#...that we should be happy with whatever scraps we get...

[uncanny-tranny]

i know this isnt usually what ppl send u but i look up to u and i love the way u see transness, im sure u can help. basically i got top surgery 4 months ago and im extremely unhappy with my results. not the surgeons fault, he warned me getting keyhole might require revisions, and im getting them in november, but i cant help feeling like ive failed my transition. i still have so much chest dysphoria. how to cope until november? it's unbearable, its all i think about; that i still have, u know...

Continued ask:

First of all, I feel the need to emphasize that this isn't your fault. You haven't failed at anything. It is okay not to be satisfied with your results right now, especially with a surgery that needs revisions. You are entirely allowed to seek those revisions, and while it's nice that other people think the results look fine, that doesn't outweigh that your opinion about your chest and how it looks is most important. You are not selfish or unreasonable to acknowledge this. I just really, really feel the need to say this because I worry that so many trans people are afraid to admit when they aren't totally satisfied with surgery because it takes a lot of effort and they want to show the "appropriately amount of happiness." This idea, however, isn't right and isn't fair. You are allowed to feel however you feel about your results; other people's opinions aren't a factor in that.

I will also state that I haven't had surgery yet, but I definitely would encourage you to build trust in yourself to express this. It's great that you have admitted how you think about the results. That's a big deal! I think, though, that it can be important to build trust in yourself to be able to be happy and satisfied. There may come a point where, after revisions, you are happy, and that's something I also noticed in your ask. I just think it can be helpful to internalize that hopefulness because it empowers you to know that this isn't permanent.

I also hope that you have a support network that is affirming and will listen. It's nice to be told that others think your chest is fine, and I'm sure they are completely genuine and mean it, but I think it's missing the point. It isn't about having a "cis chest" or a "good-looking chest," it's about having a chest that makes you happy. If you're able, I'd definitely make that clear if you haven't (no judgments if you haven't)

This is a tumultuous time, I'm sure. You deserve to be able to express the full range of your emotions however works best for you. But not for one second do I wish you feel that you have failed. There is nothing you failed at. Transition will always be a unique experience, for the better and worse. I just wish you peace along your journey. You are the most important part of your transition. Your body, your voice, your spirit all matter so immensely, no matter where you are in this part of transition. If there is nothing tangible I can do to help you with this, then I simply want to remind you of just how utterly you matter. I'm glad you were able to open up about this. It's so incredibly vulnerable and scary to admit, even though there is nothing bad about what you feel.

[thehealingsystem]

nate please please please please I am shaking you by the shoulders right now no one needs to do this please you can make a actual thought provoking interesting thumbnail for the song you don't need to appeal to clickbait algorithms anymore you're still letting yourself be bound to it people loved your early original songs for what they were without this. please stop doing this please stop changing thumbnails I am going to cry

[joaniscruzing]

reuniting with jinx <3

everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...

obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??

summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.

warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED

you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.

"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."

vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.

"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."

you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.

after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.

you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.

the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.

"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.

"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.

"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."

shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.

"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.

"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.

"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."

"and how did you get back to zaun?"

"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."

you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.

"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"

"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.

"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.

her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.

"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.

"i love you too."

[pjomakesyourkidsgay]

. . . leo valdez

˖°𓇼 bf!leo absolutely ends up being an accidental romantic. bf!leo who doesn't really care that it's valentines day, specifically, but he just really likes to spend time with you and make you happy. bf!leo who cracks annoying jokes and calls you weird terms of endearment like "cute little chicken mcnugget" and "adorable miniscule metal scrap with eyes" and "special sparky mcdonald's sprite". bf!leo who drags you to a burger king at a ghastly eight in the morning to grab a burger because he was working late the night before. bf!leo who makes an effort to clean out bunker nine so that you can spend the day there comfortably. bf!leo who, out of nowhere, takes you out on a ride with festus to get groceries for a spontaneous private camping night. bf!leo who prepares his famous tofu tacos just for you. bf!leo who starts the bonfire but ends up getting his hair on fire. bf!leo who plays just dance with you on a switch he made. he definitely knows all the latest dances. bf!leo who tries to cheat in uno by making a machine but he fails because you can see every little thing he's doing. bf!leo who toasts the marshmallows just perfectly. bf!leo who tells festus to ward off every other camper that tries to get near your date site. bf!leo who makes you little custom gifts made out of the extra parts and pieces of his projects. bf!leo who warms you up at night by cuddling with you. bf!leo who lets you play with his unruly, curly mess of hair. bf!leo who's a total best friend kind of boyfriend. bf!leo who reserves the most emotional part of him for your eyes only because of the immense trust he has for you. bf!leo who can't go a full day without, at some point, holding your hand in his perpetually warm, calloused ones. bf!leo who falls asleep next to you, his face buried in your stomach as he snores, really loudly...

"bro, pay attention to me."

leo's head whips away from whatever he's tinkering with between his fingers, sending you a carefully practiced look, one eyebrow raised to his hairline. "bro?"

"i'm-"

"well, okay, dude," he shoots back. "what is it you want to tell me, buddy? are you alright, mate? perhaps this chap right o'here wanted a l'il ol' chat? well, buckaroo, did you want attention from your special bruzz?"

"leo!" you shove him by the shoulder, cackling at the offended look on his face (that had melted the moment you started laughing at his antics). if you hadn't called his name he might've named every name in the book of bro code, and you really didn't need that. even festus blew a column of smoke into the latino's face.

"i know we're comfy and all but a random bro? seriously? weren't we just kissing by the fire?"

"that's enough," you interrupt him, a hue of red flushing your features, but if anyone asked you'd swear it was the flame reflecting back on your face. "i'm sorry, my hyper little elf boyfriend. is that better?"

"infinitely so, my blushing fairy maiden of a girlfriend, though we should go easy on the 'little'."

"i'm not blushing!"

"of course not, it must be my eyes playing tricks on me."

you shove him, again, with your foot this time. your socks were matching with his, cute miniscule fire-breathing dragons in yellow and red. "hey, you're gonna make me drop this!"

you halt your attack and scoot on over closer to him, peeking over his shoulder, his dark curls poking your eye. "what's that?"

"woah, there, ms. nosy!" he yelps, tucking the item back into a clasped hand and throwing an arm around your waist, bringing you down. "not yet." he mutters incoherent things, muffled because of his face practically pressing up against your stomach.

you complain immediately in his hold. "you're too hot."

"yeah, i know i'm hot."

"you suck!" you try to wriggle out of his grasp but he pulls you closer, holding onto you as if you were a giant teddy bear. "leo, i'm going to start overheating!"

he looks up at you then, grinning. "then we'll overheat together."

you give his hair a slight (and loving) yank, plastering a serious face on. "bruh."

"that's so not sigma of you," he whines, sitting back up and pulling something out of his pocket. "alright, then, i'll give it to you now."

"are you gonna fight me? get ready to catch these hands, you absolue L rizz."

"i'm supposed to be the brainrot one!"

with a joking eyeroll, he finally opens his hands in the way one would do when proposing. in his palm was a little metal box, about two inches on all sides, tightly closed.

you watch it for a couple of seconds, finally realizing that it wasn't about to do anything. you look at the latino boy questioningly.

"put the pad of your thumb here," he points at the spot, "it has a fingerprint sensor. it opens only to you."

so you do as you're told, and the tiny box opens, transformers-style. a round, rotating platform rises from the middle, showing tiny statues of what could only be you and him mid-wrestle, faces contorted with mirth. your favorite song plays as mini-you-and-leo spin around to the music, a scene of pure love between the two of you captured with the perfect backtrack.

"oh my gods," you gasp out, lips parted. you reach out to push his hands safely out of the way before kissing him. lips on lips, full of passion and obvious gratitude.

you pull away, he's still wonderstruck, you're peppering kisses all over his cute face with a 'thank you' between each one.

"ladies, ladies!" he laughs, closing the music box and placing it gently into your hand. "calm down! take a few deep breaths."

you open the box again immediately after you receive it, singing the lyrics to the song softly until leo kisses your cheek and sings them louder, word for word.

eventually the night dissolves into song, into you and leo's song, and screw it if all the other campers can't sleep.

dividers by: @strangergraphics and @ianrkives

[munv]

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘.

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝗦𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗔𝗴𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

Discord server for updates

P2

How long has it been? You can't tell, or more like you couldn't. Time didn't exist, and the few rare moments where you felt like it did? You tried anything and everything within your power to escape from this deep sleep, whatever it was. Maybe this was some really messed up fever dream? Or did the aliens beat the government and now you're in their little experimentation room? 

Then you started to feel it, that small pull, that would set you free. And so It did. It felt like a chain reaction of burning, and then feeling completely refreshed all over your body. It was painful, but as soon as you started to move your hands out of the cracked stone, you felt way better. It was only a few mere seconds, but life didn't feel so dull anymore. 

You squinted as you sat up from your crouched position, the vibrant trees surrounded you, and a breeze rushed towards your body. You struggled for a bit before standing upright, using a tree branch as leverage. The art club room where you had once taken shelter was gone, and instead you were embraced by Mother Nature at her finest. 

It's been a while since you've last seen so many trees. Normally they were all cut down for some kind of usage, like the desks you had at school. It finally struck you that you were in fact, alone. Not in the way that you had hoped when you were in school and you needed some alone time every once in a while.

No, now there wasn't enough noise to indulge in, no gossip to listen to during lunch, and no one to come and check up on you every once in a while. You were officially alone. Nothing but stone statues to grace your eyesight and greenery. The society that you once knew was gone, and you had to at least come to terms with the new environment, so with lanky arms and empty head, you began to get accustomed with your surroundings. 

  Step one: cover up

You fumbled a bit with the leaves that you were able to find and some vine, before successfully covering your most vulnerable parts

Step two: identifying sources of food and water

After rustling though many bushes, you finally came across what seemed to be a fresh source of water from a nearby stream, did it taste good? hell yeah? were you able to find food? fuck no

step three: explore surroundings 

Now this one was a bit challenging, because not only are in the wild with no where to call home, but there could also be wild animals. Without a doubt humans are no longer at the top of the food chain, since zoo's existed, you don't doubt that some pretty hungry beasts are roaming around right this second, even ones who aren't even native to Japan too. 

So that's how you began the hike of worry

So, scrap the whole "oh im alone and there's no one else on the planet now!" now you were face to face with what seemed to be a village. Your only problem? The two guards in front of you, who didn’t seem so keen on your arrival 

“Stop. Who are you and what do you have to do with this village?” His voice was like a sharp blade, a contrast to his counterpart who looked much more relaxed, but curious 

Almost as if it was instinct, you raised your hands "I don't have anything on me, I just need resources to survive is all". The brown haired man narrowed his eyes with something akin to malice. "We don't allow just anyone into our village. Begone"

'begone? what kind of-'

"Kinro, I don't think she looks like a threat! I mean, it's just some harmless girl!" 

'should I be offended or happy he's backing me up?..' you sweat dropped, by the looks at it he was basically feigning at the idea of a girl being let into the village. Pretty scary honestly but you'll take what you can get. "yeah! I'm just some...harmless girl!" you cringed at the words that just left your mouth.

"Rules are Rules Ginro, this is about trust, not about what you can do" he stood tall, spear in hand. He almost looked as if he was belittling you right now. Clearly he wasn't convinced. 

'so he's one of those types, this is gonna be a breeze'

"say, how about I strike you a deal?" you lowered your raised hands and outstretched one. Kinro let out a unimpressed grumble, before finally hearing you out. "I can prove to you guys the im not a threat, and for the hell of it? I'll even make you a promise."

"oh yeah! Kinro loves those so-" "Ginro." the blonde one gave a nervous expression before apologizing. "what if I beat you in a sparring match? Im assuming those spears you carry around aren't for show right?" 

Kinro studied you for what felt like a minute with an unreadable expression. "what are your conditions?" 

'perfect'

"If you win, I'll leave and you will never see me again..If I win however? I'll have the right to stay in your village. Although I have to talk to your chief for that, you cannot deny me access in regards to leaving and entering. Satisfied?" You kept your hand outstretched, waiting for him to take it. It wasn't too long before he gave a brisk nod and stepped forward to take your hand in his much larger one. "I accept your terms, make sure you honor them"

"I expect no less, mr Kinrou" you gave him a smile "..just Kinro, please." pink dusted his cheeks 

Kinro lunged first once it began, spear in hand, and it made you swear he probably had half a mind to kill you and be done with it. You sidestepped the blade, with it narrowly missing your shoulder. He gave you no time to catch breath before spinning his weapon around again in an arc, feeling the air slice as it passed overhead. Using the stone knife that was given to you by Ginro, you aimed for his side. He brought down the spear to block the strike. You stumbled a bit but recovered quickly, so in a desperate attempt, you twisted your body and slid down onto the ground and aimed for his legs. 

In one swell swoop, he lost his balance and began to fall. You used to the small amount of time you had while he struggled to position yourself onto of him, knife aimed to cut through his throat while your legs held him down; one hand holding down his arm.

Ginro watched with surprise as you easily subdued his brother, "Oh no Kinro!" he trembled at the hostility that filled the air.

"I give in." he said with labored breathing. "You have proven yourself more than enough" his once tight grip on his weapon loosened as his body slumped. You shared a strained smile "you fight well"

"same to you..ah, what's your name?"

"[name]. Just [name]"

[petday]

Do you think that it is okay to be "slow" at art? I have problems with ADHD and I can never get things out very quickly... while I still improve, learn, and end up finishing things, it often takes me way longer than it should. It ends up being a little stressful because my friends can output drawings a lot quicker, even in doodle format, whereas even for just doodles it can take me at least an hour at times. This makes things like drawpiles a bit hard to do as well.

Yes, it is okay to be "slow" in art.

"Speed" is relative. You are quite fast in movement speed in comparison to a different person.

Going further, there are infinite points to compare your speed against. "Was I the fastest I could possibly be when depicting this character with these series of lines?" Well, there are infinite different series of lines you could have drawn, infinite influences that any one person can have, infinite life experiences, thus no two people will ever draw exactly the same. A person can draw faster than you, but their drawings are different than yours. Even when people emulate each other, there is something about each person that makes their differences clear eventually – attitude, subject matter, tendencies, choice of material... "Would my friend draw this picture faster than I could?" You can ask yourself such questions but it would be impossible to answer, because you are the person who made the drawing, thus whatever 'speed' was required for the drawing was exactly the 'speed' at which you made the drawing, otherwise the drawing would not exist at all.

If you wish to draw 'faster', you can avoid some actions. You can paint without use of the undo button, you do not have to flip the canvas, you do not have to spend time reading color theory, you can just draw. You can qualify even the messiest drawing as a 'finished' drawing. That's what I enjoy.

However, if you avoid actions that you enjoy for the purpose of 'saving time', you may end up desiring such actions, and you may regret your faster pace. Contrary to the belief that 'fast is best', being 'slow' can be preferable over being 'fast', because you are enjoying the actions that cause you to work at a slower pace.

In this world, I particularly dislike the focus on "high speed" as if it is an innately positive quality. It is a neutral quality. Of course, you should be fast in some emergency scenarios. But there is no 'perfect' future, so I do not see why humans rush towards this imaginary 'perfect' future. There are no 'perfect' pictures, so there is no rush to reach such a 'perfect' state. I was happy to refresh an artist's blog in 2006 and see a new picture once every few months. Also, there were some websites in which you could view the time-lapse video of a person's drawing, and some people spent hours and hours. There was no ability to edit the video, so you could watch people redraw things over and over, scrap various ideas, focus on different parts of a drawing, and so on. Even if the 'completed' drawing looked 'perfect' to me at first glance, the person might have taken a lot of time. I had fun watching their videos. Others would draw quickly, so their videos were short. That was cool too. I didn't feel either was superior over the other.

I like a slow pace. My speed varies because life and thoughts vary. I have spent weeks on some of my favorite works. I have spent months thinking about something before finally drawing about it. In artwork, you can spend an eternity. Ideas can mutate into different ideas if you leave them alone for a long time. There is no pressure to act immediately. That is great.

Perhaps you can make things with friends who do not usually draw. You may find that they have a fun insight in comparison to the friends who are experienced at drawing. 'High experience in drawing' can also result in 'doing things only in the way that we are taught is the correct way' which can result in 'repeating the same ideas and techniques.' That is fine, but 'low experience in creating art' can result in great art because they do not follow the common 'rules' that are popularized in various art communities, so they can make awesome, surprising artwork without consciously thinking about making something 'good'.

I am 'slow' in comparison to my friends. Drawing with friends was difficult to enjoy. "Well, I will just doodle fun things at the bottom of the page. Oh, others have already painted complex things." It's alright. It became fun when I stopped thinking much while drawing. You can doodle at your own pace, true friends will not judge you. Also, if you do not enjoy drawing with others, even if you make great effort to enjoy it, it is OK. There are other activities to enjoy with friends too. I can enjoy drawing with others sometimes, but other times, I prefer to draw alone.

[m1ssunderstanding]

My thoughts on Beatles 64

Am I a terrible person or something because I’m genuinely having such a hard time wrapping my head around these people’s reactions to their president getting shot. Like I can count on one hand the people I’d give a fuck about in DC and I’m not crying if that happens. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m not sad.

Who is this covering all my loving? It’s pretty.

I will forever love Paul and George’s big and little brother dynamic. Deep, cloudy scouse: they’re in perfect synchronization. Bright, squeaky scouse: Are they? Like, where is George’s little chimney sweep costume?!

And Paul’s sharp tone calling John’s name. I don’t know, I could obsess over any little scrap of footage of them. I just love picking apart details that reveal dynamics.

George’s insecure, curious, “Are you filming now?” Compared to his over-it, sardonic, “Are you recording our conversation?” He aged about twenty years between 64 and 69.

John’s reaction to his own voice in his ears is always a straight shot of joy.

I like that they’re showing all the boys. You know, because if only girls like them, then they’re just a silly pop group, but if boys like them too, well. That’s something else, isn’t it?

One of my favorite moments. No wonder Paul took so well to shepherding. His blood pressure spiking if John gets out of arm's reach. And John is of course so happy to be pulled back in.

Their hair really was so fluffy!

John spreads his legs when he’s playing because he’s an anxious attachment. Paul keeps his legs closed because he’s avoidant. In this essay I will.

This mix of She Loves You is really highlighting Ringo’s drumming for me. He’s so talented and attractive.

This is why Paul’s my favorite, genuinely. Because he goes from the most polite, people-pleasing, tender-heart to an absolute mean girl cunty bitch in the span of less than a second.

Ringo is the quickest wit, I’m telling you, and if anyone says otherwise, I’m cancelling you for classism.

Why is it always Paul these middle aged creeps feel the need to touch? I mean, I know why. But it makes me sick. That kind of thing is reserved for the mutuals. Definitely not cops.

It’s literally sooooo funny for me seeing this guy choke up about She Loves You. Like I’m genuinely happy for him, but I was literally just over at my husband’s grandparents double-wide and they Still go on about how stupid the Beatles haircuts were and how they remember the days before the Beatles when there was ‘real’ rock and roll on the radio.

So, Paul’s been telling the story of Jim critiquing She Loves You for literally sixty years now, and originally it was with mix-ins from John and George and without a lot of artificial sweeteners. Here’s the sixty-year-old version:

Back home in Liverpool, we used to sing over some of our songs to relatives—I did to my Dad and my aunties,” he recalled. “My Dad would look at me looking disappointed. ‘I don’t know young Paul,’ he’d say. ‘I try to get you to speak properly, and you drop your aitches. Why sing ‘Yeah, Yeah’ when you mean ‘Yes, Yes?’ I tried to explain this was the whole point of the song,” Paul continued. John broke in: “Anyone ever heard someone from Liverpool singing ‘Yes’? It’s YEAH.” Paul continued: “Well, we just laughed. My Dad gave us some of the worst advice ever. He said this music thing will never last. It’s all right on the side, he’d say, BUT PAUL IT WILL NEVER LAST!” “Remember,” said George, “he always wanted us to sing ‘Stairway to Paradise’?” – Ray Coleman article 1964

What a cutie. Shouldn't be allowed.

“That wasn’t really the case.” (that America was the land of the free). He always almost gets to his political views. You know? Microdosing? Left-bating? Maybe both. Whatever.

I LOVE their funny little accents with all my heart. John does posh scarily well.

Ringoooooooo!

“Go on! Defy convention!” Quotes that define the speaker. He should sell t-shirts with that slogan.

This girl’s Brooklyn accent and her confidence are so beautiful!

Why did they buy John an ID I’m actually dying! Oh! They don’t mean, they mean like Paul’s and Ringo’s bracelets. Got it. Okay. I was like ‘are you trying to help him ten years in advance with his immigration struggle?’

The juilliard girl is phenomenal.

I want the nylons and I want the shoes.

“Would you do me a tremendous favor?” “I’m not gonna kiss you like Elisabeth Taylor.” See? Ringo is the funny one. Ringo is so fucking sharp and nobody gives him the credit he’s due.

Ronnie Spector you deserved better, Queen! I love her. She’s so gorgeous, she’s so cool, she’s so young and energetic!

Two excellent Lennonisms right in a row. “Have you been watching the newsies?” and “I don’t care,” I say as I care caringly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he has the most sunshiny smile in the Beatles.

Ringoooooo!

Not the picture of JohnandPaul singing together as “with lovers and friends” plays.

Love Paul offering Ringo a candy. In yet another accent. People need to make them talk in goofy accents more in fic because it’s incessant. But I just love them offering each other food. It’ll always get me.

See, this is what I love about John. “People have been tryna stamp out rock and roll since it started.” “Why do you think that is? What are they afraid of?” “I always thought it was cause it came from black music.” He’s not ‘honest to a fault’ or whatever the boomer men love to say. But he’s very, very blunt, and he’s not going to try and skirt anything. You know?

Literally the most embarrassing thing a person can ever be is white.

“I thought it was very weak. You know what I think, I call a spade a spade. I thought it was weaker than weak.” Cook him! And then the mimicking! I love him so much! Holy shit, that would’ve been so enraging.

And then the quiet sass of the guy being interviewed right after. “Well, the versatility, the originality. I like anything that’s original.” I love some clever tumblr web-weaving in my documentaries.

In my husband’s grandparent’s defense, the “real rock and roll” they loved before the Beatles was literally only black artists.

I love this picture for ever. Look at how tight he’s holding on to John with one hand and the other hand raised in joyous triumph, engagement bracelet visible. This is Paul in heaven.

“The whole assumption of male vs female is not prominent. They’re sort of in-between.” Yes. Love. Keep going.

Ringo’s got all the quips, again. “Ringo, look over here!” Puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

I didn’t know Smokey Robinson and the Miracles went to the Cavern, that’s cool! And here I was thinking I wouldn’t learn anything new from this doc. His whole interview is very lovely and generous.

I always think “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me” probably spoke to John in terms of his relationship with Paul, but I go there so easily. Anyway, Smokey Robinson had every right to be pissed that they released a cover of his song without even asking. Like that would be illegal nowadays, right? And yet he’s so kind about it.

We talk about how scary Beatlemania was and we should because it was, but it really puts it in perspective for me personally hearing Smokey say he was shot at for trying to use the bathroom.

Oh I love that we have footage of Paul taking Ringo’s picture! Makes me think of “eye of the storm” obviously, but also the way he’s mocking the photographer's jargon of the time as he’s doing it. The fact that he ended up marrying a photographer who made a point to depict him as not just “some doe eyed sex object” in her pictures, and also of his song “pretty boys” and his quotes about the sexualization of “male models”. Definitely not about anything he himself experienced. Anyway, thoughts. Strings. Pins. Etc.

Also Ringo turning to the camera still filming him, “what do you think I am, a monkey?” Remember that part in this footage where Ringo says something like, “are we ever going to have a break from all these cameras?” And he’s exhausted. It really seems like, from the footage selected by this doc at least, that Paul and Ringo were doing the bulk of the lifting at this time just with cooperating with the show biz stuff. And isn’t that (interesting? Sad? Poetic? Good?) that they’re the ones still cooperating sixty years later.

How dare they cut out “but we ain’t written no poetry!”

As John’s panicking, “how are we gonna – have you seen the kids? How are we gonna get in, then?” Paul’s just calmly going, “Hi girls!” With a patient smile and a cute little wave. “I’ll just go in and speak to the people first, okay?” I love Paul “calming-down-other-people’s-hysteria-is-my-calling-in-life” McCartney.

Cute, George introducing a song he’ll do a viral backflip to in twenty years.

I wonder what that letter is. John’s being very tender with it.

“You’re fired!” “It’s Love Me Do, whacker!” With the sweetest most innocent smile. I love when John is John, you know?

“To me they’re all obviously low or middle class, highly illiterate, unintelligent wild kids seeking a little fun and pleasure . . . I think there’s something very strange about it at the same time, something very sick. . . . I’m sure that sexual reasons have something to do with it. They find the Beatles sexually attractive and they’ve made some kind of psychological tie with them. I think the whole thing’s a little bit frightening and quite sick.” Where’s that old meme with Trump describing the democrats in the most hateful terms he can think of and people being like “yep that’s me”?

Paul stopping to say goodbye by name to each of the people who've been in their hotel room one by one. It’s giving *Opra voice* “and you please don’t hate us and you please dont hate us and you please don’t hate us”

Ringo coming back because he went the wrong way is the most me-core thing.

Paul will come in with the random shouts and yelling in the middle of a song he’s singing lead on all the way from the very beginning and all the way to the very very end, huh.

I just get filled with so much rage at this image of the Bernstein family, especially after the footage of the Gonzalezes. Like, I know I need therapy. I know. But it costs money. Anyway, all rich people can go straight to hell. “I was allowed to wheel the TV set down from the library, down the corridor and into the dining room.” Oh, were you! Well, you must be very special, then.

I wonder if Paul’s title of his exhibition has anything to do with this quote from John about “It was like being in the eye of a hurricane.”

The girl hanging on Ringo like a jungle-gym is me. I love the way he flirts, it’s so smooth, physical, casual.

Classic John moment and he doesn’t even open his mouth.

My dearest wish is that these two are happily married now, holding hands in the theater watching this.

The voice of the woman asking Paul “what do you think of the American TV” sounded extremely like Linda’s. I sort of panicked for a second. Linda’s voice is lower, but the accent and cadence and the sort of wealthy slouch is the same.

I love them picking up on the dystopian beginnings of America’s version of late-stage capitalism and broadcasting the ridiculousness of it all to a public that didn’t know any different. “The situation in China is very bad. Have you ever wondered, when you’re eating at home?”

The guys setting up wearing Beatles wigs? Ew. Why?

Ringo’s so funny! “Watch any band. If anything goes wrong, they go – Blame the drummer.” And he’s so endearing and sweet. “I just always wanted to be IN the band, not like ‘oh, I’m over here.’” Reminds me of his quote about being lonely as an only child and ending up with three brothers. What a tenderheart.

Huh. Always thought some idiots just set up his rostrum backwards. The rest of the stage spinning around it makes much more sense.

That little smile between the two of them.

George in tears! Poor baby! I really do think, with the way this affected him on another level than it affected the others, and with the way he talked about his experiences at the Inny compared to Paul (not that you can trust Paul to say anything actually gets to him) that George maybe was more sensitive to classism than the others.

I hope Paul said something to that affect to George after. “They’re working at an embassy. We’re on the road, rocking. I don’t give a flying fuck.” You know? I could see it.

Another thing I love about John. You need that guy on your team, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish. That when people are being bitchy, you tell them to fuck off and you leave. I bet Paul, George, and Ringo were so relieved that John did that for them.

After Ringo talked about not wanting to be back behind and separate from the band, I’ve noticed all three of them stepping back sometimes to stand more in line with him when they’re not singing. I don’t know if it was conscious or natural, but either way, I love that they did that and I’m sure Ringo did too.

The looks and smiles

I usually maintain that Paul is only sexy from 60-61 and from 68-98 and from 18-now. But. This is just objectively hot, I don’t care who you are.

It’s so sweet to see George being such a ham, getting John to do silly bits with him, putting on a waiter’s uniform and passing out drinks, climbing up in the luggage compartment. I wish they could’ve somehow kept it at a pace that was manageable for him so he could’ve kept on being so happy with his life, you know? I mean it’s not like it just disappears completely. There’s some of it in Get Back and even in Anthology, but it’s just not the same.

This is what happens when you’re a slut, Paul. You get paternity suits that ruin your mood. Shame, shame.

Interesting that Paul points out Brian’s “defying convention” by having them play their scandalous rock and roll shows in all these “hallowed halls”. I’d never thought about it as Brian’s conscious decision but obviously it must’ve been, and that’s very clever and snarky of him.

“That man, who is strong enough to be gentle, that is a new man.” Betty Friedan is pro-beatle. We love to see it!

Watching Paul try to behave like a human being on stage with all of his early twenties energy is honestly painful. It’s like Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, you know? Like I can just see him aching to let himself free, but there are weights put in place for a reason. I know Brian was right to calm them down, and this documentary is proof that if he hadn’t done his taming, either they never would’ve made it or there would’ve been all-out class warfare or something, but it breaks my heart, it really does.

Ronald Isley, again, just like Smokey Robinson, being so so charitable here, and managing to do so without playing down the fact that things were absolutely rigged against him and his group at the time. “We should be on the Ed Sullivan show doing . . .” Yes. Yes.

I looked it up, and this quote is genuine. “If it wasn’t for the isley brothers, we would still be in Liverpool.” – Paul McCartney. That’s one thing I love about him. He’s always giving – very much due – credit to his black contemporaries. People ask him about Elvis and he always says, “yes, and Little Richard.” People say he was the most innovative bass player of his time and he says, “yes, and Fred Thomas.”

Ringo literally gets me every time. George: I don’t remember Wales. Ringo: It was before you joined the group.

The way Paul talks about George living “the good life” is very much in the tone of an older brother who’s helped his little brother do well for himself, you know? It’s adorable.

Of course Paul’s out feeding seagulls.

Not even going to comment on the “i love you” thing. Nope.

Okay I do have to say, the end of this guy’s story about going to liverpool and getting deported is incredibly sweet. I was kind of ignoring him, and then when he said he met John during Imagine, I sort of braced myself. But it turned out absolutely adorable. I love John’s little antenna miming and that he promoted this guy just for having made the front page of the Liverpool Echo. It’s all very John, very endearing.

I hope Paul and this weepy old guy had a talk about healing yourself from abuse through music. There’s like a 1/100 chance, but I still hope they did.

John loves a good boat analogy, doesn’t he? “There was a ship going to discover the new world. And the beatles were in the crows nest on the same ship [as everyone else] and we just said ‘land ho!’

Love the use of “Roll Over Beethoven” as the final song.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[wishful-thinking64]

Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss Rewrite Ideas #01

I truly believe that both shows have a lot of untapped potential that we'll unfortunately never get to see thanks to Viv refusing to take criticism and the fact that her writers are all yes men. However, that doesn't mean I can't give out rewrite ideas like they're candy to those who wish to tap into either show's said potential. With that being said, here are some rewrite ideas that you could use for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss! ______ #01.) Have Mrs. Mayberry become one of the residents of the Hazbin Hotel. I promise you, this one writes itself. #02.) Have Glitz & Glam be Fizz's rival co-workers to parallel his time in the circus when he worked with the Buckzo twins who acted more like a family to him. #03.) Write some new workers for the Hazbin Hotel since they're still severely understaffed. You could make these new employees a Hellborn, a Sinner, an Overlord, or Goetia royalty if you wanted too. The possibilities for this one are endless! #04.) Let Heaven contrast with Hell based on how they operate. For example, in my rewrite for the Hellaverse, Heaven doesn't use currency at all. It quite literally doesn't exist up there. Instead, they use the Bartering System as they view it to be the most fair exchange of goods and services. #05.) Have there be a character who doesn't belong in Hell but got sent there anyway for whatever reason. I'd recommend using Valoris (my take on renaming Vaggie) if you don't mind keeping her as a fallen angel or using her original Sinner backstory however I feel like Amélie (I renamed Emily solely because her name is so common. It's not bad but you can tell that there was barely any thought put into it either.) could work just as well since she'd be a fallen Seraph. #06.) Make Lucifer and Stolas evil as they were originally intended to be before Viv scrapped the idea in favor of something worse. Stolitz is a toxic ship no matter how much damage control and retconning Helluva Boss tries to do and when initially asked about how Lucifer would act later in the series on an old livestream, Viv originally wanted to have his character be on par with that of Willy Wonka so do with that information what you will. #07.) Allow for Charlie's, "Anyone can be redeemed," mentality to constantly be challenged by those around her. Don't be afraid to have her be in the wrong because we all know that not everyone can be redeemed. Some people (Valentino) truly aren't deserving of it and others won't be accepting to change. You can lead a horse to water all you want but the horse has to decide to drink it. #08.) Create a proper foil ship for Fallen Star (I hate using the ship name Chaggie) cause if even Stolitz can have one in the form of Fizzmodeus then Fallen Star should have one too. Most people opt to use Emilute but I'm a damn GuitarSpear shipper so I opted for a crossover ship that has Emily and another character from Helluva Boss instead. Listen, if a rare pair and joke ship like CherriSnake can become canon over a ship like Sir Pentious x Rosie that actually makes sense when you consider they're from similar time periods, then a crossover ship being in my AU rewrite is the least of my problems.

For context, here's a screenshot for one of the HH mockup episodes before Viv and her team decided to scrap it. Like the majority of the HH mockup episodes. ______ Well, that's all I've got for now so happy writing and good luck!

[olderthannetfic]

I joined a fanfic writing discord group that wasn't fandom specific. The mods had hosted a few prompt-based writing events over the years that I had really enjoyed and I found a few new fandoms while going through the collection.

The discord was maybe the whiniest I had ever been a part of. So many people complaining about not receiving the right types of comments. Emojis were considered insincere. Anything that was only a few words like "I liked this" was touted as waste of time. Screen shots mocking the comments. "If you're going to leave a comment make it worth it" and "I know I'm only going to get X-many comments on this so it's disappointing when one of those is stupid." Yikes.

I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to push back on this negativity with that group of people. To suggest that someone who took a moment out of their free time/entertainment time to leave a comment, when most people don't, had positive intent. Share my own experience with a now fairly regular commenter who has only ever said "good." with the period in place. At first, not gonna lie, it was a little disappointing. But I could choose to allow myself to be disappointed and discouraged when that happened or find some joy in that. I chose to be happy.

Since then, I've been called ableist. Yoga aunt. a boot licking capitalist (honestly, this one puzzles me). I should be ashamed of myself for calling people who dare to dream of receiving more than just crumbs greedy. I bought into the idea that no one should ever complain about anything. How dare I tell people they should be happy with only scraps.

I've always been puzzled by the number of people who say that they're anxious about commenting and worried about doing it wrong etc because I thought we writers were all just happy about whatever interactions we got. There are people out there just showing their whole ass like that. It's going to be a long time before I try a new discord server

--

[sweetbunpura]

When Rollo and Yuu was found out as a couple

"I feel like this is an intervention..."

Currently, Yuu and Rollo were sitting in the Ramshackle lounge with the other NRC students in front of them.

"I would ask how you all got inside, but the lock is broken." Rollo crossed his arms. "So why, exactly, have you invaded our home?"

"Because you're both dating."

The couple on the couch froze. Rollo looked off to the side while Yuu laughed nervously.

"What? No, we're not, shut up."

"For once, the bastard's hobby came in handy." Leona crossed his arms. "We got pictures, Herbivore."

"Oui." Rook put the pictures on the coffee table.

Yuu and Rollo glanced at the pictures. They could spy pictures of them kissing, hugging, dancing together, and doing vaguely couple like actions.

"Wow, that's such an invasion of privacy-"

"Potato."

"Okay."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Riddle asked.

Rollo answered in her place. "Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but you are aware that I tried taking magic from several of you in the past? So, how do you think that reveal would've gone? Given how protective you all are of her."

They all shifted to glare at Rollo as Yuu sighed and placed her face in her hands.

"You guys should know how sharp his tongue is by now."

Ace scoffed. "Of course you would know that."

"Ace!"

"Ignoring what he just said." Riddle spoke with a strained voice. "Why him?"

This had Yuu narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. "Oh? And who else here would've been a better option?"

No one spoke up as they all either winced or looked off to the side. Kalim tried speaking, but Jamil covered his mouth.

"Or maybe, someone who actually asks me about my day? Or asks how I am? Who cares about the fact that I don't have magic and ACTUALLY remembers that?"

Heavy silence.

"I know you guys probably don't approve, but I'm not looking for it." She held Rollo's hand. "We didn't tell you cause Rolls likes his privacy and well... it's out there now. Accept it or don't."

"...Are you happy with him, Child of Man?" Malleus spoke up as all heads turned towards him.

"I am."

"Then that's all I require and I'm sure I'm not the only one."

Vil sighed. "We do want to see you happy... And if you are, then we have to accept that."

"But if he hurts you..." Idia added in and let the threat linger.

"Yeah, yeah, they won't find his body." Yuu waved her hand while Rollo fixed her with a stare. "But you'd guys would just have to go through whatever scraps I leave you."

"She already yelled at me once." Rollo said. "I'd rather her not do it again."

"Then everything is fine!" Lilia clapped his hands. "Now we should be on our way!"

"A moment." He spoke up before anyone could move. "We're aware how some of you knew from the photos, but how did the rest become aware of this?"

"...Cameras." Idia and Ortho confessed.

"Herbivore's scent started getting mixed with yours." Leona responded as Jack and Ruggie nodded behind him.

"Flamme's heartbeat would pick up when you were near and his body language would change." Malleus said as Lilia, Sebek, and Silver nodded in agreement.

"Yuu-san, you should know by now." Azul added in with Jade and Floyd smiling behind him.

Vil gestured to Rook, who smiled.

"Grim told us." The others responded.

"Grim..." The couple looked towards the direbeast as he flinched.

"Funa! I thought it was obvious! You two were even sleeping in the same bed!"

"Wait, what?"

"GRIM!"

Rollo placed his face in his hands and sighed as a loud argument started up. He hates this school, but it gave him Yuu, so he can't loathe it with all his heart.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HI I'M BACK here's a oneshot that I got the idea for in the middle of uni.

Also apologies that I haven't posted at all in January I'll be back properly I promise.

"It's not too late to back out, if you want," Remus offers, turning to Sirius.

"As if. We're here now, Moons. Besides, I think freaking out your entire extended family is a perfect use of my time." He holds out his hand, offering it to Remus. Remus rolls his eyes, but Sirius doesn't miss the smile that comes as he reaches out to grab his hand.

Honestly? Part of Sirius does want to run away. A big part of him regrets to agreeing in the first place.

Still, he's doing this for Remus.

"Me? Why in Merlin's name would you say my name?" Sirius asked, a little dumbfounded.

"I panicked!" Remus said back. "She was so excited about the possibility of me bringing a guy to the wedding, and I only really know three guys!"

Well, he wasn't exactly wrong.

"You don't have to come," he said quickly. "I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask? Four hours, free food, freak out my relatives who don't know I'm gay?"

"When you put it like that..."

Four hours in a liminal space where he can call Remus Lupin his boyfriend. Embarrassingly enough, Sirius has had dreams about this. Maybe not as a sudden stand in to make Hope happy, but he'll take whatever he can get, really.

It's going to suck when the night is over, though. His one scrap of self preservation was the only thing keeping him from agreeing. There's still a small part of him urging him to run away, protect himself by living with the careful boundaries he's drawn in his head to keep him from breaking his own heart. He knows Remus will never feel the same, and he also knows that he should be a lot more careful to keep himself sane, but he's here now. Surely he should just... embrace it?

The two of them walk through the muggle car park and down to the reception hall.

"Remus!" A girl's voice rings out, and Sirius feels Remus' grip tighten on his hand.

"Hi, Aunt Anna." Remus smiles graciously. Sirius watches the woman grind to a halt in front of Remus. It's as if there's some kind of magnetic field around him that keeps her from getting any closer.

"How is everything? How's the... special school?" She lowers her voice to say this, and Remus' smile strains a little. Sirius looks between them, a little confused. Is there something wrong with whatever stand in Remus is using for Hogwarts?

"Aunt Anna, I graduated in July. And it was a specialised school," he corrects politely. "More focused studies?" He says it like he's had to make this correction over and over. She smiles patronisingly, making Sirius' hair stand on end.

"Of course it was!" Her voice is fake, dismissive, frustrating Sirius to no end. Her eyes finally flick to Sirius, curiosity overtaking any sense of falseness on her face. "Who's this? Brought a friend along?"

"Oh, actually, he's not my friend, he's, er..." He glances a little helplessly at Sirius. Little does he know, the decision to go all in has solidified itself in his head. These stupid, patronising family members are going to respect Remus by the end of the night if it kills him.

"I'm his boyfriend. Sirius Black." He extends his hand with a smile that makes Anna blink, a little taken aback.

"Boyfriend? You're... oh!" She looks around, as if searching for someone else to have heard it. "Well, I guess it makes sense that you're... yeah. Um..." She smooths her skirt down, suddenly uncomfortable. "How did you two, er... meet?"

"We went to school together." Her eyes widen, and he nods. "Yeah, focused studies."

"Oh. Huh. I wouldn't have thought... What- what have you been up to then, Remus?"

"Not much, really."

"God, you're so modest!" Sirius says, quickly wrapping an arm around Remus' waist and pulling himself a little closer. He hears Anna clear her throat, fixing her expression as soon as he turns to face her. "He's gotten so many offers."

"Offers for what?"

"He hasn't told you?" Sirius asks innocently. She shakes her head, and he smiles at her. "He's going to be a doctor. Hospitals are fighting over him."

"A... doctor?" For a second, Sirius thinks he's accidentally fucked up the word, until Remus nods a little awkwardly.

"Yeah, there are a few places offering me spots. It's hardly fighting, though-"

"Haven't you gotten baskets from all five locations? I mean, you're getting offers from America!"

"Yeah, guess so." He shrugs, but Sirius is already happy enough with what he's done. Anna looks between them, a little surprised, before nodding once.

"Nice to see you, Remus." She turns to leave.

"It was lovely to meet you!" Sirius calls after her with a sweet smile.

"Sirius!" Remus turns to him, stunned.

"What?" He asks innocently. "I'm just showing you off a little!"

"She's going to be pissed." Remus bites his lower lip, worried. For a second, Sirius' mind malfunctions, having to tear his eyes away from Remus' lips and back to his eyes when he turns to face him. "She had to write Sam's personal statement for Cardiff Uni."

"Oh, then she can't say a bloody word! Special school, she can fucking bite me." It draws a chuckle out of Remus, much to Sirius' delight. "Right, should we find your mum?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

Much to Remus' dismay, they run into a fair few of his extended family on the way. Sirius does nothing but fawn over Remus, making sure to push his multitude of achievements. It's not exactly hard to do. If Remus was slightly less lovely all the time, he'd be able to do this. He shouldn't be his family's punching bag, and Sirius isn't about to let that continue. He's not even lying, he's just pointing out the things he notices every day. It's scarily easy. He manages to get two judgemental uncles to back off, as well as the boy who can't even write his own essay, clearly pushed over by his aunt and forced to flaunt a few flimsy achievements. Sirius feels a little bad for him, so he's not as obvious about pushing Remus' life to the forefront. It works all the same, getting Sam away before he could even start talking about the fact that Minnie wanted Remus to consider training to teach at Hogwarts.

By the time they reach Hope, Remus has turned bright red. It's a magnificent sight. Sirius wishes he could do this every day.

"Remus! Oh, and Sirius! Hi!" Hope is clearly a little tipsy, cheeks flushed as she beams at the two of them, pulling Remus into a hug, promptly followed by Sirius. "I'm so glad you could make it, Sirius."

"Wouldn't miss it," he answers back with a grin.

"Yeah, that's what I'm starting to get," Remus mumbles under his breath. Sirius hasn't missed the fact that he's standing a little taller than he was when he walked in, though. He's just too nice to push back at his family. "Mum, don't be surprised if Aunt Anna says I've grown into a rude young man as soon as she's got a drink down her."

"Why? What happened? Oh, she's always been a bit of a-"

"No, it's nothing. I just want you to be prepared." Remus waves her off, but Sirius has other plans.

"She was being shitty," Sirius answers with a shrug. Hope turns to him, and he elaborates. "She kept talking to Remus like he's a child! The moment I pointed out that he's actually pretty smart, in a pretty tame way, actually, she turned and left. I didn't think it was that bad."

Hope looks between the two of them, before bursting out laughing. Remus and Sirius exchange a slightly confused glance, as Hope tries to pull herself together.

"Oh, I'm so glad you-! I've tried my best, but she just- I don't think she cares what I say. I can't believe you managed... thank you, Sirius, that's absolutely brilliant!" Sirius beams at a stunned Remus, pleased. At least it wasn't just him who thinks that Remus' extended family are a bunch of self-centered wankers. "Honestly, Remus has talked non-stop about you, I'm so glad he finally found the courage to ask you!"

What?

Sirius' heart does a strange thing where it skips several beats all at once, making him feel a little dizzy.

"Non-stop?" He asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Yes, absolutely non-stop!"

"Mum," Remus says quickly, shooting her a glance. She seems completely undeterred, though.

"I told him it was worth taking the risk a long time ago. I mean, you're a lovely boy, and it's clear how much you care about him. It's just nice to know that it all paid off! I had a good feeling about you two-"

"Mum, I'm going to get a drink," Remus interjects suddenly. "I'll be back in a second." She looks like she's about to protest, but Remus is still going, voice slightly unsteady. "I'll tell you what Sirius said to everybody after. Come on, Sirius."

He grabs Sirius gently by the arm, pulling him in the direction of the bar before Sirius has a chance to say anything. Before they reach the bar, he veers off and shoves a door open. They turn a corner and get into a cramped room absolutely full of fold-able chairs. Remus shuts the door and lets go of Sirius' arm, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning against the door. His hands are shaking, and he looks a little like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

"...I'd have quite liked to hear more," Sirius says eventually, breaking the weird silence. Remus finally looks up at Sirius, a mix of confusion, frustration and panic evident.

"I feel like that was embarrassing enough," Remus answers simply, eyes flicking back to the floor.

"Is that why you asked me?" Sirius asks suddenly. He knows he should really say more, but he has countless questions, and he needs at least one of them answered. Remus nods once, playing with his fingers.

"Mum made the guess. She wouldn't have believed me if I'd said no."

"Because you've been talking about me 'non-stop,'" Sirius supplies, careful to use Hope's exact words. Remus nods quickly, face turning much redder than it had been before.

"Sorry," he says before Sirius can say anything else. Sirius frowns.

"For what?"

"Lying to you. I mean, I basically tricked you into this whole thing because I didn't want to disappoint my mum."

"You gave me an out multiple times," Sirius tries, but Remus isn't done.

"And for, er... what my mum said. I didn't realise that she'd... you can leave, if you want. I wouldn't be pissed. I mean, fuck, I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't want to speak to me for a while." Okay, now Sirius is much more confused. "I... I really hope this doesn't ruin our friendship, though. I know it's probably going to feel weird now, and I get that, but I- Merlin, I really don't want to lose you, Sirius."

"Remus," Sirius starts gently.

"I mean, we could just forget that she ever said that. I've been perfectly fine living like this until now, I'll be okay."

"Moony."

"Sorry. God, if I'd known that was going to happen I wouldn't have... I could have just... I don't know, fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"Remus!" Sirius finally manages to snap him out of his strange, apologetic tangent. "I just want to make sure that I haven't hideously misunderstood what your mum said. You like me?" Remus nods, and Sirius takes a step closer. "Romantically?" He nods again. "And you have for a while now?"

Remus barely gets a chance to nod before Sirius closes the gap between them, connecting their lips. He hears Remus gasp as he pulls away, locking eyes with him and watching him carefully. For a second, he watches as Remus' brain speeds up, eyes scanning over Sirius' face as he tries to process everything.

Eventually, he seems to throw out every thought in his brain, cupping Sirius' face in both of his hands and kissing him back. Time stops as Sirius is caught up in the feeling of Remus' lips on his, one hand moving from his face and into his hair, his own arms moving impulsively to wrap around Remus' waist. It's everything Sirius could have imagined and more. Part of him still thinks he's imagining things, that there's no way Remus is actually here kissing him. It's overwhelmingly perfect, making Sirius feel a little giddy with the joy rising in his chest-

"Oh my Lord!" A shrill voice that Sirius recognises as Anna interrupts them, forcing them apart. "I- I'm just- right, um... I- okay." She turns and leaves, absolutely dumbfounded, eyes wide and a little horrified. For a second they both look at the closed door, before turning to exchange a glance. The moment their eyes lock, Sirius starts laughing. It doesn't take much for Remus to join in, as Sirius drops his head on Remus' shoulder and Remus laughs along with him.

Fuck Remus' strange extended family.

Nothing can ruin this for them.

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.

I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?

If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.

It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.

Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”

“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.

“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.

He was pretty, even when he cried.

“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”

“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.

“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.

Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.

You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.

Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.

If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.

[aughhay]

Raian and y/n fight so he pulls over the car and teaches her a lesson!!

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲? || 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐞

“𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗋.”

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭; dubcon, blood, dirty talking, arguing, cursing, slapping, hair pulling, degradation/humiliation, public sex, raian’s wearing sweatpants.., cramped space, biting, facefucking, rough play, you & raian are complicated, cum in mouth

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; smut with gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.2k+, scrapped the actual sex part.

a/n; i did not proofread any of this shit 😦 im so sorry but WE HIT 40 NOTES ON THAT OHMA FIC IM SO HAPPY

18+ !!!

it’s about that time at night where raian turns into an egotistical asshole while driving, he starts noticing the streets are almost bare and grows a petty smirk. raian’s brain lights up with ideas to fuck with the remaining drivers on the road, make them pull over out of sheer fear or argue with them back and forth whilst going over the speed limit. it’s nothing new, but you’re sick of dealing with it as his passenger princess.

“raian, slow down a little.. you’re speeding..—“

“speeding? ha, you think this is fucking speeding?! this is nothing!.. i’ll show you and all these other bastards real speed.”

raian’s grin was as malice-filled as it was dark. his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he glanced over at you. he chuckled, barely audible, the sound mingling with the growl of the car engine as he pushed the pedal even further. your figure plunging back into the leather seat without warning. your head is in a swivel, hearing the beast's uncontrollable laughter as your body tries to adapt to the frenzied speed of the car.

the tension in the car became unbearable, the mix of danger and adrenaline filling the small space. his eyes flicked back to the road as you contemplated his words, the car's speed climbing with his expectations.

“stop the fucking car! it’s not funny, take me home raian.”

“you’re not going home ‘til i say so, and i say you keep your dolled up ass frozen in that passenger seat.”

his implications hang heavy, tangible as the charged air between you. raian’s hand, powerful and capable, finds a resting place on your thigh, digging into your skin without remorse. a reminder of his presence, his power. though your protests aren’t getting through to him one bit, the sound of your stern voice gets him hot, coaxing more out of you.

the car's interior feels stifling, tension thick between the two of you as headlights and street lamps streak by. you can tell by the tenseness of his jaw and the unwavering hardness pressing against his pants that his ire was vying with raw need. the silent car became a den of smoldered urges, one palpable exhale away from combusting.

“tch. little bitches like you always like to chat, don’t they?—“

“you may think you can bully all these other people on the road, but not me! you need to treat me with respect!”

“what makes you think you deserve my fucking respect? the fact that my cum was swishing inside of you last week makes you think i gotta be fucking jolly to you? hah! what a fucking joke.”

“fuck you!”

“fuck me?”

“fuck you! pull this car over now!”

raian’s scratched voice had a sick grin emerge deep inside. his eyes crinkling from a smile that could cause a god fear.

“if you were so worried ‘bout it... maybe you should have done somethin' to distract me, hah? could’ve curbed my fuckin' enthusiasm. but whatever..”

to hell with that alleyway three feet ahead as he swerved into it, his car jerks to a halt in the seclusion of the dark space. every tick slowed as he turned the headlights off and locked the car doors. even as time felt like it slowed, the hand that laid on your thigh switched to your locks in a quick snap.

“ah!—“

your squeak is muffled by the tight grip in your hair, raian’s jaw ticking as he watches the range of emotions play across your delicate features. he releases a chuckle, a sound scarred and throaty.

“d—don’t touch me!”

“that’s it, isn’t it? you love pissin’ me off ‘cause you know exactly what it leads to. fuckin’ freak. you’re lucky i’m hard too, would’ve kicked you the fuck out by now.”

“gonna make good use of you.”

the words come with a growl, his lips inches from yours as he leans closer, a silent promise of retribution or perhaps a dark form of foreplay.

without warning, his lips crash against yours, an aggressive and possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. it wasnt the kiss itself that made you feel that way, it was the harsh bite on your lips that took the air out your longing lungs. the anger that had been simmering between you diffuses gradually with each forceful movement of raian’s blood covered tongue against yours, seemingly battling for dominance. the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by someone as fierce and relentless as this man sends a thrilling shiver coursing through your body.

your hands meet with his chest, at first to push him away. this kiss stings, it hurts along with his hand still tangled near your scalp. but as his tongue meets with yours, your head feels fuzzy and your hands relent against his shirt.

raian pulls back his face, mouth open tongue exposed, the mixed saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue as he pants.

“yeah, gonna use you ‘til you break.”

his hand pushes you to his crotch, un-busied hand pulling down his sweats as he stares down at you with anticipation. but as his cock pops up in front of your face, you just can’t stop yourself. his musk is too addictive as you kiss up and down each vein, his member twitching against your crimson red lips.

raian isn’t impressed, at all. a bored expression as he grumbles and slaps your cheek, not full of pain but enough to sting for a few seconds. his hips forcefully separating your soft lips as he uses your mouth. pushing your head down to the base where his pubes tickle your skin. you salivate and gag on his cock, looking up at his face as your head bobs up and down on his length. eyes hazy, you turned into a mess in seconds.

“fuck yeah.”

his gruff whisper barely slices through the stillness, his large hand tangled in your hair, guiding your head in a gentle rhythm. you feel his girth stretch your lips, his hand tightening ever so slightly each time he meets the deeper side of your throat.

every rough thrust interrupts your breath, leaving you gasping, eager, the sound of your muffled gagging mingles with the leather seats squeaking. raian’s assertiveness envelops you, his satisfaction clear in the grunt that escapes him when you hollow your cheeks, the slurping sounds filling the tight space of the car.

he hears the undeniable sounds of your commitment, the involuntary noise that escapes you as he continues to test your limits. the car jostles lightly from his movements, the energy of your eagerness causing the heavy vehicle to rock gently. raian’s breathing becomes ragged, a stark contrast to his usual, nonchalant demeanor.

the sounds of your lewd dedication, the steady rhythm of your gagging, drive raian closer to the edge. with his focus now entirely on you. moments become stretched, every touch, every noise heightened as he surrenders to your oral ministrations, his release imminent.

“fuck— gah!”

his words cut off, a deep chested grunt filling the car as his grip on you becomes a vice, his body tensing. you feel his pulse quicken, the unmistakable twitch as he empties himself, your devotion unwavering. his cum splurts into your throat without warning, your coughing audible as it sticks inside your mouth and makes it a struggle to swallow.

raian laughs at your tussle, pulling you away and into the backseat.

[rose24207]

Best friends to enemies to lovers with lando x tewmmate reader where he loved her all along but he started pushing her away.. angsty with a happy ending please

I love all all of your work!

Rivals or lovers?

Summary: Lando and his teammate, initially fierce rivals, slowly begin to realize their unspoken attraction for each other, transforming from enemies to lovers as they confront their fears and vulnerabilities.

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers

TW: arguing

A/N: thank you for the request! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando Norris had never been one to back down from a challenge. It was what made him so competitive, what drove him to the top in the world of racing.

But when you became his teammate, it felt like his world had been flipped upside down. There was something about you—your sharp wit, your relentless drive, the way you never let anyone tell you what to do—that grated on his nerves.

Maybe it was the way you challenged him at every turn, or maybe it was the fact that you were so good, so damn good that it made him question his own abilities.

But whatever it was, you two couldn’t stand each other.

From the first moment you were assigned as teammates, the rivalry began. At every team meeting, you shot down his ideas and made snarky comments.

On the track, you never gave him an inch. It was like a game—who could get the best lap times, who could outwit the other. Every win you had felt like a personal affront to Lando’s pride, and every time you looked at him with that confident smirk on your face, he could feel his blood boiling.

And it wasn’t just the racing.

You hated the way he seemed so effortlessly popular, so always at ease, while you had to fight for every ounce of respect. You hated how Lando could turn on his charm and get people to adore him, while you had to constantly prove yourself, fight for every scrap of attention.

The tension between the two of you was so thick you could cut it with a knife. But neither of you was willing to back down. Every insult, every sharp comment, only made the rivalry worse.

You fought like cats and dogs, and yet... neither of you could ever stay mad for long.

It came to a head during a particularly heated post-race debrief. Lando had been in a foul mood all day, frustrated by a series of mistakes that had cost him valuable points.

You, on the other hand, had finished ahead of him again, something that hadn’t sat well with him.

“I’m just saying,” Lando snapped, throwing his hands up as the discussion continued, “if we had followed my strategy, I would’ve had a better chance at a higher finish. But instead, we got stuck in traffic.”

“Oh, spare me,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Maybe you should stop blaming everyone else for your mistakes. If you hadn’t been so reckless on that first lap, you might’ve actually made it out ahead of the rest of us.”

Lando’s nostrils flared. “I was doing what I needed to do to make up for lost time. You can’t just play it safe in this sport.”

“And that’s why you’re always so damn reckless,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Maybe if you thought things through instead of just reacting, you’d actually have a better shot at the title. But instead, you’re too busy acting like a show-off.”

His jaw clenched, and the room seemed to grow even more tense. Everyone in the room, from the engineers to the team principal, was watching the two of you like it was an episode of a reality show.

The argument seemed to be escalating, neither of you willing to concede an inch.

“I’m getting tired of you undermining everything I do,” Lando bit out, his voice low and dangerous.

“Oh, please,” you spat, your eyes narrowing. “I’m just stating the obvious. You can’t handle competition. Maybe if you focused more on the race and less on your ego, we’d all be better off.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Lando stared at you, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

But underneath the anger, there was something else—something that felt deeper than mere rivalry.

And that’s when it hit him.

He was attracted to you.

The realization shook him. He tried to push it aside, bury it under more anger, more frustration. But it lingered, gnawing at him in the quiet moments when the racing was over and the team was winding down.

Every time you shot him a look, every time you won—every time you were right, he couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten.

He hated it.

Hated the way you got under his skin.

Hated the way your smile made him forget how mad he was at you.

Hated the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

But he refused to let it show.

The rivalry, the distance, it was easier to keep it that way. You were his teammate, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

Not now, not when everything was on the line. But it was impossible to ignore the chemistry that simmered just beneath the surface.

And then, one night, everything fell apart.

It was after a particularly tough race where the two of you had both been involved in a collision with another driver, one that had resulted in you both being forced to retire from the race.

The night had been a disaster, and you were both too angry and too tired to deal with each other properly.

You were in the team’s garage, standing by your car, trying to cool off before heading back to the hotel. Lando was pacing nearby, his hands running through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

“You know, I’m getting sick of this,” Lando muttered under his breath, looking over at you. “You always think you’re so much better than me, like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You snapped back immediately. “You’re the one who keeps making excuses for your mistakes, Lando. Don’t act like I’m the problem.”

It was like a switch flipped.

The tension between you had been building for months, but now it was all coming to a head. Lando strode over to you, his jaw clenched and his fists at his sides.

“You want to know the truth?” Lando’s voice was low, almost a growl. “I don’t hate you. I never have. I’m not angry because you’re better than me or because I’m some childish idiot. I’m angry because I can’t stand how *much* I care about you. You drive me crazy, Y/N. I hate that I want to make this work with you so badly.”

You stood frozen, shock overtaking your features. Your heart raced, but you couldn’t form the words. He was right in front of you, and everything you had tried to ignore, all the feelings you had buried deep down, were suddenly surfacing.

“I’ve been pushing you away because I can’t handle it,” Lando continued, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been afraid to admit that I want something more. Something with you.

But I’m not going to do that anymore. I can’t keep pretending.”

You were speechless for a long moment. This wasn’t the Lando you knew—the cocky, confident racer. This was raw, vulnerable Lando. The one who was afraid of losing everything. And in that moment, you realized you’d been afraid of the same thing.

But the truth hit you hard. You didn’t want to push him away anymore either.

You couldn’t.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” you whispered, taking a step toward him. “I’m not afraid to feel something for you.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he took a step closer. And then, with a surge of emotion, he kissed you—not out of competition, but because, despite everything, he had always loved you.

It wasn’t easy, but slowly, things started to change. From enemies to something more, the shift was gradual, but undeniable. No longer was there bitterness, no longer was there rivalry. Instead, there was partnership, trust, and the possibility of something more.

And it was in that moment, on the track and off, that you finally realized: what you had wasn’t just about racing.

It was about you two.

Together.

Thank you for reading!

[fairyhaos]

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^