on in the background, you smiled at how lucky you were to have such a doting partner.

Ino:

You felt bad for turning down Ino's invitation to go out, but you just weren't in the mood to be in public right now. Your period was making everything a hassle and you wanted to just relax at home. To no one's surprise, Ino showed up at your door in hopes of making you feel a little better. What did surprise you, though, was the huge basket of goodies he was currently holding.

"I got you a little something," he said, his boyish grin on full display.

"That's like, 10 things more than a little, Ino," you said with a laugh.

"I felt bad because I don't know exactly what you're going through but I do know what it's like to feel down so I hope this can kinda help with that at least."

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You really know how to make me feel special."

Ino became meek, blushing at your affection, before an excited look took over his face. "Babe! You have to see this right now."

He thrust something soft into your grasp.

"It's a shark plushie! You know, 'cuz the whole shark... week... thing..."

You could tell Ino was rethinking that sentence as it came out of his mouth but even though it was cheesy, you still loved the gift and the thought that went behind it.

Gojo:

"Satoru, I love you, but if you don't be quiet right now I will literally smother you."

"Huh? You usually love the sound of my perfectly on key voice."

You boyfriend was busy singing badly to a song on his phone and you, thanks to your period, had a raging headache, making your patience as thin as a credit card.

"While true, I'm not on my period those other days."

"Thankfully."

That earned him a smack on the arm. "I'm going to sit on the couch. My cordless heat pad broke and that's the only place the other one's cord will reach."

You gave him a kiss and set off for the family room, leaving him alone. He didn't really know how to take care of someone, but he had his own love language that you learned, over time, was how he showed he cared: gift giving.

Immediately, Satoru got on his phone and bought the nicest, most expensive cordless heat pad the market had to offer, scheduled to be delivered at his door step in less than 3 hours. Feeling bad for unknowingly annoying you, he researched things that could help with period pains so he could make it up to you. He quickly made his way to you and stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles, all while giving you a smirk that spelled trouble.

"Get comfy, baby. I'm giving you a massage."

Geto:

"Talk to me, my love. What's going on?"

You had woken up feeling horrible, your period wreaking havoc on your body. Your stomach was the next thing to betray you and now you were locked in the bathroom, crying because of how horrible you felt. You knew Suguru would be worried for you, but you found it hard to find the words to describe the hell you were in at that moment.

"Darling?"

"Sorry, Suguru, I just don't feel good at all. My period is really messing with me," you managed to sputter out in between tears.

"Oh honey," his soft voice soothed through the closed door, "I'm sorry. Let me help you. I'll get your heating pad ready and some water for pain medicine, okay?"

When you were finished in the bathroom, you saw that your boyfriend had made an oasis in your bedroom. The curtains were drawn, the lights were low, relaxing music was playing in the background, your heating pad was set up with a glass of water and a cup of tea on your nightstand.

"I'll draw you a bath later," he purred, taking a hold of your hand and walking you to your bed. He smoothed the hair away from your forehead as you laid back down, giving you a sweet kiss on the exposed skin.

"Rest well, my love."

Nanami:

"L/n, are you feeling okay? Forgive my bluntness, but you look distressed."

And distressed you were. You were on the worst day of your period, your flow giving you unending problems like nausea and pain, and of course this had to happen while you were working. You didn't want to make Kento uncomfortable by telling him your personal details, but you knew he wouldn't be satisfied without a real answer.

"I'm on my period," you confessed, sparing him the details.

"Oh, I see."

Silence.

He spoke up again. "If I may, would you allow me to cook you dinner tonight? You'll need some rest after the work day is finished. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

Naturally, you accepted, and that's why Kento was in your kitchen that evening, filling your apartment with the most mouthwatering aromas.

"I made chicken with a sauce featuring ginger and turmeric, along with sides of spinach and quinoa," he explained, serving you. "There's plenty of iron, protein, and anti inflammatory properties in this dish, all of which should help you during this time of the month."

When he placed your plate in front of you, you gently grasped his hand before it left your reach. "Thank you. For all of this."

He had a look of surprise that melted into a tender gaze. "Of course. I'm always here for you."

Choso:

You were struggling for your life on your couch. Okay, not really, but it felt like one wrong move and you'd bleed out for good. Being on your period was never fun, but having an attentive boyfriend certainly was.

"Y/n? More tea?"

"Can I get you a heating pad?"

"Which blanket would you like?"

"Would you like a massage?"

"I made cookies!"

These were all things that your boyfriend Choso had been saying to you all day, and you couldn't lie, you enjoyed being taken care of like that. Right now you were indulging in the double chocolate cookies he had just baked while he sat with his legs criss crossed on the ground in front of you.

"How are they? Are they baked enough? Too overdone? Not chocolatey enough?"

"Choso," you laughed, ruffling his hair, "it's delicious. Everything you've done for me today has been beyond perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend."

He smiled. "I just want to help. Since I can't take away your pain, I want to lessen it in any way I can."

Toji:

Waking up after a night at your boyfriend's house was always a pleasant experience for you, and this morning was no different.

Until you noticed a very unpleasant sticky feeling beneath you.

You gasped as you saw your worst nightmare come true--you had started your period and bled all over yourself and Toji's bed. You heard clattering from the kitchen meaning Toji wasn't in the bathroom so you ran in there as fast as you could, slamming the door behind you.

"You alright in there?" Toji asked.

"Umm... not really," you admitted, ripping open his bathroom cabinet to search for a pad or tampon. "Don't go in your room, okay?"

"Eh? Why?"

Your face burned with embarrassment. "I... started my period and ruined your sheets. I promise I'll clean it all, I just need a second."

You groaned. His cabinets were practically bare, save for the minimal amounts of his own hygiene products.

"You know what I do for a living, right? A little bit of blood isn't gonna scare me off, sweetheart. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. You just get cleaned up."

"Thanks Toji. You don't happen to have pads or tampons, do you?"

"Uhh... I have rags?"

You rolled your eyes. "This isn't the 1800s, that's not gonna work."

"Right. Tell me what you need, I'm going to the store."

[haikyu-mp4]

Sly foxes

word count; 950 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

Honestly, the coach was the least of your concerns going into this project. Everyone knew that Inarizaki’s volleyball team’s biggest defence was their captain, Kita Shinsuke.

You met with him for a lunch period, giving him a detailed explanation of your project and how you would like to proceed with it. He gave you some suggestions and rules, also making sure you knew that they couldn’t spent too much time on it.

Kita really liked how detailed you were and how you clearly came prepared to meet with him. You arrived at the precise agreed time and spent even less time than he expected, despite including all the necessary details. After he gave his two cents, he happily approved the project and asked you to spend the rest of the lunch period with him. Of course, you wouldn’t say no after he so kindly approved your project, but that wasn’t your only motivation. Their captain is really quite pretty up close.

D-day arrived and you started off with the first-years just like planned. Most of them were very sweet and seemed to appreciate a bit of attention even though they weren’t starting players. The problem arose when you got to the second-years. The ones Kita warned you about, even though he didn’t have to. You definitely heard of the Miya twins before.

Starting with Atsumu. “Yer taking up my practice time, pretty. Better make it worth my time.”

“I can skip you if you want, leave you out of the brochure,” you answered, not giving him much of a reaction. He begrudgingly posed for you and tried to casually flex his muscles, definitely not giving up on his first try of charming you. Still, to no avail.

Then there was Osamu. He was nice enough, trying to ask you about food you like, to which you answered normally. It was disturbing the picture taking and you wanted to stay on schedule. Unfortunately, the food talk made his stomach growl, so he ended up blushing and giving up his attempt so he could finally finish and leave to get a snack.

After the twins, you tried your best with Suna. When walking past you, he ghosted a hand over your hip as if on accident, and leaned down so he didn’t need to speak too loud. “How do you want me?” he asked, hoping to send some chills down your spine when his deep voice hit your ear, breath curling around it. You pointed to his spot and asked him casually to look like an intimidating middle blocker. Kita gave you a rundown of the positions beforehand.

“You look a little… bored,” you said with a careful smile, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way. Suna deadpanned and sighed, realising his flirting didn’t work on you and he just couldn’t be bothered putting in too much work. So he sharpened his eyes and got the photoshoot over with, complaining to Atsumu about how stale you were and he totally agreed.

The rest had realised by then that there was no getting to you, and they all decided the bet was off. Yes, the second-years bet on who you would be most charmed by.

That’s why you sighed with relief when you got to the third-years. Kita smiled softly and patted your shoulder, reassuring you that your process was well planned and executed, which in turn means the result will be as well.

All the pictures came out really good, though you did have a special vision for Kita’s that made them your biased favourites. He had his jacket resting over his shoulders and you and Akagi agreed he looked pretty cool. After packing up your stuff and going back into the gym, you turn to the team with Kita by your side. “Everyone, please thank y/n for the effort. I’m sure this will help us show off our best sides at nationals,” he said, looking at you while your cheeks flushed red from his compliments. The team all bowed, but the second-years looked at you and their captain with a suspicious squint.

“Thank you guys for your cooperation! And thank you, Kita, for allowing it,” you said, bowing to the captain and then the team before finally taking your leave.

“Did Kita just smile at her?” Atsumu whispered in shock.

“Did she blush? He just said thanks?” Suna whispered with disbelief.

“What just happened?” Ginjima threw in there.

Aran huffed a laugh and hit Suna hard on the back, as he stood the closest. “What, you guys don’t think our captain has game?”

Kita had already asked to take you out for tea outside of school and looked forward to your date this weekend. The second years might just have gained even more respect for their captain.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion was not a "corrupt" magistrate.

Hello again. Just more opinion about my favorite battle buddy. Warning, trigger words in use. Game spoilers.

It's not quite set in stone that Astarion really was a magistrate, but we are going to go with the idea he was for this thought pocket. Also this is just game as it is now info use.

I don't believe he was corrupt magistrate. There were a few things in the game that called that out, but one in particular really set it in stone for me.

His response to the Ansur lair puzzle regarding justice.

Astarion: “Mercy?! Please. Justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.”

This makes me think he was a bit of a hard ass as a magistrate, but not corrupt. Had he been dealing dirty in the background I really feel like this answer would have been more dismissive or flippant. But he is pretty intent that this is his stance. Very, iv said this a thousand times, type feel.

I think, he was more of a by the book, law is law type. You murder and rape you swing from the gallows. You steal from a shop keeper, you do time. Period.

My theory is, he got beat up because he wasn't lenient with a member of the Gur that was on trial.

"Leniency?! You have been found guilty of negligence resulting in the death of a innocent! You are owed nothing!"

Could you hear it?

"But he talks about being hedonistic and indulgent all the time. "

Yes, but most patriar level citizens were spoiled entitled brats that did what they desired. Have you talked to some of them in the upper city? Yeeesh.

Was he arrogant? Most likely. Prejudice? Obviously (insert gnomes here). But being a haughty jerk does not make one evil.

Sex, nudity, orgies, parties, over indulging etc are not taboo in Faerun. If everybody is consenting to be being naked in a fountain, hopefully in a private villa garden, its not a crime. He talks about that like its a memory, but I like to think his wine drunk giggly ass was actually in that fountain.

If you want to have a little rabbit hole fun, break down the name. Faerun = Fae Run = Run by the Fae. And last I checked, fairies were always down for some naked in the water time. I mean, come on, you can go to pound town with a bear. (No offence, Halsin.) You think they are going to draw the line at how may wieners you can have in the same pot? I think not.

I think the criminal behavior came after he was turned. Cazador may have been targeting him, but not because they were involved. But maybe due to him looking like his old master Vellioth? And he took advantage of a situation. Who knows, lots of ideas there.

"But he's always getting onto Tav for doing the "right" thing."

Yup, Tav is being too trusting and getting too involved with other peoples problems. Why is this an issue for Astarion? Kindness was what got him entombed for a year. He cared about that sweet mans life and was severally punished for it. Its akin to being mauled by a dog and then watching people just reach out a pet every one they see. The anxiety of that attack is still there and it paints every encounter with its opinion. Danger.

"He's not smart enough."

Oh I bet he is. You can be whip smart at a subject and socially akward at the same time. I'm very good at my job. I know it inside and out and can give you any detail, rule, configuration at the drop of a hat in the most professional and proficient way possible. But ask me to be eloquent in a social situation? HA! You are better off asking a rock to fart. Unrelated.

"But he wants to ascend, and that's evil."

That is more about who is is after years of torment and abuse. Not before.

I think the rogue role was adopted to stay alive while hunting. And what a gods awful fate to be turned into the thing you hated the most. A criminal.

I'm sure Caz was real tickled by that. Expletive Adjective.

[disneyprincemuke]

you don't get to tell me about sad * fem!driver

outtakes of her year that i didn't know where to fit lol so this is the last(ish) angst installment

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver

notes: iM BACK BABYYY

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

so she runs from her garage again. just another weekend where everything has skewed from what was discussed and there is no reasoning to be done.

she finished the race damn near last over a pitstop that ran longer than it should have.

the minute sebastian could not spew an excuse she would hear out was the minute she stopped listening to him during the race. and honestly, it was the only way she could salvage not finishing last of the pack.

“let’s talk about it,” sebastian says, hurriedly chasing her down as she storms into the racing home, her presence immediately silencing the chatter in the room. “let me talk you through what happened. it’s not your fault.”

“i know it’s not!” her distress is made known, echoing in the air of the room. she stops in her tracks and turns to face sebastian still by the door, flinching back. “how could that be my fault? i was doing my end of the bargain as a driver!”

he takes a deep breath. “rocky, just listen to me, okay?”

“it’s not fair! none of this weekend was my fault!” she shrieks, turning back around and trudging up the stairs loudly. “the team fucked me over, that’s what happened! i can’t possibly think of a reason you could come up with to excuse what happened!”

“i’m not excusing it, i’m just–”

“oh, god, sebastian!” she stomps her foot on the ground to demand sebastian’s attention. which surprisingly works. “just admit it — the team fucked me over. point blank period, that’s literally what happened.”

sebastian sucks in a deep breath. “yes, we did. and we’re extremely sorry. but–”

“’but’ again,” she laughs dryly, rolling her eyes. she makes a sharp turn for her driver’s room and holds a hand up to stop the step he tries to take towards her. “take your apology to the headlines being drafted about me as we go in circles over this, sebastian.”

“you know i’m not breaking up with you,” matt says amidst the silence that they’ve been sitting in as he packs his bag. “i just need a break.”

“from me,” she points out shakily, dropping her head low.

“from this cycle.” he lifts his head and sits back to look at her.

she sits on the edge of her bed, feet hovering slightly over the floor. she watches her feet swing slightly, counting in her head, desperate not to lose the last remaining sanity she feels she has.

initially, she sat in the vacant room in tears, refusing to watch him pack up to leave her all alone in her apartment. she wallowed in her woes in a dark corner before she eventually dragged herself back into her bedroom.

she’s been sitting here watching him in silence ever since, trying to find the words in her head to say something to him.

maybe he’ll change his mind; maybe he’ll stay if she says the right thing.

“yeah, i get that.”

“i don’t think you do.” he stands from his position on the ground and walks over to her on the bed. he takes the empty spot next to her, resting his hand above hers that grips the mattress tightly. he feels her grip loosen slightly. “i still love you, bub.”

she shakes her head with a sigh. “i would have stopped a long time ago if i were you. i’m not very nice.”

“it doesn’t work like that,” he squeezes her hand, “you’re having a hard time. i get that and it’s okay. but i want you to want the help i’m giving you. i’m not going to force it on you if you’re just going to keep pushing me away when i try.”

“i don’t know why i keep doing that,” she admits with a scoff. she drops her back on the bed behind her and looks up at the ceiling of her bedroom. “i’m not usually like this, i promise. i’m better than this.”

“i know.” matt mirrors her actions and drops himself on the mattress.

she wants to say she’s sorry and that she’s thankful for him sticking around longer than he had to. it’s at the edge of her tongue but she simply cannot get herself to admit that she’s wrong. that perhaps this time, someone is finally right about her.

“do you, really?” she hums, “i’m the worst.”

“i think you should give yourself a little more credit,” he sighs, reaching out for her hand again. this time, she moves her hand away before he can grab it. “i’ll come home soon, okay? i’ll come back for you, i promise.”

she repeats in her head the gameplan she’d drafted with sebastian. the one that seemed so foolproof all weekend that made her believe she could turn it all around.

instead, she’s standing on the grass next to her wrecked car, another unfortunate mishap she’s sure would make her talk of the town again.

she puts her hands on her hips as her eyes trail over to her blown tyre. then she remembers that her crash wasn’t caused all by herself.

“are you alright?” charles asks softly, slowly approaching her as he takes his helmet off. “unlucky weekend.”

she glances over her shoulder where he approaches her. she forces a small grin to her face and tries to wave his concerns away. “i’m fine.”

her chest starts to hurt slightly, tears prickling at her eyes.

this is not the time and place to be breaking down. especially not at someone like charles because surely, something went wrong with her that caused this.

“it’s my fau–”

surely, it can’t be his fault. there’s no way that the person she’s looked up could cause this crash.

but there’s also a voice in her head telling her to believe charles. he wouldn’t be apologising if he didn’t actually think that he caused it.

“unfortunate,” she chuckles. she swallows the scream threatening to make itself known and shrugs at charles. “i’ll see you in the paddocks, mate.”

“thought i might find you here.”

“fuck off, max.”

the older driver laughs, walking over to her with hands in the pocket of his jeans. he drops himself on the little platform she’s resting on.

“everyone’s looking for you,” max chuckles, innocently taking a sip from his water bottle. “i heard seb panicking and sending out a search party to get you.”

“i know,” she snorts, “i heard him screaming and delegating people to find me.”

the only reason max knew where to find her is because he is the one who introduced her to this place. he had found her holding her tears in at some point last season walking around the paddocks and he whisked her away without another word.

it’s a pretty obscure location in the paddocks, one that max often resided in when it got too chaotic and loud. she’s the only one he’s ever given this sort of information to.

“how’s everything?” he asks with a sigh, leaning back on the wall behind them. “matt flew back to the states already?”

she nods and drops her head, picking at the grass beneath them. while she truly tried to keep her problems to herself, max approached her a week prior when he saw her entering the paddocks all by herself.

he had asked why the man, typically found on her arm every race weekend, was not with her today.

she softly admitted that they’re on a break, prompted by her reactionary behaviour from how her year is going so far. still, she tries to keep the confession minimal.

it’s hard enough to watch your boyfriend pack his things in silence to leave you behind. it’s even harder to admit that there’s nobody else to blame but yourself.

her mishaps every weekend on the paddocks, she can point all the fingers she wants. but when it came to her matt, there was nobody else she could pin it on. there were 2 people in that relationship and she knows that she’s the one that’s burned it down.

“i’m so sorry,” max sighs, resting his cheek in his hand. he props his elbow on his knee as she leans forward. “that must be really hard for you.”

she shrugs. it’s really not that big of a deal. or, at least, it shouldn’t be to somebody else in a happy relationship of his own. “it’s my fault, anyway. i don’t blame him.”

“you can still be upset about it,” he mutters. “i know you love him, so i don’t imagine any of this is making you feel better at all.” he puts a hand on her back and rubs circles, something he honestly wishes someone had done for him when he was younger. “it’s just me, mate.”

“it’s alright, but thanks for trying to be there for me,” she grimaces, turning momentarily to give him a small smile. “but i don’t reckon i get to feel bad for deliberately pushing him over the edge.”

she’d been fine all day. she thought she was genuinely getting better: she’d even gone for a walk in the sun and felt enlightened most of the hours she’d been awake.

that was until she had sat down at her dining table with dinner, consumed whole by the silence and emptiness of her apartment. without understanding why, she lost her appetite as her stomach started to churn.

her heart feels like it’s skipping beats from how unwell she suddenly felt.

she finds herself on the floor of her bedroom, phone pressed up against her ear as the ringing pulls her in and out of her trance.

her world has spinning for the better part of 5 minutes, her chest feeling like it’s closing in on itself and the framed picture in her peripheral vision taunts her.

there’s no climbing out of this rut; she’s almost sure she will be stuck in here forever. she either lives with the fact that she’s a failure or it’ll someday kill her.

“hello? is this really you?”

tears she hadn’t realised were there start to fall out of her eyes. the sob she didn’t know she had in her throat fills the room as she drops her head into her other hand.

“i don’t know why i called,” she pauses with a soft sob, “sorry, i should go.”

“no,” a firm voice demands, “just stay on the line.”

“okay.”

she had just spoken with matt this morning, on a short 5-minute welfare check video call. she told him she was feeling slightly better with the biggest smile on her face.

now she doubts herself if she’d even meant it. if she was truly better, she wouldn’t be here on the floor feeling worse than when she woke up this morning.

going backwards isn’t supposed to be the way she’s going.

it’s always forward. if there’s no progress towards the betterment of her situation, then she’s simply not trying hard enough.

she should try harder. it’s the only way.

“hey,” matt coos softly to catch her attention. “if you need me there, just say the word. i’ll come home.”

she wants to say yes. she even wants to break into a louder sob and admit that she misses him; probably might even be going crazy without his presence as of late.

she hasn’t got anything figured out.

but instead, she says, “i’ll be okay.”

being alone in her hotel room is the last thing she wanted for herself, the silence too overbearing for her to handle. though asking to hang out with her friends she watched leave together to get dinner wasn’t an option either.

so she opted to lock herself in her driver’s room until someone chases her out. perhaps she’ll sleep over without anybody finding out.

she’d coddled herself up in her beanbag under a blanket, reading away furiously on the things people said about her.

sure, she shouldn’t be on these sites speaking ill of her, but there’s nobody to stop her. she’s fallen down the rabbit hole of everyone’s opinions of her once more and she can’t seem to stop.

she’s stooped even lower this time: she’s on social media reading what the public has to say about her.

it’s not just about whoever in the industry is saying now.

she never tried to let anyone’s opinion of her, in forms of tweets and social media posts, get to her much.

but a post highlighting about the two mere instances where she had unintentionally lashed out on matt in the paddocks did it for her. and the one time she had a disagreement with sebastian in her racing home after a pitstop mishap.

“for fuck’s sake,” she cries, throwing the blanket off her.

she can’t throw her ipad. she starts to heave, feeling it all coming down on her once more.

she grabs the closest thing to her. and unfortunately, it’s the very mug she’d gotten 2 years ago as a present for sebastian.

you know, the matching mugs she got as a celebration for scoring points as a race engineer and driver duo on the grid.

and it does what a mug would do if you threw it against the wall: it shatters. into pieces.

it’s repairable if she really thought about it rationally. the handle has popped out along with another large piece straying by its side.

only then she realises what she’s done.

“oh, fuck.” she sits hurriedly and brushes the stray hairs from her face. “oh, no.”

she scrambles from the ground and runs over to the other side of the room where her favourite mug sits in 3 separate pieces, tears prickling at her eyes as she realises what she’s done.

she gathers it into her hands with a heavy cry, dropping her hands into her lap. if she’d known sooner that this mug was what she’d grabbed out of fury, she wouldn’t have chucked it across the room.

“come on,” she whispers to herself, trying to fit the pieces together as if it would magically mend itself. “fix yourself. be a mug again?”

“i thought you were back at the hotel– are you okay?”

“i didn’t mean to do it,” she cries at the familiar voice and accent, lifting her head and hands to show him what she’s done. “i didn’t mean to, i didn’t even realise what i was throwing until it broke into this many pieces.”

“hey,” sebastian coos, softly closing the door behind him. he walks over to where she kneels on the ground and grabs her shoulder. “you’re okay. it’s okay.”

she shakes her head profusely and rests her head on his shoulder. “i didn’t mean it. i didn’t want to break it — i still like you, i promise. you’re like my dad when we’re on the road. i’m s– i didn’t mean it.”

“relax.” he squeezes her shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. “it’s just a mug. we’ll just get a new one, okay? don’t even worry about it.”

he waits for a second as she processes his words, slightly hesitant to agree with him. she nods slowly, “are you sure? you’re not mad?”

“i’m not mad,” sebastian hums with a smile. “let’s get you back to your hotel room, okay? i was just about to head out.”

“okay.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @iwilleatyourgod @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Accidentally Conquering Humanity

*Audience claps as talk show begins

Human Host: Good morning world, and welcome to the start of your day.

Human Host: I’m your host David Jefferson.

Human Host 2: And I’m Joy Menferd.

David: Our first guest today is a recent tech entrepreneur visiting our little planet today all the way from Vengon VI; please give a warm welcome to Kelnor Hi’tel!

*Audience begins to clap as Kelnor slowly levitates on to the stage from the back. They nervously wave their tentacles at the human gathering before sitting down on the couch next to Joy.

Kelnor: *Slit in mouth vibrates but never opens

Kelnor: Greetings human David and human Joy.

Kelnor: Kelnor is most joyful to be on this human entertainment circuit.

David: *Laughs and smiles

David: Well if that isn’t the warmest welcome I’ve had since we invited Drumstick the acrobatic chicken.

Joy: Didn’t we have him on the show last week?

David: *Shrugs

David: What can I say; it’s been a long week.

Audience: *Laughs

David: Now Kelnor I understand you are here to show us one of your latest inventions.

Kelnor: This is correct.

*Kelnor’s tentacle reaches into pocket and withdraws a small vile

Kelnor: Kelnor calls it “Serum PS”.

David: Did you come up with that name?

Kelnor: Kelnor did.

David: Then I would invest in a marketing firm before you put that to market

Audience: *Laughs

Kelnor: Kelnor thought it an appropriate name as it has a connection to your people.

Joy: Oh?

Joy: And what would that be?

Kelnor: I believe your culture calls it the “Philosopher Stone”.

Audience: *Quiet gasps

David: If I’m not mistaken, that is the legend of a stone that can turn metal to gold or give its user eternal life?

Kelnor: That is correct.

Joy: He learned that watching harry potter last night.

David: I’m a raven claw and not ashamed of it.

Audience: *Laughs

David: So are you telling us that this will make us, say, live forever?

Kelnor: *Shakes head

Kelnor: Sadly no.

David: Well that’s a sh-

Kelnor: But it will drastically increase the lifespan of your indentured servants.

Audience: *Awkward silence

Joy: Pardon me?

Kelnor: Kelnor asks for forgiveness.

Kelnor: Human language is still a subject Kelnor is learning.

Kelnor: Kelnor believes you would call them “Pets”.

Audience: *Silence

Joy: Could you repeat that?

Kelnor: How Serum PS works is when it is injected into the body of a creature, it induces the host to begin producing more cells that are more abundant during the development stages of early life.

Kelnor: These cells normally cease production when the host reaches maturity, but with the injection the host begins to produce them again for an extended period of time.

Kelnor: Now while tests have shown that when used on human bodies the desired effect is not reached as the body cannot handle the sudden influx of new cells, your pet’s bodies can handle it as their life spans are much shorter.

Kelnor:  The shorter the original lifespan means it is easier to restart the cell production process without causing harm to the host.

Audience: *Hushed whispers

Joy: So given your tests, how far can you extend the lifespan?

Kelnor: Projections show that the pet host can reach the age of 80 human years before their bodies can no longer accept the influx of newly generated cells much like your human body can.

Joy: Well that is simply fascinating, don’t you think David?

David: How much do you want for that vial?

Joy: David?

David: I’m being totally serious, how much do you want for that vile right now?

Kelnor: Kelnor had not expected to sell so soon.

Joy: *Laughs nervously

Joy: I can tell someone’s-

David: *Snaps at Joy

David: Shut it!

David: *Turns back to Kelnor as audience members begin making some phone calls

David: My retriever Baxter is 18 years old and he’s gone blind, and you say this could make him young and see again?

Kelnor:*Thoughtfully nods

Kelnor: If the blindness was a result of age process then yes, Serum PS should reverse that as the cell influx begins.

David: I’ll wire five thousand credits to you right now for that vial.

Joy: David!

Kelnor: Kelnor had no plans to charge so much for-

Audience member: *Shouts

Audience member: I’ll triple that!

Audience member: My Mr. Snickers needs that more than his dog!

David: I’ll pay 50,000!

David: I’ll even throw in my hover car in the parking lot on top.

David: *Reaches into pocket and pulls out electric key, then shoves it into Kelnor’s tentacle.

David: Top of the line model, can go from 0 to 120 in under a minute and it’s all yours plus the money!

Kelnor: *Looking a bit nervous now; tentacles coiling around their body and the vial as Kelnor can sense the raw desire for the vial.

Kelnor: Kelnor can assure you, human David, and the other human’s watching that there is more than this vial soon to be for sale.

David: But that is the only one right now?

Kelnor: Well, yes, but-

Camera Man: *Leans around camera

Camera Man: I’ll trade you blackmail material on Joy and David for it!

Joy: What?!

Camera Man: They forget to turn off the camera drones when they go back into their dressing rooms and that footage is all yours for that there vial!

Joy: You sick son of a bitch!

Joy: I’ll have you fired and out on the street!

Camera Man: What part of “Blackmail” do you not understand?!

Camera Man: My lizard Finchy’s been acting up lately and doctors don’t know why.

Camera Man: Unless you want that footage showing up on the web you’d best get me that vial, Joy!

*Camera spins around as audience members begin walking towards set with wallets, keys, jewels, and other materialistic items of value all in an attempt to entice Kelnor for the vial.

*Camera feed cuts as several audience members begin fighting each other while David continues upping his offer to Kelnor. --------------------------------

*6 weeks and 357 trillion credits profit later

Kelnor: *Sitting with fellow researchers

Kelnor: Well……..this escalated quickly.

*Researchers all nod slowly as they sip their drinks.

Researcher Tinuk: Tinuk thinks we own another continent of the human planet after this morning’s shipment trade.  

Kelnor: We now own ALL, their continents now.

*Researchers mumble in disbelief

Researcher Nav’ra: When we were making this, Nav’ra honestly expected it to be a novelty item in gag shop on homeworld.

*Researchers collectively nod

Researcher Yuni: Agreed.

Researcher Yuni: Yuni did not think any species would care so much about lower life forms.

Kelnor: *Takes deep swig

Kelnor: Humans are not like other species.

Kelnor: *Refills glass

Kelnor: Kelnor watched elderly human female drive through line of other humans at distribution center to save their pet pig.

Kelnor: *Downs another glass

Researcher Tinuk: What is a pig?

Kelnor: *Shrugs with tentacles

Kelnor: Kelnor still does not know, but it was important enough to decease thirteen humans for in process.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (8)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

I tried to move on after the game. I stayed with Keira for a few days, letting her fuss over me because I knew it would make her feel better. I asked Jona to keep me as a bench player, just for a few extra games and he agreed. The team was treating me differently, they were trying to not make it obvious but it was. Anytime I paired up with someone they would make a silly mistake that they wouldn’t normally do, Cata and Sandra would let shots in that they could’ve easily stopped. There was only one person who wouldn’t go easy on me, Alexia.

I was fed up with it, after walking into the locker with Ale, laughing about something stupid Alba said, I noticed everyone stopping what they were doing and looking at us. Shock and confusion on their faces, over the period of months they had known me, I didn’t laugh much, not outwardly happy, so this was new for them.

“Can you all please stop acting like I’m made of glass? I see it. I see what you’re doing and while I appreciate the concern, I need you all to stop.”

“Milly-“ Keira started

“No Keira. I get it okay, I went MIA for three years and came back different, I get it, but I need you all to treat me like I’m normal, not some broken person who will break if you say the wrong thing.”

A murmur of sorrys went through the room, I missed the way Alexia looked at me, eyes full of admiration and love, but Mapi didn’t miss it. The weeks that followed were good, we won against Athleti Madrid, Villareal and UDG Tenerife, our next upcoming game was against Real Madrid, the El Classico. I was incredibly excited.

The Friday before El Classico, Jona pulled me into his office.

“Hi Amelia, how are you feeling?” He was calm, almost too calm.

“I’m good. Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” panic was arising within me. Was everything about to end before it truly started?

“Oh no! On the contrary. I want you to start tomorrow if you are feeling ok with that? I don’t want to push you into something that you aren’t ready to do.”

“Yes, god yes! Thank you Jona!”

Exiting his office I felt giddy, like a kid on Christmas eve. This was my Christmas eve, I couldn’t contain my excitement when I went into the locker room, it was mainly empty expect for Pina and Kei.

“I’M STARTING TOMORROW BITCHES!” I screamed, scaring the two girls.

“Oh my god! Milly! I am so so proud of you! Come here!” Kei pulled me into a bone crushing hug, Claudia jumping on the both of us shortly after. Unbeknownst to you, Alexia was in the bathroom, hearing everything that was spoken about. She was so incredibly proud, she wanted to come out and congratulate you herself but felt it was better to hide and let you have your moment.

Real Madrid and Barcelona were huge rivals. This game was the game of all games. Id watched it numerous times, either on the TV when I was in my hermit era or live with Eli and Alba, even dragging Emily over a couple of times. To be able to play in it, it was indescribable.  

No one in the locker room seemed nervous, well no one expect me. Jona came in and gave his last speech, followed by Alexia and Irene. Slowly the subs lefts, then the starting 11. Even in the tunnel it was loud, almost overwhelming loud, I couldn’t hear my heartbeat, or what the girls were saying around me. It was all very overwhelming. Alexia noticed, pulling me to the side, her hands cradling my face.

“you’re okay mil. You deserve to be here. You’re the best, show them that.” After kissing my forehead, she was back at the start of the line. She was right, as always, I was okay, and I deserved to be there.

The start of the game was a little shaky, having to adjust quickly to cancelling the noise of the crowd out to be able to hear my teammates and the refs whistle. The first goal came easily, a break in the defence meant I was able to run through after receiving a perfect ball from Alexia. Misa didn’t stand a chance, 1-0. Scoring in front of 90,000 people is something I’ll never get used to.

Goal after goal was scored, by half time it was 5-0. Alexia with two goals and 2 assists, me with 2 goals and 1 assist, Caro scoring the other goal. I felt bad for Misa, she was a great person and a great goalie, her team was just shit. She wouldn’t leave though, she’s too loyal, much like alexia in that respect.

By the end of the game it was 9-0, alexia and myself with a hattrick, Caro with 2 and Vicky with 1. Misa was crying by the end of it, by passing everyone else I went to her. Engulfing her in a hug, I let her cry. Her frustrations were justified, and she deserved to let them out. After a while, she pulled back.

“I am so glad youre back, but im even more glad it took so long to have to play you.” I laughed, I always tried to visit Misa when I could, even making Alexia come with me, not that she hated it.

“I missed you too Misa.”

“you coming out tonight? Please say yes. You owe me a drink or three!”

“Fine you convinced me! I’ll see you later M” I trottered off to say good game to the rest of Real. As I was finishing up with Hayley Raso, a body jumped on my back, and then another one. Claud and Patri were yelling out ‘MVP’ and sent us tumbling to the ground. All three of us laughing as each other.

During our usual walk around to thank the fans, Alexia dragged me towards her mum and sister. 

“Mija! There you are. My god I’m so proud of you!” Eli pulled me into a bone crushing hug, leaving kisses all over my cheeks. Alba quickly joined in. Alexia had walked off to say hi to Olga and some other friends. 

“”You’re coming out right? Please say you are.” Alba asked. 

“Alba-“

“I am yes.” She squealed, pulling me into another hug. 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to mil. It’s not a problem.” Alexia didn’t want to push. It had been a big afternoon already and she would’ve completely understood if I didn’t want too. 

“No it’s fine. I promise. I want to go.” Quickly reassuring the captain that it truly wasn’t a problem. There was a look in her eye, something I couldn’t place. It wasn’t happiness, or sadness, maybe guilt? 

Quickly hugging Olga and Vir, before being pulled back away by Alba, she wanted to talk about outfits for tonight, she had decided to come to my house and get ready, to make sure I didn’t ’run away’, that comment got her a slap on the head from Ale and Eli. 

After slowly making it back to the locker room, the cheers could be heard from the tunnel. Everyone was singing and dancing, some wet from their shower or still in their kits. Deciding to ignore the partying for the mean time and opting for a shower in peace was the smartest decision I’d made. After I was finished I quietly and carefully slipped out of the locker room, wanting to go home and relax for an hour before Alba turned up. 

unintentionally, I fell asleep on the couch as soon as I got home, waking up to multiple loud knocks on the door. Alba was standing there, looking panicked. 

“Jesus Christ I thought you were fucking dead.” She lets out an annoyed sigh 

“Sorry I fell asleep.” 

“You’re not bailing. I don’t care if I have to drag you out.” 

“Relax. I’m still coming.” 

after 2 hours, many shots, and 3 extra bodies, we were all ready to go. The Uber to the club was fairly quick, Lucy and Misa were arguing over something stupid, Keira and Ona laughing at them and Alba holding my hand. The club was loud and full when we got there. Everyone holding hands to make it to the booth where the rest of the team were sitting. 

“Wow you finally showed up!” Mapi yelled, getting everyone’s attention. Alba came back shortly after with Misa, both carrying trays of shots. 

after lots of drinks, most of us were drunk. Half the group staying in the booth and half of us on the dance floor. Dancing in the middle of Alba and Misa, grinding on both in a purely platonic way, I felt eyes burning into my skull. Manoeuvring to see who it was, was quite the challenge, but it did. Confusion struck me. Anger, frustration, jealousy, rippled her face. With a huff, she got up and walked away. 

Why was Alexia so mad at me? What did I do? 

[tavolgisvist]

'Just call him on the phone'

Q: Aside from the millions you’ve been offered for a reunion concert, how did you feel about producer Lorne Michaels’s generous offer of thirty-two hundred dollars for appearing together on Saturday Night Live a few years ago?* A: Oh, yeah, Paul and I were together watching that show. He was visiting us at our place in the Dakota. We were watching it and almost went down to the studio, just as a gag. We nearly got into a cab, but we were actually too tired. Q: How did you and Paul happen to be watching TV together? A: That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. I would let him in, but finally I said to him**, “Please call before you come over. It’s not 1956, and turning up at the door isn’t the same anymore. You know, just give me a ring.” He was upset by that, but I didn’t mean it badly. I just meant that I was taking care of a baby all day, and some guy turns up at the door … But anyway, back on that night he and Linda walked in and he and I were just sitting there watching the show, and we went, Ha-ha, wouldn’t it be funny if we went down, but we didn’t. Q: Is that the last time you’ve seen Paul? A: Yes, but I didn’t mean it like that.

<...> Q: You say you haven’t really listened to Paul’s work and haven’t really talked to him since that night in your apartment— A: Really talked to him, no, that’s the operative word. I haven’t really talked to him in ten years. Because I haven’t spent time with him. I’ve been doing other things and so has he. You know, he’s got twenty five kids and about twenty million records out — how can he spend time talking? He’s always working.

(John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying, David Sheff)

*It was in 25 April 1976 **it was in 26 April 1976

Well, when I, when I was Just a little baby boy, Every night, every night I would call, Because your number, you know, Brought me such sweet joy. I've called your name, John, Every night since then But I ain't never, no, no, never Heard you calling me, My sweet, sweet babe, So, you know, you better call me back again, I call your operator but I still can't get through to you, Call me back again

(Call Me Back Again, presumably, 10 June 1976, Seattle)

Tell me, is she everything i see Or is she really not the one for me? We know, and though some may disagree But do they know the way we want to be? <…> Building something One thing made to last And holding something Special from the past And do I still believe in stories we've been told***? Are all the things she brings me worth their weight in gold? Oh yeah, (oh yeah) pure gold

(Pure Gold, Paul for Ringo, 1976)

***I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another.The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.'

(Paul McCartney to The Big Issue, Feb. 2012)

After you've gone And left me crying After you've gone Ain't no deny You'll feel blue You'll feel sad You'll miss the dearest pal that you ever had

There'll come a time And don't you forget it There'll come a time When you'll regret it****

Someday when you grow lonely Your heart will break like mine You want me only After you've gone After you've gone away

(After You've Gone, 1977, Paul's version - 'just for fun' as he said - of a 1918 popular song written by Turner Layton and Henry Creamer, and it's Frank Sinatra's (and Sophie Tucker!) version.

****the line 'Don't you forget it/When you'll regret it' reminds another old (not as old like After You've Gone but old) song -  I Love You And Don't You Forget It by Perry Como. The song, what our lads were singing in their early years so playfully:

Klas Burling: Tell us something about how you find a song… how you get the idea about a song, to write it down. John: Well, sometimes it's the words first, and then the music after. Klas Burling: Very often you've got a title, you know… Me and you, and everything like that? Paul: Yeah. We try to do that, to make it personal so it's… so we really mean it. When we sing a thing about 'I love you,' it's easier. John: (singing) 'And don't you forget it!' John & Paul: (singing together, jokingly) 'I love you and don't you forget it!' Paul: Well, you see, it's easier than singing something about the cat that lives on the hill, man. (laughter) Paul: It's a lot easier just to sing about what you feel yourself.

(August 23 1963, interview with Klas Burling)

Was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday I used to hold you in my arms And now a baby, and a another on the way [Indescernable] in a farm Now must we be alone? If it don’t feel right, don’t do it If it don’t look right, look right through it If it don’t feel right, don’t do it Just call him on the phone

(John Lennon, Real Life, Feb 1977)

We'd had a bread strike over here***** and I rang him and I was saying, What are you doing? He says. I'm baking some bread.' 'Oh! Me too.' Imagine, with the stereotypes, John and Paul talking about baking bread.

(Paul McCartney, May 2001, interview for Mojo magazine)

*****a bread strike in England was in Nov 1978

Q: Do you regret that your life has become so public? A: I realized that a good fifteen years ago. I remember actually thinking when I went on holiday somewhere, ‘God I’d really better start thinking now about keeping a few countries aside where we don’t sell records. I won’t be able to go anywhere without being recognized.’ But now I think, ‘Really, I’ve reached the point of no return. There’s no going back.’ Even if I didn’t want to sing anymore, I’d just be like Greta Garbo or Brigitte Bardot. They both retired but you’d never know it. John said this to me a year before he died. He said, ‘Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true.’ That’s the way I look at it. I wished for all this and I got it. To regret it would mean I’d have to sit here and live with negative thoughts about it. I know that would only sink me. Even if I had feelings of regret my personality would not really let them out. ‘Look mate, you don’t regret it. Look on the other side,’ that’s me. Not to sink. I always used to do that instinctively, and not allow too many negative thoughts to surface.

(Paul McCartney, April/May 1982, interview for Music Express)

The couple of years after the Beatles broke up it was very touchy because I think we suspected each other of business manoeuvres. So anyone would ring up, it would be like, “Why is he ringing?” And when you put up the defensive like that it’s very difficult to say, “I’m not! Honest!” You just don’t know where to put yourself. So we had a lot of those ups and downs for quite a few years. But the favourite thing was that if ever we talked not business – and what we ended doing, actually, was make a rule not to talk business on the phone – and on those occasions, we had really good vibes, man. And it was great; we just talked kids, we talked family, we talked cats, we talked life, rather than, “oh, what songs are doing with x business affair?” And one of the great things for me, one of the consolation prizes after John was killed, the only thing– you know, you find yourself holding on to little bits of wreckage to keep yourself afloat. And with me it was the fact that our last phonecall was really one of the best we ever had together; it was really warm, we were really friends again.

(Paul McCartney, 1984, interview for CBS Morning News)

Q: Do you remember your last conversation with John? A: Yes. That is a nice thing, a consoling factor for me, because I do feel it was sad that we never actually sat down and straightened our differences out. But fortunately for me, the last phone conversation I ever had with him was really great, and we didn’t have any kind of blowup. It could have easily been one of the other phone calls, when we blew up at each other and slammed the phone down. Q: Do you remember what you talked about? A: It was just a very happy conversation about his family, my family. Enjoying his life very much; Sean was a very big part of it. And thining about getting on with his career. I remember he said, “Oh, God, I’m like Aunt Mimi, padding round here in me dressing gown”– robe, as he called it, ’cause he was picking up the American vernacular –“feeding the cats in me robe and cooking and putting a cup of tea on. This housewife wants a career!” It was that time for him. He was about to launch Double Fantasy.******

(Paul McCartney, Dec 1984, interview for Playboy)

******Double Fantasy released 17 November 1980

I was lucky. The last few wee... months that he was alive, we’d managed to get our relationship back on track. And we were talking and having real good conversations. Real nice and friendly.

(Paul McCartney about This One, interview with Bernard Goldberg for the TV series 48 Hours, 1989)