#Remember kids: Abusive platonic relationships happen too.

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?” 

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

TAG LIST: @be-your-coffee-pot @supremebaddietrash @mellowarcadefun @cmleitora @kyuupidwrites @80sloverry @newlifeforus @soulaires @hrrorflm @redwolfxx @icarus-nex @jenniferrvsesi @bborra @leilanixx @hc-dutch @withyoutilltheendodthismess @is-just-a @freetimemachinequeen @saturnchase @butterfly-lover @eddiesbitch83 @elliott-calls @nb26fort @wcnorris @vellicora @mac-daddy-210 @hiraethrhapsody @losore-prone @gills-lounge @enrapturedbythemoon @formula1mount @mightiestheroes @cherry-piee @chezmardybum @whodis-26 @mortallyblueninja @f1mockingjay @dance-the-painting

[lotusnleaves]

WHATS NOT TO LOVE?

— ᴾᵃᶦʳᶦⁿᵍ: ᴳⁿᵎᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᴱ¹⁶¹⁰ᵎᵀᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍˢᵗᵃᵍᵉᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ

— ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ: "ᵂᴴᴬᵀˢ ᴺᴼᵀ ᵀᴼ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ" ᴾᵃʳᵗ ². ᴱ¹⁶¹⁰ᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵍᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵘʸˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᶠᶠᶦᶜᶦᵃˡ.

—ᴬ/ᴺ:ᴰᵉᶠ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵉⁿᵃᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴱ⁴²ᵎ ᴴᶜ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᶜ ᶦ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶦᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ᵇᵒᵘᵗᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᶦˢ "ᵂʰᵃᵗˢ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵀᵒ ᴸᵒᵛᵉ" ᶦᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵏᵏᵏ. ᴵᵗˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵉᶦʳᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᴴᶜ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵒᵒⁿ ♡

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who will always always, let you nap on him during your study halls or free periods and any other class you cant get through. Especially if he knows you had one of those real restless sleepless nights. He'll even write down the notes for you so your not behind when you wake up he's just sweet like that.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles Miles's who a couple months into your situationship realises your obsessed with his smell. The faint aroma of his coconut and mango scented hair products, all the way down to his subtle cologne. Sooo that in mind, he'll purposely leave a hoodie or T-shirt of his somewhere he knows you'll find it and your endlessly appreciative he doesn't think your a weirdo for liking that kinda thing.

And while we still on the topiccc.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who hears you complain to a friend that non of the clothes he let you borrow smell like him anymore. So when he's at your place and you're distracted he's taking items of clothing and returning em days later smelling fully of him again.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who would draw you ALL the time you were his muse. Whether you were doing homework, watching TV or literally just existing, Miles had a rough sketch of it all. Though the craziest part was you didn't take notice for months only when you asked to see his work, and he hesitantly pushed his black sketchbook to you clearly embarrassed did you think something was off. You flipped through and saw your face on every other page you were shocked and he did NOT have an explanation.

"...." "Miles what—" " A'ight pass that back"

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who knows your forgetful so he's always prepared to lend you whatever you couldn't remember this time. Forgot lunch? he's got snacks No note book? there's a spare in his bag forgot the homework? He's already handing you the extra one he does just in case this happens. If you wear glasses and you regularly forget or misplace them he's narrating the board to you and correcting the things you misread.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who has had secret beef with your stuff animals since the time he overheard you say you love them more than him so now every time he comes over he just has to harass 'em a lil. You'd tell him crap like "Miles don't be mean to them this is their room too" or "Quit abusing my babies before i lock you're ass out". He can be somewhat civil with them when your around but as soon as you leave he's intimidating your teddy bear snuggles, and you gotta scold him from downstairs"

"Ay man i'on know what kinda game you playin' but—" "MILES LEAVE THEM ALONE BEFORE I COME UP THERE"

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles is so good with kids its crazy but he gets so nervous around children and tries to avoid them. Which make's it even funnier that they naturally gravitate to him." They're attracted to his art that's always bright with colour and his goofy personality, plus he always has candy on him and you think it's so weird. One time he came with you to pick up your younger sibling from school and you step away for a minute when you come back it's to see a crowd of 4 year old's circling a distressed miles.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who is constantly showing you how much he cares. Regularly takes you out on platonic dates taking you to the Fun Fair, movie nights, or painting together in the park. Always remembers to plan something for your birthday like months in advance and this was all prior to a romantic relationship. He was always raising the bar for how you should be treated even before you started dating.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who's admiration for you only grows when you see his selection of limited edition collectable's and treat them with the respect they deserve (P.s you NEVER rip the packaging). Your especially careful around them and when Mile's lets you hold one of the figurines you treat it like a literal baby. You think that it's a cool hobby of his and know they'll be worth a lot in the future. You lost your shit when Miles told you what Gwen did to one of them.

"......" "Tell me you're joking Miles..."

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who gets involved and supports everything you do and if your into makeup he'll volunteer to be your model everytimee. Although the glitter and sticky shit you put on his face isn't all that comfortable nothing make's him happier than seeing you happy and if he has to get all glamified to do that he cool with it.

TAGS:

@sangwoosbsf

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Incandescent Grace

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic abuse, toxic familial relationships, blood, gore, death, self blaming, depression, manipulation, suicidal ideation, the usual Catharsis warnings

Notes: Alexa play Beautiful Boy by John Lennon

It had happened so fast. A second ago, you were narrowly dodging a glass plate being launched at your head. Your father had had a bad day at work. A common occurrence.

To make things worse, he and your mother were in the middle of an argument. You had been tiptoeing across a rope suspended over a blazing fire. It was only natural it would snap from the heat.

Your fingers were trembling, heart racing as your father neared you, screaming about how this was your fault. Everything was your fault. But this time, he was taking it a bit far, grabbing a shard of the broken plate and nearing you.

You were scared. Terrified.

Why you?

The question rang in your head.

What did you do to deserve this?

Everything around you sounded muffled, as if you were underwater. Vision blurry with tears as your father only got closer. Muscles tensed as you braced yourself for the pain.

You didn't deserve this.

You didn't deserve any of this.

The pain, the hurt, the tears, the fear. Everything. It was all because of these people.

Your parents. The people that were supposed to protect you. To love you. Your mothers words rang in your head.

"We do this because we love you."

Was this... love? How would you define it? Was love the feeling of your father's belt against your skin? The feeling of your mother's nails digging into your arms? Was it the way they'd lock you away for days as punishment before pulling you out. Holding and telling you how much they loved you. How they only did it because they cared. Because they wanted the best for you.

If this was love, you didn't want it. You didn't want them.

You had seen children walking around with her parents. Smiling so brightly, giggling as their parents played with them, held them, cared for them, comforted them when they cried.

You used to sit in the park for hours. Watching them. Wondering if your parents would love you like that if you acted more like those children.

You remembered how hard you tried. The flowers, the letters, all ending up dead, in pieces, all over their floor. Your mother calling them useless, frail things. She didn't need them. She didn't need you. Neither did your father. They were being kind, taking care of you. Or so they claimed.

Everything they did. They said it was to make you stronger. But you were a child. You didn't need to become stronger. You needed to be safe.

You remembered watching a cartoon when you were younger.

You remembered seeing a child held hostage by the bad guys. You remembered how the child was saved by a hero, a man shrouded in light. And that gave you hope. Maybe someone could save you too.

A hero. A saviour. Someone big and strong. Someone who's very existence would let you know everything would be OK. That you'd be OK.

And so, as your father neared, you prayed. You remembered a blurry face, a teacher at your preschool. God always answered the prayers of good kids. Or so she claimed.

For once in your life, you prayed for a miracle. For someone, anyone, something, anything.

Your mind wandered back to the hero in that cartoon. An angel may be too much, but you hoped a hero wasn't. He didn't have to be big or strong. He just had to be able to help you. You didn't mind anything. Anyone. As long as someone saved you from this.

What you hadn't realised was that your prayer would be answered in the worst way.

In a split second, everything changed.

Suddenly, there was blood on your face, and you were met with your father's head rolling across the floor, landing at your feet.

There it was. The monster under your bed. The one your parents refused to believe existed. The one that had caused their fight and would now seemingly cause their demise.

You had never seen it whole before. Used to the murky, spiderlike arms, clawed fingers, and sets of red eyes. But this, this beast, this demon, whatever it was, could only be described as your worst nightmare come true.

You were frozen in time. Sick to your stomach, but numb. Feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

You could only watch as your mother tried to fight off the monster, her screams deafening, eyes wide in terror.

It was then that something clicked. The monster under your bed had 4 eyes. But this one had 2. So where were the other 2?

Your heart dropped, watching as a large clawed hand ripped through your mother's torso. There they were. The second set of eyes. There were two monsters.

You could only watch as the monsters began to devour your parents' bodies, blood soaking your carpet, seeping across the wooden floors until it reached you. You then realised that this was it. You would die right here right now. This was where it would all end. This was the deliverance you had hoped for so many times.

You didn't fight when one of the monsters came to you, fingers brushing your arms, your back against the wall. All you could do was pray it wouldn't be too painful.

As its claws dug into your legs, you were reminded of your father. When you were still young. When he used to read your bedtime stories and hold you and sing to you. Perhaps that was also a form of love?

You wondered what had changed. Was it you? Was it him? Was it simply chance? Bad luck? Just what had happened?

You couldn't fight the tears. Mourning not only the life you lived but the life you'd now lose. How pathetic were you? Despite everything, you still didn't want to die.

You wanted to live.

It was then that an unfamiliar feeling overwhelmed your body, a faint feeling of warmth enveloping you, a faint teal glow. It surrounded your hand that had lied on the beast's head, pushing it away futilely.

With a great scream, your ears ringing in pain at the noise, where the beast once was, laid a large chunk of Phosphophyllite.

Your heart stopped. Were your eyes deceiving you? Was this some sort of entrance right to the afterlife?

The other beast seemed as startled as you, moving away in what you assumed to be fear. You reached out, hand lying on the chunk of stone. Had you done this? Was this you? Just what was this?

Suddenly, the gem glowed and your were filled with a cold so great, almost freezing and a pain so sharp, you couldn't breathe.

You screamed, blooding pouring from your lips, your nostrils, your ears, your eyes, writhing in agony on the floor.

You felt like a thousand knives were dissecting every nerve in your body. A chill so cold it burned overtaking you.

Please please please. Someone, anyone, help me. It hurts, it hurts so bad. Please make it go away. Please please please.

You were barely conscious, eyes half closed as you tried to fight the pain away.

Suddenly, you were enveloped by a white glow. Something seemingly defeating the other monster.

You felt a pair of hands scoop you up, large, strong, warm. So warm. So bright.

A voice. Soft, low, kind. Tears began to fall from your eyes.

"You'll be OK. Just focus on breathing."

You blinked rapidly, attempting to focus on it. You took deep breaths, the warmth of whoever was holding you slowly making the pain go away.

You inhaled deeply, the pain dulling to a sting under your skin. You felt warm, so warm. The kind of warmth you hadn't felt in years.

Your vision began to clear momentarily, and you were met with your hero. Your saviour.

Blue eyes, beautiful, sparkling, like the sky. When was the last time you had seen the sky?

White hair, bright and clean, like pure snow. When was the last time you had been outside?

Strong hands, gentle hands, cradling you against a hard chest, voice ridden with concern and comfort.

An angel. This had to be an angel. This man, whoever he was, had to be the deliverance you had been praying so hard for.

You fought to keep your eyes open, blinking up at the man as you began to sob.

"It's all over. You're safe now. Don't worry. It's OK, you're OK."

Something in you couldn't help but believe this stranger's words as they echoed in your head. You felt that as long as you were with him, everything would be OK. You'd be OK.

On that fateful fight when you thought you'd lost everything, you had found something you had long stopped searching for.

Salvation.

That unknown man was a symbol of peace, of safety, your second chance sent by a deity. A dove landing on the ark you had been stranded on.

As your vision faded, fatigue overcoming your being, something in you knew, as long as you had him, you'd be fine.

After all, he was your saviour. And unbeknownst to you, that night as he carried you to safety, he had sworn to never let anything like that happen to you ever again.

You were a child after all, and he vowed to keep you safe.

[grandlinedreams]

omfg i did not realize ur requests were open! You're my favorite one piece writer!!!! The way you write the characters especially Law feels so canon huhu

Since Law seems to have a knack for picking up strays and taking them under his wing, may i request something platonic for Law which includes him encountering someone that reminds him of himself when he was young? Someone young and hurt and so so angry at the world, teeth bared, until someone showed them gentleness? Someone who loves like a feral dog, biting in defence when someone tries to pet it? (is it obvious i love dog references in regards to love yet?? lol).

He takes them in and they become deeply loyal to him, always following his shadow and being protective. Law gave them a home and taught them to love while Reader heals a part of Law's inner child because Law gets to help someone the way he wished to be helped as a child.

It all circles back to what Cora did for Law really. Instead of creating a cycle of abuse, its a cycle of love and care.

Thank you!!

Hiya papaya!! I'm honored to be a favorite but also I really hope that I can do this justice for you bc that's such a neat concept :(

[Heads up!: platonic relationship, some angst, more a little delve into Law as a person, Dressrosa/Law backstory spoilers]

You remind Law of himself as a kid.

Were he anyone else, it might have been a fond sentiment, wrapped in sugared memories ㅡ but no. You remind Law of himself because he understands what you're going through perhaps more than anyone.

The sullen expression and white knuckled fists, bloodied fingers and bruised skin, testifying to your wild animal ferocity in the face of a world that's been far crueler than it needs to be ㅡ he knows.

He was you, all those years ago.

And he knows exactly what will happen if he leaves you like this. He knows someone will slink out of the shadows, whisper poisoned words in your ear, sharpen your fangs and claws against the wrong people in the name of what they think is good.

He won't let that happen to someone else, not if he can help it. He feels like he owes it to Corazon, owes it to you ㅡ and owes it to himself, just a little bit.

He has absolutely no idea how this will go, but he wants to try.

ㅡ

"Why did you help me?"

The question stops Law in his tracks, finding you watching him, eyes dark and wary of the answer. You're undoubtedly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make demands of you, set a debt to be paid back.

He knows it'll take more time before those claws truly retract, before you stop jumping at shadows and holding everything at arms length. But you're trying too, he knows that. (Bepo told him about the other day, when you'd asked Ikkaku a thousand questions about the internals of the Polar Tang, drinking in every word.)

"Because I know what it's like to lose everything." His voice is soft and low, hopes you won't lash out and demand to know what he knows of loss ㅡ because he knows plenty. It wreathes his entire existence like smoke, trailing tendrils into every aspect of who he is. "I know what it's like to be angry."

To ask why, over and over, desperate for answers from gods who choose to remain deaf and blind to those pleas. The world is hardly fair, deals cruel hands in spades and cares little for the aftermath.

"It's not fair." Your voice is a knife blade, aimed to sink into the softest parts. "What did I do to deserve this? Why am I being punished? What am I supposed to do?"

He remembers asking that, too. If he and his town were cursed, if they'd done something wrong to be taken by either disease or people afraid of them. He remembers being angry, that he'd gladly have let it swallow him whole, let himself blaze with it until it hollowed him, left him as a charred testament to who he'd once been.

But Cora ㅡ Cora, who'd owed him nothing, not when Law had sank that knife into him, hoping to kill him ㅡ had doused those flames. Put them out, raked over smoldering coals, refused to let him burn out the way he wanted to. Cora hadn't let him give up, and he's not going to let you either.

"You live," Law says. "I'm not saying that it'll stop hurting, or that the anger goes away entirely. But you take it and you find reasons to live."

"...I don't want to live for myself." Voice tiny, you curl in on yourself, shoulders trembling. "I want my family back. I just want to see them again."

He's no good at this, just as awkward as Cora had been, both men from broken homes and troubled pasts ㅡ both trying to ensure someone else didn't fall down the wrong path.

Warmth drapes over your shoulders, the tickle of feathers at your neck ㅡ and a hand on your head, trying to comfort.

"Then you live for them," he says. "Until you can find a reason to live for yourself, you live for them."

[foressfaction]

Toby and Clockwork

some headcanon takes on this relationship platonically and romantically

Mentions of Abuse and Self inflicted harm

Details of their stories

I'm just going to get straight into it and say right now that they have known eachother since they were still in school. If it's true that Toby had begun homeschooling when he just turned 16 that would put him right at the end of freshman year (his birthday being in April)

This being said, they would've seen each other around for a good..3 years maybe? Attending the same school since primary. Natalie found interest in him first, finding out that he also took a liking to drawing and doodling. It had never occurred to her what kind of kid he was or his social status until maybe 8th grade. (they'd both be 15 with some months apart)

Natalie never wanted to approach him since she had always struggled with making friends and interacting in general but always found his existence almost aspiring. It wasn't until later down the road that Toby would begin to also begin taking notice of her and her interests when she'd be getting picked on aloud for it occasionally.

Both of them were extremely awkward, too nervous to ever make the first interaction and actually get close to maybe becoming friends. This of course disregarding everything going on at home for the two, as personal business was usually kept to themselves unless brought out some other way.

They two never actually interacted until they began to share classes and eventually school work. Natalie definitely let him copy off her homework and he'd usually bring her cool drawings or nick nacks from the woods near his house. Eventually bumping into each other in the same woods a few times. (turns out they live in the same area) both were lower class families so it wasn't a surprise that they lived so close, it was maybe a 10 minute walk to each other's house, even faster on bike. Natalie had a bike actually, and she used it all the time just to drive by his house on it to see if he'd be looking out of the window like she'd catch him doing it from time to time. It wasn't long till she was introduced to Lyra and his mother. Natalie never did get suspicious about the lack of mention for his father. And he never questioned her about her own parents either. I just know they definitely went down to the local library and would just randomly pull out books that have a silly name or cover image just to sit and make fun of scenes or the idea of it. (i feel they would absolutely eat up the world record books and your mom joke comics)

It was like when they were together time had stopped and nothing mattered anymore.

Sadly though of course we know what happens, as they grew older they fell apart due to Toby becoming homeschooled and Natalie having to move to a new house due to the poor condition of her older one. He stopped seeing her ride down his street, seeing her in the woods, she wasn't able to contact him due to not having access to his landline phone and (since this was back in the 90s which is my personal take,) communication was extremely hard for them. Toby began to assume that she just didn't care for him anymore and that she moved on. He hadn't known she was moving as she was just too sad to tell him, and hoped that he would find out some other way, which ended up backfiring back onto her as now he had no idea what had happened, and now assumes that she hates him.

After his sister passed, memories of Natakie began to fade one by one until eventually he didn't even remember her name. He had developed memory problems, only worsening with each day. She doesn't exist to him at this current moment.

During this time was when he was the most vulnerable, the most in need of a friend.

Natalie wasn't doing all too well either, her situation at home and the constant neglect and anger she was facing only made her spiral down a dark oath. Almost identically tied with Toby’s. It was the same force, the same drive and motive speaking to them. By now we know the story, murder the parents and run away.

It really wasn't till years later (specifically 2 years) they finally ran into each other again, but the memories are gone, nothing but malice and sorrow filled their hearts.

I like to think they first met again with a good fight. Toby ended up ‘winning’ this said fight only to the surprise of Nat that he cannot feel physical pain. This interested her to the point of just calling the duel off and began to ask a ton of questions. Toby found her curiosity almost amusing and led both himself and her down a rabbit hole of the forest and why he's here (what he remembers at least) and she occasionally spits out a bit of her own story (also from what she remembers)

The questions were related to her eye, why weapon choice, favorite color. Cheesy shit. He mostly asked the cheesy shit….

It was obvious the two lacked communication skills.

And we just start over from there.. If anything was destined to be together, it was these two. (platonically or romantic, take that as you please. )

Now as for my actual headcanons for their shipped relationship? Based on the canon art I've seen of them, they seem nothing more than just a regular couple, honestly. Millennial humor, matching couple shirts,probably crack horrible jokes they don't even remember reading or learning about. We can't forget that this was an actual healthy relationship. Yeah they're both psychotic and murderers but I see them more as anti heroes. Even though they did unspeakable things, Nat just does it out of spite and anger, not actually meaning to ruin anything, having bad borderline spirals and manic episodes while on Toby’s end, he's completely forced to do it until his body cannot stand anymore. They see humanity in each other and are the light and entertainment they both crave.

And man Toby entertains the absolute shit out of Natalie. He would have her naming different types of plants and tree bark, would once more surprise her with his silly little finds like random ass reptiles and animal skulls. He actually gave her a crow skull that she keeps as a necklace. He always said it suited her style. Keep in mind this is all still as them being friends.

They never actually understood what love actually was, and what it meant for the normal everyday person, but they sure showed in. Her live language is physical touch and affection while his was overall the same just also gifts and names. He was a typical loser just trying to remain relevant and liked while she was also just trying to hold onto the little bit of sanity she had left, and he was a good reason to sometimes calm down.

Now of course they had their bad moments where she would let the anger take control and begin to act like a mean old boss at a minimum wage job. It didn't help that Toby was a snarky person and made remarks that only made her even more mad.

“You're literally doing it wrong and it's going to screw everything up!”

“oh please, that's your OCD talking.”

There were occasions where she would get physically violent and throw things at Toby. She actually bloodied his forehead after throwing one of her daggers right at him, being lucky it actually didn't take him out.

These manic episodes usually ended in her apologizing profusely. He never questioned her behavior because he was so used to being mistreated that he only found it to be normal, and always resorted to the question of if he deserved it. Yeah sometimes the mither fucker did deserve it but at the same time.

With Toby however he had just enough willpower to never truly hurt Nat but he would gesture to doing so occasionally when they're having an argument. He'd raise his weapons as if he were to strike or would ball up his fists. He never did lay a violent hand on Nat no matter how angry she would make him or how angry he already was. He's the type of person to completely shut the world out when upset, which was good on her end.

This was for when they were angry however when feeling emotional, like sad for example. He'd want the opposite. His behavior is like how people stereotype most women to be. He'll say he wants to be left alone but throw a fit if you actually did. When he's in this state it's actually dangerous to leave him alone without a distraction. His mind begins to wander and therefore results in a gory mess. He'd unintentionally self harm by chewing at his hands or scratching himself with sharp objects. There's been many times where Nat had to stop him from doing so, both being in tears. She has a past with self harm, which is why she did what she did to her own face, but to see someone she started to genuinely care about do it brought out a whole new side to her.

In short, they're both still internally just kids wanting to survive but on the outside they had to appear tough and ready for anything or else deemed useless and pathetic..

It wasn't until Toby began to question the relationship that it truly became romantic honestly. He knew some things but still did jot grasp the full concept of love. He would tease Nat constantly, flirting if you'd like to call it, and she'd return this behavior, catching him off guard and embarrassing him. This was probably the peak of their relationship.

“So what's it like constantly ticking?”

“i can ask you the same thing”

“shut the fuck up”

I feel they'd constantly play fight, aggressive love language??? Technically one would straight out insult the other but in a playful way while the other wouldn't seem offended but return the same energy. They would definitely do random shit.

It would be a normal busy day and Toby just points out a random squirrel, and if Nat looks at it, he just tackles her. He definitely gets stimmy to the point he would have the human equivalent to zoomies. He'd randomly start love bombing her and hugging her for long amounts of time. He also sometimes does this if he wants something…so it's hard to tell sometimes.

Nat doesn't like the bread crust but Toby would eat that just alone, so i feel like after peeling the crust off her fuckin sandwich she would just out the off in a whole new plate just for him. He eats that shit up every time too.

Nat: “you're so difficult just eat the peanut butter with jelly– that's what NORMAL people do”

Toby:“i hate jelly you know this :(“

Nat: “oh my god give me the damn sandwich.you only peanut butter eating bitch”

[danggirlronpa]

If it's not too much trouble, do you have headcanons for Kotoko/Monaka? I like to imagine post-canon they work out their issues with each other and get to a much healthier place, like, when they're teenagers. I related a lot to Kokoto's toxic relationship with Monaka, I definitely had relationships like that when I was in elementary school too. It's kind of nice to imagine a world where - whether romantically or platonically - they work out their issues and work out, even if that might not be exactly realistic, aha...

Oh MAN do I have post-canon Warriors of Hope headcanons. I really do love imagining these kids and the lives they lead when they come of age.

I try not to use read mores, but this one got way longer than the usual headcanon posts, and it very much is less "Kotoko/Monaca headcanons" and more "elaborate set-up for how Kotoko and Monaca feel about their crimes as teenagers." So more under the cut I guess!

Firstly, some setup. I love adoptive family relationships, and especially mother/child adoptive relationships. So of course I love daydreaming about Aoi "Bleeding Heart" Asahina adopting Kotoko, and it becoming a Kyoko (or Miaya!)/Hina-parenting-Kotoko, friends-to-moms slowburn. SOMEONE'S adopting these children, and it's not Komaru "I Just Spent A Full Year In Solitary Isolation (:" or the "We Taser Ourselves To Decide Whether The Serial Killer Fronts (:" Fukawas. Hina's upbeat, she keeps it light, and unlike Makoto "Spotless" Naegi, she understands the guilt of attempting/committing mass murder. Kyoko isn't quite any of that but deep in my heart. Through The Power Of Love And Elaborate Metaphors About Her Relationship To Her Father

And I mean. I'm going to be honest. Monaca's, like, 10. She spends three days in space before she goes 1. Wow this sucks 2. I did not in fact prepare enough materials to live like this indefinitely. I'm like 10. I packed enough for about 13 hours and thought I was good Forever. I need more marshmallows.

So it takes Monaca all of half a week to admit her failures and crash land somewhere on earth. The island with the Remnants? Misaki and Takumi? In-universe versions of the V3 students as adults? Personally I'm a fan of Yasuhiro and Kanon adopting her in the world's absolute weirdest fantasy. What matters is SOMEONE finds her. And we get Mod Loves Sappy Adoptive Relationships V2: Now With The Green One.

Because listen. Listen. These are kids. They have committed heinous, unforgivable crimes of extreme ethical concern, and they are also ten years old. Their only frame of ethical reference is a manipulator and abuser so good at what she does that she ended the world. People generally remember this with the other Warriors, but they almost always set it aside for Monaca, so I want to be clear: Monaca Towa is redeemable. Because she was 10 years old, and the moment she was out from under the thumb of the people who taught her how to do these cruel and unusual things, her first plan was Run Away To Space To Escape The Things That Have Happened Here. They're children.

THAT MEANS A LOT OF GUILT. NO ONE HAS EVER NOT BECOME A PUDDLE OF REGRET ABOUT SOMETHING THEY DID IN MIDDLE SCHOOL.

In general, I actually think Kotoko struggles with guilt the least amongst the Warriors. Firstly, I think having a parent who understands and can help her come to grips with what she's done from a very personal place really helps her work through it. But I also think Kotoko is low-empathy in general. I think eventually, she comes to understand intellectually what she's done wrong, but I don't think she ever struggles with the idea that she shouldn't have done it. I think she would be very practical about the circumstances that she was in, and in her mind, well. What else was she supposed to do? She'd been abused all her life. She was up against Junko Enoshima. Obviously what she did was wrong, but any other kid in that situation would've, in Kotoko's mind, done the same.

On the other hand, I believe Monaca would get hit with guilt very intensely once she finally processed everything she'd been through at high-school age, but that she would absolutely keep that under wraps and act as though it was meaningless to her.

Monaca is, in my opinion, a compulsive liar. You can see that in a lot of canonical ways, but I choose to extend it a bit to headcanons - it's not that she Doesn't need a wheelchair, it's that she has days when she needs it and days when she doesn't, and pretending she never needed it at all gives people a huge shock. She didn't plan to not kill herself with the rest of the Warriors as a prank; she really planned to do it, but people look at her when she says that. It's a defensive mechanism, and a method of feeling in control. At least I can choose for them to hate me by lying and being terrible, instead of being hated when I haven't done anything.

So I think, when she is finally faced with the enormity of what she has done, Monaca does what her first instinct is always to do: runs away from it and lies herself into culpability. Of course I killed all those terrible adults, and now that I'm almost their age, I'll just die instead of becoming one of them! That sort of thing. I think she traps herself into her own persona, no matter how hard she tries to improve, because Monaca is a child who internalizes until she breaks.

So when Kotoko and Monaca meet coincidentally at high-school age. Ho boy. Kotoko who still sort-of blames Monaca who blames herself, and neither of them completely aware of how to comfort a person or how to hate a person in a way that isn't lethal...oh the GROWTH. The Strawberry Wine by Deana Carter of it all

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

QP Movie Mike x Vanessa headcanons cuz I'm unwell abt them

-After the events of the movie and after she comes to in the hospital, she goes to live wit' Mike and Abby, cuz her old house holds too many bad memories for her

-Vanessa is like the cool aunt to Abby, and kinda like a mother figure for her as well (fuck Aunt Jane, all my homies hate Aunt Jane-)

-While Mike and Vanessa's relationship is completely platonic, people unsurprisingly think they're an item, much to their confusion

-Vanessa sometimes has bad anxiety attacks due to putting up with William's abuse for so long, an' Mike is the only one who knows how to effectively calm her down

-Thanks to the events of the movie, they're both kinda lowkey scared of lettin' each other out of their sight, mostly Mike cuz of Vanessa gettin' stabbed by William

-They sometimes fall asleep on the couch wit' each other, and don't remember until the next morning when Abby comes wakin' 'em up

-Vanessa is in therapy to help with the PTSD an' trauma she has thanks to the years of William's abuse, and Mike regularly attends sessions with her

-Mike is handlin' what happened slightly better since he finally knows who took his little brother, an' the missing kids inadvertently knocked some sense into him to stop focusin' on the past, and worry about what's happening now, so he tries to help Vanessa on her road to recovering from her trauma, both mental an' physical, in any way he can

-They like to hold hands as much as possible when out in public, cuz they feel secure with each other

-Mike acts as Vanessa's fake "boyfriend" to scare off creeps, since Vanessa can't really taze 'em when off duty

-Vanessa has her own room in the house, but mostly ends up accidentally falling asleep with Mike in his room

-Mike tries to help Vanessa with her hair in the mornings sometimes, keyword is "tries"

-Mike always looks like a mess when he wakes up in the morning, while Vanessa looks perfectly normal

-Mike is bi, an' Vanessa's pan so not different from my main FNaF AU

-Vanessa can, an' will fight you if she hears you talkin' bad about either of them, Mike havin' to talk her down

-Sometimes after a long day at the station Vanessa will just put her face in Mike's chest, an' just let out a tired groan while Mike jus' awkwardly stands there and pats her back

-Vanessa bullies Mike about his bad luck gettin' a date

-They're love language is physical contact, an' they feel connected due to their trauma, so they like to be touchin' each other as much as possible in any way

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side B

Rät - Penelope Scott

"And the worst part is I loved you, I loved you I loved you it's true And sometimes I feel like I still fucking do I lived here, I loved here I thought it was true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused"

Therefore You and Me - TadanoCo / E ve cover

English translation taken directly from multiple animatics

" 'You are love itself!' Therefore You and me, you and me, you and me Love, love As a result of loving, As a result of forgetting You and me, you and me, you and me Love, love As a result of acquiring, As a result of losing"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

Rät - Penelope Scott

Propaganda:

not only is the song a banger and a half, it fits SO MANY FOLKS SO WELL and was the song for my first full animatic, though not with the character I thought I was gonna make it for initially ^^; it's about losing faith in those you idolize. it's about kids who grew up and realized this isn't what they wanted. it's about how hard it is to let go despite all that because you still care or see them as good. it's about trying to be like those you look up to and finding out too late what that means. (...in my case, this is a song about what happens when a program is too human and expected not to act as such or lash out when hurt. this is a song about a teenager who was left believing his father betrayed him and was left wanting to hurt those he once held in such high regard.)

It’s a good song and I’ve seen LOADS of animatics of it

Animatics with the song:

The Owl House

Amphibia Swap AU

DSMP

The Promised Neverland

Ace Attorney

Therefore You and Me - TadanoCo / E ve cover

Propaganda:

Me when ANY TWO CHARACTERS. Me when THEM. Also it can work for platonic, familial, romantic, more than two people, there’s a lot of flexibility.

Not only is it VOCALOID and... HATSUNE MIKU!!! but it's also a wonderful song about love that can be interpreted different ways. It makes for many possible relationships being able to be depicted in animatics because of it. It's epic and it's awesome, and honestly? It's iconic. Don't know how or why but it is.

The animatics often portray how two characters have strained/deteriorating relationships with the lyrics speaking of items that are considered lonely without their counterparts and it really hits (also the Eve cover of the song is really good)

Animatics with the song:

Detroit Become Human

Trigun

The Stanley Parable

OMORI

Homestuck

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Please keep in mind that I don't know all the media and fandoms of the animatics provided as examples and I don't have the time (nor the will) to research them all. Don't come into my notes or my ask box complaining about them being included, I will simply block you. If a ship animatic included is about an adult and a minor, do tell me and I'll take it out of the post

ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

[balloon-garden]

✧.•°{RULES}°•.✧

✧1: 18+

We will be publishing smut, so no kids. Anyone without an age in their description will be blocked.

✧2: Be polite, and patient

We are busy beings who have a lot going on in our lives. We may need breaks, and we're writing for ourselves and for each other.

Being nasty towards the mods will get an instant block.

✧3: Give details, we will ignore simple asks that give us nothing to work with.

Anything too vague or "F/O x (Something)! Reader" or "(Something)!F/O X reader" are not enough.

We like freedom but we need ideas and a plot to work with.

✧4: Time limits are a no go

We made this blog to make things for each other, so unless you're paying us, then we're going to block you

✧5: We will only answer requests through the ask feature.

Do not ask in DMs, we will ignore and delete the conversation.

✧6: Will not accept any fandoms that are NOT listed

Look below, as the fandoms will be at the bottom. We will delete requests like this.

✧7: Too many details lead to things getting cut out or something that's not quite what you requested

Too many details might get some cut out. whether it be because they don't make sense, make the story jumbled, or maybe we have an idea that works with the request and it just gave us different inspiration.

It happens!

Remember, these are REQUESTS, not commissions, if we had to cut stuff out or inspiration takes us elsewhere, we'll tell you at the start.

You can always write for yourself. We don't take offense to that.

✧8: Ocs and Readers

We will not write for ocs, but we will write for readers

✧9: Edit or drawing requests

These will be things we will be picky about, but we might get inspired or have some fun with your requests

✧10: Pay attention if we're Closed or Open

Any requests that are sent while closed will be deleted.

✧.•°CAN DOS°•.✧

✧Platonic/Familial; Can be adults or children with an adult and rookie(and other staged) Digimon

✧Romance; Only adults and non-feral monsters

✧Queer; Bi/Pan, Ace, Poly, etc.

✧Sex; Female, Male, Nonbinary, and Trans, all are welcome

We don't mind neopronoun stuff too 👍

✧POC; Everyone is welcomed here

✧Disabilities; we have disabilities ourselves

✧AU's/crossovers; We can be picky though

Might be selective about it, but if you explain it to us, we'll likely try!

✧Crackships/Ships; Picky

Can be fun, but we might not have any ideas or may feel uncomfortable with some

✧ Yanderes/Tsunderes/Derederes/etc.; slightly picky.

depends on if it might fit the character. incredibly unlikely to do the "kills your family" type tropes for Yandere's unless it's a character we could genuinely see doing such things

✧TROPES/TAGS✧

✧ Fluff; Cuddles, dates, X

✧ Angst; (Picky) X, X

✧ Domestic

✧ Post-Canon/Pre-Canon/Mid-Canon/Bad Ending/etc.

✧ Redemption/Redemption Arc

✧ Roomates

✧ Mutual Pining

✧ Friends/Enemies to Lovers

✧NSFW✧

✧ Bondage; Rope, strapped down, cuffs, benches, Stocks, stuck

✧ Size play; Big top and small Sub—Big Sub and Small Top

✧ Creampies

✧ Body worship

✧.•°WILL NOT DO°•.✧

✧ Cancer; Of any kind, just won't do

✧ Kidnappings; No partners, readers, children, pets, or friend kidnappings

✧ Aging up characters

✧ Alpha/Omega/Beta

✧ Real life people; Actors, singers, just no irl people

✧ Gore

✧Self harm/Eating disorders

✧ Fetishizing Disorders of any kind

✧TROPES/TAGS✧

✧ Hospitals/Life threatening situations; Surgeries, crashes, abortions, etc

✧ Pregnancy/Birth; Female and Mpreg, Just won't

✧ Cheating; We promote healthy relationships 👍

✧ Abuse; Emotional, physical, etc.

✧ No Whump/Death fics

✧ Highschool AU

✧ Coffee Shop AU

✧ Divorce

✧ Love at first Sight

✧ Fake Relationship/Fake Dating

✧SHIPS✧

✧

✧

✧

✧

✧NSFW✧

✧ Underage; Anyone under 18 or considered underage for a race/species wil not be tolerated, yes, we will check

✧ Ageplay

✧ Petplay

✧ r@pe/general SA

✧ incest

✧ Ferals or sentient animals

✧ Feet

✧ Guro; Gore, missing limbs, etc

✧ Hentai; Ahegao faces, X

✧ Unrealistic sex; any hyper stuff [iykyk], impossible fits

✧ Certain fetish things; Vore, Inflation, etc

✧ Body fluids; Piss, shit, and vomit

(Will be added to as needed)

✧ If we are uncomfortable with an ask, we will delete it and may block you✧

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✧.•°{Mutual Fandoms}°•.✧

✧ Fandoms listed are ones we are okay to be requested from. We may post for fandoms that aren't listed here, and are stuff for the mods, that we were willing to share✧

✧ Creepypasta/Slenderverse

✧ OFF

✧ Splatoon

✧ Digimon

✧ Monster Fucker stuff

✧ Ace Attorney

✧ Final Fantasy (6, 7, 10)

✧ Dungeon Meshi

✧ Trapped with Jester

✧ + Maybe more

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{Mirth Fandoms}

✧ Johnny the Homicidal Maniac [+ Vargas AU]

✧ Postal [1, 2, 4, + Brain Damaged] + Hatred

✧ Camp Camp

✧ BtD

✧ Slashers

✧ Homestuck/Hiveswap/Friendsim

✧ MDHM/John Doe/Lurking for Love/Frost Bite/SWwSDJ/etc.

✧ JJBA [Limited parts]

✧ Hetalia

✧ Osomatsu-San

✧ DDaDDS

✧ Faith : The Unholy Trinity

✧ + prolly other stuff too maybe

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{Mask Fandoms}

✧ Mortal Kombat 10 and 11

✧Read dead redemption 2

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[honey-minded-hivemind]

Some Marvel characters have very fricked up lives. Murdered parent/s, abusive parent/s, dead friend, abandonment, betrayed by someone trusted, experimented on, forced to be a weapon, used and abused by the government or group they were with, s*xual assa*lt (or worse), stalkers, paranoia, nightmares, loss of a child, drug addiction, becoming an alcoholic, having mental/emotional/physical/s*xual/spiritual trauma, mind controlled to hurt someone, the list goes on...

We know a lot of them have gone through a lot of these. But what about their bby? So I present here a possible variant of their bby (the reader):

Traumatized!Reader: Someone who can understand the cruelty of the world, perhaps was cruel themselves, but strives to be the good they wished they desperately had when they were helpless. Some things that could have happened, maybe all of them have (a few of these have happened to me, or people I know):

TW: mentions of s*icide, a snake, and d*ath

• Attacked by two dogs on two separate occasions, without anyone able to help (one was a pitbull)

• Loss of a trusted/loved adult to cancer

• Being bullied

• S*lf-h*rm

• Having someone unwanted knocking at your door every day for weeks on end, demanding things

• Suffering paranoia due to the aforementioned unwanted someone

• Trauma from that someone and the years suffered putting up with their behavior

• Someone breaking into your house (or trying to)

• Witnessing someone having a stroke and calling an ambulance for them

• Being betrayed (and manipulated from a young age) by someone you saw as family (by blood or otherwise)

• Being ignored by your peers to the point of isolation

• Taking care of newborn animals (born that day/night) and having them pass away on you despite everything you did to help them

• Having to put a loved pet to sleep

• Almost being drowned at a young age by two of your peers (the adults weren't close by, and the other kids were too busy playing)

• Had to deal with a drug addict who was a loved one (blood or otherwise)

• Almost had a parental relationship ruined by that betraying loved one's meddling (it didn't work, but for three whole days thought life was over. wasn't even a teenager yet)

• Told the truth, but the adult/s believed the lie over the truth

• Religious trauma

• Mentally manipulated/abused

• Emotionally manipulated/abused

• Stopped a young child from touching a wild snake

• S**cidal th**ghts

• Finding a pet poisoned

• Over twenty nightmares of your own death (at least three-four were about drowning)

And remember: if someone hurts you, that is NOT OK. And that you are loved.

Any platonic yandere would be ready to help you if you suffered from trauma, and some wouldn't mind finishing whatever was started. Out of the ones I've mentioned, some would be more inclined to let them off with a warning; others would use their power/influence to screw with their lives; and some would simply get rid of the problem... PERMANATELY, I might add. They love you, and hearing that someone like you was hurt in such a way makes them sick. Some of them have experienced trauma, too, and finding out their bby has dealt with their own problems rubs them the wrong way... a few can even see why their bby is so kind (at least to them): Traumatized!bby knows what it is like to crave help, to crave love, for anyone to reach out and see them and TRY. Is it any wonder their bby turned out to be the kindest person they know? All because they want to be the help they wished they had when they were hurting.

🩹❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍💖🩹

[colorisbyshe]

i really don’t want to read the seven husband of eleanor hugo but i want to know what happens. why is it so bad like i assumed it would be but i need to hear the exact specific shitty details!!! (if you don’t mind sharing)

*Evelyn Hugo, not Eleanor

(Scroll down to my TLDR section if this is too much)

But... to start off, I need to stay that it's written by a straight, white woman and it is about... a lot of women of color. And the "soulmate" relationship in the book is about a lesbian and a bisexual woman and the bisexual woman is best friends with a gay man.

So, the author is writing about a lot of things she doesn't... really have experience with. I've given my complicated opinion on "Own Voices" which is that it CAN be okay to write outside of your own identity but the onus is on you to get it very, very right. This book... doesn't.

But beyond it just handling race and sexuality HORRIBLY, including a weird line where a gay man admits to always ~a little bit~ wanting to sleep with the bisexual lead and the biracial interviewer admitting she preferred her white husband because he never made her feel like she wasn't black enough (which is VERY odd for a white author to throw in, it made me viscerally uncomfortable).

The book is just... not good. It is EVERY SINGLE "Old hollywood wasn't glamorous, you have to sleep your way to the top and sell your soul" cliche but like... updated to include gay people. The main character's first marriage has domestic violence and her "soulmate' relationship with teh lesbian has the EXACT same patterns of abuse except it's emotional abuse and not physical abuse nad it's just... excused as like? Oh, you know how she can get sometimes...

There's a weird plot where the lesbian is UPSET that her bisexual gf won't be out (WHILE THE LESBIAN GF IS ALSO CLOSETED) IN THE 60S. She's like "Okay, so we might be jailed or forcibly institutionalized and lose our careers, but if you REALLY LOVE ME, you won't be closeted" WHICH IS INSANE. ANd part of the patterns of abuse in the relationship.

The book is fucking boring. It's slog of cliches just mixed in with "But I love this woman so much" even though their love is never really established, just stated. And what we see is the abuse.

There's a VERY weird plot twist where the main character reveals the interviewer's (black) father didn't die from driving drunk. Instead, the black father wa sin a relationship with Evelyn's white gay best friend and the white gay best friend drove drunk, KILLED the dad, and Evelyn moved his dead body to make it seem liek her dad killed himself.

And she knew it was her dad because... he VERY conveniently wrote out a letter saying "I'm a dad, I love my kid, I am also gay for you, but my wife is my platonic soulmate. My name ___. I love you" and the white guy (WHO WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED HER DAD) had the ltter in his pocket?

A VERY weird contrivance.

More weirdness: the book stops, COMPLETELY, to go on SEVERAL like basic diatribes about how like bi erasure is bad, the word whore is used by men to control women, and other like... baby's first feminism lectures. And it feels SOOO proud of itself.

It also stops to be like "You know every historical event between the 50s and present day? Yeah, Evelyn was on the right side of hsitory EVERY time despite being money hungry, dehumanizing to other people, fairly fucking awful to her (Latina) staff, and never once mentioned her politics until the author remembered she was alive during stonewall and the AIDS crisis and that she needed to maek sure you knew Evelyn cared."

The injection of real world events kinda curdled my stomach. Also, the author made sure to say that it was MEN at the frontlines of Stonewall and it's like ???????????????????? Okay, work. Also, die maybe?

The characters are all horrible people but not evne in interesting ways. There's no like complex politics to it. There's not even real nuance to it. It's just like "Evelyn likes to use people but she had to, so it's okay." Which I could get with if she wasn't so otherwise FLAT.

Also, I know this isn't a well organized complaint list, but can I say it is INSANE that the ENTIRE book is about how Evelyn has HUUUGE honkers and htat's why everyone gravitates towards her or forgives her or wants to use her. And then she gets breast cancer and the interviewer thinks "Isn't it funny that the things that got her so far are killing her" and I knooow it's meant to be some like ironic twist of fate thing but idk... it really feels like misogyny. It feels like comeuppance or some weird shit and it made me UNCOMFORTABLE.

TO PUT IT BRIEFLY:

The book is insanely boring and cliche. It is every "Hollywood is SCARY" cliche ever but thinks it's differentiating itself by involving LGB people and people of color but, because it is written by a straight, white woman, it cannot do that well. Every time it tries to smugly diatribe about sexuality, gender, race, class it gets it wrong and makes you feel like you're slowly going insane.

No one cahracter is interesting. The main romance is abusive but doesn't know it's abusive, despite spending entire chapters on how ANOTHER relationship is abusive.

The book is soulless. Isn't particularly well written. Thinks it's smarter and more charming than it is. No one is likeable. No one is funny or sweet.

It runs on shock value but nothing is shocking. IT's the same stupid mistakes over and over again withou tanyone EVER realizing what the REAL mistakes are.

It's bad.

[nagirambles]

Hi do you do headcanons on crack / semi pairing ? If you do could I please request juvia x Gajeel please thank u if u don’t want to that total fine no worries, I just think their would have a healthy relationship UWU

Oh, I definitely do! Only when I have time tho, so sorry this took so long to reply to! ❤ 

Honestly, I agree! Their relationship, even in canon, is very healthy. That’s very ironic because they’re associated with two of the more ‘problematic’ big four with stalker/abusive allegations and all. Of course I mildly disagree with those, but it’s just rather interesting. 

So, I’ll head right into it! These can be interpreted as either platonic and romantic, whatever. 

Juvia and Gajeel. They were first matched together as a duo, not just because of similarities in age (we don’t know Gajeel’s, but Aria and Sol are definitely much older) but also because Juvia is quiet. it’s like a school teacher putting the troublemaker beside the quietest kid in class in hope he’ll behave, you know?

I like to think the DS all vaguely, if not instinctively, remember each other. So although Gajeel doesn’t remember Wendy, he does remember that anything little and blue and female must be protected, or the stupid pervert Vulcans will snatch them away when they’re not looking (they probably had to look out for Wendy before this, since she doesn’t know attack magic). Headcanon he also mildly associates this with Levy, but Juvia’s the first!

Gajeel latched right onto Juvia immediately because of that and decided to watched over her the moment she came in. He get spretty angry because she’s kind of airheaded and slow when it comes to self-preservation (her water/rain usually does it all defense for her, so she doesn’t know how to actively take care of herself.)

People usually consider Juvia gloomy and avoid her even in Phantom, but Gajeel doesn’t mind. He likes the taste of rust, and with Juvia around, there’s always plenty. He’s also in the gloomy category with iron and slums, so they match. 

Gajeel and Juvia take turns being ‘talks a lot’ and ‘listens’. Gajeel rambles a lot about music even though he’s awful at it, but Juvia grows to love his tone-deaf singing and eventually gets bad taste in music too. She likes things chaotic and muddled and nonsensical, because Gajeel talked about them with so much passion she couldn’t help but love it too. 

Neither Juvia nor Gajeel are ever too worried about each other when they go off alone. Juvia doesn’t think a natural disaster can possibly attempt to do any serious harm to Gajeel, and Gajeel would be more worried about what would happen to the ecosystem around Phantom Lord if Juvia loses a battle. Are the plants going to be alright if they suddenly get three times more sun? (He says this to kind of make fun of her, by playfully stating her eternal rain is vital to the flowers on the road, and Juvia would always whine about him being an insensitive jerk. Neither of them take any real offense, though.) 

Juvia has piercings and tattoos in usually hidden places. I’m thinking around the bellybutton area, or maybe even somewhere more uncharacteristical to show off an unexpected vixen side. She doesn’t show it off because she’s been raised to dress modestly, but she proudly shows the ones she can when she’s in swimsuits or home clothing. 

Juvia's clothing and boots are just slightly studded with stainless steel to give some form and weight. It’s a choice she came to while living with Gajeel, because the extra weight is useful for hand combat and balance. She’s not a nimble fighter, so she doesn’t need speed. She finds comfort in the extra weight. Gajeel also has a similar quirk in that he usually wears swim trunks under his clothing, or some of his clothes are waterproof. He’s always had to wear something that can dry easily in Phantom because of Juvia, and now it’s just a habit. 

Juvia had a makeover when joining FT in after TOH because she asked Gajeel how she’d make a good renewal impression, and his answer was to have an image change, into a more wild and unreserved version of herself. (Hence, the shorter, spikier hair, and the exposed shoulders, kind of a very loose imitation of Gajeel if you squint.) The reason Gajeel didn’t bother with following his own advice is that he didn’t give a crap. 

They would never stop each other from doing something, because they’re both very well aware that whatever the consequences, it’ll probably be fine because their dumbass of a partner won’t die from it. Let them face their own consequences, I’ll be here to say I told you so, dummy. And Gajeel and Juvia would always retaliate because they were prepared for the consequences, but they hated the smug way it was rubbed in. It will never stop. They will tease each other like this forever. 

[confessions-official]

💜❤️‍🩹 (emotes to recognise myself anonymously)

CW: Mentions of childhood abuse

———————

I (22NB) think I’m unable to be properly loved deep down no matter how many times I try to fight myself about it. It’s like it’s the default state of my brain and any day I don’t think that is a rare day where the kind side of my brain wins in this long war in my head that stemmed from being abused as a kid and for too long of a time.

I put this here to confess because I’m literally that friend who would flirt with people platonically, the type to put their friends or people I care about first and just essentially be a person who is deeply loved by my friends platonically. And I feel so deeply ashamed that I can’t see it, like it takes a while for me to remember my friends and sometimes that’s enough but sometimes that’s not and I feel so guilty for wanting more. I should be happy for the love I receive even if all of it is through online friendships.

I can never say this to anyone Im close to because it feels like I’m taken their love for granted and I’m not! I try to show my affection for them all the time. I’m the person who says I love you whenever I’m leaving vc calls.

It’s even worse for romantic relationships because before it was fine since it was also online, now I’m too aware of my own demons caused by my childhood traumas that it’s hard for me to see myself to be loved in the fantasy way. I’ve been told I take things too seriously or I overthink and I rush things and all I can think about is that one tumblr post that is like “if you find love you’ll run into the ground.”

I think I’m that person no matter how many times, no matter how many years I devote myself to healing from my trauma. I wish someone can save me with love, mostly because I want to know that there is proof that I’m worth fighting for, that I’m not as damned as I think I am. I get so tired of fighting myself, for the (self) acknowledgment that I am loved. It would be so nice to have someone fight for me and protect me from myself but I know that’s never going to happen.

I think the worst part, and I’ll end this confession on this is that when I realised I was a lesbian— The one thing that kept me going to stay alive before I had my now online friends was the idealistic fantasy that one day I’ll be married and I’ll have a wife. I’m terrified that I’ll reach a point in my life where I realised I have failed that inner childhood dream of mine cause I know to both of us, the concept of a wife was proof that we could be unconditionally loved despite what the abuse did to us.

.

[thesecretattic]

Another Bizarre Incident + something about Aditya at the end

I have no other option than dying thanks to his/their unwantedness, he himself had come go through the signs I’ll die while saying this that since he was also interested and we shared those signs till the very end I deserved a chance instead of getting rejected that too unequivocally due to superficial reasons. I have lost 8+ years of my life from 2015 bed ridden all alone abused at home crying and then his torture. I still remember frantically texting him my link (in 2018-19) again signs and coincidences I was scared that he’ll react in a very bad manner pls read my post which says how it has impacted my health and mind and BRAIN (physically) and he did he reacted in such a hostile dismissive way that I almost fainted my mother on the other end was torturing me to death, this is what my life was all about pls read everything from at least Jan-Mar 2023. I wanted to get hypnotherapy done to forget everything related to him after finishing my book and getting married to someone else but there was NO ONE he was my soulmate rest maximum are taken in today’s times i had told you it’s EASY for others NOT for me, he has made it impossible THEY ALL SEEM to share the same reason as him, I’m treated like an untouchable in India when one does something the rest COPY NO ONE WANTS TO EVEN TALK that is exactly what is going on and I feel like I’m already dead as if ppl can’t hear me, enough of innuendos I’m too sick I kept crying again

It occurred to me today that whoever was with him like his ex and all those who were close to him who were in his life, were very lucky they were the luckiest ppl on this planet. I wish I would’ve been exactly what he wanted, I can’t type much I’m coughing due to low pressure I am too ill that impacted tooth has given me an infection in my chest and all my head nerves have sensitised they are too tender and painful to touch. I wanted to share this incident - I was 15 and I was at the service centre to repair my 15 inch MacBook 💻 That area had a church and a cemetery right opposite that and lot of odd incidents have happened there with me and even my mother, she’s also a witness, there was a man who came out of nowhere and he was following me my mom and my brother when we were kids, he kept going everywhere we went, we crossed the signal to get rid of him my mother’s idea but he too crossed behind us and he kept crossing signals JUST LIKE US it was dusk after Magrib the cemetery was right there so I think it was a lost soul or it could be just some random old person with dementia, nonetheless I’ll share the other incident which is very weird, the weather is scary btw it’s like doom’s day is approaching and I’m too scared cuz I’m very ill so I get dreams where I see horrible explosions in the sky and the worst kind of thundering possible due to climate change threat, anyway we were at the service station (I was 15) my chest is quivering at the slightest sound while I’m writing this due to that infection and all the stress I had told u I will die I won’t be able to handle it. My book could’ve explained this incident but I’m dying with all the secrets, I had thought someone would ask me what the story was about but people are so boring, I was adding them for that contract marriage (I don’t think even platonic is possible for me so house mates one) and I thought if they’ll like the story and we’ll become acquainted with each other then we can try having that contract marriage (+ hypnotherapy) at times I feel like I want a normal relationship but my bf age is gone I was always that “type” and it’s too late, I really wish I would’ve been whatever he wanted, and now I don’t this anyone wud accept me, I feel like sharing a normal life with someone with complete “acceptance” for everything he rejected that’s the only way I’ll get my confidence back and realise that I wasn’t that unacceptable. He never wanted me, I was okay with the dark ugly pics (had to mention I realised he doesn’t actually look like that so u don’t have to assume he’s like those old photos the camera might be such) but I was okay with that and even when his fingers were looking dark again due to low res. camera and lights, inspite of the ring I was okay with that too and I cried so much I just never want to face him in real life I had stopped going to Malad in 2016 itself due to all that hate (repulsion) then I stopped going out and I haven’t left my room since 2017, I wish someone would’ve gotten me out of this exile, I never cared about the eyes and all I really don’t I never wanted this handsome or rose I wouldn’t have maintained a distance from fair and rich guys, I wanted to hold his hands in my thoughts as usual when I felt like I was dying or I couldn’t make it but now I can’t after the ring (pls read that story also it’s in my previous post) the devil killed one of the characters IN REAL LIFE I had Aditya singh’s screenshot in my hidden album it doesn’t have the death date cuz

he was alive back then, I had taken that cuz I had recently come across his profile I had not stalked though it was from Google that too because of the Singh Rajput surname from that show Pishachini I was making peace with the fact that it’s not Jayesh Rajput and that such surnames are common. Cuz I was insecure my name had come up with Harsh’s last name as Zara Rajput and there were several ZH even with heart (I have SHARED ALL EVIDENCE AND SCREENSHOTS in my previous posts) our initials and numbers (marriage related kept coming up) and now when I see that Aditya’s screenshot I feel horrible cuz it doesn’t have a death date, his SS was amongst all the hidden pics which have Jiya and Harsh etc. That too not many it’s all just evidence but not related to signs, just some of my rivals I don’t deem them as rivals he made them that but it just has their ugly shots (even other girls hehe) and a few other things which I clarified for my assurance. But his SS was amongst all this and he was a part of the story back then I didn’t even know he was his friend and one of the characters is dead now. At this point we should’ve been Serious, there’s a reason why he was killed read my prev post. It was for the ring which took away his hand from me. I can’t even hold it in my thoughts while dying my own hand is cold n numb n paralysed rn can’t type autocorrect mode I was okay even if those hands would’ve been actually dark like the pics I was okay I loved him so much I did feel like maybe someone should’ve accepted me in the same manner my hands are lighter (so are his or else he’ll blame me for lying it was just the camera) but the bottom line is I was okay even if it would’ve been real. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else’s hands I was okay with them cuz they were HIS. I just wanted “Harsh” I have 0 confidence I feel like my story (if you’ve read that Anu Gupta part) doesn’t matter like I have no right to voice it or narrate it, I feel like I don’t have enough respect or ppl don’t want to hear from me they don’t want to know they are all dismissive like him, they don’t value me and I’m not going to quote unrealistic soliloquies such as “If they don’t value you find new ppl” WHERE ARE NEW PEOPLE? I’m talking about ALL PEOPLE. I’m getting wheezing had to share that “teaser” before dying tonight, I just wanted ppl to realise that someone like me also will have something worthwhile to say and we should be given a chance I don’t know what separates me from you, and makes me an untouchable unspeakable online too, no one LITERALLY NO ONE wants to associate or talk either they have too many ppl in their lives or they are just busy copying him, he was my soulmate but he DIDNOT want me so I was waiting for someone else and my posts do reach out ppl notice I even send friend requests to find someone but none of them want a “reject”. I have to die I can’t even heal from his rejection he meant everything to me, like I said all those who were with him were the LUCKIEST of all, I can’t do my hypnotherapy to forget that or move on with someone else (WHY SHUD I BE ALONE ALL OF YOU GUYS GAVE A SIGNIFICANT OTHER, it’s NOT my age to stay with my parents ppl get married and shift into their dreams homes I’ve seen several especially during Cov BUT my life has only gotten worse) it’s NOT normal their behaviour is not normal

If you are that conservative and you only want someone from ur HINDU religion then mention it on dating apps even that Taher who met me married some Gujju girl so Muslim guys don’t want us Hindu guys don’t want us or they only want money my OWN SOULMATE doesn’t want me, go thru the signs in prev hood posts, so what do they want? Its not about contract marriage someone should’ve actually made up for all those 10 years and accepted me the way I accepted him, inspite of his monetary status or lack of “popularity” (social status) complexion which was there in the pics or even looks (height and all even the double chin in 2014) I had to say that cuz I really wish I would’ve had someone like me for the first time I am saying “Like me” and not like Harsh. Why can’t all other men budge yaar? They only marry their mother a choice this is MODERN DAY INDIA? Yes mummy yes mummy waale dumb imbeciles, why can’t anyone man up and message? Flirt? Ask me out on a date? (You don’t have to flirt with others you can flirt with me all you want but only me) why can’t they ask if I need help with the book like a matured adult? Why can’t they APPROACH OR TALK TO A GIRL? They say na Sx is easy these days then where’s your spine? Can’t man up to even TALK? I’m done with this, what kind of boring c**ts do we have in India? They can sleep with those typical Lokhandwala behenjis who have that fake accent and same common “tone”, all those stupid bimbos they have a fetish they call them “cute” acc to them dumb girls are cute?!!

SHAME ON YOU can’t handle a bomb? Itna bada Tope hai aur bomb handle nahi kar sakta hai? This quote had come up for me “She’s fragile but now like a flower like a bomb” I had said another variation of my name means a flower and I never wanted to be recognised as that I’m not a flower 🌸 I’m not something that feminine or boring, I’m not some cliche representation of beauty, my spelling means light as a matter of fact and I’m happy about it.

I have no other option I am DYING DUE TO ALL OF YOU, had to share that bizarre incident to light the wick and drop that bomb before dying. - Zara Sauleh

[angstmonsterwrites]

Back when I was 22, I moved in to a fairly nice townhouse with a group of people I thought were friends.

There were red flags the three years that led up to that point that suggested they might not be the best caliber of people-- enough that one year prior, I was putting some distance between myself and one of them. She confronted me on it, and I lied, telling her that work had simply gotten too rough. I didn't know what else to do, and I was lonely enough to convince myself I could make it work. She and her brother had an unkind father, so I felt for them. Enough that I ignored the ball of dread accumulating in the pit of my stomach.

Before the move, we agreed on obligations for expenses and rent. We were barely in the new place a week before a third roommate I hadn't agreed to was added in the name of helping with expenses.

I still wound up paying for much more than I had agreed to. I was the only one who ever cleaned. The facade of being a welcomed part of the friend group felI completely apart, as I was excluded household outings if I didn't invite myself, which would then always turn awkward. I tried to cling to the idea of self sacrifice as a comforting virtue to survive until the lease was up, but depression began to set in.

When I finally started to complain, their passive-aggressive disrespect turned to outright contempt. They accused me of being self-pitying and dramatic. Selfish. When one of them finally walked in on a suicide attempt, he snapped at me, saying that my "childish temper tantrums" needed to stop, and that no one owed me anything.

It was at that point that it crystallized I had been deliberately and maliciously used and manipulated. It wasn't a matter of misunderstanding or poor communication. A perfect stranger might have reacted more compassionately.

I had to take out a loan to pay off my share of the remaining lease contract because of how cash-strapped I'd become, but I felt I needed out as soon as possible for my safety. 10 months was too much already. And I finally allowed myself to be angry--the kind cold, icy anger that knows it's earned its place.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the damage. Although it's been 15 years, I only recently made the connection: After that, anytime I've struggled with depression, I become hyper-focused on my social anxiety and feel like I'm still on the receiving end of all that contempt. My mind weaves cruel narratives about how everyone around me secretly believes that my grief and stress are nothing more than self pity and childish fits. And I feel that I must then try to hide it, downplay it to avoid cruel reactions. To some extent, I shut down. Seeking support honestly and directly feels almost taboo for fear it might be perceived and scorned or punished as histrionic attention-seeking.

Growing up, my alcoholic parents instilled in me way too much stranger danger, a strict ideal that embarrassment was to be avoided at any cost, and the belief that if anyone ever hurt me, it would be my own fault for failing to be careful enough. This left me socially awkward, perfectionistic, lacking in confidence, and probably set me up to fail. But not even that measures up to what happened in my early 20's with those now-ex-friends. The occasional bout of depression I already had turned into a trauma trigger, and I am deeply insecure socially, riddled with unearned guilt.

Imagine that you can scarcely ask a housemate for a favor or strike up conversation with friends without feeling like you've broken into their house, cleaned out their refrigerator, pooped on the carpet, and kidnapped their dog--all because you were feeling too down at the time. Imagine living in constant fear that your mental health struggles will be downplayed, your emotions dismissed as insincere or too dramatic. And that's before realizing that having one's entire social life collapse without being at fault strains credibility no matter how true it is, and that many people might just assume you had to have been the asshole in that situation somehow.

Imagine the effort it takes to resist believing that most of the world operates just like those three did. Especially after these past couple of years.

[abbynx]

Being a parental figure to Giorno

Genre: Platonic, parental

Warnings: Abuse, neglect

- The Giovanna household consists of you and your older brother. Your parents had passed since then and you were under a care of an old relative. Your brother moved away, while you stayed in your grandmother's home.

- Haruka Shiobana married into the Giovanna family through your older brother, when you first encountered her son Haruno. He was shy, hid behind structures that are taller than he is, standing in the shadows, away from the celebration.

- You never really interacted with your brother's girlfriend, nor did you knew he had one. Their relationship just came about when they started to plan for their wedding. Nevertheless, you were supportive and happy for them.

- The wedding came and you were invited. You weren't really close to your brother, but you attended nonetheless. It was a small gathering with friends, along with your sister-in-law's friends and of course, the noir haired boy.

- Wanting to keep a child company and make sure he stays safe and trouble-free, you opted to accompany your step nephew. You understand that getting married keeps both the groom and bride occupied, but you thought they'd know better and hire a nanny to watch over him. Nevertheless, you settled to watch over him.

- At first he tried to get away from you, hiding under tables and curling under it, when you offered him snacks. That's when he started to slowly warm up to you. He particularly likes pudding and butter cookies, so you kept in mind that he loves them in future meetings.

- By this, he started to hide behind you instead of other taller structures. He would clutch your pinky finger as he hid away from any attention he receives. He wasn't really vocal, only nodding his head and shaking his head and pointing at things, so you opted to use yes or no questions when interacting with him.

- After the event, Haruno seems to take a liking in you, clinging to you when you tried to leave to go home. As you sheepishly pleaded with the boy to let you go, you heard your sister-in-law state behind you;

"Just kick him. It usually does the work."

- Upon hearing that, suddenly a lot of things started to make sense. She married your brother, who obviously has a connection to crime syndicates without thinking about her son and how it would affect him growing up. It was too early to make annm assunption, for all you knew she was simply joking but... Who would joke about that so carelessly and freely? Understanding what's happening and not really wanting to make a scene, you simply nodded and took your leave but not without giving the boy your phone number and a bag of snacks.

- Despite the distance between your home and the household of the Giovanna's, you made an effort to drop by and check on Haruno everyday just to make sure he's doing well. And in those visits, almost every day the adults were absent. If not absent, just straight up neglectful.

- You would attempt to discuss crucial matters with them, but saw nothing serious coming out of it. Neither of them refused to listen to a school kid, and often told you off for interfering with "grown-up" stuffs. It was ultimately frustrating but that did not deter you from stopping to drop by the household and make sure Haruno was okay.

- You would stay all night in the household, cook meals and just spend time with him. He has developed a special fondness to nature, as you saw him constantly tending to the once dying garden in their yard and has done miracles.

- One visit marked itself memorable when the four year old suffered a severe fever. The boy was barely breathing, his temperature exudes extreme heat, and it hurts to see him barely opening his eyes from utter pain. And neither of his parents were there. Despite not being at the age to drive around, nor did you knew how to drive anyways, you ran.

- You remembered holding his hand as you ran, carrying him, caressing and comforting him on your way as he shivered and coughed. You remember shedding a tear or two, before you arrived in the hospital and rushed inside carrying Haruno. How old were again back then? Ah, thats right... You were ten.

- The hospital contacted the parents soon after Giorno was confined into the ER, concerned why a ten year old came to the ER with a five year old when it was an adult's responsibility.

- Not soon after that, they were investigated by Child's Protection Program and somehow, they managed to get out of it without any other major reprimand.

- After that incident, you brother began to stay at home and watch over Haruno— or Giorno, as they renamed him. Your brother began to insist and deny your presence in the house, reassuring you that everything is under control, you didn't need to travel an hour to get to their house because Giorno was in good hands.

- At first you were relieved there would be an adult watching over Giorno now, but something in you just screamed to still visit their household just to make sure.

- So instead of greeting them on their front door, you decided to climb the second floor and squeeze yourself in Giorno's room. It wasn't easy, as you came with scratches and bruises, but you persevered. As always, you come bearing snacks and drinks.

- Giorno, utterly concerned at the deep gash on your arm caused by a thorny shrub, was quick on his feet to retrieve a first aid kit under his bed. Despite your numerous protest, he simply shook his head at you, points at your bleeding gash, before getting into work.

- You were impressed at how quick and precise he was, but an underlying realization that he knows how to do this for a reason. Pieces started to fall in place, why he was always hungry and malnourished, why he wore long sleeves shirts in the middle of hot summers, why your brother insisted you not to interfere anymore...

- As he bandaged your cuts, your free hand tugs on his sleeve to see bruises and scrapes. All you can do was to just sigh and cry. Grown ups were no help, and you were just too young to be dealing with his sorts of things.

- So that's what you did everyday, sneak into his bedroom through the window, pick a God and pray that you won't get caught. And you never were caught, thats how neglectful they were.

- You bond over books, watching nature documentaries, watching him tend to plants and learn magic tricks. Even if you were occupied with school, you miraculously had time to spare with him.

- You learned that he once was approached by people who were looking for a man, an injured man they probably intend to kill, and directed them elsewhere; saving the injured man. You were proud of him, you admit it was a small act but heroic nonetheless but you were scared because he might get himself involved with mafias.

- The time came, you finally graduated to become a teacher to a boarding school at eighteen, and took thirteen year old Giorno to study in the same school you taught in. From then on, he made no attempt to contact neither of his parents. Honestly, good for him.

- He had his own dorm, meaning he had nothing to worry about. No more belt-welding step father and no neglectful mother. But due to habit, you tend to leave your own dorm just to check on him like old times... If you can.

- After all, being a full-time teacher was difficult enough to keep you occupied. Even when you're no longer in the classroom, you'd be slumped over your table tending to paperwork, grading papers, planning lessons, doing research, etc etc. It would be late at night that you'd be finishing your work, and visiting Giorno in his dorm might disrupt his sleep.

- Giorno was now at a better place because of you and he is utterly and eternal grateful for you standing as a parental figure he looked up to. You made sure he was doing well in school, not getting into bad crowds and ingesting drugs in his system etc etc, but sometimes you get a touch overbearing.

- When he asked if he can work part-time as a taxi driver, your immediate response was to shut it down. A job like that involves interacting with strangers and he's but a young boy. What if he interacted with the wrong crowd and saw something he shouldn't see?

- It was your first time raising your voice at him, and he had his jaw clenched tight and has his balled, shaking fist beside him. Upon noticing this, you retreat and apologize.

"Giorno... I'm sorry, you know how I am," you pinched the bridge of your nose, blinking the tears back. "It's just that..."

"Y/N please, I can handle myself. I want to contribute with the funds too." His voice softly pleads.

You looked up, to see the raven-hair transition into a blond colour, and yet his soft emerald eyes remained the same all these years. And within those gaze, was the scared little boy who couldn't even cry at how helpless and vulnerable he was, now he's grown up, made friends, kept strong and persevered.

"Fine." You relent with a sigh. Giorno grins, opening his mouth to speak when your interject, "But you have to promise me that you'll be careful, alright?"

"Of course, thank you! Thank you very much, Y/N!"

- And so he became a taxi driver as a part time job. With this, it comes in handy as he always offer to drive for you no matter how you insist. Sure enough, he helpfully contributed with the funds as he wanted and gave you 50% of his income, despite how much you stressed that he earned that money, therefore it's his to use but nope— he stubbornly insists. After all, he hates repeating himself.

"You're earning quite a lot. You must have a lot of passengers boarding."

"Yes..." He smirks knowingly. Despite being open to you, he still kept secrets... Such as his pick pocketing habits, and stealing passenger's properties before selling it.

- Once a week, a whole day worth of bonding is extremely mandatory. Both of you agreed to drop everything you're working on, and meet up with each other to keep a close bond. Just a way to catch up, take a break and generally just have a good time.

But today he was particularly late. Giorno was usually the early bird and if he does need to be late he'd be informing you prior your meeting that he'd be tardy. Something must've suddenly came up for him to be delayed. You didn't mind it, really, it simply felt odd for you to arrive first.

- You tried to shake it off, but you couldn't help but to feel a sense of dread building within your mind until you couldn't. You allowed the dread take over, as it took over your body, it stirred uncomfortably within your guts.

"Where could he be?"

- It's been thirty minutes. He still isn't there. At this point, you've slammed the tips on the table and gathered your belongings. You didn't know where to start looking, but your feet has lead you to the airport where Giorno typically hung out around. Not there. Your next stop was at school, still not there. You haven't gotten a hold of witnesses who had seen Giorno and at this point, you were a panicking mess.

- You were only able to breathe when you located him near the beach with a twenty year old man dressed in white suit.

"Giorno! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" In a state of relief, you pull the blonde to your heaving chest. "What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You pulled away, his face in your hands, consequently squeezing his cheeks as you turn his head to inspect him.

Giorno was taken aback to see you there, but once the initial shock subsides he began to feel guilty. "Y/N... Apologies, I wasn't able to inform you that I was going to be late."

"It's alright, next time don't do that okay?" You pulled him once again for a hug. "God I was turning the entirety of Italy inside out to look for you."

- Upon pulling away, your attention shifts to the white-wearing gentleman.

"Might I ask who you might be?" The wicked wariness of yours kicked in as you eye him from head to toe.

"Bruno Bucellati, Mx...?"

"Y/N L/N, Giorno here is my ward. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bucellati." You shook his hand. He may look prim and proper, but something within you screamed to stay away from him. "Are you a friend of Giorno's?"

Bruno subtlety looked behind you and at Giorno he gave a look, before the ravenet's gaze settled back to yours, "Yes. He was kind enough to run errands for me.

"I agree, he's always been a helpful one." You smiled, pleased to hear Giorno has been nothing but a good kid. "Before we leave, I'd like you to join Giorno and I to dinner sometimes if you are available."

"Of course, that would be delightful Mx. L/N."

You parted ways with his number, and Giorno giving Bruno a knowing look.

- The moment Bruno saw you fret over Giorno's safety made him regret his advice to Giorno in how to get in Passione. To see you so frazzled, to hear you've turned Italy upside down to look for Giorno... He was beginning to feel quite conflicted whether he made the right choice or not.