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#- them they would be so useless in everything else in life
aftg-rot · 3 months
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thinking about the "perfect court" again. honestly; just how fucking unstoppable it would be, if they had riko, kevin, jean, nathaniel and andrew?! it would be GENUINELY terrifying.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months
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it's not about that you "have" to get to exercise your autonomy. b/c like, yes you do, but not in the way that "if i don't get to do that Now i will explode & evaporate (& die)" which is what people keep leveraging to be like "so you don't have any valid argument for getting to act out your own choices"
therein is another issue of "why do you need a 'valid argument' to get Exceptions as ruled by this person to exist autonomously, unpunished" like why's this person an authority who gets to punish you. nonrhetorically, why do you have to appeal to their maybe possibly deciding to Let you be a person. should you "have" to.
and if you don't get that Permission that you supposedly "have" to get, you also will not immediately explode and die if you do that unpermitted thing, but shocking how "you don't Haaaave to" is only invoked re: things you want to do for yourself, and not what they want you to do for them....because it's Not Really About "Literally literally Haaaaving to"
the alignment between people getting on one for years about asexuality, and while doing so maxing out the saturation on their bullshit on any & everything, b/c you're just getting into anti autonomy, so ofc you're also just stoking & expressing "arguments" against autonomy that are deployed in plenty of other contexts, including against other queer identities....and that particular resonance with biphobia & transphobia, and how either groups are theoretically thwarting the Truest Gays because how will we have a valid argument against the truest cishets agenda if we can't convince them we haaaaaave to be like this instead of that no, we won't explode & die if we have to be repressed or at least closeted another day, and another, and you won't explode after another, either, etc. rather than thee point of "asexuality autonomy = queer autonomy = Your queer autonomy = Anyone's Autonomy" and "why do we 'have' to Convince anyone to go 'oh alriiiight' abt one's choices about how they express their identity, what decisions they make about having sex"....it's about anyone having the power to preclude & restrict others' autonomy & constrain their existence between one kind of more imminent, immediate harm/death & a more drawn out one where you exist as a resource for others' use but at least you aren't Literally dead today. so what if someone's saying "well i don't think your gender/sexuality stuff is Real" so long as they can't get in the way of other people living that out anyways. so what if someone's supposedly like "well, but everyone could be bi" (which they don't. just like ppl were never 'pretending' to be asexual to nefariously stand around in the queer space that never rigorously vetted everyone anyways? Making Up A Guy To Get Mad At) to supposedly argue that if all of you are bi you can just restrict yourself to the Cishet Appearing manifestations (which they don't) where what's that even matter if this [guy to get mad at] can't make that anyone else's problem? if he can, why can he. should he be able to. that's the problem, not "have we all tried the constant biphobia wherein they're always thwarting & sabotaging the rest of us?? like how trans people are keeping us from being legitimate?? with the opportunity for some trans people to also try declaring other noncis people Not Legitimately Trans?? well the cishet agenda loves asexuals, actually, they want everyone to never have sex ever (they don't want that, and that's not what being asexual is)"
using the "you can't Know through Direct Perception or extrasensory phenomena what someone else's Thoughts And Feelings are" both ways; wherein their assertion of their intentions, true or not, gets to be treated as an assertion of Reality, meanwhile b/c Your intentions/thoughts/feelings can't be directly observed, you're just lying or exaggerating or misremembering or failing to Express yourself correctly b/c they would've surely interpreted it correctly otherwise, or [anything else] re: your inner experiences that you can't "prove" are one way or another, so this other person gets to always decide for themself what they must be (why?) and if they just so happen to decide they Must be in alignment with what they want (good) or unacceptably, evilly, incorrectly Against Them, they also get to flex their control over the entire situation via their Authority / control over resources / the person's lack of other options b/c of isolation & that, say, breaking away from a family, job, marriage or just deemed correctly romantic relationship, is punished by the larger system of How Things Are, through a lack of resources that makes you more vulnerable in general as well as vulnerable to further punishment in how you might try to respond to that situation, through the general stance that maintaining cohesion of a Unit like the nuclear family, the "romantic" "man"/"woman" couple, is good, so breaking from it is deviant........anyways it's like. if you're like "well i'm having sex b/c i want to" and someone is like "well i say YOURE LYING" like, what? "isn't there someone you forgot to ask" shit. why should that get to affect things. whether you're like "oh no. what if they could say 'you're lying...b/c how do i knowwww you're not BI. where you could want to have sex with someone BESIDES this one person rn?? or ACE??? if you Don't have sex rn and you Don't explode and die 5 min later we will Know you Could Be Asexual" like, this isn't how it works anyways obviously but theoretically if it did: we would not be like "oh sorry guess that's what matters" unless what mattered was some people's being lower on a hierarchy and at the quite literal disposal of those with more power than them. what would the crisis be of someone going "well i think. every gay person? is bi" or someone going "you've just told me your name is gloria but i think your name is actually tetris...." or "i'm so embarrassed i wish everyone but me was dead" if none of these things can hinder the existence of people having sex w/autonomy for all involved or people getting to tell you their name or all other people being alive
the banger quote on my imdb page was saying "no, i don't 'Have' to, but i'm going to" to an authoritarian in my life, concluding several minutes' "negotiation" of [i 'have' to hang up on this call now b/c the movie i'm standing in this movie theater to see is about to start. no i won't explode and die if i don't. i also won't explode and die if i don't keep "talking" to you (being Talked At / lectured & upbraided from afar)] funny how that works. i also Know this was a checkmate b/c that person gave up on responding (or, technically, switched to The Silent Treatment, which worked even worse via phone than in person) and i did hang up rather than miss the movie i showed up for and then they had to resort to Other Methods: telling someone willing to take on the enabling cop mode that i had Essentially said Go Fuck Yourself. like well that's right, and the fact that it's a "go fuck yourself" to get to say "i am going to end the call b/c i choose to do something else" and then actually do so is a real testament to this relationship. and if one had said "i can't keep talking, i have to go" and someone's like "sldfj you mean thou MAY not keep talking" teehee i don't know, CAN you have the peas????? it's like this obviously doesn't matter. i can choose to do shit and choose to not do shit without exploding and dying right this very second, except for taking 5 sec to eat a deadly bomb with a timer set for 5 sec. This Is Not The Point. why is autonomy off-limits to Anyone.
#authoritarian parent whose silent treatments fail: anti crossdressing household law will get everyone to stop inconveniently Being People#spoilers: i continue to be a real life person; nonbinary; autistic; i continue to not engage in a relationship w/that parent b/c#Their choice was to have that relationship be the authority & the property. so the response to that: not being in that situation.#creating that kind of relationship & then being like ''why don't i get the Benefits of a different kind of relationship that is defined by#everyone being recognized as people and having actual positive experiences and legitimately Wanting to interact :(''#the autonomy to Not do something b/c you don't want to = the autonomy to Totally do something b/c you do want to#hence the idea of the True / Ideal Homosexual being ''but i Must Only have gay sex or i'll explode & die'' vs ''i feel like having gay sex'#yeah we ''could'' all be forced into binary genders & nuclear family units & be miserable & isolated but not literally explode.#but why should we. why would we. why can't we Not do that#hence as well that queer autonomy=everyone's autonomy. ppl who id as cishet? don't need to be Forced into that or into Awful Marriage Asap#but they do if we wanna isolate everyone / eliminate broader social support networks / restrict the autonomy to do anything else#asexuality handshake bisexuality. parallel to aromanticism handshake polyamory#and the backup to ''well but you won't literally die'' is to preclude Choice entirely by diverting the focus from [questioning ur choices]#to [questioning whether you have the capacity to make choices] as an extension. lens on ableism / disability justice is in Everything#not in like a ''huh. who'd've thought that overlapped'' Fun Fact way but in [you don't Understand that issue fully if you don't see ableism#someone's always getting to justify their authority by their Superior Ability vs others' Inferior/Absent Ability#saw that zany ''radical queer theory based on vibes is now that asexuals aren't queer'' streak definitely manifest ableism#a good ol fashioned ''asexuals won't consider What's Wrong With Them / try harder to seek some conversion therapy'' great stuff gang#or even more useless declarations of ''haha but most people Aren't ace. it's not Normal to not want to have sex. checkmate?''#and what is your conclusion to that logic? ended up in ''ace ppl. are cringe!! & maybe not real!!!'' aaand what do we do with that?#what praytell do you suggest change based on that. how has that exclusionist analysis served queer lives. how is it continuing to do so.#versus like and who cares if everyone Could possibly all be labeled bi if what is In Practice anyways is ppl getting to have sex or Not how#they want to anyways. recognizing that Any trans person's existence is a testament to Everyone's autonomy#any ''threat'' to children is always guaranteed abt the Threat to [parents' control to decide Who & What a child gets to be]#that is; ''protecting'' children is abt the child being the property of parents. gotta protect That by withholding all info about trans ppl#even existing from kids b/c Property can't decide their identities for themselves so Children can't be allowed to either#their even knowing that some people Do get to exist autonomously is; indeed; that ''threat'' to the [child is property] order#and Language as Possibility. it's the 2010s & you can only go ''that's me i'm nonbinary'' when you learn abt the word ''nonbinary''#even though you can then know you always knew but you didn't have the word so you had to keep on using other; more inaccurate words....#discovering the tree trunk of [word: Autistic] that roots all these branches of ppl talking abt Experiences & now Realizing Things....
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buckynats · 1 year
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#feeling very. Bad lately#in a despondent 'there is no future at least not for me' kind of way#hard to feel optimistic about anything. if I think for more than five minutes about the more than immediate day to day future#I get lost in a fugue of scenarios that will never come to pass because I'm too willing and ready to just be a tool and not a person#to everyone in my life and somehow still pretend day in and day out that I'm actually living a life#I constantly feel like I'm sixteen years old and never got the guidebook for life beyond hs#don't have a job and can't find one without access to transportation and my hours would be severely limited by my caretaking duties#ostensibly I have all the free time in the world right and just absolutely no drive to do anything at all with it#except lay in bed and suffer anxiety over everyone else's problems and my limited/un-ability to solve all of them#logically I am aware this is ridiculous and self-sabotaging and also impossible and also NOT on me to fix#but I've never been any good at treating myself the way I feel the desire to treat everyone else. my problems aren't worth fixing etc#life is and just always has been something that happens to other people#and most days I'm fine with that. I can find some silly interest to lose myself in and not think about it.#I'm very good at disappearing somewhere else. I don't need to exprience anything. my brain is great at theater#but right now it's just nothing. and so reality crashing in on many sides at once is destroying me a bit#I've also got a migraine right now so that helps tremendously. obviously#maybe if I make dinner now before I become completely useless I can just go to sleep early#I know this'll pass. It is what it is. I'm just Tired. and wish everything were different. y'know.
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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oh my god it's 9 am
#🌙.rambles#i'm not rlly sleepy.. n i'm busy 😭😭 so much to do fr#i'm being productive at least but i think i'm. i'm using this productivity too as a distraction#from my loneliness. from my thoughts n my burdens n regrets. my regrets.. they're so burdening fr oh my god#my regrets.. they're so burdening fr oh my god#i try to take my mind off being too. meticulous ig or really just placing too much importance on my school performance#generally i've always been doing well.#i had high honors after all back in gr8 n i think it was just the subjects in filipino that pulled my grades down in middle school#i am.. not the best w filipino but my grammar is good. i'm good w systems n idk generally just acads#but my proficiency in the language itself makes me perform worse :/#other than that i do great w everything else#back when we had exams (my school took them away now ever since the pandemic) i would always do well#always one of the top of my class. never quite the best ig but perhaps second.#if i was.. born in another country in the first place i think i'd be even better than i am right now#without filipino fuck that i have nothing but hatred for it#it's useless to me. all my life everything's just proved it's worthlessness#i don't want to stay in this country at all. i hate it here.#i've tried to love my country before but.. it's so lonely here. so much of it has given me pain#n though there r things dear to me like my friends n family here n wtvr#i wouldn't trade that at all. those r rlly just the things i hold on to#it's so. infuriating thinking of if i had education from a more developed country.. i'm naturally intelligent.#it's in my genes fr n i've always worked hard. my curiosity is insatiable and has brought me far#this country is a hindrance to me and my hatred for it is honestly just unfathomable.#loneliness; most of my life i grew up not having friends sharing my interests. now it's better though at least. i'm v grateful for that#but the environment as a whole is so. different i guess. imagining na n europe n australia.. their cons n all have stuff i'm actually#interested in. yk it feels like a miracle just seeing something other than genshin in this country. it's too simple n boring here. it hurts#careers i want to pursue are far from ideal here. they're too difficult. career choices r v limited n i don't think education is enough#there's rlly just so much hinderances in my life here. not to mention the humiliation i faced by my peers w. my accent when speaking filo..#i've always been good at grammar but. w the influence of my interests i do have a bit of an accent.#no one ever intentionally meant to hurt me but.. i can't deny it yk? even if it was just for fun.. being laughed at really hurt.
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slayfics · 5 months
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Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.
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You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.
"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"
"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.
"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.
"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.
"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.
"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.
"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.
You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.
A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.
Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.
You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.
You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.
Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.
"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.
"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.
You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.
You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.
"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"
You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.
You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.
"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.
"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.
"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."
Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.
"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"
"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.
"You don't have to do that Bakugo."
"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"
"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.
"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.
Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.
"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.
You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.
"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.
You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.
"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.
Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.
"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.
"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.
"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.
"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.
"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.
"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"
"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.
"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.
Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."
"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.
"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.
"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.
"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.
"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.
Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!
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mirohlayo · 5 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/mirohlayo/736270231017865216/my-introvert-girl-ln4?source=share
Is it bad I wanna see avas reaction andl her showing everyone she hates reader?
okay so i didn't intend to write a part 2 for my introvert girl but many anons asked me for ava's reaction so here is it !! 🫶
MY INTROVERT GIRL | LN4 (pt2)
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( lando and you are finally together, but it seems one girl still hates you no matter what )
warning : slight angst, insecurity, fluff, like a lil innuendo but that's all, soft lando
note : not gonna write a part 3 because i think it's useless, but already pretty proud of these 2 parts !!
word count : 4k
!! english not my first language !!
lando and you are dating for quite some weeks now. and everything is going wonderfully. he has never been so in love, and therefore the same for you. he loves you so much and he's never tired of showing it, you being overwhelmed by his affection.
he doesn't hesitate to show the entire world how precious you are to him, and if he has to prove it until everyone notices that you are his he will do it for eternity. and you would do the same for him without a doubt, he is your first boyfriend ever and certainly the last of your life.
your love is so intense and can be feel wherever you two go, that necessarily it does not go unnoticed. especially in the eyes of the pretty blonde who obviously feels the same feelings for lando as you. even if it's always good to remember that lando only has eyes for you and only you.
and it gets on ava's nerves. when she knew about you dating, her jealousy towards you has only increased. she saw red. she was horrified by this sudden new. she was sure lando would ends up dating her because there was no world in which he would have ended up with an introvert like you.
she finds you so bland. uninteresting. you're not comfortable with people and being shy you're not talkative. and you're always stuck on lando's side as if you were going to die if you didn't stay close to him.
and the fact that lando doesn't see anything wrong with it and isn't even a little annoyed by your behavior because he adores when his girl gets clingy. he always ends up staring at you with tenderness like you are the most beautiful thing in the world.
you here, you there. ava hates it. she detests you. if we would offer her the choice to break your couple she would do it without hesitation. and this is obviously what she intends to do. because since she sees no point in lando dating his complete opposite, such an introvert girl. no, he needs an funny and extrovert girl like ava to match him.
winter break allows the f1 drivers to relax and to rest, to spend time with their loved ones. lando was looking forward to it since it's his first winter break with you, so he wants to make the most of it to spend as much time as possible with you.
he organized many trips, one of them is a trip to vietnam. some of his closest friends will take part in the trip, including ava. normally, she wasn't supposed to come but ria had an hold up so she ended up replacing her. to her greatest happiness of course.
for your part, you weren't comfortable with going on this trip with the blonde girl. you know very well how much she hates you and that she wants to ruin your romantic relationship. you don't want to alert lando or anyone else, you don't want to create problems because it's not in your nature unlike ava. so you just decided not to say anything.
you told yourself that putting up with her presence and her stupid remarks for a week wasn't going to be that complicated. and then you'll be with your lover most of the time, so ava won't be able to speak to you much. ignoring her will be the best solution.
you arrived two days ago now, and after eating you all decided to spend the afternoon on the beach playing games like volleyball or even mini football. nothing but just activities for fun.
everyone is excited to play games, but you're not really in the mood. you're feeling a little tired and you just don't feel like having fun right now. on the one hand, your shyness also forces you to stay locked up in the hotel. you like playing games but you're afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of others. especially in front of ava.
so you inform lando about it, that you weren't coming, and he told you that he wasn't going to leave the hotel and stay with you either.
"baby it's okay, i'll stay in the hotel room. go play with the others" you say to him before slip in under the blanket. "no. if you don't go then neither do i. i’ll stay with you" he retorts, joining you in the bed.
he places himself above you, his chest on yours and his arms tightly wrap your waist. "please lando. i know how much you want to spend time with your friends so i would never refuse that to you. i don't want you to stay locked up because of me" you say to convince him.
"but that's the point, i want to stay locked up with you baby. you’re the one i want to spend time with the most. i don't really care about the others for now. if you stay here, then me too. i just want you with me” he pouts, and places his chin on your stomach.
you look down to plant your eyes in his gaze and he shows you his prettiest smile. what an adorable man. "okay fine. but i don't want you to be mad at me for that later" you warn him. "never. i would never blame you, love” he said before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.
"love you" he muffles and his breath tickles you. "i love you too lan" you says before pressing a soft kiss on his hair. you start playing with his curls, while he's here holding you close, leaving some kisses here and there on your shoulder and neck.
an hour passes like this, you two cuddling close to each other. a text from max makes lando's phone vibrate and he groans. he extends his hand lazily and grab his phone to read the text. "what he's saying ?" you ask, sounding sleepy. "if we're going to join them or not" he replies sounding the same as you.
you think for a few moments. lando was going to put his phone down on the nightstand when you finally suggest that you must go out and join the others on the beach. "are you sure? do you really want to go outside?" he asks you cautiously, his tired eyes scanning your face. "yes. i want to stretch out. your body made me sag" you tease him and he rolls his eyes letting out a laugh. “just say i'm too heavy” “no you’re perfect baby”.
he can't help but blush so hard. god it's the first time that a girl has had such an effect on him. and it seems that it flutters him even more coming from an introvert. "fine. let's go then my girl" he says and in a second you're already outside, walking hand in hand to join your friends.
“it looks like the sloths are back” pietra says, nodding towards the couple arriving on the beach. “we didn’t even sleep” lando responds defensively. “oh so you must have done dirty things then" max said playfully, giving implied glances to the two lovers.
lando can feel himself blushing really hard, just like you. “shut up you muppet. you're saying bullshit" you reply embarrassed. everyone seems amused by the situation except of course one person.
ava.
she seems to be killing you with her gaze, looking you up and down like you're the plague itself. of course lando doesn't notice, too hypnotized by the beautiful girl walking beside him. he almost falls to the ground because of you.
“well, looks like y/n finally got the guts to show herself. which is rare with her, we almost wonder if she even exists sometimes.” ava looks at you and displays a fake, hypocritical smile. no one seems to laugh at her remark and the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. you don't know where to go or how to react. you feel a little humiliated to tell the truth.
"huh, what did you say ?" lando remarks, a little confused by what the blonde just said. the girl sighs and rolls her eyes before showing her smile that you dream of making her swallow. “oh it’s okay, it was just kidding. we all know that y/n isn’t comfortable with people but i love her anyway” she finally added.
you feel like shit. she's talking like you're the worst scumbag on earth and you don't even have the strength to defend yourself. your shyness seems to be taking over. "um well. okay ava just stop talking and instead start playing. you've been losing every round since a while ago" martin says to lighten the atmosphere because everyone seemed disturbed and embarrassed by the situation.
you sigh and slowly drop lando's hand, but he holds it tightly and looks at you. “don't worry baby, i'm going to stay with you. we can relax on the deckchairs if you prefer” lando kindly offers you, he wants to make you feel comfortable.
“as you wish” you shrug your shoulders trying to hide your sadness and pain and lando smiles at you before leading you towards the deckchairs. he lays down comfortably on one and you move towards another one close to his. but he grabs your hand and makes you sit on his legs. “lie on me love” he begs you with his eyes.
you smile shyly at him and stand up. "nah. we're in public lando, i don't want to receive all the teasing from our friends" you declare before lying down on another deckchair. he pouts, disappointed not to feel your body against his. he even brings his deckchair closer to yours so he can hold your hand, or play with a few strands of your hair.
the sun is strong and the beach umbrella protects you, with of course the sunscreen that you put on before. the waves dance loudly and the laughter of your friends fills the atmosphere with joy. it's calming.
well, it was calming for a little while. ava noticed that you weren't with them playing a game of volleyball and while scanning the surroundings, she spotted you on the deckchairs, silly smiles on your races and lando being extremely touchy with you.
she hates this view. she hates you. she would like to tear off your smile and make you disappear. she already imagines herself in your place, laughing loudly with lando. you are not in your place. it's her. you don't deserve lando.
she walks briskly towards the two of you, and your faces turn towards her. the blonde smiles hypocritically and without any hesitation, she sits on the edge of your lover's deckchair. which you don't like at all. and neither does lando, since he doesn't wait a single second to gently push her with his leg.
she seems hurt and shows it openly, putting her hand to her heart to express her pain ironically. "you hurt me lando. i thought we were friends" she said in a sad tone. “we kind of are. but this place is reserved for my girlfriend only” he answers, holding your hand tighter.
you feel more reassured and you feel your heart soar at the words of your lover. he knows when to show others that it's only you who matters. this comment makes ava roll her eyes, but it's subtle enough that only you notice. she sits on another deck chair and turns to you.
“why don’t you come play with us?” she starts to start a conversation. “y/n doesn’t really want to and neither do i, so i'm staying with her.” lando says and she lets a mocking laugh come out of her mouth and you look at her surprised. “it looks like you’re babysitting her” she says, laughing.
did you hear that correctly? is she serious? you can't let this go. “what did you say?” you ask with a frown. she lets another laugh escape and it also attracts lando's attention. "you seem like you're a baby who always needs lando's attention. he looks like a babysitter because of you"
it’s lando’s turn to frown. he holds your hand a little more firmly. “what do you mean ava?” he says, he knows something is wrong. the blonde sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, glaring at y/n.
"look, she's not even capable of playing with others and having fun. she's stopping you from having good times. she's so shy and... introverted that she's ruining your holidays, even your personal space. she's always stuck to you, it seems like she doesn't know how to cope without you it's just... pathetic." she unpacks it all while looking at you with disgust.
oh you feel so humiliated now. you feel tears coming but you hold them back, crying in front of her will only make things worse. you feel so weak and worthless. you blame yourself for being so insecure, being so shy and reserved. because maybe it's the truth.
maybe lando is finally fed up with you and he hates being around you, stuck with an ordinary and shy person like you. he probably can't have the fun he wants because of your shyness. maybe it's true, you're like a child who's ruining his life.
"don't ever talk about her that way again. you really disgust me ava. you don't even measure up to her and you dare open your fucking mouth to say bullshit" lando starts to raise his voice. you can tell he looks extremely angry.
“oh because you also want to defend her?” she asks mockingly. "i defend her and will defend her no matter what happens. you don't have to talk to my girlfriend like that when she is everything you will never be" he spits his words in her face and gives her a cold look.
he jumps up and holds your hand tightly. when his gaze falls on you, it softens. “come on y/n. let’s go back to the hotel” he pulls you towards him and walks you to the hotel pushing ava out of the way. “get out. i don’t want to see you anymore.” he says his last words to her.
the blonde remains standing, alone. a strange, painful and hurtful feeling takes hold of her. the rest of the group stopped playing, observing the scene. now it's ava's turn to feel humiliated. why did she do that?
for your part, you and Lando return to your hotel room. it's silent. he opens the door and you run to take refuge in the bed, so that he joins you a few seconds later. "don't worry baby. don't listen to her, she's talking nonsense. she just wants to destroy you" lando tries to reassure you and you just nod your head.
you smile at him to reassure him in turn, although deep down you are still a little worried. you're still a little hurt. a part of you tells you that it's true, that Lando doesn't like being constantly stuck to you. you don't like it at all.
the rest of the afternoon passes quickly for your boyfriend, but slowly for you. you can't stop overthinking, thinking about ava's words. part of your brain still makes you believe that you don't deserve lando and that he will be better off with ava. it eats you from the inside. you don't like to doubt lando but ava makes you feel vulnerable and insecure.
and your boyfriend noticed it. he noticed that you had become quieter, you only spoke to him very recently. and he starts to worry about you. he suspects deep down that it's because of earlier that you seem off. so he knows exactly what to do.
he proposed, well more like forced you to watch the sunset, just the two of you, him and you on the beach. no group of friends, no ava, no games, no, just the two of you on the beach. you weren't for it at first but you love sunsets and night walks on the beach, so you finally gave up. especially if it's with lando. you walk hand in hand on the warm sand. the waves rock your ears and the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. how beautiful. you find a comfortable spot and sit down, lando still holding your hand in his.
he gently caresses it with his thumb, pressing a few random kisses on the back of your hand. he rests your head on his shoulder, and you admire the magnificent landscape in the distance. it's soothing, it's romantic.
"beautiful right?” lando murmurs against you, staring into the distance. you smile to yourself. “very beautiful” “just like you” he responds quickly and you can tell he’s grinning. you laugh softly and shake your head. “how cheesy” you blurt out and it’s his turn to let out a soft laugh.
oh his laugh.
although you still hide it, lando knows he needs to talk to you. that he must reassure you. that he has to make you sure how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you. because you're the only girl who makes it feel this good.
“y/n” he whispers your name so softly, and it warms your heart. “hmm babe?” you hum. he moves to get a little closer to you and rests his head on yours. "i know what you're thinking about since this afternoon” he begins cautiously not wanting to rush you. he knows your nature.
"w-what ?" you try to hide. but you know very well that he knows you by heart. “please don’t try to avoid the subject. you know what i'm talking about.” he ends up saying.
you sigh. you know you have to talk to him about it, it will only do you good. “yes sorry.” "don't feel sorry love. take your time". he said in such a caring way. he presses a soft kiss against your hair. and another on your cheek. he loves kissing your face so much.
you take a deep breath. you press your hand a little more against his. "it's just... it's just that i feel so insecure when ava talks about me like that. i keep telling myself that i don't deserve you, that you deserve someone who looks like you and who is not your opposite. like ava". you pause but you know he continues to be attentive and listen to you.
"i..." you continue "i keep thinking that it must bore you to stay constantly and always with me. that my shyness surely prevents you from having fun and enjoying your life to the fullest. that i'm like a drag and dating an introvert like me is a bad idea” you finish, tears soon escaping your eyes.
now he faces you. he looks at you with so much gentleness, so much affection and love. his gaze becomes sadder when he hears what is on your heart and his heart suddenly tightens at your words. he hates hearing you talk about yourself like that, devaluing you when all he loves about you is what you're insecure about.
“my baby…” he whispers and places his hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently. he wipes with his thumb a tear that has just escaped your eyes. he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and smiles affectionately at you.
"i wish you could see you through my eyes". he places another kiss on your forehead. the sun illuminates his face, the waves seem to transport you.
"i fucking love you. like fucking fucking love you. it's me who doesn’t deserve you. it's me who should hate myself for not always making you feel secure about me and our relationship" he explains. "i don't care about ava, you know that. she is absolutely nothing compared to you. it's not her or someone like her that i want. it's you. you're the only one i want and need so badly".
his hands slide to grab yours. "being constantly by your side is the best thing in the world. i don't care if we are in the worst place in the world, in the worst possible situation, as long as i am with you and by your side i know that everything will be fine. there's nowhere i'd like to be without you. it's just impossible. all i fucking want is to stay with you as long as possible."
he smiles brightly at you before finishing. "and your shyness will not change my love for you or how i live my life. i fell in love with you because of this side of you, because you are introverted and you are so much my opposite that i am extremely attracted to you. it's like that. so don't blame yourself, because i don't want you to change that even though it doesn't even bother me a little bit. i love it. i adore you. i love you and i love you. love you and i will always love you"
you sure you look like nothing now. your eyes must probably be puffy and red but that's okay. lando doesn't care too. you can't help but smile at him with all your teeth. “i love you so much lando. i love you with all my heart and that will never change” you whisper against his neck.
he places thousands of kisses on your head, caressing your back. god how much he loves you too, your love is so deep and strong. “hope it'll never change then” he adds and puts his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to his body as possible.
and without a word, in a calming silence, you stay in each other's arms until the sun sets completely. a starry sky now paints the night. you are still glued to each other, your head on your lover's stretched out legs. you admire the stars while he admires you. it's perhaps one of his favorite activities. just looking at you, like the most beautiful paintings in the world. but soon you notice that he doesn't pay attention to the sky and you point this out to him, teasing him.
“look at the sky, it's so pretty” you hum “but you're prettier” he simply retorts, telling the truth. you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh. “never tired of being cheesy” you laugh shyly. “never” he adds while smiling. but he ends up raising his head towards the sky. it is true that the stars are infinitely beautiful. they shine so much, and he can't help but describe them like that, as he describes you the same way. he runs his hand through your hair, eyes anchored to the stars.
“do you see all these stars?” he asks and you hum in response. "i would hunt them all for you if you asked me. i would bring them all to you if that's what you want. ask me to bring down the moon and i would do it without hesitation just for you" he said softly, a silly smile on his lips.
you can’t help but burst out laughing. “how romantic” you tease him but deep down you melt, feeling so confident after all those sweet words. he lowers his head to look at you, smiling fully.
he admires you for a moment, take in your features. his heart never stops beating faster at the sight of you, even after weeks of being in a relationship. and he leans down to finally kiss you, his lips capturing yours perfectly. gosh he loves kissing you so much, he might never stop. he pulls back and pecks your nose.
“love you always, my introvert girl” he smiles softly.
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records
So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2. 
Welcome to Reader-Lore
2003
The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two. 
“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book. 
The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust. 
The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded. 
The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed. 
The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger. 
Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other. 
“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.
The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.” 
“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.” 
“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed. 
“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.” 
The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.” 
“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted. 
“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers. 
The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from. 
The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child. 
“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen. 
The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.” 
2008 – Five years old 
The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence. 
You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had. 
You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet. 
You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet. 
You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that. 
You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks. 
The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for. 
You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle. 
But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes. 
You wished someone looked at you like that. 
“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step. 
The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had. 
“And our winner, Max Verstappen!” 
That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.
But you were hungry. 
You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart. 
You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart. 
By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found. 
“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet. 
“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on. 
Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?” 
“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.” 
“Exactly. Now get in your kart.” 
You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!” 
But you were determined to prove them all wrong. 
By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong. 
You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win. 
He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee. 
You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply. 
You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you. 
You won and there was nothing to celebrate. 
2015 – Twelve years old 
Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less. 
He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.
But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face. 
He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him. 
“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet. 
He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance. 
“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead. 
You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.” 
Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity. 
He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!” 
You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did. 
When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.
And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years. 
His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. 
You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting. 
He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right. 
You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off. 
Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations. 
Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so. 
2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)
Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.   
You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start. 
You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you. 
But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding. 
Just no more. 
You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep. 
Your breath shuddered at the thought. 
You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break. 
You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far. 
Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you. 
But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself. 
Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. 
Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew. 
Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them. 
You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3. 
You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you. 
The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between. 
But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him. 
2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)
It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him. 
He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go. 
“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand. 
The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left. 
You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.
“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.” 
You stood and kissed his forehead. 
“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.” 
His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell. 
But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back. 
One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop. 
They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed. 
You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you. 
You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too. 
You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine. 
And just fine you were. 
You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career. 
One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him. 
So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name. 
You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them. 
This time, they did it to you as well.  
You knew you made it. 
I’ll do it for you, LoLo. 
December 2024 – Twenty-one years old 
Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side. 
“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes. 
“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.” 
“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.” 
The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep. 
“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.” 
A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky. 
“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had. 
“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.” 
The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face. 
The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot. 
“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.” 
The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them. 
“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio. 
“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!” 
Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust. 
Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question. 
Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.” 
The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win. 
The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.  
“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?” 
Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.” 
The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.” 
The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy. 
David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.” 
You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing. 
The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie. 
The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?” 
Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you. 
“I’m ok.”  
The screen flashes back to Oscar. 
He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid. 
The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager. 
The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed. 
He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.” 
“Can you give us an example?” 
“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.” 
A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen. 
Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them. 
“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.” 
The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number. 
“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.” 
Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line. 
“And she won.” 
The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him. 
“Did you know?” 
Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.” 
A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat. 
“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.” 
The scenes now shown are from multiple races. 
The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water. 
You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence. 
A new driver is now in the seat. 
“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” 
“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.” 
The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers. 
“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.” 
A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays. 
“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?” 
Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.
“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone. 
The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.
Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando. 
“You’re right.” 
The camera is back to Charles. 
His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.” 
A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier. 
Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. 
“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”
The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun. 
“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.” 
A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face. 
“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.  
“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides. 
You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.” 
Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.  
The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat. 
The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.” 
You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.” 
“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.” 
You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.” 
The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?” 
You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.” 
“And why is that?” 
You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background. 
“Now that you know you could win a championship…” 
You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.” 
“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in. 
“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.” 
“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him. 
“Yes I would.” 
“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.” 
Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend. 
Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters! 
Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!  
Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost
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Astarion teaching Tav embroidery/sewing. Preferably with him dragging them onto his lap for a close-up demonstration.
Why do I make everything so long? Do I have a problem? There is always so much introspective nonsense idk man. Anyway adorable idea actualized below!
Also mentions of sex but this is totally sfw. I went with the timeline of when your sleeping together but he hasn't quite admitted his feelings to himself, as a side!
~
Astarion had no idea how he became your camp's designated seamstress. How was it possible that a team of eight adults were all incapable of knowing the basics of such a fundamental skill?
Then again, Karlach seemed to be perfectly fine with wearing her clothes to tatters. Wyll was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lae'zel, for some gods forsaken reason, was only capable of fixing up heavy armor. Gale seemed to prefer eating magical clothing items versus being able to salvage them and the rest were mediocre at best.
The look of confusion on Shadowheart's, who was the second most skilled by far, face when Astarion tried to explain a ladder stitch was enough for him to give up entirely. It was quicker to fix the tears then to explain simple concepts to simpletons.
Brats. All of you. With one who was significantly more brazen than the rest when it came to using Astarion as their personal tailor.
Tav, the lovely thorn in his side. Who could handle wielding a glaive with startingly accuracy, but somehow managed to consistently stab themselves every time they picked up a sewing needle. It was impressive, how useless someone who was otherwise extremely competent could be.
Impressive as it was frustrating. Because somehow you managed to destroy your clothes more often than anyone else. Always bashfully handing him over torn trousers and ripped shirts every other night. Anyone else he would have told to fuck off by now. Even the rest of the camp knew better than to test their luck with anything more than once a fortnight. But you lacked the very basic level of self-control.
It was his own fault for giving you special treatment in the first place. But sleeping together did warrant a few extra benefits. He got your protection and you got to experience the pleasure of being with him. Simple. Or it would have been if you didn't insist on making things complicated.
Because Astarion was starting to feel things. Things that he hadn't anticipated. Because your company was... oddly pleasant. You were an interesting little thing, he had to give you that. Well-read and talkative, but not boringly so. No, Astarion sometimes found himself losing track of time when he was with you. A simple question could easily turn into a two-hour conversation about the silliest things. It was... nice. New. And oh so different from what he was used to.
Cazador didn't even allow him or his brethren to speak in his home, let alone speak to each other unless it was strictly necessary. But here he was free to do whatever he pleased. And he was finding that included being near you, despite how differently you both saw the world.
He couldn't quite blame you for your delusional optimistic views. As a Tymora worshipper you were basically doomed from the start to believe inane concepts like good fortune, luck, and gods, the good that could be found in "anyone".
You were as sweet as you were aggravating and Astarion truly, honestly, had no idea how your insane trusting nature hadn't managed to get you killed yet. But then again he... kind of liked that about you. He liked that you trusted him. It made his life more convienet and... it was nice to be seen as a person worth confiding in. Instead of the blood-sucking monster he really was.
He... liked that. He liked you. A fact that he didn't enjoy thinking about. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the implications of where his feelings could lead were starting to become unsettling. So he pushed it out of his mind. It was an easy thing to do when doom was always looming in the background. He had plenty of things to think about that didn't include his fondness for you.
Like the inner-rage you caused when you managed to somehow rip the same shirt twice in one day.
"That's it," Astarion announced when you bashfully asked for his help yet again, "Come here. I'm teaching you how to sew."
"But you always get mad when you try," You whined. But despite the hesitancy you still obediently sat next to him as he got out the sewing kit, "Do you promise not to snap this time?"
"That depends," Astarion said with a roll of the eyes, "Do you intend on not maiming yourself with a sewing needle?"
Astarion smirked at the way that made a blush crawl up your neck, "That was one time!"
"Actually darling it was closer to seven," Astarion corrected as he snatched the shirt from your hands, "Now pay attention. Look at where the tear starts. Notice how it's on the seam?"
You nodded along as Astarion explained the basics to you. He could tell that you were trying your damndest to pay attention, but when it was your turn to hold the needle your hands couldn't stop shaking. Astarion frowned as he tried to watch you work, his view obfuscated by the angle and the flow of your hair.
Well that wouldn't do.
Before he could think better of it he was hauling you into his lap, ignoring your surprised squeak as he situated you just right.
That was better. At least now he could see what you were doing. It was a sloppy stich, sloppy enough for him to undo it before putting the needle back in your hand.
"Now do it again," Astarion ordered, "Let me see what your doing wrong."
Astarion watched as you tried again, frowning when he realized your shaking was even worse than before. In fact, you seemed more nervous than ever, your face red as you kept your eyes down.
It made Astarion torn between watching your hands and looking at your face. You really were adorable, getting all worked up from simply being in his lap, all while trying to stay dutifully undistracted. He could almost hear your heart racing, obvious through the tension coursing through you.
Silly little thing, acting all shy like he hadn't already literally been inside of you. But at least you were doing better, your stitching straighter than Astarion had ever seen it. Maybe he'd have to make the lap-sitting mandatory from now on, for the good of your learning.
"See," Astarion said softly, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in closer, "You're perfectly capable of learning this."
"So it looks good?" You asked, taking a chance to glance at him. Astarion hadn't realized just how close the two of you really were. He had never... seen you like this before. So closely. Even when you slept together, he had been a bit distracted by other parts of your body. He never noticed just how many light freckles were hiding across the bridge of your nose, how your eyes looked almost golden in candlelight. You smelled nice too, sweet. Like you had been rolling around in a field of lilies. Considering your personality, Astarion had to wonder if that's exactly what you did.
It would take almost nothing to press your lips together. Barely a turn on the head.
"Astarion, are you listening?"
The sound of his voice snapped him out of his revelry. He straightened, clearing his throat as he looked over your work again, embarrassed in a way that he couldn't quite describe.
Maybe you weren't the only one being affected after all.
"It looks better," Astarion said honestly, "But still needs work. You'll almost certainly be needing more lessons."
Preferably like this. Astarion wasn't quite ready to let you go yet, not when you felt so pleasantly warm in his lap. But luckily enough for him, you didn't seem quite so keen to leave.
Astarion tightened his hold on you laughing at the way it made you gasp, "But that's enough for today. I think you've earned a reward. Don't you?"
"I-yes?" You said back, your eyes flitting from Astarion's mouth and back, "Please?"
You really were too precious. How could he possibly say no to that?
Astarion grinned as he tilted your chin up, finally pressing your lips together. It was an odd feeling, kissing someone when he couldn't stop smiling, but he supposed you just had that effect on him.
Maybe being the camp seamstress wasn't so bad after all.
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signedkoko · 5 months
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Heyo! I return!!!!
Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?
🦷 anon! <33333
Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]
In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.
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Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?
To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'
According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one
Alastor found these little whispers amusing
Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board
All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you
Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord
Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming
But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized
Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not
Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star
Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors
Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance
To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you
You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus
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Oh my god he is so stupid
But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius
At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be
Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life
So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it
You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour
Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)
Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives
I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo
" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "
He gets really defensive about you, though
Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you
But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them
Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors
He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you
A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo
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Honestly exactly his type
Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?
The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular
Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey
He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status
So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out
Two idiots in love
Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him
He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound
He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist
Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way
Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc
Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics
But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness
And confidence gets you far
" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "
" Isn't it once a month? "
" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "
" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "
Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave 
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Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
Text
based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)
🤍 also on ao3
Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.
His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.
Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–
It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.
He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."
No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".
No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...
No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.
He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?
The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.
He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.
Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.
---
He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.
Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.
He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.
The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.
"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.
After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.
"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."
He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–
Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.
After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.
"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.
"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.
---
He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.
It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.
And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”
It makes him want to scream.
Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.
“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.
“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.
“Nothing.”
She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“
“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”
“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.
That’s why Robin is here, right?
The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.
She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.
“Steve, they’re kids.”
“Yeah, well. So am I.”
He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.
He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.
But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.
---
And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.
But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.
“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.
“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”
“Hey!”
“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”
“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.
She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”
“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.
“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”
The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.
“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.
“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.
“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”
“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.
“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.
But it also hurts.
Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.
The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.
He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.
Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.
Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.
And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”
Steve nods. “Sometimes.”
Eddie hums. “That sucks.”
He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.
“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”
Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.
“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“
“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.
“You what?!”
“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”
“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”
And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.
But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.
Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.
And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.
“It’s okay, Dustin.”
“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”
“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.
“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”
“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”
He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.
“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“
“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”
And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Shut up.”
And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.
“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”
“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”
“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”
She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.
“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”
“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“
“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”
“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”
Right. The end of the world.
With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.
Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.
He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.
---
In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.
They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.
"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.
"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."
He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.
The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.
That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.
Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.
"Will you be okay, Steve?"
"Sure."
Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.
"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."
"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."
Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.
"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–
"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.
Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."
"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"
Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."
"Hey, that's my part."
"Say it when you come back, then."
This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.
"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."
And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.
He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.
Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.
It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.
God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...
He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.
But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.
"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."
And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.
They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.
Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.
It's over. It's done.
They did it. They really did it.
Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.
---
Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.
"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.
"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."
"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.
Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.
"Uh, what's going on?"
Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."
Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–
"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."
He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.
Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."
"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."
"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.
"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."
"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.
"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."
"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."
"Hey!"
"No, she has a point."
Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.
"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."
And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.
"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."
"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."
"He’s our brother," Dustin says.
"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.
"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.
“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.
“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.
---
In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.
Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.
And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
New Romantics
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!
a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!
LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!
New Romantics - Taylor Swift
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.
The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.
It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.
You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.
You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.
The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.
The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.
This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.
There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.
Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.
“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.
The boy held out his hand.
“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”
Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.
Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.
The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.
You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.
He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.
You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.
“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”
You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.
Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.
You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.
She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.
Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?
Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?
“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”
The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.
“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”
He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.
“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.
“I said apologize, dumbass.”
He glares at Clarisse.
“You’re fucking insane.”
She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”
“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.
Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.
The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”
The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”
Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.
The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.
She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.
She brushes her thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”
She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.
Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.
—-
clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are
—-
1K notes · View notes
shanastoryteller · 1 month
Note
ROSES ARE RED, AND THIS IS BEDONKS
CAN I PRETTY PLEASE HAVE SOME PERCY AND TONKS 🌹💖
“What’s going on with Percy?”
Kingsley looks ups from his paperwork to find Amelia looming over him. Not exactly a common occurrence, since he’s well over a foot taller than her. “Brooks?”
“Merlin, don’t speak to me about Percy Brooks,” she says, pulling a face. She’s the one who brought him up! “Weasley.”
He blinks several times, rolling through Arthur’s children until he lands on the appropriate redhead. A bit uptight, considering his parentage, but Molly can fret with the best of them up until she gets fed up and settles matters with her wand. “I could get Tonks in here, if you want.”
“Do they know each other?” she asks in interest. “They were in different houses, and a couple years apart.”
How does she know that? He knew that, but it was against his will. “Tonks is dating him. Or trying? I’m not totally clear on the specifics despite her best efforts.”
He hadn’t anticipated how much work it would take for him to dodge a trainee determined to complain to him about her love life. It speaks well of her future in the field, at least. Or poorly of his own abilities, but he’s fairly confident in those, so he’s comfortable giving her the credit here.
“Great, a harassment case waiting to happen for our department,” she says dryly.
He rolls his eyes. “The only person he’s complaining about it to is Tonks. Who takes it as encouragement. Which, considering the cause and effect, it very well might be.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Amelia says. “What’s what this kid?”
Kingsley is lost again. “Can you get a little more specific?”
“Crouch’s department has become efficient, and dare I saw, effective over the last couple months. It’s certainly got nothing to do to with Crouch, since he’s been useless for nearly a decade. The only thing that’s changed is Percy. Who attends every meeting, claiming Crouch sent him to take notes, and then memos and policy get signed and sent out of Crouch’s office when I know for a fact Crouch is too busy harassing me to do his damn job.”
He tries to avoid the obvious answer because it’s the most ridiculous. “You think it’s him?”
“Who else?” she returns.
Well. “Do you… want me to arrest him?”
“What good would that do?” she demands. “The department is operating smoothly for once. I want to know what his deal is. Is he loyal to Crouch? Plotting against us? Just really passionate about bottom thickness?”
Not according to Tonks.
Uhg.
If he was alone, he’d bang his head on his desk until he’s unable to remember what Tonks’s voice sounded like and then maybe he’d know peace.
“Everyone’s got to start somewhere,” he says. “You’re noticing. Maybe that’s what he’s after.”
“I’m noticing because I notice everything. He’s taking significant steps to ensure people don’t notice. How’s he supposed to get promoted that way? Or transferred?” She shakes her head. “He’s doing it for a reason. Do me a favor and find out.”
Why can’t she ask him something simple, like hiding a body or burying evidence?
Now he has to spend his lunch break listening to Tonks talk about her not-boyfriend.
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moonastro · 2 months
Text
peoples first impression of you
pick a picture
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left to right(top)-> 1,2
left to right(bottom)-> 3,4
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as I would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!
***IMAGES ARE NOT MINE***
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pile one-
people perceive the resilience that you give out, they are aware that you are not easy to mess with and you aren't as careless as they would have though you are. People often see you as closed off, most likely because of other worries of occurrences in life. You have this courage that is very noticeable and often people see that you are fearless. They see no weakness in you, you will approach life with full confidence and power. Sometimes, you can break your cool but its not because you are needy or arrogant, its because you cant stand unfairness, people notice your ambition to fix a problem especially when it is so obvious. Yeah, you have a very fixed presence and most people can be quite scared to mess up, this can be because of your facial expressions or you could be someone that is hard to impress especially with new people as you don't show your inner self to them yet. Yet you might be seen as someone gullible too. you also can be perceived as someone with their head up high and ignoring their surroundings. This can make it harder for someone to approach you as they see that you are someone who may not be in the mood to talk to people. you may struggle to trust your intuition and you may just take the leap without thinking much of it with the mindset of whatever happens- happens.
first that people notice: your physical health (you may workout or are in great physique), your beauty, your style of clothing (may be very put together and neat), your smile, your limbs.
your vibe to other people:
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chic, modest, unbothered, chill, independent, cool, grounded, intellectual, business oriented, career opinionated, vintage, fashion
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pile two-
people may not necessarily notice you, this can be that you don't show yourself or you just prefer to observe from afar. Yeah, people notice how you isolate yourself so they rarely see you hence why others don't see you very much. This may also be that every time someone sees you, you may not have changed that much in terms of style, appearance or attitude which may leave them not have a new impression of you. people notice how you are stuck with old patterns. this may not be a bad thing its just what others observe about you. there is lots of loneliness and others may think you are struggling with something but they feel that they cant help you because you wont allow them. they feel useless. you may have lost someone close or these transformative occurrences keep happening so you may be in constant mourning and grief and may not have time to heal. this is not the end of the world though, they may think that you have something that others may want but you are too focused on he negative. you are very good with words. you have a poetic way of speaking and when you do people are fascinated. people notice your way of thinking and how you come up with solutions very easily and quickly. you may write a lot maybe journal and get your worries out on a piece of paper.
first thing that people notice: your walk, your head pieces (may be headband, ribbon, hair clips and whatever else you wear on your head, may even be glasses), your right hand (may wear significant jewellery on that hand, your clothing colours, odd style.
your vibe to other people:
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eccentric, colourful, tired, unbothered, baggy clothing, indie, untidy style, unconventional, alternative, eyes blocked/ covered, unapproachable
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pile three-
people notice your positive view of the world, you may talk or have relations to other people who like your attitude and they may give you job related opportunities. you have good news with money so people give an impression that you are financially stable. you may not like to be in big groups and may not work as well in a team. this may make you quieter that you are or this may make you feel small and useless. you also may not address problems and keep them in. people usually only hear you speak about the positives in life and they wonder what you truly go through as you don't really address those topics. you are rather serious and don't take things lightly. you can take some things too seriously and people notice that about you. you take whatever you have and make it work for you. you are very vocal about your possessions and are not afraid to show off your ideas and abilities. yet, others notice how you work with whatever you are given and you do it well. you are proud of your creations and skills and are not afraid to use them and show them off. people see you as someone who is very proud of themselves. you are quite flirty in nature, you tend to show off your financial earnings in order to get others attention. you are every good with emotions and others see your empathy and interest through your expressions- this makes you very approachable and friendly. people feel like you are someone who they can trust in the long run. on the other end, you constantly regret your actions from the past which can change your mood completely. you have matured well and others notice that.
first thing that people notice: your creativity, your potential (you seem like someone who is on the path to success), your inspirational nature, your ideas, your fighting nature, your motivation, your hair.
your vibe to other people:
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classy, successful, positive, fiery, showing your legs/arms, confident, powerful, smiley, expressive, formal, sexy.
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pile four-
you are very hardworking and are always keen to learn and master your skills. people notice how patient you are and very detailed. you take time to get to know something so you will be able to teach someone else. people notice your ability to teach and coach others. you are are very peaceful soul, very laid back and very reserved. you will give others the chance to shine instead of yourself and i feel like only some notice that about you. you sometimes are on the verge of giving up and you are vocal about it. yup, you always give give give. you are the most selfless person that anyone knows. you are so generous that most people can think you are putting up an act but truly you believe that what you give out comes back to you. people notice your curiosity, you may question a lot of things and ask lots of questions to other people. you may also observe and talk about the things others don't care about. you always seek the truth and it may be why you question everything as you wish it would give you answers.
first thing that people notice: your pet (may walk your dog a lot of you may spend time with an animal a lot), your leadership, your vision, your determination, your honesty, your stubbornness, your friendly nature, your structure.
your vibe to other people:
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casual, simple, comfortable, easy going, in your own world, warm, natural, open, free, informal, effortless, sincere, not extra, relaxed, placid, flexible.
That is all!! thank you so much for reading, have a good day and i hope something amazing happens today.
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bluexiao · 1 year
Text
#second lead syndrome… or is it really?
–when they couldn’t confess their love for you, thinking you love someone else / seeing you with someone, looking in love, how would they react?
CHARACTERS. Albedo, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Cyno, Heizou, Kazuha, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer / Scaramouche, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader
THEMES. Some angst, some crack, and some fluff, (pick your fighter); non-established relationship (yall are not together, just friends)
NOTES. first ever multi hc for this year! yayy happy new year everyone~
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ZHONGLI knew he was a god, and you weren’t. And even still, a part of him dreaded—desired you in a way that he never thought he would in a human. You were supposed to be one of his people.
But now he loves you more than that. And there only lies the question if you love him too.
Yet despite the dread to hold you in his arms and to proclaim of such mortal feelings he had attained for you, he holds back and forces himself to watch from afar. For a god like him has no reason to meddle with the fate of humans like you—no matter how he claims to be a mortal himself with the name he bears now.
And so, all he could do was watch you from afar, eyes fixed as if he was watching a theatre play unfoldon a stage that he chose to be an audience to, whereas the main lovers fall for each other, and all he could do was watch.
But then your eyes suddenly met, your smile like the sun that scorched his being, a gentle wave with your haand as you cal his name; “Zhongli! Can you come over here, will you?” It wasn’t even his real name, merely an identity he had chosen to keep as a result of wanting to live a mortal life.
A mortal life.
Maybe he should try living more with that—with you, he hopes.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
XIAO has no use for love. Such a measly thing it is—to devote oneself to another with just mere feelings and empty words of promises.
And so Xiao stands on the top of the inn, looking down, his spear nowhere to be found, arms folded over his chest, and gaze directly focused–your way.
You were talking and laughing at a certain human, looking ever so comfortable as you usually do with him–or maybe you were always like this to others, and that includes him.
Then, as if you had sensed his presence, you looked up to where he was, but he was far gone, disappearing as if he was never there. If he had only stayed and seen the frown on your face, he wouldn’t have had to waste his time hiding away from you.
Xiao, he soon realizes, does have a use for love, as this ache inside his chest is something he cannot quell just by merely equipping his spear and defeating monsters.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
WANDERER was never such a patient man. And besides, he isn’t even human.
It took a while to accept his… circumstances, and once he does, he will be very obvious with his so-called “feelings”, usually sticking to your side most of the time and glaring at practically anyone who would so much as dare to glance your way.
And as much as he is always near you, he will eventually notice whoever you will pay attention to–especially ones that would be constantly haggling over your sight. But he doesn’t do anything about it–doesn’t confess, doesn’t try to talk and ask to confirm his suspicions. Does he need to? No. He does not need affirmations because he is perfect enough to not need one–a perfect being who did not need such things as “love”, or “partner”s.
The words will die down in his mind when he sees you with someone else, however, form already right beside you as he finds himself glaring at whoever it was, “Oh realy? I can do that ten times better than you can,” he’d bark, already mocking at everything that the person does or claims themselves to be. Don’t misunderstand the Wanderer, he just thinks that this stranger is just too useless, you don’t need to waste your time over them.
‘But they’re human, unlike you,’ a voice inside his mind would say, but bites his lips, not letting that slip through his mouth.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
VENTI sings praises and is full of love. He is the god of freedom and the wind. He is a bard for goodness’ sake.
“I am but a simple bard, how in Teyvat would they even see a person such as I am worthy of them?” he cried theatrically as he took a chug of his wine–or whatever it was in the bottle in his hand. But no matter how much he looks, the weight in his heart was very much real nonetheless, the memory of you with someone else plaguing his mind.
A god such as him losing to a mortal over your love. What could anyone possibly say if they hear of such a tale? Perhaps he may just end up writing a song of his broken heart to somehow ease the pain. At least thatw ay, he could Mora…
But one must never underestimate a god’s love… as eh might find himself crawling back to your arms tomorrow morning.
He has a lifetime to win your heart, after all.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
TIGHNARI felt his feelings of care for you were normal. Of course, maybe he only favors you among the rest, even against his fellow rangers.
And something so normal is not supposed to bother him even in times when he’s supposed to be focusing. The forest is an unpredictable and dangerous place.
“What seems to be bothering you, Master?”
He halts from his tracks and turns to the other, “It’s nothing, Collei.”
But it’s not really “nothing” if he ends up walking away after reprimanding you and one of the other rangers for “lazing around”. And yes, that same one who had been lurking around near you lately, especialy when he’s not around.
Clearly, there must be something going on between that person and you. Of course, he could not possibly let anyone be so lax with this work, even if it’s you.
“You’re probably jealous, aren't you, Master? Aren’t you and Y/n dating?”
Colei can see and atone to how the other freezes—his tail and ears as well, and all he could do was watch as Collei giggles at him while nudging him with her elbows.
“Master and Y/n look very good together, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret if that’s what you want!”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
For once, KAZUHA was out of words.
Peace can be associated with silence, but silence is not always at peace–and now, the wind was completely silent.
“Not going to Y/n, kid?” Beidou stands next to him with crossed arms as they both have eyes focused your way. She sighs while she shakes her head, “Are you letting them go that easily?”
He feels his stomach drop, but the ghost of a smile on his lips masks the feelings he has inside. “They don’t belong to anyone but themselves, and that includes me,” he looks away and turns around, the breeze slapping his face just as much as reality does, “they are free to love, even if it will not be me.”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
HEIZOU knows everything.
But this one he just found out is probably one of the things he just wished he didn’t find out.
Well, technically, it was a good thing!, he says to himself. After all… he always teased you and now, he probably did the right thing instead of… telling the truth.
Ah, by all means, he is no hypocrite. But, he does wonder when you had liked another person, and why? Surely, he had made himself known to you, with your daily meetups and banters, and you were even his “partner” in a case once. Perhaps he relied in his ability far too much that he forgot purpose for all of his efforts.
The least he could do was to support you in the sidelines… right? Surely he doesn’t like you that much to remain helpless in this situation.
When he saw you with that person the next day, he knew his resolve was far gone.
He must definitely find out what made you fall in love with this person…
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CYNO does not know what he was going to do. And so, what does he do?
He hides in the corner and observes.
Of course, he can just walk right past both you and the person who you’ve been eating lunch with for the past hour, but for some reason, he can’t. Something about the scene right in front of him makes him want to interrogate the person; what their job was, who their family are, what other things they do—they cannot possibly hang with you if they have a bad record. All the more, what if they have bad intentions towards you?
And so, with his mind made up, that was what he does. At least, intends to do until you saw him and he met your eyes.
“Cyno! There you are, I’ve been waiting for you!” Once you had caled him oevr, the person scrambles up an excuse and runs away as soon as they can, even stumbling over a few times.
All Cyno could do was watch as the perosn runs away and sighs, sitting right beside you and crosses his arms.
“Who was that? What do they do? Are they from the Akademiya? I haven’t seen them before.”
“Oh, I don’t know, they just came here and sat in front of me.”
He is definitely hunting down that person until his questions are diminished.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
What AYATO wants, Ayato gets.
Of course, that does not mean that he treats everything or everyone lightly, on the contrary, he does what he can to attain anything or anyone that he sees as valuable. With someone of his caliber, it would not be too difficult to get people to turn his way.
You, however, was someone who piqued his interest. Yet despite this, he lets you be, not doing anything… until he had seen you with someone else—a retainer of another Commissioner.
He reasons with himself that he only stepped beside you and piped in to the conversation out of being wary towards the other retainer—eh coudl not possibly have you, his friend, to be too exposed with the works of the Tri-Commision now, right?—and with his position and words, the retainer soon walks away.
“Now that they are gone, what do you say about having tea with me this afternoon, Y/n? Unless you have a scheduled date with that… retainer.” He tries to mask his disbelief, and thankfuly, you didn’t notice.
He ignores how you looked away, seemingly flustered for a moment as you mumble a small “Sure… and we’re not dating, master Ayato… it’s not like that.”
He looks away with a smile. Certainly, this is far better.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALHAITHAM is rational. Most of the time.
“O-Of course, The Scribe must be very knowledgeable, compared to a lowly person like me,” says the other person that Al-Haitham did not really catch the name of right after he just questioned the person’s intelligence (very subtly at that).
“Oh come on, you’re not lowly-“
“This is why it is important to raise our knowledge, even to the little things, as we do not know what we might encounter. If you want, I can even refer you to the Akademiya, you don’t need to thank me.”
“I-I’ll think about it… thank… I mean, see you later, Y/n… and Scribe Al-Haitham,” the person sooner leaves without any more fight.
“Hey…. What is it with you? Something ruined your morning or something?” You npeered at him and he merely looks away whilst clearing his throat.
‘We were losing our time. I wanted to eat our lunch as soon as possible. Why? Are you suposed to be on a date with that… person?”
“What? What on Teyvat are you saying?” Your reply makes him crack a smirk. Of course, he was right. How could he even think that you were dating that person… at least, he won’t let that happen.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALBEDO respects you a lot. A whole lot.
Yet that respect comes with admiration, and sooner, he realizes that this admiration might have been stronger than he had thought the moment he saw you with someone else.
He does not engage, however, merely waiting until you had finished your conversation with that certain someone, looking quite joyful than any time else, more than the times you had spent with him, actually.
“Albedo! There you are,” you grinned at him after walking away, even looking back at the figure of the person you had talked to.
His eyes peers at you like a hawk, taking note of everything; with the brightness of your smile, to the shine in your eyes, and to the giggle that erupts from your lips.
Had he ever seen such qualities in your face before? He couldn’t help but question himself as you send him one as well.
“Sorry, just got immersed in the topic… shall we go?”
He forces out a smile—which seemed real nonetheless, “Of course.”
“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side, “Is something the matter?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he immediately answers, thinking that you probably had noticed his staring. He raises his hand and smiles, “shall we?”
He squeezes your hand when you willingly took his. Ah, maybe he could be greedy… just this time, he thinks.
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comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡
taglist on reblogs!
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missblissy · 6 months
Text
Domestic Astarion x Reader HCs
A/N: UwU just wanted to add to the married life headcanons after the events of the game. Fluffy good stuff below. GN!Tav, no class/race. Enjoy!
Some days always started better than others. But that’s only to say because someone didn’t need as much sleep as you, and had a life time left to learn new skills. One of them being cooking. Sure Astarion can’t taste and it’s a useless skill to him. But you? He would do anything for you. And that includes learning to cook for the sheer simple act of spoiling you with a warm and home made breakfast in bed.
It’s strange to say you two never had a wedding. That’s not to say you two weren’t married. “Oh…?” Astarion isn’t sure how to explain this when someone asks, “Well, you see, my darling little love here found this-” He holds up his hand and wiggles the ring in his finger, “On a rotting old skeleton then found the matching one, get this, on another smelly corpse!” Most people wouldn’t look fondly on something like that. But no, Astarion wasn’t most people. He’d smile and swoon, “And I suppose since then we’ve been married,”
It doesn’t help that back then when you did find those rings, you quite literally told him, “We’re married now,” As a joke. It wasn’t joke….
Astarion has a habit of leaving you poems to find in the most hidden of places. Like little lost treasures. Or maybe he just knows the looting demon you are at heart with your little grabby fingers going for anything they can touch. So it always comes to a surprise to you when you open a book and a poem written years ago flutters out… but the love and truth still rings pure despite the yellowing of the pages.
Crimson sons, vermillion daughters. Quivering maroon, burgundy, cardinal. Short fainting strokes Fester a broken carotid Free from feathers Unbound By the serpent's head no more.
His way of saying thank you for everything you've ever given him. And then some. No matter the message you cherished each treasured poem you would find.
The man had a knack for spoiling you, unconditionally, and most importantly, endlessly. If you saw something out in a shop that caught you eye, but you were just to stubborn to get it for yourself. Surprise, surprise when you get home and find it there with a man beaming proud like a puppy with his bone.
But that didn’t mean affection was off the table either. Astarion spoiled you with kisses, big ones, little ones, some on the back of your hand as he opened a door for you. Others on your cheek, gently but with sorrow as he left for some few weeks for whatever reason. He had his own things to do and sometimes you couldn’t go with him. But that just meant when he got home you could throw your arms around him, breathe him in and share the long awaited kiss of his return.
Married life strangely suited you both, from the little grabbing of hands under tables, the protective placement of an arm, the look of pride when the other did something extraordinary. And Astarion would always be the more boastful in pride when it came to talking about you.
And he couldn’t help but show off, sure he’s loud and arrogant about it. Saying he was best option of course, no one else stood a chance… blah blah blah. But when no one was around he can look you in the eye and practically grovel, “I am so lucky you chose me,”
There were many other things that came with the long life of being married together. The two of you were quite dedicated to learning to… dance. Astarion hadn’t a clue wether his left foot was right, and you may have been no better. It was your idea really. You heart would swoon watching other couples and with an eager voice you pointed a finger and declared, “I want to do that too!”
And so you did, but behind the close doors of your own home. Seeing as Astarion didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of so many people. Where you both could trip and side step and laugh, giggle and make the most out of learning something new together.
It seemed the two of you had a habit of learning things together. From silly little drawings, to paintings, perhaps an instrument or two. You both always found a way to share your hobbies and passions together.
And it was the mornings, where these happened most often. Naturally Astarion couldn’t be in the sun but that didn’t stop him from enjoying what little light he could. You’d find him in the dusty dusk right before the sun actually broke the horizon.
He had been teaching himself to play the piano, so to wake up in the morning and not hear the soft echos of keys down the halls would be a bad sign. It’d be another bad sign if you didn’t sit down beside him, stroking the keys as the two of you played a song that was always in the process of being made and never done.
Surely soon he’d go off to sleep, sharing kisses and affection. You wouldn’t see him again until the evening, when the sun was starting it decent. Day-phobia was real in vampires no matter how much they loved the sun and he didn’t have a worm anymore to help him fight that. But he managed, enjoying every sun rise and sun set he got to see just as the world of night came and went.
Despite staying up all night sometimes just to be beside him, it was fairly often that Astarion would have to nag you to go to sleep. You’d barely have even one eye open, drifting back and forth between dreams and you’d still tell him, “I’m not tired, I’m just resting my eyes,” All because he was up late in kitchen and you didn’t want to leave his side.
He often compromises though, making deals and barters, “If I go upstairs with you, will you go to sleep?”
“…” Surely you aren’t going to say no? “Will you be the big spoon?”
“Of course,” How could he say no to a face like yours? And such a sleepy one too?
He didn’t mind, not really. Some nights he’d stay in bed with you until the morning. Even though nothing would get done, or things he had planned were set aside, he wouldn’t sleep either, he truly really didn’t mind. He could lay there for eternity holding you close and be at peace.
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shogunish · 5 months
Text
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟮]
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synopsis. satoru knows you're the closest thing to a mother megumi will ever have.
contents. reader battles with a kitchen stove (it was funnier in my head), a lil' bit of megs/reader bonding, soft and tired toru
words. 1.1k
note. pls lmk what you think bc i feel like my writing has gone 📉📉📉 but anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, THE APPLE OF MY EYE, MY GLORIOUS BLUE EYED KING 💕
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
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as promised, you're watching over megumi for the day. he's a quiet and somewhat shy kid who doesn't talk too much, but you're certain the little guy will warm up to you once he sees you around more often. you can't blame him; after all, you're basically a stranger in his home who's suddenly spending time with him until he passes out and satoru comes back home from work. you'd be a little reserved as well if you were in his shoes.
“so megumi, what would you like for dinner?” you kneel down to megumi's height and flash him a kind smile, head tilted to the side and hair framing your face.
megumi regards you for a moment as if he doesn't really want to say what he wants, but the smile on your face, the warmth you exude is enough for him to speak up. if he already gets to choose, he better make it count. “..macaroni.” he says, a pout on his lips.
“macaroni it is, buddy.” ruffling megumi's hair, you're quick to move through the kitchen, finding the noodles, preparing two pots and filling one of them with the right amount of water. everything goes as planned until you're faced with that fancy kitchen stove that does absolutely not work like the one you own.
damn satoru and the salary he uses to buy expensive shit like this.
you know it's a touchscreen model, but whenever you do put your finger down and the thing beeps..nothing happens. the stovetop doesn't even turn red to indicate that it's on and so you put your finger down a couple more times only for nothing to happen.
a lump sits in the back of your throat, cold sweat coats the tip of your finger. your heart skips a beat. if you can't even figure out how to operate your newfound nemesis of a stove, megumi would go to bed hungry and satoru would definitely be severely disappointed in you!
you can't let the attractive single dad think you're useless.
you cannot let megumi starve.
stuck in your own panic, you fail to notice how megumi has watched your..conflict by peeking over the countertop. even his dogs give you a somewhat confused look as if they could sense your emotional distress over a stove of all things. the boy walks over, nudges himself between you and your self-proclaimed nemesis and brings his finger down on the touchscreen of the stove like he's never done anything else in his life.
beep. beep, beep.
apparently, it's that easy to get the water to cook.
dumbfounded, you stare at megumi, then at the stove and back at megumi. you have to look hilarious with your lips parted into an o-shape and your eyebrows almost shooting up to your hairline if megumi's little laugh is anything to go by. “..that's amazing..how did you–”
megumi shrugs his shoulders, his usual deadpan expression back on his face. “i always watch dad when he cooks. it's not..that hard.”
you groan out loud, but a little chuckle laces into the sound. “..i'm too old for this stuff.” with pouted lips, you let megumi explain how to increase and decrease the heat, how to turn the stove off and on. it really is a lot easier than you initially believed.
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when satoru finally comes home, the skies are already darkening. hues of dark blue and a hint of purple are slathered across the vast canvas, birds roaming through the air and seemingly returning home to their nests or whatever place they consider home for the night. for a moment, the bustling life of the city ceases to exist – at least until satoru would have to leave for work again.
no emails, no phone calls, no meetings.
clad in suit and tie, buttons opened and tie loosened, a sigh of relief sneaks past his pale lips when the warmth of his apartment welcomes him home. a place which was usually silent, almost void of any life since megumi would be in bed by now. but now, the scent of food lingers in the air, soft snores echo from the living room down the hallway and the tv dimly illuminates the cozy space. driven by curiosity and a grumbling stomach, satoru finds a plate of macaroni on the dining table. in front of it, a note is placed.
“i figured you might be hungry after work. all you have to do is warm it up :]”
cerulean eyes soften behind pitch black shades as they skim over the carefully written note and the silly smiley you drew at the end. you didn't have to do this. satoru could take care of himself, he's been doing it for as long as he can remember, but..in a way, it's nice to be thought of, cared for, even in such small ways you probably didn't put much thought into.
he likes it. likely, a lot more than he should.
satoru trudges over to the sofa in the living room, wanting to thank you for the food, but when he sees you passed out on the cushion, megumi cuddled up to your chest and the two dogs snoring at your feet, the ghost of a smile dances on his lips. you look absolutely exhausted, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of your lips and red crayon smeared on your cheek, but it kind of looks cute on you, satoru thinks.
the sound of disney's bambi on the tv is nothing but white noise as satoru's gaze shifts towards his son, his little bundle of joy. the boy who never had a mother appears so content with his little arms clutching his favorite plushie and his little face buried in the warmth of your chest, snoring just as loudly as the dogs. the kid is beat, just like you.
satoru has to shake his head. ever since megumi was born, satoru wanted nothing more than for him to experience the love of a mother. someone who would offer him unconditional love, attention, would care for him and his happiness in ways that only a mother can, but you are not his mother. you never will be.
in the end, you're still the cute neighbor next door who offered to lend him a hand out of pity and not someone who could act as megumi's mother.
and yet, satoru knows he made the right choice by accepting your help.
this is the closest thing megumi will ever have to a mother.
a sigh, heavy enough to be conflicted but quiet enough to drown into the late hours, slips past satoru's lips. with quiet steps, he fetches a blanket from his bedroom and tosses the soft fabric over megumi's and your sleeping form.
"thank you." he breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.
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taglist. @torusmochi, @ayanominitrash, @erigaur
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