#Day 4: Ponchos

[weevil-wallflower]

Lost Stolen & Found

Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: Cal finds something valuable that he thought he'd lost years ago.

Warnings/Tags: No warnings, SFW, fluff and humour, no use of Y/N, no pronouns used, during Jedi: Survivor, minor spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.

A.N.: My fourth entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 4 prompt 'Ponchos'. I know this is from one of the previous days and while I would love to tackle the current day's prompts, I don't have any ideas for them yet. I don't want to force myself to write just for the sake of writing uwu

Also, When I showed one of my friends a picture of Cal in the pink poncho, he said that the pink is a bit clashy with Cal's hair, and that is what lead to this story ;3 Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~520

Pyloon’s Saloon was bustling with its usual crowd when You walked in, looking around for your beloved redhead. When You couldn’t find him, You walked over to the kitchen, spotting Greez behind the counter as he cooked something that smelled quite delicious.

The Latero glanced up as You approached, giving You a nod. “You seen Cal yet?” He asked while stirring a pot.

“I’m on my way to see him, actually. Why?” You asked, your voice filled with confusion.

Greez snorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, you’re in for a surprise,” he chuckled, sounding quite cryptic as he returned to his cooking.

Shrugging, You continued your trek downstairs towards your quarters. As the doors slid open, You stopped in your tracks, unable to suppress a laugh. There stood Cal, checking himself out in the mirror, wearing something so bright and pink that it clashed horribly with his red hair. BD-1 stood besides him, shaking his little head in playful disapproval.

“Cal… what are you wearing?” You exclaimed, walking up to him.

The redhead turned to You, his face full of excitement. “My love, you won’t believe it! I defeated Oggdo Bogdo and found my old poncho in his lair!” He spread his arms wide, making the dirty pink poncho flare out dramatically.

You lifted an eyebrow, surprise and a bit of worry crossing your face as You scolded him. “You went after Oggdo Bogdo? Cal, you always go out looking for trouble!”

He stepped closer, attempting to wrap You in a hug, but You backed away, your nose scrunching up. “Eww! Don’t touch me with that! Who knows how long that frog had been sitting on this poncho!”

Cal chuckled, looking down at the poncho. “Alright, fair point. But isn’t it great? I missed this old thing!”

“It’s… something,” You said diplomatically. “But the bright pink is a little clashy with your red hair.”

BD-1 emitted a series of beeps and nodded his head, clearly agreeing with You.

Cal grinned, his emerald orbs sparkling with amusement. “You too, Beedee? But hey, at least I can say I’m making bold fashion statements now!”

Later that evening, You decided to wash the poncho, knowing how important it was to Cal and that now he had it back, he would most likely want to wear it often. After a thorough wash, You decided to try on the poncho yourself. It was surprisingly comfortable, and You ended up wearing it to bed. At night, as You were settling in, Cal entered the quarters and did a double take.

“Wait a minute, is that my poncho?” He asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Before You could respond, the Jedi slipped under the covers and managed to squeeze himself inside the poncho alongside You, trapping You against his muscular chest.

“Cal!” You protested, giggling as you squirmed in your warm prison. Despite the poncho fitting you both very tightly, there was something cozy about it.

“See? It’s perfect for cuddling,” he said, his voice warm and happy. You snuggled closer, feeling safe and loved as You agreed that it indeed was good for cuddling.

[disposal-blueeee]

( stereotypical mexican music starts playing

[katiekatdragon27]

Continuation of this concept lol

I love evil women and the kids the public sents out to stop her (they're both inexperienced and probably going to die)

Progress and some lore below cut:

OKAY SO SOME VERY NOTICABLE CHANGES ARE HERE. Mostly their designs and names. Yes, these two are Goth Teensy and Bad Rayman. Yes, their names are changed and yes, I modified their designs a lot. Goth is like 18 and Shadi mentally 18, physically 12, but like 28 years in actuality.

SO!! These two are the heroes the Glade is depending on. Reluctantly, but whatever, it's better than nothing.

Goth Teensy's lore is pretty much the same as Fate of the Moons tbh (he was actually called "Plum" before meeting Rayman in that). Being dropped off at the Livid Dead, being adopted by Jano and Voodoo Mama, being coached by Romeo, befriending Shadi etc. However, that canon and this canon diverge here.

Plum was never sent to the Glade to be purified of his nightmare-ness and then recruited into Rayman's band of heroes. Instead, he remained in the Livid Dead and was actually studying to be a doctor (akin to Romeo). However, when all the shit hit the fan via Wizard's violent murder campaign, he was asked by Voodoo Mama specifically to aid in defeating Wizard. However, to try and reverse Plum's power nerfing from his initial transformation, they had to purify him. VM did her best to reverse it, but since the original caster botched the nightmare spell so bad, he was only partly healed. This is very prevalent when he uses his magic, since it is nightmare magic. It turns him back to his purple state before relaxing and changing into his calico-spotted state. He is never fully blue.

As for his personality, he is very much nervous and more studious than his normal self. He loves everything to do with lums and how they work, especially blue lums. He's also much more passive and avoidant of conflict. He's also usually the voice or reason between him and Shadi.

Shadi (who is Bad Rayman) is also in a similar situation. Her lore stays consistent with Fate of the Moons, with her being left for dead in the Livid Dead, befriending Goth and to extent his whole found family, learning to be independent etc. but her divergence is a little more personal for her.

When it comes to the attention of the Nymphs that Wizard is not above killing people for lums, they search the Glade for a viable Rayman replacement, but to no avail. The closest they got was Raymesis, but he refused so he couldn't be used.

With no faces in the Glade, they decide to go under and consult VM about any thingamajigs she knows of. She reluctantly brings up Shadi (mind you she views both her and Plum like her kids and doesn't want them put in danger) but refuses to let her fight until Shadi shows genuine interest in avenging Jano. After being known as "Bad Rayman" then a nobody for 12 years, she views this as a chance to show that she's just as good as the guy she's based on and can haul just as much if not more. Shadi then convinces Plum to join her endeavor, and after his "purification", they set off to kick ass.

They're so whimsical and joyous it would be a shame if something terrible happened to them in the future. I'm sure it'll be fiiiiine, nothing to worry about :)

Have a lovely day homies!

[luvnette]

-𝐶𝑜𝑤𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙!𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑘𝑎 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠-

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Cowgirl!Sevika x Fem!Reader

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡/𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: SFW, men and minors DNI, fluff, Sevika has both arms, she is younger (like 20 idk) and a little immature in the beginning, r! and Sevika get married, r! gets pregnant by her (don’t know how and it doesn’t matter), just happy western lesbianism

𝐴/𝑛: This is a little based on the game Rdr2, so don’t be surprised if there are parallels between Sevi and the characters. It also turned out kinda story-ish, hope u don’t mind. Anyway, have fun!<3

Cowgirl!Sevika was an outlaw in a small gang of 4 (Her, Silco, Vander and Felicia) when she met you, killing, robbing and hunting for the food on her plate. She loves to tell you stories about how she nearly got caught a few times or what kind of people crossed her path. She’ll also show off her scars from brawls and fights.

Cowgirl!Sevika is pretty good at drawing, she has a journal with sketches of animals, flowers or random objects in them- and you, of course.

Cowgirl!Sevika will pick the prettiest flowers for you while she’s out, giving them to you when she comes back. “Here, these reminded me of you, sweetie”

Cowgirl!Sevika couldn’t afford fancy dates back then, but she still managed to make your time with her quite enjoyable. She took you out on rides, showing you her favorite places, drawing you or just talking about all kinds of stuff. Sometimes you two even camped together, her teaching you some ‘cool survival skills’ (they’re either basic outdoor 1x1 or really dangerous)

Cowgirl!Sevika loves Black Jack. She likes it even more than poker and could play for hours while you’re perched on her lap, watching her win every single round

Cowgirl!Sevika is a pretty big woman, that’s why she prefers to ride draft horses like Shires and Clydesdales. She will gladly show you how horse riding works, if you don’t know that already.

Cowgirl!Sevika will flirt with you like she sees you for the first time when she’s drunk, super excited and giddy- and when you remind her that you’re already dating, she gets all flustered and happy. “Sucha’ pretty girl like you..*hick*..need a ride by any chance?” she asks, swinging her arm around you. “Sevi, you’ve been my ride for the last couple months” you chuckle, giving her a small peck on the cheek. “Oh..right..*hick*..well, lucky me then!” she blushes, peppering your face with kisses

Cowgirl!Sevika is a huge fan of PDA. She’ll show everyone how deeply you two are in love, kissing and touching you whenever someone is giving you a dumb look. If you’re not into it though, she’ll simply give you all her attention later (in bed *wink*)

Cowgirl!Sevika gives the greatest bear hugs. No matter if it’s a goodbye, you feeling sad or her being touch starved, her embrace is strong, warm and caring. She also likes to have you really close while sleeping

Cowgirl!Sevika will give you her hat when it’s too sunny or her poncho when you’re cold.

Cowgirl!Sevika loves to go on sunset rides, you sitting in front of her in the saddle, your back pressed against her chest. Sometimes, she hitches her horse onto a tree, helping you down to cuddle up in the grass and enjoy the view together. She’d also propose to you this way after a few years, you two passionately making out in the greenery until she suddenly stops to look you in the eyes. “Wanna’ get married?” she whispers, giving you the sweetest smile. At first you’re staring at her surprised, but then you pull her in for a long kiss, murmuring a happy “yes..” against her lips.

Cowgirl!Sevika will save up money after you’re married to buy a small farm for the two of you. She’ll build a house and a barn with the help of the other gang members, plant crops, purchase some cattle and earn money by selling farm goods from now on.

Since then, cowgirl!Sevika can decide her own work-hours, making sure she spends most of the day with you. And sometimes, when you two got nothing to do, you’ll sit down on the porch together, drinking tea and enjoying your peaceful little life.

Cowgirl!Sevika truly loves entering the house to the smell of cooked or baked food. She’ll join you in the kitchen, tenderly holding you from behind, kissing your neck. “Need help darling?” she’ll ask. “You can set the table, my love” you answer, kissing her soft lips. She always trys to help you with literally anything.

Cowgirl!Sevika’s favourite snack becomes strawberries and cream, especially when you make it for her. She also really loves apple pie though.

Cowgirl!Sevika absolutely adores soft mornings, the warm sun shining into your shared bedroom, you dressed in your nightgown, dozing on top of her chest. She’ll run her fingers through your hair and simply listen to your soft breathing.

Cowgirl!Sevika starts to dream of you being pregnant after some time on the farm. She thinks about it more and more often, getting a huge baby fever. “Sweetheart? can I ask you something?” she says, waking you up in the middle of the night. “Hmm?” you hum half asleep, slowly opening your eyes. “What if we.. you know.. start a family?” she asks, mumbling the last part. “Well.. I actually thought about that too..” you whisper, giving her a slightly concerned look. “No matter what you want, I’ll be here loving you” she smiles at you and gives you a kiss on your forehead, before you two get back to sleep.

And after around 10 months of cowgirl!Sevika being constantly around you and your growing belly, you two become mommy and mama to your first daughter. She couldn’t ask for more when she sees you holding her baby, her eyes always getting a little wet.

Cowgirl!Sevika’s life couldn’t be more perfect with you in it, her beautiful and lovely wife<3

[knowinglewis]

Fading Lines

Part one/Part Two/Part Three/Part Four/Part Five/Final Part

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: The lines between friendship and something more start to blur between you and Lewis when he invites you to his first race weekend with Ferrari.

Word Count: 8,035

Warnings: Jealousy, anxiety, overthinking, angst, and some FLUFF. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Firstly thank you all SO much for the love on part one! We're back with part two and those lines are starting to blur EVEN MORE! It's looking like this will be a 4 part series, because this would easily be a 30k words or more fic if it was just the one part! Again, thank you for reading and really hope you enjoy it, please let me know your thoughts!

Race day came fast, sunlight flowing through edges of the hotel curtains far too early for your liking. Isabella was already bouncing around the room in her Ferrari merch, her red crop top, slick ponytail, and a pair of sunglasses that cost more than your rent.

"Are you ready to go?" she grinned, tossing you a pair of passes with your name printed in glossy bold letters. "We're going full VIP again, babe."

You caught the pass mid-air and pulled it over your head. The laminate captured the light like a trophy, shiny and in perfect condition, but it’s not what set your pulse racing. You felt your stomach flip with nerves and excitement, as well as something else you didn’t feel like you could name yet.

You told yourself it was the energy of the upcoming race, the roar of the engines, the crowds surrounding the track, but that wasn’t the full truth. The full truth was draped over your arm: a black Louis Vuitton jacket that still smelled faintly like a woody, expensive cologne.

Lewis hadn’t said anything when he placed it over your shoulders, just a look that said don’t argue. You were shivering and he had noticed.

You told yourself you’d give it back today. That was the plan. Until you stepped outside the car and were met with a cool breeze. Wasn’t Australia meant to be warm this time of year? The grey clouds coating the sky told you otherwise, and so you slid your arms into the jacket. It felt natural, familiar. A little like a secret. Though, you knew you had to return it soon.

By the time you had arrived at the paddock, the rumble of engines was already alive. The scent of rubber and fuel clung to the humid air, mingling with the heat from the track. Cameras flashed from every angle, with fans scrambling to get to their seats to see the drivers, ponchos and umbrellas in hand. The energy was electric all around as you made your way to the Ferrari suite. 

The suite buzzed with excitement, the thrum of conversation and glasses clinking over the broadcast playing on several sleek monitors. You were once again surrounded by groups of wealthy people and PR reps who chatted among themselves as the race start approached.

Isabella tugged you through the crowd with ease, throwing smiles at anyone who looked your way. She was in her element, always charming, relaxed, already waving at someone you half-recognised from a fashion campaign you’d come across. You smiled along and pulled the jacket tighter around you, the soft luxury of the fabric was a strange comfort against the backdrop of noise and movement. 

“Good afternoon ladies,” a warm voice greeted the two of you from your left.

You turned to see Anthony Hamilton stepping toward you, dressed in a crisp black suit with a relaxed air that felt earned. His smile reached his brown eyes as he extended a hand toward you both. 

“Welcome back,” he said kindly, then looked at you with a small nod. “Lewis was looking for you earlier, but you just missed him.”

You felt your heart skip once again as it had many times that weekend, taking your breath away for a moment. You opened your mouth to respond as you quickly gathered your thoughts, but he was waved over by a Ferrari team member before you could speak.

“I’ll see you ladies soon,” he said before ducking towards the exit. 

Then he was gone, quickly swallowed by a wave of team members and executives slipping past the security cordon.

You stood still for a beat, letting the noise settle around you. He was looking for you? You wondered to yourself for a moment if maybe he just wanted his jacket back, or if he wanted to check in after last night. It wasn’t until Isabella elbowed you gently with a teasing grin that you exhaled. 

“Your man was looking for you, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows, all too aware of how you felt about Lewis and the growing connection between you.

You returned her cheeky look with a roll of your eyes, shaking your head as she began preparing her camera and phone. The two of you made your way across the suite before heading outside again, while Isabella panned her camera across the paddock.

Near the sheltered tables outside stood Raye, along with Miles, Spinz, and Lewis’ stepmother, Linda. Raye waved you over once you’d gotten closer, clutching her red handbag below her red and white outfit.

“Hello, darling!” She greeted along with the rest of the crew, who gave you a mix of small waves and nods. 

You greeted the group in return, taking a seat at the table along with the rest. You slipped into the chair beside Raye, shaking the drizzle of rain off your sleeves and tucking your feet beneath the table.

“How are you feeling? Any better?” Raye asked with genuine concern, leaning towards you with a gentle steadiness.

“Yeah, much better today, thank you,” you replied, offering a small smile despite the brief embarrassment that dusted across your cheeks. “I feel bad for leaving early like that though.”

“No, no. Don’t feel bad at all,” she said quickly, brushing it off with a flick of her hand. “The day was pretty intense, so I don’t blame you. Plus…” Her eyes dipped briefly to the jacket wrapped snugly around your shoulders before giving you a wink, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “You’re clearly being taken care of.”

Your mouth opened for a second, but nothing came out. Heat spread across your cheeks, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the nearby patio heaters or the direct hit of her teasing tone, as you glanced down instinctively at the sleek black fabric. The designer jacket that wasn’t yours but still felt oddly like it belonged on you.

“He let me borrow it last night,” you explained casually, suddenly self-conscious as you thumbed the hem at the bottom corner of the jacket on your lap. “I was going to return it.”

Raye hummed in amusement and approval. “Well, it looks great on you.”

You thanked her shyly, pursing your lips, unable to hold back the smile that threatened to tug at your mouth. 

The conversation drifted then to talk of the weather, of who was doing press rounds early, and how chaotic the rain had made logistics. Linda offered a few gracious insights, and Spinz shared a behind-the-scenes story that made the whole table laugh. You laughed where appropriate, nodded along, but your mind kept floating, not heavy like yesterday, just…lighter.

The jealousy that had gripped you before, clawing under your ribs like something wild, had softened into something quieter. You weren’t sure if it had faded completely or if you’d just gotten better at tucking it away. Or maybe it was also Lewis’ jacket still draped over your shoulders. It gave you a strange sort of confidence, like a secret you were wearing in plain sight.

Either way, the knot in your chest had loosened, replaced with a calmer lightness and the anticipation of seeing him.

Another moment passed before you noticed the heads of all at the table turned to the suite, where you saw Lewis jog past the outdoor terrace toward the suite entrance, raincoat flaring slightly with each step. 

His race boots thudded against the stone in a familiar rhythm as he escaped the light drizzle of rain, a focused, excited look on his face.

Then, just before disappearing inside, he glanced over his shoulder toward your table.

His hand lifted in a brief wave, casual but warm. His gaze skimmed across the group and you locked eyes for a fleeting second. 

It wasn’t much, not definitive, but there was something in the way his eyes hesitated before he ducked into the suite, like a skipped heartbeat. 

“Must’ve come from the press tent,” Miles added, glancing at the time on his phone. “It’s chaos over there.”

You tried to pull your focus back to the conversation, even as your thoughts lingered elsewhere. That was until Isabella checked her own phone.

“Time to go do our thing.” She nodded towards the paddock. “Let’s make ourselves useful before they lock down the grid.”

The paddock pulsed with energy, crew members rushing past with headsets and clipboards, journalists angling for last-minute quotes, and fans pressed against barricades for one final glimpse. Isabella weaved through the chaos like she’d done it a hundred times, camera strapped over one shoulder, phone in hand.

“Can you grab the monopod from my bag?” Isabella asked without missing a step.

You complied, reaching into the side pocket of her tote and handing it over smoothly as you both moved between the garages. When she paused to frame a quick shot of a team huddle, you instinctively stepped behind her, shielding her from a stray crew member passing too close.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly, glancing over her shoulder with a grateful grin. “You’re the best.”

She captured clips of Charles chatting with a couple of Ferrari crew members, as well as Lando and Oscar preparing to get into their cars. 

Pausing near the corridor of the Ferrari garage, Isabella typed out a caption for her story. You were adjusting your lanyard when you caught sight of him.

Lewis stood alone further down the corridor, slipping his airpods back into their case. He always had them in as he prepared for the race. A soft thrum of nerves rippled through you and you debated whether you wanted to risk disturbing this moment of quiet for him. 

Before you could move backwards to stay out of his way, his eyes spotted you and a smile immediately graced his handsome face. He stepped forward and you moved towards him as well, meeting him halfway along the empty corridor.

“Hey.” He reached out for a light hug, his calm aura was a balm to your nerves. “Are you feeling better?”

You nodded, smoothing your hand over his muscled back as his hand rested at your shoulder blade. “Yeah. Much better, thank you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright.” Lewis let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, as he mirrored your nod in return. “I’m hoping the rain throws things in our favour, starting eighth isn’t exactly where I wanted to be.”

“You’ve got this.” You assured him, dropping your hand reluctantly back to your side and nudging your toe gently against the ground. 

His gaze held yours for a breath longer, an unreadable look in his eyes, like he was on the verge of saying more. The air between you shifted, thick with a quiet, yet gentle tension. “Thank you,” he said finally, voice low. “It means a lot to have you here.”

You felt the warmth of his words settling somewhere beneath your ribs, and weren’t sure what to do with it yet, or how to respond. So you offered him a small, grateful smile, unsure if it said too much or not enough.

Then you remembered. Your fingers moved to the zip at your collarbone, breaking the tension. “Oh, your jacket,” you noted, tugging lightly at the edge of the jacket. “Sorry, I meant to give it back. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lewis said gently, lifting his hand up towards yours. “Keep it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, pausing your removal at his unexpected response. “Are you sure?”

“It looks good on you,” he shrugged, like it’s just a fact. Not flirty, not calculated. Just the truth. “I want you to have it.”

You just looked at him, really looked, unsure how to respond. Gratitude was written behind your eyes, for his generosity, for the calm steadiness of his voice, for the comfort of the jacket still clinging to your frame.

However, before you could find the right words, a sudden swell of movement nearby drew both your attention. The flurry of team personnel, mechanics, and press marked the countdown to the race starting.

“Looks like it’s time,” you remarked, glancing toward the mounting chaos on either end of the corridor.

Lewis nodded, following your observation of the garage corridor. It was as though neither of you wanted to leave your bubble in that hallway, where only the two of you existed, but you knew it would soon be flooded with people again.

You hesitated for a split second, then found his warm brown eyes that focused on yours intently. “Good luck, Lewis” you murmured, your voice softer and assuring. “You’ve got this.”

The look he gave you then was soft, his defined lips curving with gratitude, like the words had meant more than you realised. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Your heart swelled with admiration, not just for his talent or how he carried himself, but for the way he could be so utterly sincere in the middle of an insane schedule. For a moment, the noise of the paddock blurred into the background, and all you could feel was the warmth of his gaze and the unguarded way he looked at you.

There was a tenderness in it that caught you off guard. Your pulse fluttered, not from nerves this time, but from the slow, dawning realisation that you really were falling under his spell. Not because he was Lewis Hamilton, the name stitched on many caps and Ferrari shirts around you, or the handsome face plastered across billboards, but because in moments like this, he was just him. Charming without trying, genuine, kind, and more disarming than you were ready for. It was nearly impossible not to fall for him.

“I’ll see you after.” He gave you a final nod, before he turned and disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the chaos of race day. 

You stood for a moment longer, breathing in and out carefully, then headed off to find Isabella, your mind still reeling like you'd just walked out of a dream.

You found Isabella not long after, or rather, she had found you, dragging you by the wrist to the barrier in the Ferrari garage with a giddy, breathless energy that barely contained itself.

The sound of the engines roaring to life overpowered the focused engineers who spoke over their over headsets as screens flickered with timing data. The buzz in the air was palpable. Light rain still misted lightly over the track, making the asphalt glisten, making every moment feel sharpened at the edges.

You both held your own red headsets and shuffled around the barrier while the others flooded in, Raye and Miles taking an empty spot next to you along with Spinz. 

“Okay,” Isabella breathed out, eyes wide as she leaned toward you, her camera slung precariously over one shoulder, “I know I said I came here for content, but I might be in love with a guy from the pit crew, and I think I’ve taken the internet with me.”

“Sorry, what?” You couldn’t help but laugh, tugging your new jacket tighter around your body when a breeze blew into the garage.

“Look at him.�� She brought her phone screen into view, replaying the video she had posted.

You watched the man in question, tall, broad-shouldered, in his Ferrari shirt and gloved fingers which directed the team as they moved the car out. His dark hair was slightly windswept in the cool weather, sleeves rolled just enough to show off very defined forearms.

“Ooh, not bad.” You shared an impressed look with raised brows. 

“Right? Look at those arms,” she said like it was obvious, before opening the comments and scrolling. “And apparently the internet agrees.”

You laughed again, reading some of the thirsty messages under the video. An air of adrenaline filled the room soon after as the time ticked down and the race began. You chatted briefly with Miles and Raye, making casual commentary on the grid positions, and jokingly offering a few predictions that didn’t pan out.

The wet conditions made the race even more thrilling and risky, with a few cars slipping and crashing into the barriers. For a couple of glorious laps, Lewis had made it up to P2, battling in the wet, looking fast and aggressive. Just the conditions he’d been hoping for to flip the race into his favour.

Hope sparked in your chest, heart racing as you watched his car eat up the track. You clutched Isabella’s hand tightly, both your eyes trained on the screens above. That was, until the McLarens quickly clawed their way back, and a pit stop pushed him down again. 

You crossed your fingers, digging into your sleeves, wishing there was something you could do. Wishing you could send that fierce surge of belief you’d seen in him earlier right back through the screen, but it was clear that it was slipping away as you watched him struggle with the tyres and grip.

The final result: tenth.

Not what he’d wanted. Not what he’d deserved.

You didn’t see him right away afterward, he wasn’t among the crowd dispersing near the garage or standing with the team huddled in their post-race debrief. You scanned the blur of red uniforms, more out of habit than anything else, eyes drifting over the scene without really meaning to, waiting for a familiar stride, the flash of perfectly sectioned braids, anything that might settle the restlessness in your chest.

Then, Lewis passed through the garage, flanked by staff leading him toward the media area, helmet in hand and fireproofs tied around his waist. His braids were slightly damp, the markings of his helmet across his cheek, and jaw tight with exhaustion. Though the staff spoke low in his ear, clipboard in hand, he kept his calm demeanor, nodding along. 

His eyes swept over the garage, and for the briefest second, they met yours.

You didn’t lift your hand, only offered a small smile, which he returned, but he didn’t break stride. He was gone within a short few seconds, already halfway into the press gauntlet.

You and Isabella lingered for a while after. She busied herself smugly rewatching her pit crew crush’s video and editing the next load of content she planned to post. 

The energy in the space was changing, the high-pitched urgency of race day slowly winding down into a quiet pack up. Mechanics started rolling equipment back into storage, wiping down tools, checking over the cars. Engineers discussed data at a more subdued pace, the adrenaline fading into fatigue.

You waited just a little longer, but Lewis didn’t reappear. No glimpse, no stolen glance. He was somewhere inside, swallowed by debriefs, press duties, and the media machine that didn’t stop, even on bad days.

The garage and suites began to empty around you, the crowd thinning unti only essential personnel remained. A few stragglers from hospitality passed through, but it was clear things were wrapping up. 

Then, movement at the far end of the corridor caught your eye. Lewis stood in his Ferrari shirt and loose pants, his cap covering the expression on his face. Beside him Raye stood close, one hand gesturing mid-story, the other brushing lightly against his arm. She laughed at something he said, to which he smiled softly, and it was the first time you’d seen his shoulders relax since before the race.

You didn’t move, your feet glued to the ground. You just watched as they lingered, speaking in low voices like there was no rush to be anywhere else. Then, they turned together, walking down the corridor and out of sight.

A sharp pinch tightened in your chest before you could stop it. Of course he was busy. Of course he had people to see, things to do. This was his world, after all. It was loud, fast, and always full of people who wanted his time. Still, the unwelcome sting of being forgotten, left behind, settled in anyway.

Your mind swirled with a million thoughts, mainly confusion, at the situation. Earlier, Raye had winked at you when she saw the jacket slung around your shoulders, teasing knowingly like she was in on a secret. Like she knew something, but now she was the one walking away with him. You didn’t want to admit it, but. the jacket began to feel heavier, like the weight of disappointment hanging from your body.

Maybe you had just misread everything. Again.

“Alright, I’m hungry.” Isabella’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as took her gear apart, tucking them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded slowly, grabbing your own bag and checking your phone for the time, noticing the way your stomach grumbled.

The two of you made your way out of the paddock, leaving behind the hum of machinery and the distant sound of equipment being packed away into containers for shipping, echoing through the corridors. No words. No messages. Just the quiet ache of being forgotten, along with not being able to check on Lewis after a difficult race still trailing behind you in the cool evening air. He’d said he’d see you after, but you knew that in this life, sometimes even the best intentions got swept up in the chaos.

The hotel room glowed in a soft amber light, you sat on the floor with your suitcase open, half-packed with folded clothes and your tangled chargers. Isabella lounged across the bed in an old hoodie and bike shorts, one leg bent, and the other lazily kicking at the air as she swiped through her camera roll.

“I’m depressed,” she announced suddenly with a dramatic sigh. “We haven’t even left yet and I’m already dreading going back to work.”

“Yeah, back to reality, I guess,” you muttered with a small sigh of your own, folding the pair of socks you’d chucked out of your bag while getting ready that morning. “I’m really not looking forward to it.”

“Tell me about it. I feel like we barely got to see much of Melbourne, I was really hoping to go to a beach or two,” Isabella groaned, flopping onto her front.

You rose to your feet, walking across to the bed to pack away your hair tools. Your phone had been sitting on your bedside table charging away, when the vibration caught your attention.

“Maybe we should just call in sick and spend a couple of extra days here,” Isabella mused, watching you pick up your phone.

“Should we?” You considered her idea, shooting her a mischievous look before your eyes fell onto the notification on your screen.

It was Lewis.

‘Hey, have you had dinner yet?’

It was such a simple question, but it still caught you off guard. Not did you eat, but have you had dinner yet, a present tense. Like maybe he’d meant to join you. Maybe he had planned to, or at least thought about it, before everything got swept up in the race.

You bit your lip, warmth blooming across your cheeks as you typed slowly:

‘Yeah I had some with Issy earlier. How about you?’

It only took a moment for the reply to come through, your phone buzzing in your hands.

‘Keen for dessert?’

The corner of your mouth lifted involuntarily as you read his reply. A part of you still felt the sting from earlier, from that moment in the corridor. And yet here he was. Reaching out. Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, the flutter in your stomach growing. Would it just be the two of you? Would the whole group be there? Surely he would tell you, or ask you to bring Isabella too if it was a group thing.

From the bed, Isabella didn’t miss a thing, catching the smile on your lips and the flush of your cheeks as the cogs turned in your mind. 

“Lewis?” She grinned, sitting up to look nosily over your shoulder. “What’d he say?”

You turned your phone to show her the text, suddenly feeling shy as she read the messages. 

“Oh my- you have to go,” she gasped, clutching your hand and shoving your phone towards you in excitement. 

You paused for a second, not wanting to get ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t help the panic in your voice. “Do you think it’s like a group thing though? Maybe he’s already with the others, right? Probably with Raye…or…ugh I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been alone with him like that before.” 

“Okay firstly, if it was a group thing, he definitely would have mentioned it or put it in a group chat. He only texted you,” she reassured you, placing a hand on your forearm in support. “And second, why not just take a chance? You never know what will come from this!”

Isabella was the voice of reason you needed in that moment, your heart thudding louder as you glanced back at your phone. Maybe this would be the chance to clear things up properly. Your thumbs hung over the keyboard on the screen, your mind drawing a complete blank on your response. Would a simple ‘yes’ or ‘sure’ be too blunt? You didn’t want to come off too eager and put him off, but you didn’t want to make yourself sound uninterested either. 

“Here.” Isabella reached over, sensing your hesitation and quickly typed a message for you. “Just send this. It’s cute and flirty, but you’re keeping it subtle.”

Before you could overthink it, you pressed the send button, letting out a breath you’d been holding in.

‘I could be convinced’

The two of you waited eagerly as the three blinking dots popped up in a bubble beneath your message. He didn’t type for long before his reply flashed onto your screen with another buzz.

‘Good. Come down, I’ll get the car brought around.’

Immediately, you turned to face Isabella, who already had her jaw on the floor in elation. She squealed excitedly, bouncing off the bed and shaking your arm.

“Go, now!” She began to push you towards the door while you were still collecting yourself.

“Okay, okay!” You moved out of her grip, giving yourself a once over in the mirror and smoothing your hair down.

You hadn’t changed out of your outfit from the day since you’d gotten so caught up with packing as soon as you’d gotten home, but you still looked well put together for a last minute dessert run. With a quick touch up and spritz of your perfume, you slipped his sleek jacket back on along with your shoes.

You took a deep breath, turning to face Isabella one last time before you head out the door. 

“You look beautiful girl. Have fuuuun!” she sang, sending you a wink and wave as you disappeared into the hallway.

You made your way down towards the elevator, and jabbed the button for the lobby. The elevator doors slid closed with a soft sigh, and the quiet hum of descent only made the nerves in your stomach grow. It was a long ride down, giving you a momentary pause while you attempted to calm yourself.

It was just dessert. Just a friendly catch-up after a long day. However, your pulse didn’t seem to get the memo.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirrored wall, making some final adjustments to your look. Luckily, you had managed to avoid getting drenched in the rain that day, so your hair remained intact. The anticipation tugged at your chest, as the elevator slowed, and you swallowed once, steadying yourself before the doors slid open.

The hotel lobby was quiet this late, the marble floors echoing with the faint tap of your steps as you walked through towards the entrance. You spotted him instantly.

Lewis stood near the doors, adjusting one of his rings, looking freshly showered and re-energised. His head turned at the sound of your approach, and a warm smile spread across his face. The way his eyes sparkled at you made your knees weak.

“Hi,” he greeted, voice low and easy as he gave you a light hug.

“Hi,” you returned his smile, stepping back when he let you go.

A hotel staff member stepped up, holding out a pair of keys. Lewis took them with a quiet “cheers,” nodding in thanks before glancing back at you.

“This way,” he gestured towards the door, his smile widening just slightly.

You followed him through the front doors, that slid open for you, the air cool on your skin. A sleek black car waited just outside under the awning, headlights blinking as he unlocked it. The hotel staff moved to open the car doors for you, but he walked ahead and thanked them as the doors lifted open on their own.

Following his lead, you slid into your seat in the sleek car, which was already warm in the cold night. The doors closed with a thud and the engine purred to life. You pulled your seatbelt across your lap while Lewis rolled the car smoothly out into the night. You peered over at him as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other relaxed over the gear shift. He looked at ease for the first time all weekend, his shoulders loosened and his sharp jaw no longer clenched with tension.

“So,” he started, cutting a quick look in your direction with a small, knowing smirk, “How about some ice cream?”

You blinked. “Ice cream? It’s a bit cold tonight, isn’t it?”

“That’s the point,” he laughed, eyes back on the road. “Best time to eat it. Something about it just makes it taste even better.”

“That sounds…a little insane,” you said, deadpan, which made him laugh again. A genuine, light sound that pulled a grin out of you before you could stop it.

“Trust me. I know a really good place that’s not too far,” he assured you, tapping the address into the screen in the middle to start the navigation. 

“Alright, I trust you.” You rested back in your seat, letting your eyes trail out to the city around you.

The city lights of Melbourne flickered against the windows like soft confetti, and you could see crowds of people wandering the streets in groups still, enjoying their weekend before the reality of Monday set back in. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only settles between people who’ve already spent a lot of time in each other’s orbit. 

You noticed a soft track playing low on the radio, a velvety voice layered with subtle beats that pulsed through the speakers. The song was unfamiliar, but you read the track name, ‘Weightless’ sitting on the bottom of the screen. There was no name for an artist beneath it and no photo on the side to give you an indication of where this song had come from. 

Then, it finally clicked. You tilted your head slightly, catching a glimpse of Lewis in the dim lights, “Is this yours?”

His lips pursed, trying not to look smug as he gave a modest shrug. He was somehow even more handsome in the dim light when he wasn’t trying.

“Lewis, you sound amazing,” you breathed with an encouraging tone, unable to take your eyes off his cute expression.

“It’s just something I was messing around with,” he chuckled, shooting a quick look your way before returning to the road. “I haven’t really played it for anyone yet.”

You moved your gaze out the window quickly, heart stuttering just enough to make you feel like a teenager again with a crush at school. “I’m very lucky then.”

His reply came in the form of another quiet, breathy laugh, the kind that slipped out before he could stop it. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm with the beat, still playing softly through the car speakers. Your smile remained, as his melodic voice filled the silence between you.

A few minutes later, warm pale light spilled from a small gelateria tucked into the corner of a quiet street. He pulled into a spot out front and switched the engine off, the music fading into silence. You looked up at the shopfront, the name lit up in red across the sign, humming faintly behind the glass.

You exited the car at the same time as the doors lifted open, and walked side by side towards the shop. He moved ahead to hold the door open as a couple walked out, thanking him quickly, before the way cleared for you to walk through.

“After you.” Lewis motioned towards the inside of the shop, allowing you to enter and following behind you into the chilly space.

The inside of the shop smelled faintly of vanilla and citrus, warm and inviting even under the fluorescent lights. The tiles were a little worn, patterned in alternating a pastel green and white, just like something out of an old postcard. Along the back wall, a massive blackboard stretched almost the length of the room, plastered full of scoop flavours, including the classics of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, along with pistachio, burnt fig, and a few odd ones near the bottom like vanilla miso and olive oil lemon.

A curved glass freezer stood just below it, proudly displaying colourful rows of gelato in soft peaks, as if they’d been freshly smoothed only minutes ago. The creamy chocolate sat beside an earthy-looking brown swirl named Chestnut Espresso, and one Lewis pointed to immediately, labelled Strawberry Basil (vegan).

Behind the counter, an older man with thick glasses and a striped shirt glanced up as you both perused the selection. He gave a polite nod of welcome, his eyes lingering on Lewis for just a second too long. It wasn’t out of rudeness, but in the way when someone tries to figure out if they know you from somewhere. His brow furrowed slightly, the beginnings of recognition stirring, but he said nothing. 

Lewis leaned casually against the counter as you continued to scan the flavours, the cool air from the freezer brushing your skin as the man behind the counter lifted the lid to scoop the Strawberry Basil ice cream into a cup for him.

“Interesting choice,” you remarked, raising an eyebrow at the green swirl through the shiny pink cream.

“Hey, I’ve heard good things. Gotta try something new,” Lewis frowned playfully, before asking for a scoop of lemon sorbet as well.

“You’re braver than I am,” you laughed in return, settling for a safe option with raspberry white chocolate flavour and a scoop of mango sorbet.

The man behind the counter loaded your cups with ease and handed them over as Lewis tapped his payment, along with a generous tip. His eyes widened as he noticed this on the receipt, likely confirming his suspicion on Lewis’ identity and he thanked him while handing over two wooden spoons.

“Thank you very much, have a good night.” Lewis gave the man a knowing smile, before pressing a finger to his lips in a silent shh with a quick wink. 

He handed over your cup as you thanked the man too, and slipped out of the shop. The two of you entered the car, placing your gelato in the cup holders.

Lewis tapped on the screen of the car as it came to life, scrolling over the map and pointing at a nearby lake. “I’ll just drive around, I think over there should give us a nice view.” 

“Perfect,” you agreed, sitting back in your seat while the car reversed out of the parking spot.

It only took a couple of minutes, and a gasp left your lips the moment you caught sight of the view from the lake. The water stretched out calmly ahead like liquid glass, the lights from the buildings glittering across the gentle ripples. Melbourne’s skyline looked like something out of a postcard, with sharp high rise buildings and different coloured lights painted in the horizon. The area was quiet once Lewis parked up and switched off the engine, except for the occasional chirp of cicadas or the rustle of a breeze slipping through the nearby trees.

“Wow. This is stunning,” you whispered, undoing your seatbelt and leaning forward to drink in the scenery.

“Really is.” Lewis nodded in agreement, picking up your gelato cup and holding it towards you.

The interior of the car felt warm and safe, lit softly by the streetlamp nearby. You both turned a little more toward each other, setting a napkin on your thighs and dipping your wooden spoons into your gelato. You started with the raspberry white chocolate, which was sweet and heavenly on your tongue, while Lewis scooped a small spoon of his strawberry basil flavour.

“How is it?” You asked, noticing the look on his face as the gelato melted in his mouth.

“It’s not bad actually.” He savoured the taste for a moment, before spooning another bite and bringing it to your lips. “Here, try some.”

You hesitated at first, raising an eyebrow in his direction, but chose to trust him and let him feed you. He watched you in anticipation as it melted on your tongue.

“Okay,” you nodded, identifying the flavour. “It’s definitely not bad, but it tastes like eating strawberries with the leaves.”

“You know what? That’s pretty accurate,” he laughed, going in for another spoon. 

“Try this.” You dipped your spoon in the mango sorbet and lifted it to his mouth once he’d finished with his bite. “You can never go wrong with mango.”

The well kept scruff on his chin brushed against your finger as he leaned in to taste the sorbet off your spoon, humming in agreement. The soft light from the street lamp spilled into the car, catching on the edges of his long eyelashes, the curve of his cheekbones and the stud in his nose. 

There was something about the calm in his expression that made your heart ache just a little, like you were witnessing a part of him few people got to see.

Your gaze lingered on the shape of his mouth, the faintest trace of a smile still tugging at the corner of it as he continued to eat his sweet treat. His braids were tied back, remaining perfectly intact despite his helmet earlier in the day, and for a second, the quiet admiration caught you completely off guard.

God, he was beautiful. In every way possible. 

You chewed on your lower lip, feeling the flutter in your chest again, and quickly looked back down at your gelato like it might offer some kind of emotional cover, but the feeling didn’t go away.

You really liked him.

However, you had to get yourself out of this train of thought as soon as possible, when you caught a glimpse of Lewis licking a drop of melted gelato from his finger, making your heart race instantly.

You needed to say something. Anything.

You cleared your throat softly. “How are you feeling? After the race, I mean.”

He glanced over as he wiped his fingers with his napkin, as though he hadn’t expected the question. With a deep breath, he relaxed into his seat and stared out the window at the skyline.

“Disappointed, honestly,” he admitted, the honesty in his voice catching you slightly off guard. “It’s the first race, but I hoped to get more out of it. I’m still learning the car though. New team, new engine, it’s a lot to figure out. I won’t put it all on one race though, this is just the beginning.”

“That makes sense,” you murmured gently, following his line of sight out towards the horizon. “I believe in you though, it’s going to take some time, but I know you’ll get it.”

“I really appreciate that,” he replied, sincerity laced in his voice.

There was a pause, a softness in the air as you relished each other’s company silently.

Then he turned to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with you today. I wanted to, but after everything, it just… got hectic.”

You gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s okay. I know how this life is,” you shrugged before continuing. “I could see how busy it got for you.”

Placing your gelato back in the cup holder, you turned your body towards him, running your fingers along the leather of your seat. You knew what you wanted to say, but you found yourself struggling to get the words out, doubting if you should even bring it up at all. You also knew Lewis, and how important communication is to him.

“I just-” you hesitated, your voice quieter now, taking a breath before you continued. “I saw you talking to Raye. After the race.”

He watched you with understanding. “Yeah.”

You didn’t want to sound jealous. You weren’t even sure you had the right to. “I was hoping to see you and check on you after the race, but I just…noticed. It looked like you left together.”

“Yeah,” he spoke after a short moment, like he understood what you were hinting at. “We were working on some music. She wanted to run through a few things before flying out. I figured it’d be quieter back at the hotel.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you two were working together.” You suddenly felt heat build up your neck, slightly embarrassed of your assumption.

“Yeah, just a couple of tracks,” he explained. “She’s been helping me experiment with new ideas.”

You nodded slowly, the night air feeling thicker somehow. His words didn’t bring you much relief, the weight of your unspoken words heavy on your tongue.

“I get that these weekends are hectic and crazy,” you began again quietly, struggling to meet his eyes. “I really do. You’re being pulled everywhere, and I don’t expect you to be there with me every second, I just…” You hesitated again. “I guess I hoped we’d get a little more time. We haven’t seen each other in months.”

Lewis didn’t respond right away, but he kept his gaze on you with that steady intensity of his.

“Maybe that’s selfish,” you added with a weak laugh. “I don’t know.”

“It’s not selfish,” he assured you, his voice soft yet certain. “I feel the same, and I’m sorry. I should’ve made more time for you.”

You met his eyes, the tension in the car breaking into something warmer at the reassurance from him.

“I actually wanted to ask you…I know it’s a long shot, but do you have any plans next weekend?” He asked with what seemed to be an offer lingering on his tongue.

You shook your head as you recalled the reality you would be returning to tomorrow. “Not at the moment.”

“Good. Let me make it up to you.” His eyebrows relaxed, angling himself towards you. “Come to the next race in China with me.”

You didn’t answer right away. The idea of hopping on a plane to China so soon after Australia sounded wild… but maybe exactly what you needed. Then, the memory of earlier flashed into your mind, of standing there in the chaos while he disappeared down the corridor with someone else, eating away quietly at your confidence.

“Lewis, I don’t know. It’s not that easy, you know? Flights, time off work…” You sighed, considering all the logistics.

“I know, it’s a lot,” he began earnestly. “But I’ll take care of everything, you know that. I want more time with you, just us.”

You pressed your lips together as you considered his offer. Just the two of you? It was very likely you could end up in the same situation you had earlier today, but this time, it seemed as though he really did just want only you there. You weighed out the consequences with your job and reality back home, but surely you could make it work.

“Okay,” you breathed, making your decision. “Let me see what I can move around.”

Lewis beamed at you warmly, and you didn’t even need to look directly at him to feel it, it was like heat from a flame that had never gone out.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you giggled in response. 

Soon after, you were on your way back to the hotel when his phone buzzed with a reminder of your early morning flights. The city lights flickered across the windshield as you moved through Melbourne’s sleeping streets, the hum of the engine in the background.

You stole a glance at Lewis every now and then, his hand resting loosely on the wheel, the other tucked near his mouth, rubbing his facial hair in thought.

When the hotel came into view, your heart sank a little. It felt almost irrational, but you weren’t ready for the night to end. Lewis pulled into the driveway, the car gliding to a soft stop. Neither of you moved.

“Thank you for tonight,” your voice was just above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peaceful energy in the car.

He turned toward you slightly, his gaze lingering like it didn’t want to let go. “Thank you for coming.”

Your lips curved up in return, but still neither of you moved to open the door. It was like a thread held tightly in between you, not enough to break, not enough to pull you closer. The tension stirred in your stomach, as though the night would immediately end once you touched the door.

Then, suddenly, he moved, sliding out of the driver’s side and handing the keys to the valet, muttering a quick thank you. However, instead of heading for the doors, he circled around the front of the car, coming to your side.

The door raised open as you picked up your bag, turning to step out where you found Lewis standing with a hand held out for you.

A subtle gasp left your lips, a little surprised at his gesture. There was no grin this time, no flirty sparkle in his eye, just his calm intention.

You slipped your hand into his, supporting you as you lifted yourself out. His hand was warm and gentle, like he wasn’t ready to let go either. You silently hoped that he didn’t sense your racing heart and that your palms wouldn’t sweat in his.

Hand in hand, you walked together through the quiet hotel lobby, the soft carpet muffling the sound of your footsteps. The warmth inside contrasted with the crisp night air outside, but was the warmth between you that set your skin ablaze, electric. 

You stepped into the elevator as the doors slid open, the space between you slowly shrinking. He pressed the button to your floor, then to his, and you felt the ground move beneath you.

Lewis used the soft grip on your hand to tug you close, your arms finding their way up, wrapping gently around the back of his neck and pulling him nearer.

His breath was warm against your cheek as his arms twined around your waist. You closed your eyes for just a second, savoring the closeness, the feeling of his strong chest and the scent of his cologne on his neck. Home.

The elevator hummed around you both, a small, suspended moment in time.

With a small ding of the bell, the doors opened again, and it felt like stepping back into reality, but something had shifted.

“Save travels tomorrow,” he whispers, his voice low and warm as you release each other from your embrace.

“You too. I’ll see you next week?” You slid your hand down from his neck, where he captured it in his hold again.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, letting your fingers slip through his as his eyes followed your step back. “Next week. Can’t wait.”

“Goodnight, Lewis.” You moved towards the door, slowly turning towards the corridor as you made your way out.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice almost a whisper as he finished with your name.

The doors slid closed, leaving you with your head spinning as though you’d just been on a perfect first date. But it wasn’t a date.

Was it?

[theeungodlyhour]

@prequelsnet prequels appreciation week: day 4 — costumes PADME AMIDALA in her Tatooine Blue Dress and Poncho costume design by Trisha Biggar [ 1/? ]

[indigo-flowers09]

I absolutely love these designs! and was just wondering what inspired them? I'm curious of what the plot's about, since everyone's species swapped

why not answer this question with another ref sheet(?) :3

I’d like to say, first and foremost, thank you very much for the love 🫶 i love getting asks and requests, these sillies live in my brain and drawing them is their rent

Second, i’m probably gonna keep plot talk on the DL unless i decide not to make a comic! Sorry :,3

Last but not least, inspirations. hooo boy this is a doozy

Firstly i wanna say i was inspired to make a comic specifically because of older ut comic dubs (Christmas party, handplates, Aftertale, etc) along with Scott Pilgrim and @akanemnon’s Twin Runes comic! (check them out i love twin runes a lot!!!)

The idea for the au is really just “What if the humans were monsters and the monsters were humans?” or, also “what if the (former) monsters were on the surface and the (former) humans were underground?” Classic Overtale plot!

Going in order, starting with AXIS, he’s actually one of the newest designs! i made him in my german class last week („•v•„U ) I wanted Axis to have a design change but remain a robot, maybe being more humanoid due to being made by a human! Changed his pipes and light bulb into what resembles hair and his wheel into roller blades!

Next up, Ceroba! i’ll be honest, i really don’t like Cerobas canon design that much. Love the colors but the short skirt and boots are not it, especially if she’s intended to be a more traditional japanese character. Like she’s not a magical girl, she’s in her 30’s?? Anywho, i made her prominently orange instead of pink (again, magical girl) along with lightening natural hair due to age and stress!

Clover. Clover Clover Clover!!! what do i even say about this precious little pup?! :3

I guess i could start with them being a Kitsune, of course, being switched with the Ketsukanes. Seeing as Ceroba is a mother and is often portrayed as taking a motherly role to clover, i figured a kitsune would fit them nicely! Along with being a cute, fun to draw, and curious troublemaker! I always like to remind myself that Clover’s just a kid.

Next up, Star! or, in this au, Stanley Sterling, the performative sheriff of a humble little town! i decided to switch up his poncho a little, for the sake of changing his design, gave him chaps (i like to call em pantaloons hoohoo!) and teal tassels for days! He’d prolly know more about cowboys than canon Starlo because, yknow, he lives on the surface!

Ah Martlet, or now, Marlette! but most just call her Marley. She has ~4 different outfits planned, a cozy, aviator style one for “Snowdin”, a sleeveless shirt with her flannel round her waist and a bandana for “the Dunes” and that flannel over her shoulders for “New Home”! along with a tee and pj’s for the epilogue. Her outfit is easy to manipulate so it only stays the same so often. Also, talon boots! ;]

And Dalv! Poor fella stayed a monster for the plot 😿 but i changed his design so he’s got a jacket similar to the one he has in Snowdin in uty but a whole lot smaller lol, along with a Batty pendant, a red vest and shoes and carved down horns! poor fella :(

Feel free to ask questions about these guys i am more than pleased to talk about them

[queenmelodis]

Flying High - an animal hrt comic - page 1

So this is the continuation of Bird HRT - but since her treatment is done, well, it's not really HRT anymore! Now this is a comic about her and other people living in a world like this.

id:

comic layout, flying high - an animal hrt comic. page 1.

panel 1 - bird standing in front of the entrance to hyper city, gabon. there is a space elevator in the background. today i entered hyper city - the capital of the coalition of nations. it was moving in day. because… it's easier to be me in this place than back home. to be honest though… i was terrified. i'm just a small town bird and… this city… is so big. it's really scary.

panel 2 - the bird is walking along the street. someone shouts 'outta the way, chump!' the bird jumps in shock. first of all, turns out i walk too slow. but if i try to go faster, i start hopping or flapping.

panel 3 - the bird is small in a crowd of large people. she walks around and tries to say 'hi, morning, hello' to passersby to no response. second, the people here don't seem to like it when you talk to them. more small town differences, i guess.

panel 4 - the bird wears a plain lavender coloured sheet covering her body in a changing room. third, i need some advice for clothes. to avoid being all nakey, i use a poncho. but i feel i need something a bit more.

fourth… i found out i'm too trusting…

end id

[squad-724]

DAY 10 of making a clone OC picrew

1.1 update!

Play HERE

New items:

heterochromia tab

Tooth gap and braces in mouths tab

Two new tattoos: crown of stars and Fives

Sideburns

French braids and carrot orange, pink colors for hair

Electric burn scar

Two new clothing bases: greys and ponchos (in full color range)

Three new armor colors: mint, pink and brown

Three new armor paints: Echo, bubbles and skeleton

Clone force 99/Bad Batch pauldron

Crosshair chest strap

4 new accessories: Echo’s headpiece, rose in mouth, toothpick and snow/sand goggles

Pride pins tab: gay, lesbian, bi, pan, trans, nonbinary, ace, aro and aroace

What you can do now:

List for 2.2 update: gauze, stitches. Graying streaks, commando armor, makeup, lipstick

[goatsgomoo]

Steve Clark Traffic Warlock cosplay

Alright, gave up on making my own robe from scratch. Honestly, the poncho doesn't look too bad as is, so I think cutting and sewing to give it sleeves is low on the priority list (though I might see about making just sleeve extensions if the fabric I got for the first version is a close enough match). I'm not a fan of the front pocket, but I suspect I'd make a mess of things trying to remove it.

I think next up is wiring up LEDs for the glowing eyes, then making one of the props: either the traffic light staff or the tire backpack.

I don't really know what I'm doing when it comes to electronics, but I figure I'll need to get some object that takes batteries and exposes leads, a switch, some wire (what gauge?) and probably a resistor, then tape the LEDs to my glasses I guess?

For the prop, I'm more confident in my ability to make the staff than the backpack, and I think the the staff is more iconic, but the practical side of me would much rather wear a backpack around a convention than carry a top-heavy staff around for 4 days.

[kieranscaren]

You, me, and everything caught in the fire.

⍣ ೋ 1/4 series / sevika x highborn reader.

(aka, piano teacher sevika grieving her dead parents)

Ten years before everything goes to shit, Sevika flees. Scraping by in unfamiliar territory to make ends meet, being your piano instructor isn't so bad. // cross posted :)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Love is a disease to the mind. At thirty, rot swallows the undercity and Sevika is stupid for searching for an underlying in the cracks of a burnt-out city. Snuffed like the cigarette beneath her boot, her parents are gone.

Senile, old fools. They lived and died in that same rickety, sad excuse for a house. The house where Sevika learned to play and shoot, where she grew from a useless child into a tall fool. When the flames had swallowed it, her parents reclined into their chairs and let it take them.

Fleeing isn’t a smart choice. Sevika’s aware of that in her second, and last, remaining change of clothes as the boat she’s in crashes the shore. Like her childhood cat, she’s curious about what the world around her looks like before the car speeds down.

Real, lush, green surrounds the island Sevika will have to acquaint herself with. Not too far, yet eons away from the place she can, in no good standing, still call home. She feels for nothing but the emptiness in her pockets and the loose change scattered around the ocean floor. Is she desperate enough to dive in? She’s thinking she might be as she walks to the closest bar.

A drink will do her right. A poker game should give her just enough to get a hot meal and a room for the night. She could become a whore, like her cousin. Nobody around them at the seaside, too-fancy bar looks interesting enough for her to spread her legs for.

It smells of sea salt and aged tobacco. The owner, an aging silver fox, serves the drinks himself.

“You look like you’ve seen a few things.” The bartender chuckles to himself as Sevika takes the seat. Amusement is a good thing, in light of her empty pockets now. Laugh it up, she thinks. He might declare it’s on the house if she finds him so funny.

“You’d be right.” Sevika shakes her head. It’s none of his business what she’s seen, the horrors she has endured while he’s stood there, pouring the shots. Country music filters through the expensive sounding speakers and the patrons are tipping their invisible hats. It’s an island for Janna’s sake, they should be swimming or dancing, not wallowing in whiskey and pretend misery.

“I’m going to assume you’re not from here.” The bartender adds after a few, sliding forward a glass of something strong. Sevika chooses not to tell the amused man that she can’t pay for it — let the idiot figure it out himself long after she’s left.

“Good thing most of the people here aren’t. It’s a retired man’s wet dream, this place.” Sevika gives an indignant scoff. She could consider herself retired — though most retirees are by choice, not by their incompetence.

“I wasn’t led here by my dreams.” It was the shift of the current and whispers she heard years ago in the alleyways near her home. Sevika sighs again, reaching for the cigar she does not have. “I’ll settle in fine, though.” The worst thing you can be is a newcomer.

The bartender chuckles and shakes his head. So amused. Sevika downs the drink.

“I can help you with that. Need a job?”

Sevika had spent thirty-three good years in control. As a child, she had an ant farm on her bedside table. Observing the little ants follow the biggest, seeing them all congregate to reach one common goal when needed. As a teenager, she was a womanizer. From one poor Zaunite girl to the next, the shape of her fingers burned into each one. It felt good as the control had burned into her twenties. Domineering, altruistic, a good fuck, all things the Sevika just two days ago could proudly call herself.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Come on, Sevika. A job’s a job.”

“Do I look like a fucking maid?” In her dirty poncho and rubbery shoes with a shaggy mop over her brows that desperately needs to be cut. The bartender is as helpful as her father was. “You have to experience everything at least once.” He always used to say while running his fingers over their piano. He experienced roasting to death in his living room. Sevika experiences torture.

“You look like a hard worker,” The bartender shakes his head, throwing a towel over his shoulders. The bar has all but cleared up in the middle hours of the morning. Sevika’s been sleeping on a bench in the corner.

“Don’t fucking—” The bartender interrupts her.

“And a smart woman. You need to do this, and you are well aware of that fact.” Sevika isn’t aware of anything but the rumbling of her stomach. The man opposed to her feeds her scraps and Sevika takes it like a dog. The bartender hears it and slides her a glass of water. She can’t live off this.

“Fine.” She relents, nearly banging her head against the cedar wood bar table. Give me the information, and I’ll see about it."

The job in question is in a swallowing mass of a house beside the beach. Sand digs into the soles of her curled boots as Sevika leaves them at the welcome mat, per the lady’s request. The air is cold and crisp indoors. In between the boring blues and whites of the Foyer, Sevika stands in the bartender's maroon coat and blouse.

Somebody takes her boots and coat to the rack, and Sevika finds the largest spot on the sky-blue sofa. The Lady takes the love seat as opposed to her.

“You’re the second one to come in today.” That is not a shocking revelation. Sevika leans further into herself. The Lady is draped in her grief, blackened for a funeral the house shows no signs of. A Victorian, obsidian dress surrounds her, pearls hanging off her tall neckline. In the Undercity, people only dressed like her in winter. Every garment would be tacked on to stay warm. Every coat and blouse, dress and shirt. The owner of this castle is decked out in fall.

“… You’re still looking, aren’t you?” Sevika wears her nicest tone. The Lady gives no thanks. Awkwardly, she coughs into her long sleeve and wearily nods her head. “My daughter is a kind girl. Her last teacher went so suddenly, per the short notice.” Sevika wasn’t aware she was being timed. The lady continues.

“You can play piano, can’t you?” Sevika coughs, itching for the cigarillo the bartender has finally provided. Not here, not now, she reminds herself when the Lady’s gray eyes meet hers again.

“Yes.” There is no finality in her answer. The Lady must notice that before the desperation takes hold of her. She sputters into her sleeve again, then nods.

“I can provide housing and food. There’s the renovated pool house out back, that my daughter’s old instructor used to reside in. The servants should help you settle in within the next day or so.”

Shelter and hot food. Sevika’s inner child goes puppy-eyed. She nods, and the lady accepts her.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

[moonsvillain]

hotwings au where hawks is a vampire, dabi is a human, and they meet through the vampire equivalent of doordash.

dabi shows up at his door, scruffy and woozy (guy who's been doing this as a full time job and is not coping with the blood loss very well)

hawks is (rightfully) concerned and is ready to cancel his order but dabi immediately disagrees because "that'll fuck up my ratings sooo bad dude don't be an asshole"

hawks: "???"

dabi: "i really need this job man"

hawks kinda shrugs and asks if dabi's up to anything for the next few hours and dabi doesn't have anything going on so hawks invites him in and immediately sits this guy down on his couch to feed him and let him rest for at least four hours so he's not indirectly accused of manslaughter

one must imagine the disposition of an alley cat encountering canned food for the first time: internal battle of mistrust versus yummy treats

dabi goes down kicking and screaming

(the day he goes over to hawks' place it's raining so hard you can barely see and all dabi has is a cheap plastic poncho. hawks' place has heating—he very 'reluctantly' curls up on the couch)

hawks is probably the worst cook on earth but when he tells dabi this, he refuses to let hawks order food for him; dabi would literally rather die than subject another minimum wage worker to the storm outside just to come to this rich asshole's home

which ends up with dabi in hawks' kitchen, making himself a meal

(which, he probably wouldn't usually do this, but the blood loss is kind of getting to him. dabi's decision making has slowly trickled down to the average level it is when he gets drunk)

when he's fed and warm and hawks has forced him to watch two animated movies dabi could not give less of a shit about he finally turns to dabi like

"ok i know we're having a great time but also i really need to eat something. like. you. preferably."

dabi shrugs and offers up his arm, getting progressively more sleepy while hawks finishes his meal before falling asleep pressed against hawks' side

wakes up the next morning with a blanket pulled over him, cheek pressed to a throw pillow with a littleee bit of drool staining the fabric under him

sits up and looks around, armed only with blurry memories of the night before

("did i... sleep with this guy...!?!??!?")

finds a note on the table and unfolds it, trying to figure out what the hell is going on

(lovedddd hanging w u yesterday :P off at work feel free 2 make urself breakfast before u go. U should know where everything is. tip on the counter 4 u. xoxo hawks)

dabi, slightly mortified at the implication he rooted around in this guy's kitchen when he was out of it yesterday finds the tip

it's literally, like, $500 dollars

dabi scribbles down his phone number and sticks it on the fridge with a magnet

(half because he really needed that money and is pleasantly surprised that he got rent money a week earlier than he was expecting)

(half because he might not remember yesterday entirely, but he remembers feeling safe and warm and being addicted to that rare sensation)

hawks is very happy when he gets home, even if dabi isn't there, when he finds his little gift on the fridge

[calkestisweek]

We're just 5 (FIVE?!?! HOW?!?) Days out from Cal Kestis Week 2025- a week dedicated to our favorite pink-ponchos-look-best-on-him Jedi!

24 prompts/7 days of art, fics, edits, virtual photography, and MORE for the amazing Cal Kestis!

Come Join Us June 8th - 14th 2025!!!

I have LINKS

The PROMPT LIST- 6 days, 4 prompts each, with the 7th day as a free/catch up day!

( - and don't worry, you do NOT have to do every prompt or every day. Pick what vibes with you the best even if that's one day or two prompts combined, or even just one prompt. This is for FUN.)

The FAQ - a non-exhausted list of questions and answers updated for 2025!

The AO3 COLLECTION - currently locked, will be unlocked June 7th

The ASK BOX - question, comments, concerns? Come to the ask box!

Now I have RULES

No AI generated text or images will be promoted during this event.

All ships, genres, ratings, and formats are welcome just as long as they’re Cal-centric! (Does not mean Cal-POV, the focus just needs to be Cal.)

Any previews of art, fic, or other media will only be reblogged if they are SFW.

All works must be tagged with the appropriate ships and warnings.

If you are posting fanfiction on tumblr, any words beyond the first 500 must be under “read more.”

Works posted on tumblr will only be found/reblogged if they use the tag #calkestisweek2025 (and it's variants).

[memesmadefullmetal]

IT’S MOD MUSTANG’S BIRTHDAY!!! 🥳🔥♥️

(yes you all get to see this edit again)

To celebrate, we have a birthday boy themed poll! 🥳 Get voting for your favourite Roy down below! 👉🏻🗳👈🏻

Happy Birthday Mod Mustang!!! Hope you have a fantastic day! 🫶🏻♥️

- Mod Hawkeye 🦅

[pupdiaries]

hihihiii!! i saw your blog after you reposted my art!!(which, thank you so much for btw!!) i would love to see your headcanons on regressor battat!! :3

omg thank you so much!!! I loveeee your art so much so i’m honored to see you here. with that out of the way:

regressor battat headcanons !!

it’s hard for him to regress. this is someone who has been ostracized and othered so much that he feels most comfortable in the skin of someone else — he’s self-reliant and bitter and everything he assumes a regressor can’t or shouldn’t be.

the idea of regression irks him for a long time, but he can’t put his finger on why. he’s seen tenna regress and helped him work through it as mike, and he’s been fine with it — plus, i’d like to think pluey pet regresses, and battat is more than fine with helping them out when they're in that mindset.

his problem, i think, stems from self worth. he doesn't feel like he deserves to be able to regress, to feel small. he naturally takes on more of a caretaker role and he thrives in it, but more than anything he wants to let go for a bit.

he starts off small. age dreaming, probably, getting a feel for it. he feels embarrassed the whole time -- it's a very private affair where he locks himself in the mike room while the other mikes are out and about, and just... tries to feel small. turns on a family friendly channel on the TV, gets comfy, and just feels.

i think he hates how much more relaxed he feels during it.

for a while, his regression is very, very private. the off-hours when everyone else is in bed and he's gotten nowhere with his latest theories. it starts happening more unconsciously as time goes on; whenever he gets stuck in his theorizing, he definitely slips into a smaller mindset where he's stifling tears and trying his best not to throw a tantrum because everyone else is asleep.

the other mikes find out not through battat telling them, but by them happening to be awake for longer than usual. jongler and pluey are debating whether or not they should try to convince battat to get some rest, considering how irritable he's been lately --- more than usual --- and when they turn to look at the person in question, they just ... find him under his desk, rocking back and forth, unusually quiet.

they approach him very gently, cautiously. i headcanon that battat's also autistic but not prone to melting down until the stress and anxiety build up more than he can manage, so they're a bit used to it. what they aren't used to is how he's sniffling, trying not to cry, and what they definitely aren't used to is how he just breaks when jongler asks if he's alright. they and pluey just hold him for a while.

he's very touchy and sensory-seeking when regressed, mostly with himself more than jongler and pluey. he chews on things constantly and fiddles with his poncho when he runs out of things to mess with. i think he definitely has a few objects he's particularly attached to. a small cloth blanket that he carries around constantly when regressed for example.

jongler gets him an adult-sized pacifier that's green and black and battat falls in love with it. it's a good alternative to chewing on pencils, after all. he likes other baby-ish toys as well -- i think he'd like those rattles and sensory books a lot.

usually regressed to a much younger age. maybe 0-4. feels smaller when he's tired, and most of the time he slips late at night when he's fighting the exhaustion of the day. it's become a bit of a nightly routine to clean his pacifier, get any books or toys, dim the lights, etc. to the point where battat actually gets half of a sleep schedule put together.

i think he's also more caregiver-dependent than he'd ever admit, but jongler and pluey are more than happy to help him out whenever he needs them, and they know him well enough to gauge when he needs something and just won't tell them or if he's able to manage on his own. jongler's better at reminding him to do things (at least when they themselves remember to do things) and pluey provides more of the comfort, especially when they're in their cat suit. battat likes petting him.

battat tends to verbally shut down when regressed, or have significantly less verbosity. he knows some sign language through researching on his own since pluey's nonverbal, but some of that knowledge is lost when little. pluey re-teaches him some of those basic signs like yes, no, maybe, and some needs-based ones. it works out relatively well even if his signing is a bit clumsy.

i think in general he's just a lot comfier once he discovers regression and actually lets himself regress. he sleeps most nights, he's actually taking care of himself, all of that. and he's happy :)

image credits:

-stars

-battat

-jellycat

-dividers

[levitheeldritch]

4 dreamtale redesigns done!

A bunch of words explaining designs and everything below the cut.

Also plz forgive me for misconceptions, I'm writing this at almost 4:am and I'm not well versed in dreamtale lore.

I see nothing wrong with the original designs, they just don't fit with my style. Dream's colors didn't really sit with my art well, and I always felt unsatisfied with the results, so I changed it a bit. Plus, the little... Glove/shoe cuff things???? Took too many layers and were a bit hard to add, so I wanted a design without cuffs... At the expense of overcomplicating Nightmare because I had my mind deadset on giving him cool whispy cape things. There were also the crowns... Circlets... Whatever.

I personally didn't like Nightmare's crown designs, but I dislike even more that it doesn't parallel Dream's crown. One's a moon, and the other... Isn't. Even though they have a sun and moon motif. So, I just made them a bit different, to both make them parallel visually, and fit with the rest of the redesign.

I also just really wanted to draw shawls and ponchos.

Ok, separate explanations.

Dream's palette was designed to be a bit softer, less of a stand out yellow. Like a warm sunny day. Still a happy, light color scheme, but more subdued and mature than his more playful younger self, which, while it has similar colors, was meant to portray much more of a stand out color scheme. At the same time, I did want the older and younger outfits to pay homage to each other. There's the crown, sure, but there's also the shoes, similar stripes on the shirt, and the poncho » shawl change is meant to look somewhat similar.

Nightmare time!

His Corrupted form is meant to mimic his younger self much less. I feel as though Nightmare would try to disconnect himself from his younger counterpart. No crown. No shoe apples. No matching colors.

His passive colors are meant to portray a much more quiet and subdued feel to him. Someone who doesn't want to stand out. It was also meant to be what I perceive as sleepy colors (I feel sleepy writing this, I'm going to pass out so hard as soon as I hit post).

HOWEVER, you may notice that Nightmare's shawl is pretty close, save for the colors. That's the only connection I wanted there to be, just a general shape that's consistent over both designs, connecting them without being super obvious.

Edit: sorry for the cut off, I fell asleep while writing this. Editing in the morning.

In conclusion, the hardest part of drawing these, was trying not to post them one by one.