#sorry for removing the first version

[ageless-aislynn]

Commander Shepard was spotted by this intrepid reporter entering the showers... and he was NOT alone! 😱

When the poll ends, the answer will be revealed!

Several squadmates can be ruled out because they were spotted at the same time out getting ice cream. 🍦🍨 So if your favorite isn't here, please know they were having a great deal of fun, living their best life, while this reporter had to accept the limitations of the number of poll options. 🤷‍♀️😉

Also, Admiral Steven Hackett left this voice message while Shepard was... indisposed: "Commander Shepard, I know you're busy and definitely not showering either by yourself or with a friend or two, but we've gotten word of an Alliance cat stuck in a tree, surrounded by Reapers, and we need you to immediately divert course to provide assistance."

Aislynn, reporter for the Scandalous Gazette, signing off for now! Remember: always duck a punch and make sure to avoid indoctrination! 😎👍😜

[crashdavis]

branching off from film criticism into ghost hunting

[crazyw3irdo]

if you made a hamlet uquiz i would owe you my soul

honestly i’d have to think way harder about that one lol r&j comes naturally to me cause i’ve read it dozens of times whereas hamlet i’ve read like. twice maybe. not fully writing off the idea but i’d just have to think of something more…. besides i couldn’t top rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead so doing the same free will type stuff would just be boring-

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Alright alright- if you haven't seen it, @one-joe-spoopy delivered a full course meal of their spooky penumbra au with a lil desert from @esquemeencanta a beautiful picrew for visuals (KISSES KISSES KISSES, i love it), so of course it is only right I return the favor with my abandoned monster hunter au with both the original and newest version (so it's like a Buy One Get One)

Basic details: I had plans to write a full length fic covering this au in my head, I never got around to it. This was supposed to be a Benten Lives au. Peter was originally a changeling in the first version (not a vampire like I originally claimed, in my defense my memory is shit sometimes). Juno and Ben were both monsters as well, based on the Greek maenad, devotees to Dionysus that drank until drunk and sang and danced up in the mountains. Rita is human (werewolf enthusiast), Vespa is human, Buddy is a solar elf, and Jet I never got around to.

I don't have much details on the origins of this au but from I can scrap together for the first version it seems like Benten and Juno were attending an art gala. Maenad in this world are terribly destructive when drunk and Benten didn't want to be that, so while he loved their Ma and hid her booze, he "loved Juno more and worked double time to hide the booze from him." To round out this full picture of the twins and maenad, "Maenad are hard to love. Benten is easy though."

Changelings are abandoned children of fae. Fae parents swap their child for a human child and the human parent raises the changeling until the changeling returns to the fae world one day, or until the child eats their face off. They have two faces, the face of the human child and their true face. They have sharp pointy teeth and eat flesh. What this implies about Peter’s relationship with Mag and Slip, I can't exactly say. I came up with this version and concept years ago.

The twins were attending an art gala and Juno notices a lady in a long dress. His image is flickering in and out of existence though. I believe this person was meant to be Peter. I had vague plans for the lights to go out, someone to scream, and when they come back on there's been a murder in the gala, an art piece stolen, and it's up to Detective Juno to solve the case with Ben at his side. They end up splitting up and reuniting, Ben did brief interviews, Juno was investigating the gala space. A big chase was to ensue across the event space and end with Juno cornering the person from earlier and watching in horror as their bones crack and their entire form shifts to match his twin. Their image flickers again. Peter finally reveals his true face and makes some snarky remark before escaping out a window into the night. The murdered victim was because Peter needed to eat, the stolen art piece was his heist, and Ben comes to find Juno down the corridor with a teary face as he explains that he just got done with only one interview... meaning Juno was not working with Benten the whole time. He was working with the changeling. He was conned.

In the newest version, Juno and Benten are no longer maenad they're human. Rita, Vespa, Buddy are the same as the original. Jet is a werewolf. And in this version Peter is a vampire (in my notes I refer to him as Vamp 'Reyev). Juno is a monster hunter in this world, no longer just a detective. Rita works still as his second hand. Ben is alive.

It was supposed to follow the same format as the original: art gala, black out, big storm outside, power returns, and people are dead. They're pale and bloodless. Juno was hired for that night to play security, scare monsters out and keep people inside safe. Ben was there as a guest. Rita is back at the office on standby. So when she gets on call she starts working with Juno to puzzle everything together. When they figure out its a monster amongst the human guests ("a monster thief Mistah Steel! A vampire monster thief!") Juno gets excited to start the hunt, but when he remembers Ben is with him he's torn between doing his job and getting out of there while they can together. If Juno leaves the other guests are likely to die. In the end, Juno and Ben stay. They stick close together even as more guests start dropping like flies and their bodies turn up bloodless. Ben never really knew or understood what it was Juno does for a living. Now he's learning too much.

It concludes with a big chase down a long corridor, thunder and lightening outside, the power goes out again, and Juno stops.  A figure illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window with their back turned to him. A metallic tang fills the air. Lightning fills the room and Juno catches glowing amber eyes. Dark liquid in streaks dripping down their chin. Juno raises his blaster in the dark. He can't aim. He only has one shot. In the blink of an eye, the figure is gone and suddenly here's someone next to him. He's engulfed in a heady flowery scent and a sharp pain pierces his neck. He cracks his blaster against the side of his assailant's head, but they clamp down harder. Juno is drained and left in the corridor to die. He's going to fall unconscious so before he does he takes the shot. He doesn't know if he hit anything as the world turns dark.

Ben finds him and gets them out of the art gala. Rita has a car come collect them and she meets Ben at a hospital. Juno recovers. He knows what hes going to hunt from now on. Rita and Ben are his anchors but they can only do so much as Juno's hunt leads him to an abandoned lighthouse where all hell breaks loose.

Vamp 'Reyev in this au is hungry and looking for his next meal of the century. He's blended in with society and concealed his identity going by different names for ages. He's evaded monster hunters before in the past but something about this one intrigues him. He's playing with fire. He doesn't care. Nureyev’s eyes have an amber hue to them. He's freakily fast and climbs up walls and ceilings. He's never out of date with the newest fashion trends but his vocabulary gives him away.

Monster-Human society are at odds with one another, they have been for what feels like forever. The humans want all monstered rounded up and eradicated. The monsters want all humans rounded up and eradicated. No one knows who fired the first shots or who's blood was spilt first or why. This is the way things have been. They've escalated so now there's monster hunters like Juno. On the flip side there's also human hunters, monsters that track down monster hunters and get paid to take revenge. Humans don't wander at night out of fear and old wives tales. Monsters don't mingle during the day out of fear and old fairy tales. There are multiple ways to become a monster hunter. Through the Academy, work for hire like Juno, apprenticeship. Sasha went through the Academy and that feeds into Dark Matters. Juno had no prior training beyond his time as a cop, monster hunting pays more so that's why he chose it.

[blackwaxidol]

hey can u elaborate on what you mean by that song being anti ww2? i cant really find any evidence about it besides some anotations that seem like a kinda stretch imo

"Vinushka"..?

The music video is rather overt.

Here are the lyrics from DEGwiki...

I refer to the wiki for song lyrics because I like having the kana and romaji there, but—and this should go without saying—do keep in mind there are a few ways you can translate any given sentence and I want to point that out for this song in particular.

As far as annotations, I don't mind telling you what a certain line means.

[toktonki]

we live in a world where companies are retroactively removing any trace of makeup from a male character whose design was specifically inspired by black punk and its connection to queer history.

others are adding glittery heart markings to dainty little dragons to make them "look more female"

but you people choose to whine about one(1) masculine woman existing apparently being a "lesbian stereotype". please grow up

[darkdragon768]

Fuck it, I'll continue playing the uncensored version of N64 Ocarina of Time now.

[gibbearish]

idk looks pretty clearly posted to me, kinda seems like you just. didnt read the rules and then broke them lmao

Today's sponsored post is to inform everyone that Reddit's r/Art community is run by pigs with no lives. At best, I was mildly annoying initially. They just slung mud. If this is what a community touts as its “best,” it's trash.

[visforvengeance]

Where did you sleep last night?

Requested by: no one :)

Notes: hey y’all lmao. Sinners brought me out of retirement like I knew it would. I did post this on AO3 if you’ve already read it lmao so please don’t come at me. Anyway I need Michael in a room in which there are no others…or you could all watch I don’t give a shit🫦. I do have one for stack in the works!! Coming very soon xx

Warnings: cursing ofc, sex. I think that’s it. My sympathies if I didn’t get everything. But as always read at your own risk!!

Stack x reader

You heard him before you saw him, Stack. Always loud, always smooth talking. The twins were back in the Delta, and you hadn’t heard not one word about it. You’d think it’d get back to you considering the history between you and Smoke before he left…and when he left.

You turned the corner to where the train was, and there he stood in all his glory. He was almost still the same boy from before, but colder. You knew of all the things those boys did because you were right there beside them, as much as they tried to protect you from it. Yours and Mary’s mama had been kind enough to raise them up after theirs died. Raised them with their own daughters, like their own sons.

But, something happened, and then your first kiss was with Smoke in the dead of the night. And then more happened later on. There had been just too much between you, but he still up and left anyway.

You stomped over to him angrily.

“Where’s that sorry ass brother of yours?”

He turned to you, not surprised at all to see you.

“Well, hello to you. ‘Long time no see! How have you been?’

‘Great, thank you for asking.’”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled him into a much-needed hug. You enjoyed his embrace for a minute, rubbing his back. Then, you whispered,

“I missed your dumb ass.”

He chuckled as he pulled away

He took a long, hard look at you, really seeing you after all these years. You’re a grown woman now, not some annoying ass little girl that his brother used to chase after when they were younger. He missed you. And he knows for sure that his brother does too. Smoke had been with countless women during his time in Chicago, no doubt. But none of them compares to you.

“He’s at our new spot,” gold teeth and pearly whites on display. The boys always did have such beautiful smiles.

“Whatchu talkin’ about, boy?”

“You know that old sawmill down by the way,” you nodded

“Consider it under new management. Club Juke is now open.”

You didn’t know whether to be proud or slap that stupid ass smile off of his face. Ten years, you ain’t seen or heard not a word from these motherfuckers and now they’re here opening a juke joint?

You shook your head and removed yourself from Stack’s arms, stomping to your car. Mary had accompanied him with a different version of the same argument. Stack knew that his brother was in for it with how hot the fire in your eyes burned. You were hot. Hotter than this Mississippi heat, hotter than the devil’s wrath.

You walked inside of the old, rundown building. They’d already begun setting up, gathering the old crew. The smell of Annie’s fried catfish filled the place. Sammie was on stage, strumming his guitar lazily. Grace talked with Annie while she cooked.

It almost felt like home again. Almost.

Smoke walked out of the office to see a ghost in the shape of you standing at the entrance of his establishment. Smoke was always stoic, perfectly motionless. Until he saw you. No, he couldn’t let his resolve crumble completely when he saw you. But, he did let you see the softness only a select few could muster in the only way he knew how.

His eyes. Always his eyes. Emotions swirling around like a tornado. He knew how you felt after he left; he studied you well enough to expect it. But was he prepared to face his consequences? A man who stood so tall, so fearless. Even in the face of death, he stoically stood his ground.

But seeing you here right now had him scared to breathe. Luckily, no one paid attention to the two of you. They knew better. You walked up to him. No words were spoken between the two of you, but the looks on your faces said a lot.

You walked past him and into the back room, and he followed closely behind. When the two of you were alone, you spoke up.

“Ten years. No goodbye. No letters. Nothing. Then I see Stack hanging by the train with Slim. Come to find out, you boys done opened yourselves up a juke joint.”

Silence again, this time he wasn’t looking at you.

“No hello. No ‘I missed you’. When was you gon come see me, Elijah?”

You were losing your cool. How could he just stand there?

“Could you fucking say something?” You never yelled. Loud and boisterous, of course. But, damn it you never yelled. He didn’t flinch, though. He finally looked at you.

“What the fuck do I look like coming to you after I just shot my own damn daddy? Hmm?” He got in your face, he towered over you. But that didn’t scare you. He never did, no matter how frightening or threatening he tried to be. It never worked on you, and it will not now.

“How was you gon help us? Cry to ya mama? Wait. I know. You was gon get that sheriff granddaddy of yours, huh?” He laughed. He didn’t know what else to do so he fucking laughed.

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I would’ve helped you the best way I could. But, you shut me out and made that decision for me!”

Yes, you were young. You absolutely should not have been involved in the shit that you were. But you were in love. And so was he. Still, you both are. So, what do two fucking idiots do when they’re in love? They hold onto each other as tightly as fate will allow.

“Smoke, you never did give me the benefit of the doubt. Why do you think no one came looking for you two for all those years? Even now? With the case being unsolved?”

There is no statute of limitations on murder after all..

“But, even after all of that. I didn’t deserve to know that you were leaving?”

All of this fucking silence. You couldn’t stand it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly. He wasted no time wrapping himself back around you. You held each other so close and tightly, you’d think you were killing each other.

You stayed that way until the obvious question couldn’t be ignored anymore.

“Why you back here? Now of all times?”

Too much shit had happened in the time that he was gone. Clearly none of it was enough to bring him back.

“Missed it. We wanted something of our own and thought home would be the best place to do it,” he was avoiding looking at you. He did that when there was something he didn’t want to say to you. It was almost shocking to see him still so childlike in this moment.

“Elijah Moore, you hated this place with every fiber of your being. Why are you here?”

It was weird hearing his own name. He’d been Smoke for so long, Elijah almost felt like a stranger to him. But, hearing you say it made him remember exactly who Elijah Moore was. And, he was yours.

“I love you too much.”

Now he was finally looking at you. Still so vulnerable and childlike. For such a short sentence, it was beyond loaded. Somehow, you understood everything Smoke couldn’t express to you because he didn’t know how.

You couldn’t help but kiss him. It was messy, rough, all teeth and bite. His hands roamed all over your body, squeezing and gripping at whatever he could like a starving man. A starved man he was. He turned you around and pressed you against the desk.

“I missed you too much,”

His lips left kisses on your neck and a haze in your brain. You missed him, too, more than anything. You turned and pushed him back into the chair that was behind him.

“You think you gon come back after all these years fuck me like it’s nothing?” You moved to straddle his waist, pulling him into another heated kiss. His hands gripped at the fat of your ass and thighs, kneading them like dough.

He pressed you into him further, making you grind against his cock, causing the both of you to moan. He didn’t intend for you to keep grinding, though. “I’m a big girl now, Smoke. Let me show ya.”

Somehow, the two of you ended up on the floor with your clothes thrown about. You were still on top of him. Lips kissing over every scar and mark that littered Elijah’s body.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you mumbled against his skin. You sat up straight to look at him.

“Never did a day go by when I didn’t think of you. I love.” Then, you began moving your hips. You hadn’t had sex with him in 10 years, but it was even better than before. You traded feeling the pain of splinters in your knees for the warming pain of Smoke’s cock splitting you open.

Smoke was quiet, aside from the occasional groan he let out. His eyes raked over your body. He watched the way your breasts bounced with your movement. They were bigger, not that he minded either way. Your body was softer than before, too. More to grab on to, more to hold on to, more to love.

None of the girls he’d been with (not that there were very many. They were not you and it started to piss him off eventually) compared to you in the slightest. They didn’t smell or taste like you. Definitely didn’t feel as good as you.

Now he felt like he finally knew what was missing. He’d been chasing something he’d left for 10 years.

The eye contact between you two had not wavered the entire time you’d been riding him. There was still so much that neither of you had said, but in this moment, you understood everything. He let you see the vulnerability, lust, regret, the ache he’d had the moment he left you and how it had stayed with him until he was back with you again.

You nodded to him, telling him that it was ok. It was ok to just feel in this moment with you. In which he did. He’d been holding back on cumming in you for both of your sakes and his masculinity. But that thought had passed as he released deep inside of you.

Still hard, he flipped the two of you over in missionary. Now, it was his turn to focus on your pleasure. He pounded into you heavy and rough, and you took it, like you always did. Between your moans, the skin slapping, the fucking wet sounds your pussy made. It was safe to say that you were NOT quiet. But the music that was being played and the overcrowding voices silenced you splendidly.

Once again, the two of you were locking eyes. Him fucking you knocked the breath out of you completely, but this was what you wanted. And needed. Because Elijah was back. And, maybe what the two of you had could continue. And, it goes well. Or it doesn’t. Neither of you fucking cared. Because at that moment, it was just the two of you again.

He wasn’t leaving you again. Not even through the hellish nights you’re bound to encounter.

[defectivevillain]

the human condition

pairings: the brothers/Reader, Diavolo/Reader, Solomon/Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

summary: You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. “Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task. “Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” “A paper cut,” Lucifer repeats with bemusement and skepticism. “You got hurt by a piece of paper,” he says incredulously.

The demon brothers learn a valuable lesson as they grow to include you in their lives: humans are very strange.

word count: 3.3k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sickness, medical care, injury.

I know demons are virtually the same as humans canonically, but I’ve always wanted to explore the brothers’ reactions to human things MC does, whether it’s a sneeze or a bruise or getting sick… And, well, here we are.

This won’t be canon compliant. This is set to take place sometime after Episode 15 and all seven brothers are included. The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used**. There’s one bit where they’re stated to wear glasses & another where they had braces and currently wear retainers. But I feel like that’s a pretty easy thing to imagine, so… yeah!

**The reader is referred to with it/its pronouns once in Belphegor's snippet—skip reading it if it bothers you. i use these pronouns so i wrote that mostly for me 🤘

“Darling, what is that ghastly thing?” Asmodeus asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“What thing?” you frown. The two of you are sitting in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed as you talk about stupid things. Asmodeus had been ranting about something when his eyes locked on something near you with startling focus. 

“This!” he says, pointing at your forearm. 

You follow his gaze, finding a spot of slightly discolored skin halfway down your arm. “Oh,” you say, “It’s just a bruise.” 

“A bruise?” Asmodeus repeats, his nose scrunched in confusion. 

“You know, a bruise,” you repeat. There’s nothing close to comprehension on his face. “...A contusion or whatever?” …Still nothing.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the demon frowns. “And wow, is it unsightly.” Asmodeus remarks, disgust passing over his face before intrigue takes over it. He leans over you, before proceeding to poke at your skin curiously.  

“Ow, Asmo—” you hiss, batting his hand away. You don’t put much strength behind the gesture, but Asmodeus goes along with it anyway and removes his hand.  

“It hurts?” he then blinks owlishly. 

“Yes,” you say, letting your arm fall back to your side.  

Asmodeus shakes his head in disbelief. “Humans are so weird.” 

It’s late at night and you need to refill your glass of water. You’re tiredly walking out to the kitchen when a sudden noise breaks through the silence. 

“Hey.”

You inhale sharply, fear coursing through you until you recognize the familiar voice. “Holy shit, Beel,” you murmur, placing your hand on your chest momentarily and squinting through the darkness. You can only see the general outline of his form. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Beelzebub says. You think he must be frowning now. Again, it’s difficult to tell. “I thought you saw me.”

“Um…” you squint again. “No.” 

“Oops,” he says. You hear a light shuffling sound. “Can you see me now?” he asks. 

You blink again. “Sort of.”

Suddenly he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t suppress a flinch this time, instinctually leaning backwards. 

“Beel, stop that—!” you exclaim, nearly stumbling over yourself. 

He sets you straight with a hand on your shoulder, a frown rising on his face. “You can’t see in the dark, then?” Beelzebub hums.

“No,” you sigh. It’s as if he didn’t believe you—like he had to test it for himself to make sure. 

“Hmph,” Beelzebub frowns again. Or, at least, it sounds like he’s frowning. “That’s inconvenient.”

“I guess,” you concede. 

“What’s wrong with your skin?” Belphegor asks you one morning, when the two of you are relaxing in his room. 

“Hm?” you blink, momentarily distracted from looking down at your D.D.D.

“Your skin,” he restates. “Look,” he demands, pointing down at your forearm. You follow the demon’s gaze, only to find goosebumps scattered across your skin. 

“Oh, those are just goosebumps,” you answer casually. 

“Goose… bumps,” Belphegor repeats, his nose scrunched in evident revulsion. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure why they’re called that, but they show up on your skin if you get too cold.”

“Well, stop being cold,” Belphegor orders, as if you’re inconveniencing him. He probably thinks you are, although it’s entirely out of your control. You hardly have a chance to react before you’re promptly pelted in the face with a sweatshirt. “Here.” 

“Oof,” you say, peeling it off the crown of your head and putting it on. “Thanks, Belphie.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pink rising on the back of his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. “Stupid human. Can’t even keep itself warm.” He huffs. You valiantly ignore the remark. 

“Why are there teeth in the bathroom?” Levi asks as he enters the room. And wow, what a way to make an entrance. Satan and you look over at Levi from where you’d been reading. 

“What?” Satan blinks questioningly, clearly just as confused as you are.

“Teeth,” Levi repeats himself, “in the bathroom.” 

How he expects the same exact remark to make more sense, you have no idea. It takes you a few moments to connect the dots, but you do eventually. “Oh!” you exclaim. “Those are just my retainers.”

“Your retainers,” Satan repeats. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And what do they retain, exactly?” he asks sardonically. You scoff. 

“My teeth,” you respond. “Obviously,” you add, if only to combat his sarcasm. 

“So… what do you do with them?” Levi asks curiously, tilting his head as he looks at you. 

“I wear them every night when I sleep,” you explain. “They’re supposed to prevent my teeth from shifting.”

“Your teeth shift?” Satan exclaims incredulously. “You mean they can move?” 

“Um— yes,” you respond. “Human teeth always move, even after a person has braces.”

“What are braces?” Levi demands. 

“They’re metal brackets that an orthodontist puts on your teeth when they’re crooked. They guide the teeth into a more neat shape.” 

“I’m convinced you just made that up,” Satan says helpfully. 

You roll your eyes. “I had braces. But since my teeth can still move, I have to wear the retainers.”

“For how long?” Levi blinks. 

“The rest of my life.”

Satan whistles. “That sucks.”

You shrug amicably. 

“And I thought normies were weird,” Levi huffs. “But humans are even weirder.”

“Hey, wait: how’d you even see my retainers in the first place?” you realize aloud. “I always keep them in a case… in a drawer.” You wouldn’t just leave them on the counter—that would be pretty unsanitary. 

As if caught in a lie, Levi freezes and quickly bolts away. “Gotta go shower, bye—!” he says, slamming the bathroom door shut with more force than necessary. 

You stare after him in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from your throat. 

“He was just curious,” Satan explains with a shrug. “Not that I blame him. Do your teeth truly keep growing?”

“Not growing, necessarily,” you contemplate. “Babies are born with baby teeth. Then, as you get older, you lose your baby teeth as your adult teeth grow in.”

“That’s similar to demons,” Satan confirms. 

“Our teeth eventually stop growing, but they can shift and move still,” you clarify. 

Satan shakes his head in annoyed disbelief. “Humans are truly an anomaly.”

You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. 

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.

“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” You squint down at your finger and grit your teeth in annoyance. You’re so concentrated that you don’t know Lucifer’s pensive silence or furrowed brows. 

“A….. paper cut,” he restates, a mix of bemusement and concern in his voice. 

“You don’t get those?” you ask. 

“You got hurt by a piece of paper,” Lucifer says incredulously. Suddenly he’s getting to his feet and striding over to you, taking your hand in his and investigating your fingertip. “Hm. You weren’t joking. How strange.”

He continues to study your skin with a frightening intensity. Your hand is almost shaking in his grip, as you attempt to fight off your restlessness at his proximity. Eventually Lucifer sighs and lets his grip fall away. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Paper cuts are just a minor inconvenience… But for whatever reason, they can really hurt sometimes. Feels like your skin is splitting apart.” They really shouldn’t hurt, but they do. One time, you had one that spanned your entire fingertip. This one doesn’t look nearly as bad, fortunately. But it still burns. 

“You’re rather breakable,” the Avatar of Pride notes. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you feel the need to say defensively.

“Of course,” Lucifer responds, an indulgent and amused smile on his face. There’s a knowing smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, abandoning the argument. 

Solomon and you often get stuck accompanying one another to the human realm whenever you need anything. The demon realm is great, but it doesn’t have everything humans need. Besides, sometimes it’s nice to breathe in some fresh air or be among other humans. 

Today’s visit has a purpose, though. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Mammon, you, and a chandelier, you find yourself with broken glasses. (Thanks, Mammon.) It’s been roughly a year since you’ve had an eye exam, so it’s about time for another appointment anyways. Unfortunately, the Devildom doesn’t have eye doctors (and you still remember the perplexed look on Levi’s face when you casually asked him one day). That’s how you find yourself in your ophthalmologist’s office in the human realm. Solomon dropped you off with the promise that he’d return the moment you texted, leaving you to slowly waste away in the waiting room. 

Fortunately, your name is finally called and you’re able to undergo all of the various examinations. You emerge an hour later with dilated pupils, an updated prescription, and reassurance from the doctor that nothing is amiss. You manage to text Solomon—through slightly blurred vision—and he arrives within five minutes. 

You can only hope to slip into the manor unnoticed. But from the very moment you slip through the front doors, Mammon is bounding up to you like an overexcited puppy. He seems moments away from looping an arm around you and dragging you off into some misguided adventure when he locks eyes with you and freezes. 

“Whoa, what the hell—?” Mammon exclaims, staring at you intently. “Oi, human, don’t tell me ya got possessed—!” His hands clamp on your shoulders and he starts shaking you roughly. 

“Mammon, stop it,” you object, grabbing onto his shoulders and attempting to prevent him from shaking you any harder. He calms down a little, but he still looks confused. “I’m not possessed. I just had an appointment with an eye doctor.”

“Well, how’d they screw up so bad then, huh?” he spits. In another situation, his concern would be touching; but now, it’s mostly just amusing. “Ya look like a shark!”

“It’s just one of the tests,” you explain. “They had to dilate my pupils.” 

“Humans are crazy,” Mammon asserts. He’s studying you from far too close��occasionally changing his angle as if it will somehow give him new insight. “You look so freaky.”

“Thanks, Mammon,” you sigh. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. “I bet it does; yer such a baby.” The insult seems to be a cover-up for his concern. 

“It doesn’t really hurt,” you reassure him. “It just feels a little strange. The drops really just affect your vision. I can’t focus on things in front of me, and it sort of looks like I’m seeing double.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it but resting your eyes,” Mammon sighs theatrically, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s watch the next episode of Destroyman. ”

“How is that supposed to help my eyes?” you ask skeptically. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for ya all day!” Mammon exclaims. “We’re watching the next episode, even if it looks all blurry to you.” The demon is soon yanking you along before you can object. 

“There’s the culprit,” Belphegor remarks, looking up at you as you enter the dining room for breakfast. The brothers are staring at you intently. 

“Good morning to you too,” you huff, shoving your hands in the pockets of your uniform and taking the empty seat at the table. It’s a bit unusual to see all seven brothers at the table like this, especially so early in the morning. “What’d I do?” you blink cluelessly. 

“You don’t remember?” Beel pipes up, blinking at you curiously. He seems to be mid-bite, with some food hanging out of his mouth. Lucifer chides him for table manners and Beel huffs, promptly demolishing the rest of his food. 

“You were roaming the halls in the middle of the night like a ghost!” Mammon explains before anyone else can. He sounds particularly energetic this morning. “It was freaky.”

Roaming the halls at night? You don’t remember doing that, which can only mean one thing. “Oh, I was probably just sleepwalking,” you realize aloud. 

“Wonders truly never cease,” Lucifer says dryly. “Just how many eccentricities do humans possess?” he muses. 

You sigh, remembering all of the strange interactions you’ve had over the past few weeks. “I’m not choosing to do any of this, you know,” you frown. “I can’t control it.” It’s not like you wanted to get a paper cut, or a bruise, or goosebumps. These are just facts of life. 

“We know, dear,” Asmo reassures you. 

“It’s okay,” Levi says, barely sparing you a glance as he stares down at his plate. “None of these human behaviors are super annoying.” That’s very meaningful coming from Levi of all demons. 

“They’re just weird,” Satan supplies helpfully. You roll your eyes at him. 

“It seems my brothers were just… worried,” Lucifer explains. 

“Hey, you were worried too!” Mammon objects. “You were the one to—” Whatever the Avatar of Greed means to say next promptly fades into obscurity, as Lucifer sends his younger brother a murderous glare to silence him. 

“Okay,” you eventually remark, uncomfortable with the sudden tension settling in the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you guys, I guess. Sleepwalking is normal for humans, though.” 

“I’m starting to think nothing about humans is normal,” Satan mutters under his breath. Lucifer nods in agreement. You just roll your eyes and pretend not to hear the remark, serving yourself some food and beginning to eat breakfast. Despite the fanfare, it’s nice to know the brothers care about you—even if they don’t show it in very orthodox ways. 

“Oh,” a familiar voice says one afternoon. You blink blearily, your dizzy vision momentarily clarifying to reveal Diavolo standing over you. You’re crumpled on the floor, your cheek pressed to the cold hardwood as sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. “I must say, when I heard of your absence, I assumed you ditched classes for the day.”

It’s difficult for you to process what he’s saying; his voice sounds warped. The headmaster just hums. “Are you… alright?” he asks. You can barely manage a weak nod. Diavolo sighs. “Forgive me for the foolish question. You’re clearly not alright. Here, let’s get you up…” 

You hardly have the chance to object before the demon is lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all. He sets you on your bed with deceptive gentleness, before staring at you and frowning. 

“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening to you,” Diavolo says. 

“I think I’m sick,” you manage to respond. Your voice sounds a little raspy and your airways feel a bit tight. You clear your throat, wincing at the dryness the gesture provokes. You must have a fever, because your body temperature keeps oscillating between frigid cold and searing warmth. Before you can think better of it, you blink dazedly and reach out to grab Diavolo’s hand. “Tell me if I feel warm.”

He’s clearly a bit confused, but he allows you to guide his hand to your temple. 

“You’re hot,” he observes after a moment.

“Thanks,” you huff deliriously.  

“Your temperature,” he clarifies with a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What does this mean?” Diavolo frowns. 

“I have a fever,” you answer. “When a human’s body temperature is too high, it causes sickness.”

“What can be done about it?” he continues. 

“Depends,” you reply. “Sometimes it breaks on its own; sometimes you need antibiotics.” 

“Antibiotics,” Diavolo repeats, the concept clearly foreign to him. “I can’t say I’m familiar. But it’s clear that you should rest. I’ll watch over you.” Whatever else he says is lost on you, as you close your eyes and surrender to the persistent fatigue burning your eyelids. 

You wake several hours later to a room devoid of Diavolo. You’re not exactly surprised that he had to leave—he’s the ruler of the Devildom, after all. He surely has far more important things to do than look after you. You blink away traces of sleep as you look around the room, your vision clarifying to reveal Solomon sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. You blink at him silently. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Solomon says. “How are you feeling?”

“…Fine,” you admit, touching your temple experimentally. Your headache has subsided a little, but your skin still feels a bit warm. At your movement, Solomon pushes himself to his feet and feels your forehead. 

“Your temperature’s coming down, finally,” he hums. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Diavolo summoned me,” Solomon explains. “Supposedly, he attempted to enlist the help of the brothers, but they proved to be rather useless. They are… woefully uninformed when it comes to humans, after all.”

That’s true. “Thanks,” you remember to say. He didn’t have to come, after all. Just because he’s the only other human, doesn’t mean he’s relegated to nursing you back to health. 

“No problem,” Solomon nods sincerely. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the whole arrangement. “It’s nice not to be the only human. Although, I expect around the clock service and care the next time I fall ill.”

You smile tiredly. “Of course,” you agree. It’s a frighteningly easy promise to make. 

After your sickness, you notice that the brothers begin to ease up on you a bit. Mammon’s no longer texting you in the middle of the night, demanding that you entertain him; Lucifer doesn’t mind if you occasionally take a day to complete your work remotely at the mansion; Asmo’s physical affection is gentler than normal; Levi doesn’t tease you about being a normie as much; Beelzebub doesn’t ever touch your plate or food; hell, even Belphegor is behaving himself—no longer interfering with your naps or sleep. 

One afternoon, Lucifer approaches you in the living room. He greets you before settling on the couch next to you, his posture rigid and proper. “You may have noticed that my brothers…” Lucifer starts, before pausing and shaking his head, “...that we have been acting a bit different than normal.” You nod. 

“In the past few weeks—especially in light of your bout of sickness—we realized that we’ve been neglecting you and your health. A demon’s stamina is much stronger than a human’s—we need less sleep; food is more of a luxury than a necessity; our bodies are more resistant to injury… You understand.”

“What I mean to say is…” Lucifer trails off again, an uncharacteristic sign of hesitation from him. He takes a slow breath. “I apologize for the oversight.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“It is not,” Lucifer states firmly. “We have neglected to consider just how difficult this transition must be for you. We—I—didn’t think to ensure your health and safety were priorities.”

“But no more. I’ve spoken to Diavolo and Solomon at length, in addition to doing some elective research, to ensure we are not so unprepared in the future. And, should your accommodations be unsuitable—should anything here be unsuitable—I want you to inform me at once.”

That… sounds a lot more serious than what you were expecting. You blink. “That’s— That’s really not necessary,” you try to say. 

“It wasn’t a request,” Lucifer interjects smoothly. It’s a firm but well-meaning statement. “Do you understand?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “Truthfully, my brothers were very worried for you.” Lucifer pauses for a moment. “I was very worried for you,” he admits.

You’re sure you look surprised now. Lucifer only laughs, before getting to his feet and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You can almost convince yourself that the look in his eyes is unbearably fond. But he’s soon withdrawing, leaving you to wonder if you imagined the entire interaction.

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[skullsfiction]

what happens in vegas, does not stay in vegas | ch. 01

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary: down in the dumps after a big loss, your brother charles decides to stay in instead of going out to party, believing his fellow drivers would keep you from doing anything dumb while out on partying on the vegas strip. that was his first mistake. the next morning his wakes up to the news that you’ve went and gotten yourself married, but who could possible be stupid enough to take advantage of charles leclerc’s baby sister?

warnings: talks about men being creeps. drinking. lando and oscar being proper gentlemen, reader's age is not specified but its mentioned she's in her twenties! reader has everyone wrapped around her finger, oscars antisocial.

word count: 5.1k (my best so far)

authors note: okay soooooo, yes i did already post the first chapter of this series, but i hated it, sorry! so i rewrote it and this was the result, i promise this version is so much better, feedback is also appreciated :) enjoy! i also wrote half this while recovering from wisdom teeth removal, so if there’s any misspelling let’s just blame it on that. reblogs, comments, or feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated!

series masterlist / playlist

next chapter ->

Charles Leclerc was a lame, little, whiny baby, loser. And you would’ve said it to his face…if he wasn’t giving you his card so you can buy drinks and souvenirs all night.

It was the Sunday of the big race in Vegas Nevada, coincidentally the first time you'd been in the States, and like any irresponsible twenty-some-year-old would be, you were more excited about the after-party then the actual race.

"Are you sure you don't want to join?" you shouted towards the hotel bedroom, you had your small setup in the bathroom, you pulled down your dress slightly and adjusted your hair before slowly stepping out of the hotel bathroom.

Charles perked up from his phone, shooting you a small smile, he had placed four in the race, something you found impressive (granted you found anything your big brothers did impressive) while he did not, hence him being a debbie downer and refusing to join you, and his fellow drivers on a night out at the Vegas strip.

"I'm sure, Piccina" Charles sat up, pushing his card towards you on the white bed sheets, "Just be careful?"

You nodded eagerly placing this card carefully into your wallet while smiling at the nickname, Piccina, meaning tiny, it had been your nickname ever since you were little, and him using it gave you the comfort of knowing he wasn't secretly mad at you for ditching him while he was down in the dumps.

"Who's going again?" Charles chimed from behind you as you adjusted yourself in the mirror.

You hummed, thinking, "I know Lando for sure."

Charles snorted, muttering, "That wasn't a question."

"I think Oscar, Carlos..." you paused, hoping you didn't hit a nerve, but he simply nodded, "Max might show up...Franco's a yes, Lance, Fernando, and maybe Pierre?" you turned to him with a smile.

Charles shook his head slightly, "Pierre's staying back with me."

You shot him a funny look, "Date night?"

Charles's laughter rang out in the room, he pulled a pillow from behind him and shot it at you, "You're not funny!"

You stood up, throwing the pillow back at him, "You sure are laughing!"

Two stood around for a few more minutes, with Charles refusing to let you leave out alone, insisting you waited for Lando to pick you up. You groaned, "He's taking forever!"

"I don't care!" he matched your tone, "Its dangerous, you could get mobbed or something."

"And having Lando is going to help that, how?" you rose a brow, and his awkward silence made you smirk in triumph.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, "He won't help with the fans, but he’ll help if some creep tries touching you."

You couldn't argue with that.

Just as you were going to try and argue your way out of the door, again, a small knock rang throughout the room.

You beamed, skipping over to the door, as you opened the door, Lando snapped his head up, a whistle leaving his lips, "Looking good, Leclerc!" he cheered as stepped into the room slightly. You smiled as you gave him a slight spin.

"Thanks Lando," Charles joked, you slapped his arm slightly, rolling your eyes, "You know he was talking about me."

Charles rolled his eyes as he and Lando 'bro-hugged' while you went around the room making sure you had everything you needed.

'"Okay, I'm ready!" you cheered, walking over to the two men. Charles nodded, looking you over once more, Lando made his way out the door.

"You got everything?" Charles checked, you nodded brightly, leaning over to give him a hug, "Phone? Charger? Bandaids? Condom?—“

"Charles!" you shrieked, feeling your body heat up as you heard Lando's faint giggle.

Charles held his hands up in defense, "I don't like talking about it either, but I rather you be safe."

You groaned, taking small steps towards the door, "Yes, Charles I have everything."

Charles smiled, holding the door open for you and you stepped out and stood by Lando, "Good. And remember if you need anything, call me."

"Sir yes, sir!" you saluted jokingly.

Charles turned to Lando, "Keep her safe, alright?"

"Sir yes, sir!" Lando mocked you, Charles rolled his eyes as you and Lando burst into laughter.

"Very funny.." was the last thing he muttered before shutting the door in your face.

☾

You and Lando walked side by side in the busy streets of Las Vegas, your eyes shone brightly as you took in the new scenery. When you were younger you didn't necessarily get to travel much because all the extra money went to karting and competitions.

You never complained, even when you had to give up your own dream of being a Formula One driver so Charles could have his chance. He was a great talent, everyone in the family recognized that, and you eventually got over your silly dream.

Since that day when you were ripped apart from your passion, Charles promised he would grant every wish you ever wanted. ‘We’ll go the States and eat everything!—And I’ll buy you everything because I’ll have money from Ferrari!’ he said as he wiped your tears from your puffy cheeks. You knew he only said that because he felt it was his fault you didn’t get to live out your dream. And although you would never admit it to anyone, because it made you feel like a horrible sister, sometimes you did resent the decision made by your family— you had talent too. Why was Charles the only one who got the chance to be great?

"Never been to Vegas?" Lando's voice cut through the silence, he was carrying bags and bags of all types of items, clothes, souvenirs, jewelry, you name it. You had really gone crazy. Since you had about an hour to waste until you were all supposed to meet up, you decided to get all your shopping done early.

You had wanted to hold the bags, but Lando instead he do it, saying it was the 'gentlemen' thing to do.

"No." you breathed out with a smile, "I don't get all the hate this place gets, it's beautiful."

Lando snorted, "I've never heard that said about Vegas before."

"People aren't as deep and sentimental as me Lando, you should know that by now," you wiped a fake tear from your eye and Lando burst into laughter.

You smiled, eyeing the bags in his hands once again, "Are you sure we shouldn't take this stuff back to the hotel?"

Lando nodded, pulling the bags closer to him, "We have a private area in the club, we can put them there."

You 'oohed', "Private area huh?"

"Only the best for Ms. Leclerc," he smirked.

"Oh please," you laughed, "You just don't want anyone to record you getting wasted."

"Okay, maybe that too."

You shook your head as you and Lando crossed the street, you caught a glimpse at the club down the strip, "So who's officially going?"

"I know Oscars going."

"Because you bribed him?"

"Yes."

You and Lando both giggled, swerving in between people, "Carlos is going..." Lando eyes you carefully.

You held your hand up, "What happens with Charles and Carlos on track is none of my business...plus they're like a bipolar couple, they'll be back to charlos in no time."

Lando thought for a second before nodding, "That's why carlando is better."

You shook your head with a smile and Lando continued, "George is going, so is Alonso, Max, Franco, Yuki, and Lance."

"No Alex?" you questioned.

Lando shook his head, "He said he's taking Lily on a 'supes romantic vegas date."

You awed, before frowning, "I need a boyfriend."

Lando smirked, turning to you, "You know I have the perfect guy—“

"Lando!" you heard a familiar accent shout near you. Both you and Lando snapped your head up to see Carlos waving widely at you two, while the others pretended not to know him.

"Carlos!" Lando shouted, lifting his arms up, the multitude of bags almost smacking you in the face.

You would think they hadn't seen each other in years with the way they embraced each other, you could only watch in amusement before you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

Turning around you came face to face with Oscar Piastri, he just got cuter each day, "Hi." he mumbled as he pulled you into a soft hug. "I didn't see you today, and I didn’t want you thinking I was being rude or avoiding you.”

"You? Rude? Never," you mumbled with a smile and he patted your back softly, "I didn't think you would make it.." you pulled back and he shot you a questioning look, "I don't mean to offend but this doesn't seem like your type of place."

Oscar smiled, and you two started to make your way into the booming club, with Oscar's hand resting on your back, you made sure to greet everyone with a smile.

"It's not!" he yelled so you could hear him, while also making sure he wasn't too close to your ear. "Lando bribed me!"

You nodded, laughing, "Yeah he told me! How much did he give you?"

Oscar's face burned red—not that you could see it—"It wasn't really a..money bribe!"

You turned to him confused, but before you could ask him to clarify, you were both halted when Lando seemingly appeared out of nowhere, making you both pause.

Lando already seemed off his rocker, eyes moving side to side widely, "I'm going to get drinks!" he yelled, shoving all of your bags into Oscar's arms, who took them in surprise, "Our area is over there—" both you and Oscar turned to where he was pointing simultaneously, "Have fun okay?" he shot you two a big thumbs up before getting lost in the crowd.

You and Oscar both stood still for a moment before you slowly turned to each other, "How is he already drunk?" you asked, trying to take the bags from Oscar's hands, but he simply swerved around you, nodding up to where Lando pointed previously.

"I can take those, you know?" You yelled over to Oscar as you started climbing the stairs up to the top portion of the club, you could hear the big change in volume as you got higher.

Oscar gave you a funny look, "What type of man would I be if I let you carry these heavy bags?"

You didn't have an answer. It was a big culture shock when you realized men weren't exactly like your brothers, your brothers always treated you like gold. But once you went out to the real world, you were quick to realize that was not the norm.

Oscar took a slight peak into the bag, "What exactly did you buy?"

"Lots of things with my name on it," you laughed, taking a seat on the sofa next to the big group of drivers, who all acknowledged your existence with a smile. You watched as Oscar followed in your steps, taking a seat next to you, his knee touching yours.

"Examples?"

"You name it... license plate, shirts, bracelets, necklace."

"A true Vegas staple." Oscar nodded in approval, turning his whole body toward you.

You beamed, turning toward him as well, eager to keep to conversation going, "So...how do you feel about the race?"

Oscar laughed slightly, taking a peek behind you, "Probably a lot better than your brother."

You nodded with a pursed smile, "Probably,"

"Is that why's he's not here?"

You shrugged slightly, "Maybe. He said he just wasn't feeling it, but who knows?"

"Do you think they'll stay mad at each other for long?" Oscar's voice was now a quiet whisper, clearly trying to avoid attention.

You shook your head, "We have a flight back home tomorrow night, they'll be fine by then." you know that because you had told Charles that if they didn't fix their problem before said flight, you wouldn't be going home with them, you could not deal with that awkwardness. And Charles would do anything for you, so of course he and Carlos were going to make up.

Oscar perked up, smiling at you, "I'm going home on that flight too."

Your face lit up, "You live in Monaco now right?"

Oscar nodded bashfully, he had made the move early that year, during the ‘Leclerc-Piastri adopted son’ situation. He was very quiet about it, so he didn’t expect you to know about it—or frankly, care. “Y-yeah, I thought it would be better with all the traveling.”

“And the tax-evading.”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, no doubt catching the attention of others scattered around the room, you watched him cackle with a smile. “How are you liking it?” you asked.

Oscar sobered down slightly, a grin still present, “It’s not home…but it’s….Monaco.”

You threw your head back with a smile, “It’s better when you get past all the cars and celebrities.”

Oscar nodded, “One of my first days I went hiking," you remember seeing the picture he posted, all sweaty, your eyes widened at the memory, and you shifted flustered "It was nice."

"I can show you some better places if you'd like?

"Really?" Oscar's eyes were wide, full of excitement.

You nodded proudly, "Of course, I've given everyone here a tour of the city, I'm a great guide if I do say so myself."

The lights in Oscar's eyes diminished slightly, for a second, there, he thought he was special, he coughed awkwardly, "Oh yeah?"

You eyed the group behind you, "Since everyone here apparently loves tax evading, I've taken it upon myself to teach them about my home."

Oscar giggled slightly and you contained, raising your brow, "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around, I see George at least three times a week."

Oscar flushed, and this time he was sure you could tell, "Oh I..." he sucked his teeth, "I.. don't really leave my house."

You started at him with squinted eyes for a moment, "...Because of the fans?"

"No...no."

"Because you don't have a car?" you asked, recalling the photo of him riding a bike around the city months ago, you would've thought he would've bought a car since then, or at least borrowed one.

"I have a car."

You laughed in confusion, "Okay then why?"

Oscar shrugged, playing with the ends of his sweater, "I just don't really like to go out."

"Like ever?"

"I go to... grocery stores."

"Oh, Oscar..." you sighed, and the man jumped to defend himself.

"I play sim a lot!...and that's like talking to people?..."

You winced, "Is it though?"

Oscar sighed, looking down at his lap, "...No..."

You pursed your lips, patting his knew softly, "Its okay Oscar...I'll make sure you go out more."

Before he could respond, Lando's loud cheers emerged from the staircase, and Oscar felt your attention slip away from him.

"I'm back, and I bring drinks!" Lando shouted as he hurried over to the group, a tray filled with drinks in his hands. The others cheered. The drink was purple, and it seemed to be fizzling as everyone took one.

"What is this?" Lance blinked up at Lando, who shrugged, Fernando took a small sniff before pulling back in shock; the others looked at him in worry, as he coughed, waving everyone off.

"I have no idea!" Lando yelled, and the other slowly started to put the drink down, "The bartender just told me it would make us forget who won the race tonight!"

Just like that, everyone had picked their glasses back up and quickly swallowed down the drink. Georges's face went black as he rolled his eyes, taking a small sip of his drink, "Assholes.." he whispered.

☾

"You have really pretty eyes..." Oscar slurred as he watched you lay down on the couch, he sat on the floor, legs crossed over each other as he stared into your face.

You hummed, "People say me and Charles have the same eyes..."

Oscar blinked, "Charles has pretty eyes..."

There was no one left awake in the 'private' area, the men were either down on the dance floor, or asleep on the ground, such as Lance, Franco, and Yuki.

The drink had no effect at first, so everyone felt confident drinking another....and another...and another, and before anyone knew it, everyone was far gone, way far gone.

You giggled, bringing a drunken smile onto Oscar's face. You continued to giggle before your face turned serious.

You turned to Oscar with a glare, Oscar visibly jumped, "Do you have a girlfriend, Oscar?"

Gaping in shock, Oscar shook his head like crazy.

Your glare hardened, "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"I don't have a girlfriend." Oscar replied instantly.

You stared for a couple more moments before a bright grin took over your face, "Thank god!" you giggled before turning serious once more, "It seems like everyone is dating someone, and it makes me feel lonely." You quickly (with a small struggle) sat up from the couch, grabbing Oscar's hand.

“At least you don't have a girlfriend.” 

Oscar, the most out of it he's ever been, swayed side to side, “I want to be your girlfriend.” he mumbled, pressing a soft, delicate kiss to your hand. 

You giggled, throwing your head back, “Not girlfriend! Boyfriend silly…and I don't think whiny baby Charles would like that…” 

Oscar sat up straight, “I don't care what Charles thinks,” he did, he really, really, did. “He shouldn't control your life.” In any other situation, Oscar would never say anything like this, in fact, one of the primary reasons he never man up and asked you out (other than the fact that he was sure you did not like him that way) was because he wasn't sure Charles would approve. And if he didn’t have Charles’ approval, then what was the point in even trying? 

“He just thinks he knows best,” you mumbled through a frown. “He doesn't control me…does he?” 

Oscar slipped his hands away from you, moving his arms widely “No! No…I’m dumb, Charles would never control you..”

But it seemed like you weren’t listening anymore, your eyes dazed, “If Charles does control me, then I should do something to get him back..” you turned to Oscar with a glare, he knew you well, you were thinking of ways to get back at Charles..for something he didn’t even do. “For being evil…” 

Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “Charles isn't evil!” You joined him in the laughter. Before your face went blank, “What were we talking about?” 

Oscar decided not to indulge in your evil sibling rivalry plans, “You were telling me how you wanted a boyfriend.” 

You gaped, pointing at Oscar, “You're right! You know Oscar…you would be the perfect boyfriend!” 

Oscar's cheeks went pink, “I would?” he mumbled bashfully. 

You nodded proudly, “Mhm..you are very respectful..you've never stared at my ass, unlike some of the drivers..” Oscar’s mouth opened in shock with a million questions running through his mind, but you didn’t give him time to react, “And you're funny, not like joke funny,” Oscar tried to not let an offended expression take over his face, “But like expression funny. And I’m sure you’d give the best kisses…and! You look like you’d never forget an anniversary.” 

Not to toot his own horn, but you're right, Oscar had a great memory, and if it was your anniversary, he would never forget it. 

You’re face lights, “I have the best idea!” you squealed, standing up and pulling Oscar up with you, you both stumbled. You pulled on his jacket, bringing you face to face, “We should get married!” 

The grin on Oscar’s face was electric, “Yes!” he shouted, accidentally waking up Yuki, who shot up from the cuddle pile on the ground with wide eyes, you two were too focused on your own bubble to notice him.

You gasped, gripping onto Oscar tighter, “Really? You’ll marry me?” 

Oscar gripped onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth tightly, “Of course I would! I’m not stupid!” 

“Oh I have to tell Charles! He can’t miss my wedding!” 

Oscar nodded, watching with a beaming smile as you pulled out your phone, opening it up before you slowly put it down with a frown. 

“I can’t tell Charles.” your eyes unintentionally watered, “He won’t let me.” You slowly sat down on the small couch. 

Oscar slowly sat next to you, trying to hide his dimmed energy, “Don’t worry about..” he mumbled, “I can wait.” I’ve already waited six years, he thought, what’s a couple more? 

“But you shouldn’t have to wait!’ You groaned, quickly standing up, “We’re getting married tonight!” You stomped your foot, “I’ll just take lots of pictures so Charlie doesn’t miss it!” 

Oscar’s light returned, he accepted the hand you held out for him, “Let’s go get married, Oscar!’ you cheered, leading him down the club stairs.

Yucki watched you two leave, his face full of confusion, he groaned, laying back onto the ground while rubbing his eyes, “Married? Charles is going to kill him.” 

​☾

“I still can’t believe you let the little princess go out without you,” Pierre mumbled through his bites of popcorn. 

Charles rolled his eyes, grabbing another handful of the cornels, “She doesn’t have to be with me all the time, she’s growing up and wants to go out alone.” 

“Okay…but with Lando?” 

“Lando wouldn’t dare touch her. He knows I would throw him into the barriers.” 

Pierre and Charles were lying in bed, a popcorn bucket lay in the middle of them, while a french romance movie played in the background. 

Pierre nodded after a pause “You know who I’m worried about?” 

Charles leaned over to look at the man, “Who?”

“That Australian creep.” 

Charles furrowed his brow,”...Daniel?’

Pierre shot him a look, “No, not Daniel. Oscar.” 

Charles shot up with a choked laugh, “O-oscar?” he threw his head back with a loud laugh, “O-oscar?” 

Pierre watched him with an unamused face, waiting for him to sober, which took longer than you would think. 

“Oscar?” Charles shook his head with a smile as he laid back down, “No..Oscar…” he giggled, “No.” 

Pierre scoffed, “You underestimate him..I’ve seen it,” Pierre’s eyes unfocused, “He is always staring.” 

Charles shrugged, throwing up a kurnell before catching it in his mouth, “Piccina is pretty…people always stare.” 

Pierra shook his head sharply, “No…Oscar stares like he is trying to read her mind or something.. I’m telling you Charles, he is creepy.” 

Charles waved him off, “Trust me. Oscar is the last person who would do something to piccina.” 

​☾

“I still think this is a bad idea..” Lando slurred as he took off his shirt lazily. 

Max nodded in agreement, pulling up his suit pants, “Mhmm..” his head rolled back as he giggled, “Charles is going to blow up,” he made a boom sound.  

“At least Oscar finally grew his balls and asked her out...” Lando giggled, looking over to where you and Oscar stood near the chapel. Oscar was adjusting your veil while you played with his tie. 

“Does it count if they're both drunk?” Max asked. 

Lando thought for a moment, “Maybe..” 

After dragging Oscar down to the dance floor, you two found Max and Lando, who you both let know of your plans to get married. You only needed one of them (to be a witness) so you could legally get married. But they both insisted on joining you. 

You and Oscar were going all out (as out as you could be with a notice of maybe forty minutes) and that included a dress, veil, and suits for Oscar and the groomsmen (Max and Lando)

“You look gorgeous..” Oscar sighed, gazing down into your eyes. 

“You look good too,” You giggled, tightening and untightening his tie. Maybe it was the nerves of doing something so taboo, but you needed something to fidget with. 

“Are you sure about this?” Oscar asked, looking behind as the Elvis priest started to set up his whole thing. 

“Yeah..” you sighed. In another situation you would’ve never even brought up the conversation of you being lonely, much less getting married in a Vegas chapel, but you were completely out of it, and to be fair, so was Oscar, Max, and Lando. 

Speaking of which, the two groomsmen made their way over to you, and patted Oscar on the shoulder, “It’s time.” Lando sang slightly, pushing Oscar to stand on the side of the Elvis priest. Lando followed after him. 

Max grinned down at you, giving you, “You ready?” he giggled. 

You beamed, wrapping your arm around him as ‘here comes the bride’ started playing softly.”Sure am!” 

​☾

There was something so scary about waking up in a room you didn't recognize.

The light was blinding, and it just made your hangover headache ten times worse. You groaned, squinting as you slowly sat up from the unrecognizable bed.

Panicked, you looked around the room–it was trashed, with bottles of wine, and bed sheets scattered everywhere. In terror you looked down at yourself, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your clothes still on your body. It was not your clothes, fitting at least five times too big, but still, you took that as a good sign.

Slowly you inched off the bed, and there you noticed there was someone else in the bed, face down, with his arms sprawled out. It was a man. You panicked for a moment, he couldn't be dead, could he? 

Carefully, you walked around the bed and squatted to take a look at who it was, the sight made your stomach churn, "Oscar?" you whispered to yourself.

What were you doing in Oscar Piastri's room of all places?

Omg, had he kidnapped you? You laughed to yourself. No, it was more likely that you kidnapped him.

Shaking your head, you decided to leave, the horror it would be if anyone caught you leaving Oscar’s room, the media would go crazy, you’d have to figure this all out later. You stared at him for a small second before making your way to the room, accidentally crushing a piece of paper that lay on the ground.

You winced, turning to make sure the sound did not wake Oscar up, it didn't. With a sigh of relief, you tiptoed out of the room, missing the wedding dress that was neatly hung on the door. 

As you stumbled through the hotel hallway, you felt all kinds of dirty. Yes, you still had clothes on, but that did not necessarily mean you two didn't do anything. Yikes. You just prayed that Charles hadn't heard anything about this.

It was in this moment that you thanked Carlos Sainz, their small fight was the reason Charles didn’t go out. It was more than likely he didnt see anything.

Taking your hotel room key out of your bra (safe keeping), you turned the corner of the hotel, gasping in horror at who you saw pacing up and down your room door. Your brother, Charles.

His head snapped up at the sound of the gasp, his eyes red and swollen. He did not waste any time running over to you, his pupils were wild as he scanned you up and down multiple times, he was rambling in French, making your head spin by the sheer volume of his voice.

You shushed him, squinting, "Charles.. calm down please."

He pulled you in a tight hug, "Calm down? How can I calm down! You disappeared and didn’t answer your phone, and I have to find out through Instagram that you got married!" Pause. 

You pulled back from the hug, feeling the room spin, "What?" you whispered, although he didnt seem to hear you.

"And listen mon cœur, if you love him then it's okay. We're not mad—just, why didn't you tell us?" He looked down at you with a frown.

You shook your head violently, holding up a finger,

"No no, Charles, what are you talking about?" His sadness quickly turned to confusion, "You got married?"

Your eyes went comically wide, "What!?" you yelled, not caring about your volume.

Charles took a step back, "You disappeared all night and Max posted to social media pictures of your wedding being married. You.. don't remember?"

"No Charles I don't fucking remember!" you shouted in horror, patting yourself down for your phone, just your luck, it wasn't on you.

 "Oh my god.." you groaned, shutting your eyes."What's wrong? You don't remember getting married to your secret boyfriend?"

You looked up at your brother blankly, "Charles, I don't have a secret boyfriend."

Charles tilted his head, slowly speaking, "...Then who did you marry?"

You chose not to answer, letting him piece the puzzle together himself. 

"You got married to a stranger? What is wrong with you?”

"I was drunk!" you threw your arms up in defense.

"Oh, you were drunk!" Charles asked ironically, "I get drunk all the time and I don't get married to random strangers!"

"You act like I wanted this to happen!" You two bickered, not noticing the awkward Australian slowly making his way towards you two.

"Well, you don't seem as freaked out as you should be!" Charles shouted.

"I'm still processing this!" you whined, stomping your feet, just then you two heard a cough. You swiveled around only to come face to face with Oscar, his pale cheeks lit with fire, "Oscar," you smiled, nudging Charles.

Charles looked up at Oscar in confusion, giving him an unsure smile.

"Sorry to interrupt," Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, before presenting two items, your phone, and a piece of slightly crumbled paper, 

You gasped, taking the phone with a smile, but before you could thank him, Charles spoke up,

"Why do you have her phone?" his voice was low, and no amusement was present.

You looked at Oscar with wide eyes, shaking your head slightly, Charles could not find out that you two had spent the night together, no way he would take that well.

With all the ruckus, you yourself hadn’t managed to piece the biggest puzzle together. Maybe if you were in a better headspace and realized that it was Oscar who you had drunkenly married, you would have stopped Oscar from even being near Charles. 

Oscar swallowed thickly, blinking, before he could even mutter a word, the paper in his hands was ripped away. The panic was clear on his face, as he tried to reach for it, but to no avail.

You watched in confusion as Oscar clearly started to panic, you glanced back at your brother who was staring down at the piece of paper with never seen before anger.

"What is it?" you mumbled, looking down at his hands, it was a certificate, you slowly read it, dreadfulness morphing quickly.

This document certifies OSCAR JACK PIASTRI & Y/N LECLERC, were united in marriage in the LITTLE LAS VEGAS WEDDING CHAPEL.

Oh shit.

Charles glanced between you and Oscar, whose mouth was pressed tightly.

"You took advantage of my sister?" Charles whispered, and Oscar's eyes widened along with yours.

"No, Charles–" you tried, but Charles had already crumpled the marriage certificate and thrown it to the side.

"You took advantage of my sister?!" Charles yelled, and the next thing you knew, Charles was on top of Oscar, his fist landing on his beautiful face. 

taglist: @stopeatread @freyathehuntress @morganalatina21 @sltwins @nichmeddar @landossainz @f1daydreamer @no-144444 @delululeclerc @weekendlusting @rifran @lunamelona @awritingtree @shimmermotorsport @sp1rl @teamnovalak @piastri-fvx @bowielovesyou @mastermindbaby @widow-cevans @anotherapollokid @nxlx96 @koibleufish @bokutos-babyowl @charlesgirl16 @mayusaatma @isotopemylove @sadiemack9 @nataliambc @bravo-delta-eccho @theseerbetweenus @woozarts @theblueblub @armystay89 @suns3treading @thisbitxhs-blog

[remxedmoon]

(You don’t know how much longer you can do this.)

hi the wip for this was absolutely not supposed to blow up. why does that have 1k notes. horrifying. anyways!!!! it’s update time baby!!!! 64 new assets this time around!

so that’s what the caption was supposed to be. this update was already pretty damn big and took a ton of time to make!!! and i was finally done!! but then my hand slipped and now we’re at 143 new assets. super sorry for the delay! That Was Not Supposed To Happen.

i’ll go more indepth below the cut, but this update encompasses all menu/profile art for both isat and sasasaap, battle portraits for sasasaap, every single pixel icon in isat (to my knowledge anyways), the dialogue skipping animations, and a few miscellaneous additions.

also i spent too much time on these to put them below the cut so Please God Look At My Icon Resprites I Spent 16 Hours On Them. enjoy!

okay first things first. why the hell is this batch 143 assets. so. i HEAVILY underestimated how many times the menu drawings are used in the games. even removing all of the custom art, it’s still ≈30-40 variations! that’s a lot! and once i finally finished everything, i got Posting Anxiety and somehow convinced myself that attempting Animation And Pixel Art (two things i haven’t done in YEARS) would be easier than writing a normal post. so here we are.

the custom art here is pretty much par for the course at this point. extra menu art for bonnie, extra expressions for the party in act 5, we’ve done this enough times that it’s expected. i am aware that bonnie’s custom menu art gets completely covered by the ui. i kept it in because it’s really funny (and also i didn’t feel like extending the sprite (but then the sasasaap version forced me to extend the sprite anyways so Whartever)).

once again, provided a spritesheet for sasasaap’s battle portraits! i do intend to cover both games, it’s just a slightly lower priority atm. unlike isat though, i’ve got Less (read “No”) experience with sasasaap, so there might be more issues with those assets?? apologies if there are, i’ll try to fix any issues that come up!

the Miscellaneous Additions i mentioned above are the sprites used on the teleport map and the loading screen, which is just a tiny version of the skipping animation. they were pretty small, so i figured i might as well get them out of the way!

not actually much to say about the 75 icons surprisingly! i haven’t done pixel art in about 5 years?? and that’s a Travesty actually these were super fun to make. i did make mockups for the overworld sprites earlier, but they aren’t Officially part of the redraws (yet) so they’re getting posted seperately

and also!! some exciting news!! this project might actually become a Proper Published Mod pretty soon!! i’ve been in contact with someone who’s willing to help me get everything set up, and i’ll be getting a Usable Computer around the end of the year!!!! it’ll still be at least a month before it’s up (i’d like to get the enemy art finished beforehand wauaua) but!!! still exciting!

okay, i think that’s everything relevant to the update!! i Definitely can’t fit all of the relevant assets here lol. but i’ll try my best ! please enjoy !!

[bloomzone]

📍. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟏 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

[Hi everyone, so today's blog may look a little interesting because we are in the last days of April so it's reset time . So i've been a little disconnected lately, it's exam season, and honestly it’s been a lot . Also, sorry for anyone who's been sending me questions in my inbox I might not answer everyone right away, but I promise I’ll be more active after finals and my regional exam , and actually for anyone out there who’s thinking about building a habit or tracking something next month... this is your sign ⏲️.]

ॱ🪽 ₊ . why a 7-day challenge works

"Change doesn’t happen because we suddenly decide to become someone else overnight" It happens when we choose to become slightly better versions of ourselves so for one week you will be asked to show up for yourself because all lasting change begins with a decision to start, no matter how small or imperfect that beginning may seem.

For me personally, the 7-day method has been the most effective way to rebuild habits, especially during the moments when life feels heavy when I’m stuck in a slump, caught in a rut, or feeling disconnected from myself. I have built and rebuilt many habits through this method, and I’m not here to pretend that I follow all my habits perfectly every day. That’s simply impossible. Life is unpredictable bro 💀 and being human means accepting that sometimes we will fall off track. But I’ve found that committing to a 1-week challenge creates just enough structure without feeling overwhelming. Whether it’s studying after a long period of burnout, taking care of my skin , exercising, or simply keeping my space clean, the same principle applies. I give myself one week of small, consistent effort. By the end of those seven days, something inside me shifts naturally. The habit begins to carry itself it becomes part of my daily rhythm again. This approach it’s about reconnecting with the parts of yourself that want to grow. !

so let's get into it !

ᵕ⁠⑅ 💌 .building a habit is like planting a tree

When you approach building a habit, imagine that you are planting a tree. In the beginning, the seed is fragile and invisible to the world. No one applauds you for watering it. No one even knows it’s there but you do ofc . Each action you take is a way of pressing that seed deeper into the soil, helping it find its first roots. A tree It grows because every day it reaches for the light, it anchors itself to the earth, and it trusts the slow work of time. Your habit is like a tree so it will not reveal its strength immediately. It will be built through consistency, patience, and hard work . The stronger the roots you lay in the beginning, the higher you will grow later.

🪄 ♡⁠˖ Preparing before u start

Before you start the challenge, it is important to create the right conditions for success. First choose your habit carefully. Do not pick something because it sounds impressive or because it feels like what you "should" do. Choose something you genuinely want to nurture something that will add peace, energy, or meaning to your life. Next, make the habit as specific and realistic as possible. If your habit is "read more," define it: "Read 10 pages before bed." If it’s "move more," define it too like : "Stretch for 20 minutes after waking up." Specificity turns intentions into actions. Finally, prepare your environment. Remove distractions if you can, and set yourself reminders that pull you gently back to your commitment. Success is easier when you remove as many barriers as possible before you begin.

👛 ꪆ୧ How to stay connected to your habit

As you practice the habit each day, it’s crucial to understand what you are really building. You are not just completing a task. You are shaping ur identity. Every time you follow through, even if it’s only for a few minutes, you are reinforcing the belief that you are someone who keeps their promises to themselves. At first, the actions will feel mechanical. You will not see immediate results, and it may feel pointless. This is natural NATURAL PLEASE READ IT AGAIN . Habits develop strength under the surface long before they show themselves outwardly as I said is like planting a tree . Trust the process. Know that the first few days are about teaching your mind to accept a new way of being, even if the change is invisible at first. When you focus not on achieving perfection but on maintaining connection to your action, you create a system that can survive setbacks, challenges, and the inevitable moments of doubt.

✧🕧 ~ A helpful hack to never forget ur habit

One tip that personally changed everything for me especially when my mind felt busy or overwhelmed is setting up reminders in a very intentional way. It’s simple .. If you are someone who naturally checks your phone first thing in the morning (which most of us do without even thinking about it), use it to your advantage. The night before, right before you go to sleep, open your Notes app, Notion, or even just the simplest app you have for writing and write down the habits you want to keep track of the next day. You could write something like, “Skincare routine,” “Study for one hour,” or “Stretch/workout for 30 minutes ) and add some affirmation if u want and write some words that will motivate u to get up and do it because 100% ur own words can fix u also then, leave that note open and lock your phone screen on it. The next morning, when you reach for your phone instinctively, the first thing you’ll see is your gentle reminder. It’s like that screen will be guiding you back to yourself before u will forgetting

And if you’re someone who doesn’t look at your phone first thing in the morning, you can use a simple journal instead. Keep a small notebook or journal right on your nightstand, your desk, or wherever your eyes naturally land when you wake up. Before sleeping, write your habits or intentions for the next day on the first page you will see when you open it. This way, whether you are a phone-checker or a journal-lover, you are creating a natural path for your brain to reconnect with your goals that would be like a reminder waiting for you every morning.

੭ 🗒️ ۪ ⊹ it’s okay to fall

Please don’t let people on the internet make you feel bad if you slip during this challenge or while building any habit. If you don’t feel okay one day, that’s normal please don’t be sad. NOBODY like nobody is watching you, nobody cares, just come back the next day and start counting your seven days again. This is so normal. I swear to God, it’s NORMAL . I don’t know why people make it seem like if you fall off for a day or two or even weeks , you’ve ruined everything. Like if you missed two days of exercise, or didn’t study, or didn’t do your skincare, suddenly you’re not worthy anymore, or you’re not going to be like the person you see online. That’s not true. Please don’t compare yourself to anyone you see on the internet. Even the people who post their perfect routines they mess up too. Some show it, but most of them don’t. You’re only seeing a small part of their story.

So please, never feel bad for slipping. If you fall off track, just come back the next day. It’s completely human. Bro, you’re human. Nobody’s judging you. If you feel ready the next day, go back to your habits. If you don’t feel ready, that’s okay too. Just don’t stay stuck in burnout forever. Don’t think, “I’ll rest until the burnout ends,” because usually, if you wait too long, the burnout only gets heavier (by experience) . If you feel like you’ve been stuck for days, it’s okay but please, get up gently. Go take a shower. Clean your space a little. Go outside for a walk. Then slowly come back to your habits, your intentions, your small actions the ones that make you feel like yourself again. Your body, your mind, your energy they will start to come back, even if it’s little by little ! trust yourself alwaays 🍀

@bloomzone

[universefcb]

A BIRTHDAY WITH LANDO, LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: It's your birthday and he has a surprise plan for you.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: This picture of him is so...🫦

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Waking up on your birthday used to be a common occurrence. A notification or two on social media, a call from your mother, maybe a quick message from a distant friend. But that day started differently. Even before the first rays of sunlight had penetrated the bedroom curtains, your phone vibrated with an unusual notification: a calendar reminder created by someone else.

Today: The most important birthday in the universe. Get ready for the best day of your life. Love, Lando.

She smiled to herself, still half asleep. She didn't even have time to reply to the message because, in the next second, the doorbell rang.

Dragging herself to the door with one of his hoodies slung over her shoulders, she slowly opened it. On the other side, Lando was smiling, hair messy, a kraft paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Happy birthday, my favorite person,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up here before seven in the morning. “Coffee from your favorite coffee shop and chocolate croissants. I’m outdoing myself, huh?”

She let out a low laugh and pulled him inside by the hand.

“Did you hack my calendar?”

“I broke in. I really hacked. And this is just the beginning.”

They spent the morning together, taking lazy bites of breakfast and making out softly on the couch. He insisted that she couldn’t make plans for the rest of the day—“You just have to trust me,” he’d say with a mischievous smile. And she did.

Around 10am, Lando handed her a small backpack and told her to wear something comfortable.

“Not a spoiler?” she asked, curious.

“Not one. But I guarantee there’s sunshine, blue skies and something you’ll remember forever.”

The car took them out of town. Along the way, he put on her favorite playlist, sang off-key on purpose, and made up absurd versions of the lyrics just to make her laugh.

Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of a large field full of sunflowers, with a picnic table set up in the center. A wicker basket, two light-colored wooden chairs, and a small radio playing Taylor Swift's Lover in the background. She put her hand to her mouth in excitement.

"Like you...?"

“I listen when you talk, you know?” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. “You once said that you always dreamed of a picnic in a field of sunflowers, but never had the chance.”

With tears in her eyes, she threw herself into his arms. Lando held on tightly, as if he knew that gesture was worth more than any words.

They spent hours there, laughing, eating strawberries and cheese, telling stories and taking pictures with an analog camera he had hidden. Every detail seemed carefully planned: the smell of the flowers, the taste of the food, even the position of the sun when he suggested they take a break to lie down on the grass.

“Do you want to know my real gift?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the sky. “Because what you’ve seen so far has just been the warm-up.”

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is there more?”

“Yes. But you need to trust me again.”

The way back was quicker. He led her blindfolded to the top floor of his own apartment. When he removed the blindfold, she found herself in a transformed room: soft lights, dozens of photos of them hanging with little clothespins, white rose petals scattered on the floor, and a dining table set for two.

But what caught his attention was the small screen at the back of the room. Lando had set up a mini movie theater at home.

“And now... the special session: Our best moments.”

It was a compilation of videos he had filmed himself over the months—some she hadn’t even known he had recorded. Little moments, smiles exchanged in silence, her dancing in her pajamas in the kitchen, the two of them laughing until they fell into bed.

When the video ended, Lando was silent for a while, just holding her hand.

“I thought a lot about what to give you as a gift. And nothing seemed good enough... until I realized that the best thing I can give you is my time, my attention, and every version of me. Because if you want me to, I want to be here for all your birthdays. Every single one.”

She didn't respond with words—she didn't need to. The kiss that followed said everything she felt: gratitude, love, and the certainty that this was the best birthday of her life.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[padmespetal]

casual — bruce wayne

synopsis: you were the voice in his ear, the shadow behind the screen, the one who stayed when the city chewed him up and spat him out. but you were never his. he was never yours.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: just angst </3

note: heavily inspired by the song of chappel roan, again english is NOT my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes! Again I used a pic of bale batman but you can imagine really any version of bruce you want. I enjoyed writing this little piece hope you enjoy reading 🤍

You and Bruce weren’t exactly in a relationship.

You didn’t know what you were, really. Partners in… crime? No, that wasn’t right.

You weren’t criminals, and you weren’t his equal in the field. You weren’t his lover, either, despite the nights spent tangled together in the dark.

You were just there. A presence in the cave, a voice in his ear. A necessity, maybe, but never something more.

It hadn’t always been like this.

You had been a detective in the GCPD, filling in for Gordon while he recovered from an injury—one he’d sustained on one of his evening patrols with Batman.

You hadn’t trusted the masked vigilante at first. A man dressed as a bat fighting crime in the dead of night? It all sounded ridiculous. Borderline insane.

And yet, somehow, he had proven you wrong.

He’d saved your life. You’d saved his. That had been the turning point, the moment when your worlds became entangled in a way you never anticipated.

He’d bled out in front of you, the infamous Bat crumbling to the floor, and in the frantic rush to keep him alive, you discovered the truth: Bruce Wayne was Batman.

At the time, it hadn’t even registered. The billionaire playboy façade was so far removed from the bleeding, broken man before you that it barely mattered.

All that mattered was keeping him breathing. You’d tried—and failed—to drive the Batmobile before fumbling for his phone and calling the only contact he had labeled as ‘Emergency.’

Alfred Pennyworth.

You hadn’t thought about the strangeness of it all until hours later, when Bruce was stable in the Batcave and you were left sitting in the cold, damp silence, staring at the cowl he had carelessly discarded.

That was how it started. How you became his.

Not in the way you wanted. Never in the way you wanted.

You were the voice in his ear, the one watching through the high-tech lenses embedded in his cowl, the one guiding him through the streets of Gotham from the shadows of the Batcave.

He never said it, but you knew he relied on you. Needed you, in a way. But not enough. Never enough.

Tonight had been like any other night.

Bruce had intercepted a mugging, left the thugs broken and whimpering in a dark alley, and now he was prowling through a warehouse rumored to be a hub of criminal activity.

You were in your usual seat, shrouded in dim light, eyes locked onto the monitors displaying his every move.

Then she appeared.

“Fancy seeing you here, Batman.”

The voice was unmistakable. Sharp, sultry, carrying the kind of confidence you could never quite master. The moment Bruce turned, his lenses scanned her features and displayed the name you already knew by heart.

Selina Kyle.

Catwoman.

Your stomach twisted as the sleek silhouette of her body came into view, wrapped in that infamous leather suit.

The pointed cat ears, the glint of mischief in her eyes—she was perfect, in a way that made you feel painfully ordinary.

Bruce grunted something in response, but you weren’t really listening. Your mind was caught in an endless loop, analyzing every interaction, every glance exchanged between them. You knew their history. Everyone did.

The bat and the cat.

She stepped closer.

Your breath caught.

You told yourself you were imagining it, that you were just seeing things through the distorted, blue-tinted lens of the cowl’s feed. But then it happened—

She kissed him.

It wasn’t a long, drawn-out affair. Just a brief press of lips. But it was enough.

You felt your chest tighten. A stupid, irrational reaction.

Pull yourself together.

You forced a breath out, clearing your throat as you leaned back in your chair, trying to appear casual. Trying to be casual.

“Well,” you said, feigning indifference. “Care to introduce me to your lady friend one day?”

Bruce barely spared you a glance. “She’s not my friend.”

“Oh.” You let out a humorless chuckle. “Then whatever she is.”

He didn’t respond. Just moved forward, deeper into the warehouse, his focus shifting back to the mission.

Your fingers clenched around the edge of the desk.

Right. The mission. That was all that mattered.

You swallowed down the bitterness rising in your throat and forced yourself back into the rhythm of things.

It should’ve been easy—you’d spent months perfecting the art of detachment, training yourself not to expect more than what Bruce was willing to give.

But something about tonight felt different.

The silence stretched between you, heavier than before. You spoke only when necessary, feeding him intel in clipped, mechanical sentences. And Bruce—Bruce noticed.

He always noticed.

The warehouse turned out to be a dead end. By the time dawn was creeping over the horizon, you were already halfway out the door, eager to escape before you did something stupid.

But then—

“Wait.”

You froze.

Bruce’s voice, still rough from the night, still filtered through the comms, stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Stay,” he said. Blunt. Direct.

And you knew what he meant.

You had done this dance before.

Batman was just a man, and men had needs. Carnal needs.

And when the weight of the city grew too heavy, when his demons clawed at his throat, he turned to you. Not out of love, not even out of affection, but because you were convenient.

And maybe, for a time, that had been enough.

But not anymore.

You closed your eyes, inhaling sharply. “No. Not tonight.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“Maybe you can go find Selina.”

The words left your lips before you could stop them, laced with something sharp, something you couldn’t swallow down fast enough.

Bruce scoffed. Not angry, just exasperated.

“You need to let this go.” His voice was clipped, impatient, like he was reprimanding a child.

And that—that—was what did it.

Your jaw tightened. “Good night, Bruce.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You tore the earpiece out, slammed the monitor off, and grabbed your things with shaking hands. You were done.

Alfred met you at the entrance of the Batcave, ever the picture of quiet understanding.

His gaze flickered over your face, taking in the unshed tears clinging to your lashes, and in a rare show of restraint, he said nothing.

Because he knew.

Of course he knew.

You left without another word.

And when Bruce returned to the cave hours later, peeling off the cowl with the same stoic expression he always wore, Alfred was already waiting for him.

The older man said nothing at first. Just set down a cup of tea with deliberate slowness, watching as Bruce methodically stripped off his gear.

Then, finally—

“Was it worth it, sir?”

Bruce didn’t look up. “Don’t start, Alfred.”

But Alfred only sighed.

“I do wonder, Master Wayne… how many times must you push away the ones who truly care for you before you realize you’re running out of people to come back to?”

Bruce stiffened.

For a moment, the cave was silent.

“She was never mine to begin with.”

A pause. A flicker of something in his expression, something unreadable.

Alfred shook his head. “No, sir. But you were hers.”

And Bruce said nothing.

Because they both knew it was true.

© padmespetal 2025 - I DO NOT APPROVE OF MY WORKS TO BE TRANSLATED OR COPIED ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION

tags:

[zorosangell]

PLSSSS CAN YOU DO A DRABBLE ABT READER LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON KATAKURIS NECK AND FACE AND HE DOESNT KNOW he just shows up to work or wtevr w kiss marks all over him and everyone is too scared to tell him, then somone finally tells him and he comes home and reader is just laughing at him LADKFALSDOTFIAHTOAHSDKLGJADG

⛥ﾟ・。 lipstick

SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- you manage to corner katakuri right before he has to go, stealing some kisses before sending him on his way. little does he know you've taken the time to mark up your territory. sadly, he learns the hard way.

cw: fluff, comfort, gets a bit spicy, dad katakuri, katakuri is katakuri, their dynamic is so adorable, he is twenty-six, you are twenty-five, soda is two, you and him are so in love<3

a/n: sorry i did a bit of my own spin on it <3 i can totally write another version tho i liked ur idea anon

"Love," Katakuri started as he entered your shared room, hair dampened and towel hanging loosely around his hips as he padded toward his closet. "Do you know what happened to my boots? They're not where I left them."

With a hum, you glanced up from your book—which you were reading while cuddled in the pillows—scrunching your nose in an attempt to push up your reading glasses.

"Huh? What did you—"

The moment you caught sight of him, all will to finish your sentence went completely out the window, along with the recipe book you were so enraptured in.

'GOD-DAMN.'

The girlish flutter in your chest made you practically swoon, an almost dreamy sigh managing to slip past your lips.

The sheer beauty of your husband never failed to amaze you.

Sure, it was common knowledge to nearly everyone in Totto Land that the Sweet General was an honest-to-goodness knockout.

The women of the sugary archipelago often came to the agreement that he was among the handsomest of the Charlottes, and even those who had seen his mouth could admit that he was still quite the looker—you'd spoken ad nauseam about how much you believed it amplified his attractiveness, despite his fervent denial.

But for you to see him here?

In your house... in your room... as your husband... looking as delectable as he did right how?

Dampened, mussed hair, which caused a few water droplets to drip and slide down the broad, muscular ridges of his back.

Abdominals carved out of solid marble, accentuated by his dewy, freshly-showered skin and swirled tattoo.

Slightly miffed expression, which forced his lips to curl in a half snarl as he rummaged through his perfectly neat closet.

Perfectly tapered v-line, which was followed by a certain trail of soft, dark, pink hair, the surprise a few inches below just barely hidden away by a tantalizingly thin towel.

And he expected you to go about business as usual.

Please.

You'd seen him naked more times than you could count, but somehow, he had a way of making every time feel like the first time.

"My boots," he repeated, completely oblivious to your ogling as he continued his search. "You think Soda took them again?"

His words went in one ear and out the other, your body already forcing you off the bed as you carefully removed your glasses, resting them on your nightstand.

It was as if you were entranced, unable to look away as his muscles flexed with each minute movement.

"Kuri~" you purred, sing-songily, as you slowly began to stalk toward him.

At your tone, he froze, eyes going wide as he kept his back to you, making sure his face was still hidden in the closet.

'Shit.'

Instantly, he began running through any and every possible scenario, frantically searching for something he must've forgotten to warrant such a tone—in his hunt for his shoes, he had failed to notice that you had come off as teasing rather than scolding.

Birthday?

'(XX/XX). Not today.'

Anniversary?

'Just passed.'

Doughnut stash?

'Closet compartment's still intact.'

Internally, he cursed, sadly unable to pinpoint what he'd done wrong.

'Dammit.'

"My love... have I ever told you how handsome you look?" you smiled, sweetly, as you wrapped your arms around his sinfully narrow waist, resting your head against his spine.

At your anti-climactic statement, he let out a relieved sigh, ignoring the stinging tinge of blush that rose to his cheeks as he stood up straight, turning to you.

"Too many times," he half-heartedly joked, taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips, muffling the hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

But you noticed nonetheless, a faint pout rising to your lips at the sound.

"Is Soda asleep? I need my boots."

Flippantly, you shrugged, slowly sliding your hands up his chest as you slowly pressed yourself against him, already beginning to nestle into your special spot at the column of his throat.

Stomach aflutter, he attempted to resist—barely—strong hands grabbing onto your hips in hopes of prying you off.

"(y/n)... I have to leave in ten minutes..."

"You will," you purred, nibbling on his lobe as your fingers threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. "Just give me a minute to feel my husband."

Fuck.

You knew exactly what button to press.

Smoothly, your free hand traveled from his waist to his abs, tracing each toned divot with a feather-light touch, before slowly moving down toward his towel.

"I need to..." he trailed off as you undid the towel, leaving him exposed to you.

"Need to what?" you asked, looking up at him with big, doe eyes. "Leave me alone... leave me cold?"

Against every logical thought screaming at him not to look at you, he did so anyway, breath hitching sharply at the sheer dilation of your pupils, which were blown completely wide with lust.

It was intoxicating... and it was all because of a little shower.

Every fiber of his being wanted to give in, to stay home instead and spend the night giving you all the attention you were begging for.

But his brothers were expecting him in thirty minutes, and it already took twenty to get there—

Without warning, you leaned in, hand sliding back down to his chest as your lips ghosted over his, just barely kissing the length of his teeth.

"I need you now, Kuri... please," you pleaded, the words coming out with a slight whine.

That, paired with your large, beautiful eyes staring right into his soul, and he was done for.

Who was he to say no to you?

"Dammit..." he huffed, his thick arm quickly wrapping around your waist, effortlessly hoisting you off the ground and scooping you up bridal style. "Five minutes."

Elated, you let out a gasp, happily wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Promise!" you nodded, honestly.

But, before you could say anything else, you were tossed back onto the bed, the force causing you to bounce right into his chest as he climbed on top of you.

"EEK! Kuri!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as your hands braced themselves on his shoulders, his arms already back around you as he pulled you in for an impossibly firm kiss.

"So spoiled..." he muttered against your lips, hungrily. "Gonna be the death of me, woman."

Disbelieving, he let out an amused sigh, not at all surprised by how easily you'd gotten your way.

Charlotte Katakuri was whipped, so much so that he wasn't even sure the word no was in his vocabulary when things came to his sweet, little wife.

His sly, little wife, who had him wrapped around her manicured finger.

Though, if he was being truly honest, he wouldn't have it any other way.

BONUS !!

"Katakuri," Oven greeted with a smirk, eyes rolling over his older brother as he steadily approached. "Fashionably late, I see... that's quite unlike you."

"I got held up by some business," your husband answered in a cool monotone, expression neutral, as it always was when he was out of the house.

At that, Daifuku snickered, though he was quick to cover it up.

"We can see that..." he chuckled, eyes flicking around his brother's face. "Riveting endeavors, I'm sure."

Confused, Katakuri raised a brow, coming to a halt as he finally reached them.

Why the hell were they acting so weird?

"I take it you and (y/n) are still going strong," Oven continued, thoroughly amused as he nodded to the general's face. "Y'know... given the schmutz you've got on your—"

"Everywhere," Daifuku finished, both his and Oven's snickers now impossible to ignore.

Now even more lost than before, Katakuri glanced down at himself, a dark shade of crimson burning its way onto his face as his eyes blew wide, completely mortified.

In his rush out the house, he had failed to realize that the entirety of his chest and stomach was littered with lipstick, smudged and practically everywhere from your impromptu makeout session.

Even his face—which he'd have noticed right away if he'd taken a moment to look in a mirror—was completely marked, some even having found its way onto his lips during your game of tonsil hockey.

And his wild hair only further sold the look, the poor man looking as if he'd just stumbled out of a red light district.

"Not.a word of this... to anybody," Katakuri growled with murderous intent, gaze locked in on his two younger brothers, who were practically in the floor with laughter.

"I gotta say, the look works!" Oven bellowed, heartily, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"Yes, (y/n)'s got nice taste. The shade compliments his skin quite nicely," Daifuku nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bring out the terrifying glint in his eyes."

With a tired sigh, Katakuri turned his arm to mochi, using it to wipe off the stains as he stared into the distance, ignoring their persistent barbs.

Sure, he wouldn't live this down for a long while, but if he was being honest...

It was completely and totally worth it.