#this was difficult but like... in the way more that she says it differently in these songs? idk what i mean do you? lol
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Can't do this anymore
Mapi Leon x reader
You and Mapi are best friends and roommates but there always seems to be something else between you
(I adore Mapi and Ingrid but we’re gonna pretend she doesn’t exist for this)
Masterlist
“Wow, someone’s looking good. Hot date or what?” You rolled at Mapi as you entered your living area. Your roommate layed stretched out on the couch, where she often was, with a book in hand, peering over the top of it with a teasing smile on her face.
“Yeah, Patri’s trying to set me up with some girl she knows. I’m hoping that by agreeing to this one she’ll quit trying to do this all the time.” You weren’t exactly excited for this date, something made clear by your deadpan voice as you talked about it. You were the token single friend in your friend group and you were tired of all of them bugging you about it, constantly trying to set you up. You only agreed to this one in hopes of shutting them up, something that always proved to be difficult.
“I don’t get why you’re so afraid of talking to girls. You never know, maybe you could bring this one home with you and have some fun?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “I can disappear for the night if you want?” Her sing-songy voice was a hallmark of her usual teasing towards you, both of you used to the fact that she was the one most likely to bring random girls home while you would panic the second a girl made eye contact.
Despite your differences, the two of you made the most perfect friends. You had lived together for a few years now, saving on rent while also enjoying each other’s company. You were more of a homebody, often appreciating her help in crosswords or sharing books with her while she was the one who got you out of the house, not allowing you to be too much of a homebody. You were the perfect duo and everybody knew it, being more comfortable with each other than with anyone else.
“Don’t count on it, Maria. I think it’s safe to say you don’t need to plan on disappearing. I’m just going to go have dinner with her and maybe grab some drinks if it goes well. That’s it.” You gave her a knowing look as you put your shoes on and got ready to leave.
“Keep an open mind, you never know, cari. I’m going out with the girls later but you can always give me a call if you need a ride or anything. I’m not drinking tonight so I’ll leave my phone on for you!” And with that, you left the house, off to meet your date.
Your date was fine. The girl was fine, the food was fine, the conversation was fine, it was all just fine. It wasn’t anything special. You didn’t know her at all, obviously, so you felt like the conversation was forced and unnatural. Something about it just left you feeling unsatisfied, seemingly having nothing in common with this girl and therefore nothing to talk about. You couldn’t quite decide what made Patri think it could work out between you but you were over it, your social battery depleted, opting to end the date early so you could go back to the comfort of your own home. Every one of these dates that your friends set you up on left you drained and even more anxious about the idea of ever finding a significant other.
When you trudged through your apartment door after not being gone for all that long, you weren’t surprised to find Mapi exactly where you left her on the couch. All she could see was the look of annoyance on your face as you slipped off your shoes and made your way to join her, dramatically flopping yourself onto the couch next to her. “I’m guessing the fact that you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went?” Her eyebrows rose as she set her book down on her chest to look at you.
You shot her a glare in response, answering her question for her. The defender raised her hands up as if to surrender, “hey, don’t be getting mad at me, I’m on your side here.”
“Ugghhh, I know. I’m sorry.” you sat up to finally look at her. “I’m just tired of this shit.”
“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?”
“I don’t know, I’m tired and I-”
“Cari, listen to me. I think it could be good for you. You can stick with us the whole time, we won’t make you talk to any girls or tease you about it at all.” You scoffed at her words, knowing how unlikely it would be for that to happen.
“You’re gonna stick with me? Zorri, I guarantee you’ll have your tongue down some girl’s throat in the first ten minutes we’re there.” Her face feigned shock, seemingly offended at your words as you giggled, knowing you were right.
“Okay well maybe I won’t stick with you but Patri and Pina will!”
“I don’t know, Maps. You just wanna get laid, tonight. I can tell it’s been awhile cause of the stick you’ve had up your ass lately so I think I’ll sit this one out.” You burst out laughing, once again knowing you were right while she started smacking your shoulder. The two of you both broke into a mixture of giggling and hitting each other before trying your best to calm down.
This was the nature of your relationship with your Mapi. The two of you were constantly teasing and bullying each other, both of you knowing the love you held for each other. You saw right through what she wanted from her night out, and decided that you just didn’t have the energy to join her, or more accurately, join your other friends, in their night.
“Mapi, while I appreciate the invite, I’m gonna stay here. But you have fun! I just need a night in.” You stood up from the couch to retreat to your room, stopping briefly to turn back to your friend right as you reached your bedroom door. “And Maria- don’t sleep with that bartender tonight. I know I said to get laid but I don’t mean her. As your friend I’m telling you, something is off about her, so please bring home any other person instead.”
The defender rolled her eyes at you but you knew she’d take your advice seriously. Every time you went out, the same bartender would spend the entire night flirting with Mapi. She hadn’t done anything wrong, per say, but something about her just rubbed you the wrong way and all you knew was that you didn’t want Mapi bringing her back to your apartment. Maybe it was just the way she looked at her or how drop dead gorgeous she was behind the bar, but it made you slightly possessive over your best friend.
With that, you retreated into your room for the night, allowing Mapi to go on with whatever she had planned and for you to get occupied by your thoughts while you attempted to watch a movie. However, all you could think about was how right Mapi had been when she teased you for being so afraid of talking to girls. You had thought about it some before but could never figure out why you were that way. The only girls you were ever all that comfortable around were your teammates and even so, it wasn’t unusual for you to still tense up around them at times. Mapi seemed to be the only one who you truly could let down your walls around no matter what and something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
You couldn’t figure it out. She was your best friend and she had been for years, why would you suddenly be questioning how you felt about her? It’s not like anything had changed? So why should your feelings be?
The more you thought about it, the more it absolutely tore you to pieces, eventually resorting back out to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea in hopes of being able to get to sleep eventually. You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Mapi was quietly opening the front door, sneaking into the kitchen under the assumption you would already be asleep.
You didn’t hear her enter, scaring you half to death when she suddenly started speaking to you, “You’re still awake? You okay? Something on your mind?” when her voice broke through your thoughts, you jumped, grabbing your chest as you caught your breath.
“Jesus, Mapi! You scared the shit out of me, what's wrong with you?!”
“Ay, calm down, I didn’t mean to,” she held her hands up in surrender. “Are you okay?”
You sighed, unable to actually be mad at her. “Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t an entire lie, but there was no way you could tell her what you were actually thinking, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I see you’re home alone. Couldn’t find any girls willing to put up with your yapping, huh?”
“Oh don’t worry, my mouth would have been far too busy to be yapping.” You almost spit out your tea, shocked by her response while she smirked at you, giving you a small shrug once you calmed down. Mapi’s plans for her mouth were certainly not something you needed to be thinking about at the moment. “I just didn’t really feel it tonight, I don’t know.”
She joined you at the table, stealing a sip from your tea as she did so. “You should’ve seen Patri and Pina tonight, cari. Those two were crazy…” She continued on and on, filling you in on everyone’s antics from the night, while you just listened. It was easy for you to be completely captivated by her as she spoke. You were used to her talking nonsense and you just listening, always getting lost in how excited she got and how her smile grew the longer she spoke.
Eventually Mapi noticed the way you struggled to keep your eyes open, completely exhausted by the previous day, and helped you up. “Time for bed, you’re hardly awake. Also, don’tbemadatmebut I told Patri about how your date went so don’t be surprised if you hear from her tomorrow. Goodnight!” She rushed out her words, barely understandable, conveniently right before you went to bed and were too tired to actually be mad at her like you would’ve otherwise. Hardly even processing what she said, you decided you could handle Patri in the morning and went straight to bed, finally too worn out to be kept up by your thoughts any longer.
You slept in late, later than you normally would, hearing Mapi already up and doing things on the other side of your wall. When you eventually emerged from your room, you were shocked at the state of your best friend. “MAPI! What the fuck!” There she was, casually doing her laundry, in nothing but a sports bra and her underwear.
“Que?” she genuinely looked confused by your reaction, somehow unsure as to what your problem was.
“Since when does laundry day mean walking around in your underwear?!”
“Well otherwise you can’t clean all your clothes. Cause the one’s you’re wearing are still not clean so you still have more laundry to do. So I figured why not just wash everything?” She acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world while you kept your eyes glued to the floor, worried that you’d get caught looking somewhere you shouldn’t. You could only hope that she wouldn’t notice the slight blush that was rising to your cheeks.
“Mapi, somehow you still find ways to surprise me even after three years of living with you.” You shook your head at her, trying to hide how flustered you were while you sat down on the couch to check your phone.
Somehow, you’d already missed a variety of messages from Patri regarding your failed date that she had set you up on. Normally you’d ignore her or tell her off for bugging you about always being single, but for some reason you decided to entertain her today. Maybe if you agreed to more of her setups and put in more of an effort, it could get you out of whatever weird headspace you found yourself in the night before. Whatever it was you were feeling about Mapi, you needed to put an end to it and hopefully some more successful dates could be the solution you needed. So in a lapse of judgment, you agreed to meet up with another one of Patri’s friends that night. Her source of single, lesbian, friends seemed to be endless so she was overjoyed when you finally stopped putting up a fight.
There you were once again, getting ready to go on yet another date that you weren’t too excited about. You were trying your best to have a good attitude but it was harder than you expected.
“You’re all dressed up,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at you, mimicking the exact conversation you had had 24 hours earlier.
You let out a sigh, already regretting your decision to do this. “Yeah, I let Patri set me up with someone else, so I have another date. We’re just getting dinner so I shouldn’t be out too late, especially with training tomorrow morning.”
“Wow, you’re really putting yourself out there,” she paused for a moment, almost looking… disappointed? But the defender quickly changed her tune, doing a complete 180, “You have fun, chica! Keep an open mind and my phone’s on if you need anything! You can always give me a call!”
“Gracias, Mapi! I’ll see you later? Adios!”
You set off towards the restaurant you agreed on, deciding on walking as it was only about a twenty minute walk and the weather was nice. If nothing else, the walk could help clear your mind before you had to meet this girl for real.
You were about five minutes early so you were the first one there, leaving you to get a table and wait for your date to arrive.
The girl was a total stranger to you, not even having her number, only knowing that somehow Patri knew her and set the whole thing up. So you sat with your glass of wine, and waited.
After a while you checked your watch. It was now ten minutes after your agreed upon time. But that was understandable, right? Ten minutes was no big deal, she was probably just running late. You double checked your texts with Patri to make sure you had the right time and place and went back to waiting.
There you sat, getting more and more anxious for every minute that passed. This is why you hated things like this; dates always just filled you with anxiety. You’d already received plenty of looks of pity from the wait staff, and weird glances from the people dining around you. After it reached thirty minutes past your meeting time, you gave Patri a call which she of course, didn’t answer.
When it hit 45 minutes, you decided you had had enough. Tears had started pooling in your eyes from a mix of anger, embarrassment, frustration, and anxiety. You shakily got up from your table, apologizing to your waiter and paying for your wine as you did so. As soon as you reached the front door, you saw that it had begun to rain, instantly deflating your mood even further. You knew walking home would be the thing to fully send you over the edge so you decided to call your Mapi to pick you up.
“Chica, estás bien?”
“Mapi, can you please come get me?” Mapi could hear the exhaustion in your voice, obviously trying to hold back tears.
“Si. Si, I’ll be right there, I’m leaving right now.” You could tell from her voice that she was rushing, coming to your rescue as fast as she could. She stayed on the phone as she drove, speaking nonsense in an attempt to distract you until she arrived about five minutes later.
When you got in the car, she looked at you hesitantly, clearly wanting to ask what happened.
“Maps, she stood me up.”
“Oh, cari.” Her hold body deflated at your words, “I’m sorry. I swear, when I see Patri tomorrow I’m gonna kill her. Why would she try to set you up with some shit girl she knows? I can’t stand that! You deserve better than that, you know that, right? You deserve someone who will treat you like a fucking queen, and I-”
You interrupted her by setting your hand on her thigh as she drove. “Mapi, it’s fine. I appreciate the sentiment but it’s fine, it’s not Patri’s fault.” The two of you settled into a comfortable silence- both of you lost in thought, unknowingly for the same reason.
“Thank you for picking me up,” your voice was hardly audible.
“Of course. I told you, I’ll always be here for you if you need anything. It’s no bother, really.”
“You’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here picking me up from a stupid restaurant in the rain?”
“Where else would I be right now other than the couch? Sure you might have to answer to Bagheera, but I think she’ll understand.”
You returned her soft smile, although your thoughts were more conflicted than ever before. “I just can’t help but think this is more effort that most people would put into a friend.” Both of you were silent as she parked the car, not quite sure what you were getting at. You didn’t quite know either, if you were being honest. Your emotions had taken over all sense of logic and all you could think about was the girl sitting next to you.
“Let’s go inside, order some takeout, and talk, si?” You nodded and followed her inside, terrified of the direction your conversation would be going in.
Once you got inside and changed from your nice clothes, you both settled on the couch next to each other. “Hmm, nice sweatshirt you’ve got there.” Mapi raised an eyebrow at you as you sat down, looking down at your clothes in confusion. You hadn’t even realized that in your mess of an emotional state, you had put on a hoodie that was definitely hers, instantly comforted by the familiar smell.
“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I had it. I’ll wash it and get it back to you tomorrow.”
“Oh no, mi amiga, keep it. I like seeing you in it.” suddenly her voice had gotten much quieter than usual.
“Mapi, don’t be ridiculous, this is one of your favorites.”
“No, I mean it. You’re keeping it.”
You felt tears brimming your eyes once again and tried to blink them away, partially from your emotions from the night catching up to you, and partially filled with appreciation for the girl in front of you.
“Amiga, are you crying?”
“NO. No, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
“Vale, vale, bien. You’re not crying, I’m just gonna give you a hug, because I want to then, not because you’re crying, because you definitely aren’t crying, I’m just giving you a hug for no reason.” You rolled your eyes at the way she smiled at you, seeing right through you like she always did before pulling you into a hug. Mapi always seemed to know you better than you liked to admit, allowing you to instantly relax in her arms. “You’re adorable.” she mumbled into your shoulder, quietly enough that it took you a second to process her words that she likely didn’t intend for you to hear.
“What’d you just say, Mapi?”
“Hmm?” she pulled away to look at you. “Oh. Nothing.” Her head shook quickly, as if she had no idea what you were talking about, something that made you smile at her once again.
“Maps, I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this but I don’t know who else to tell other than you and I just need to get it off my chest.” She looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. “I’m always so scared of girls and dating and all of that.” You looked up at her, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you know that already.” You were met with an encouraging smile as you thought about what you wanted to say next. “But I never could figure out why I was so scared. I just could never get comfortable with anyone and I think I’ve always been terrified of getting hurt if I let my walls down. But lately I feel like I’ve realized that you’re the only person that I ever feel completely comfortable with. And you’re the only person that I’m not worried about hurting me. And I don’t know what to make of that, and it scares me, and you’re literally my favorite person in the world, and I just-” You took a deep breath in an attempt to prevent yourself from getting even more worked up. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
Mapi was silent in thought for a minute but reached out to grab your hand, her way of letting you know that she wasn’t upset but just needed a second to think before responding. When she finally did, her voice was shaky and much less animated than you typically heard it. “You know how I am with dating. You know I’d rather just hook up with people and play around.” This was not at all what you expected her to say, raising your anxiety even further. “I never saw myself being able to settle down. It was always too scary. I’d rather put no feelings into it and just have fun than risk someone else fucking me up. But something about you, changes that for me. There’s a reason I haven’t been hooking up with anyone lately. You were my best friend before you were anything else, amor, and I don’t want to put that at risk.” Her eyes glanced up at you hesitantly, barely whispering out her last words, “But you make the idea of settling down seem easy.”
If you thought you were confused before, it couldn’t even compare to how you felt now. Your mind was running on overdrive, trying its best to make sense of her confession. You’d never in life seen Mapi look so scared and vulnerable, something that was saying a lot as you had seen her at some major low points. She was hardly making eye contact with you, and was more fidgety than usual- picking at her nails and tapping her foot.
The defender took a huge deep breath, before giving your hands a squeeze. She could easily see the way your thoughts were spiraling and knew she would have to be the one to say what you were both thinking.
“Why don’t we stop pretending we still think of each other as friends? Cause I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”
You looked up at her surprised, just now realizing that she was serious in sharing the feelings you had. “Mapi are you for real? And don’t fuck with me right now, cause I swear-”
She giggled slightly at your reaction, stopping you in your tracks, “En serio, amor. Prometo.” You could tell that she was. Her face was as serious as she ever was.
“Then let’s not be just friends anymore.”
You hardly realized the way the two of you had drifted closer throughout your conversation, both of you speaking much quieter, only a few inches apart. “I want to show you what you deserve, treat you like the queen you are, and show you how much I love everything about you.” Both of you were looking all over the other’s face, your eyes bouncing from her lips, back up to her eyes, and taking in everything in between. If you could memorize every freckle in that moment, you would’ve.
“Then do it, Maps.”
There was maybe only an inch separating you, but for some reason she was still scared of messing it up. "Am I reading this wrong? If I am.. push me away." Your noses brushed together as you could feel her breath on yours. When you didn’t hesitate at her words, she took that as the approval she needed, instantly pressing her lips against yours. The chemistry between you was more than either of you had felt with anyone else, finally doing exactly what you didn’t realize you had been waiting for along.
Hope you enjoyed! Requests are open and appreciated!
Masterlist
#barcelona femeni#woso imagines#barca femeni#fcb femini#woso x reader#mapi leon imagine#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#mapi león#maria león#maria leon#maria leon x reader#wosoreading24/7#wosoreadingmapi
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wasted like all my potential * fem!driver
jury's out: everything officially fucking sucks
pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: again i apologise for this taking so long apparently now that I'm kinda mentally no longer struggling with a 12k assignment, I've lost all feels to hurt rocky but no woRRIES IT'S COMING TO AN END SOON
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
just another day listening to her team explaining another change to the car and another day where she hopes that it all works out in her favour.
she glances out the window of the meeting room, finding the usual corner that’s typically occupied by matt, still empty. she sinks in her seat and folds her arms over her chest as she desperately tries to dial herself back into the meeting.
she catches liam’s eye across the table, the kiwi lifting his eyebrows with a small nod to acknowledge her. she smiles tiredly at him before sucking in a deep breath and returning her gaze to the empty table in front of her.
it’s just another weekend where she tries to save both her and the team’s faces. how long can she keep up the act of having things together in front of the media?
something’s gotta give.
when the meeting ends, she simply picks herself up and is the first one out of the room. sebastian, who’d been sitting next to her, simply sighed to himself as she walked out.
it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of her lately. it’s not just something only he’s noticed, it’s happening to everybody else in the team. since they’d touched down at the airport for the race weekend, it’s even a miracle to get her attention for 5 minutes.
she’s always reserved or simply preferred her own company.
it’s apparent with every single person she interacts with. the girl used to be able to uphold a conversation by her talking alone, but now everything’s minimal. conversations never last more than a minute and she’s always found in her driver’s room by herself.
at first, he concluded that she was unhappy with him. which, would be perfectly fine, seeing the current state of her race weekends. he’s more shocked that she hasn’t blown up in front of him yet.
not a single scream, an utter of frustration… not even a tear shed in half a year and truthfully, it’s almost worrying.
“you’ve got to tell her before she finds out from elsewhere,” sebastian mutters, patting liam on the back as they leave the room. “she’ll be even angrier if it doesn’t come from you.”
“have you spoken to her lately? i don’t think i’ll even get a reaction out of her,” liam whispers back, pointing at the girl walking up the stairs by herself with her head hung low. “do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak to her?”
“yes,” sebastian says with a scowl, “i literally talk to her every weekend.”
liam gives him a knowing stare. “then you should know how unreachable she is nowadays.” he pushes sebastian in the direction of the stairs. “maybe you should speak with her first before i go in there.”
sebastian scoffs, stumbling forward. he turns around and stands next to liam again. “no way. you’re not sending me in there to fight a war by myself.”
“do i really have to? can’t she just find out like everybody else if it goes through?” liam scowls with a sarcastic laugh when sebastian nods.
sebastian pushes him forward. “go and tell her before the media gets a hold of these things and leaks it before you get the chance to break the news yourself,” sebastian says. “let’s not cause a commotion where it’s not needed.”
“fine,” liam mutters, stomping a foot on the ground. he fixes his team shirt and sucks in a deep breath, trying to rehearse his lines in his head. it’s one thing to get the courage to speak to her nowadays, but being the bearer of somewhat bad news is an entirely different situation.
he takes a step forward and looks back at sebastian, throwing him a mean glare. meanwhile, the older man just flashes him a bright smile and an encouraging nod.
he runs up the stairs and calls out to her. the girl stops and turns around. her straight face almost makes liam jump back, not expecting to be greeted so suddenly.
“yes?”
“i uh,” liam huffs and straightens his shirt, “i need to talk to you.”
she tilts her head, “is everything okay?”
liam smiles. seems like he’s caught her at a great time, which should make this slightly easier. “of course. i just need to tell you something; it’s important.”
“oh,” she raises her eyebrows and points down the hallway, “do you want to sit down and talk about it? that serious?”
he shakes his head. he just doesn’t want her to burst out at him. especially that he’s not one to know how to handle her if she breaks. “i can just tell you now,” he shrugs, making his way up the steps to meet her at the top. “but i want you to know that it’s nothing personal.”
nothing personal. so it has something to do with her? she feels her heart start to race in her chest and the room starts to spin. she bites down on her lip and starts to pick at the skin around her nails. “did i do something?”
“no,” liam shakes his head. “what? no, you didn’t do anything. is everything okay?”
she blinks, “yeah, why?”
liam sucks in a deep breath and eventually decides to brush it off. “well, i wanted to let you know that i’m getting offers from other teams for next season.”
he watches her expression change, contorting into an expression he’s not quite sure how to decipher it. so he quickly tries to undo it. “i haven’t signed anything yet. but you know… with the year we’re having, i want to keep my options open. i’ll tell you if something catches my eye.”
he stumbles back, not even realising that she’d made her way down to him, throwing her arms around him. “i’m so happy for you, liam. you deserve to have options.”
he looks down at her body, tightly clinging onto him. “really?”
“of course.” she takes a step back and pats his chest. “you’re the best teammate ever. any team would be lucky to have you as their driver.”
she climbs out of her car with a grumble, half annoyed and half amused. amused that her luck has continued its plummet with every weekend she spends in on a track.
she snarls down at her car as she tears her helmet off her head. “you’re a stupid car,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “you’ll never be anything like last year’s car. you suck.”
she is fully aware of how crazy she sounds, and looks, telling an inanimate object off. but as of late, it seems those are the only things she can vent to that won’t turn its back on her. the only thing that won’t retaliate when she needs to scream at it.
“if i could kick you, i would,” she mutters with a scowl. “i’d break you apart like a fucking lego set if it wouldn’t get me fired.”
she feels a tap on her shoulder, whirling around to find sebastian smiling at her and her phone held in the air.
“matt’s calling you.” she nods and reaches out for her phone but he pulls it back at the last second. “are you okay? i know quali wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but they’re looking into it to make the car better for tomorrow.”
“seb,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed frown, “you say that every weekend we’re in here. are you not sick of saying that?”
he drops his hand. “well, one of us needs to keep our head up with this season we’re having.” he smiles slightly and offers her the ringing phone. “you shouldn’t let it get to you — you’re still a great driver.”
“that’s not what it feels like lately,” she mutters, grabbing her phone from sebastian. “i should be able to make a car work. it shouldn’t matter if it’s good or bad.” she glances down at her buzzing phone, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. she presses the decline button. “i’ll be at the media pen if you need me.”
she watches from the window in her driver’s room, her friends all gathered up, walking towards the gantries to exit the paddocks. they’re leaving to head for dinner without her after she’d refused their offer again.
oscar had approached her in the media pen to invite her out for dinner with them but she’d just not been feeling it. which would make this the 5th invitation that she’s rejected in 11 race weekends. oscar didn’t force her anymore; just simply shrugged and took her ‘no’ as it is.
which somehow made her feel even worse. which is even funnier, considering that just 2 races ago, she’d been wishing for her friends to invite her out after days in the paddocks. but there was something about her best friend taking her answer point blank without another word.
it feels so… isolating.
what if they’ve finally gotten tired of her rejection? what if they’re tired of her?
she whirls around to face her room. it’s messier than she’d usually keep it, her team shirts are lazily hung on the back of her chair and the sofa, her makeup is sprawled messily all over the table with a half-empty coffee cup that she had silently with sebastian for a strategy meeting.
the framed picture of her and sebastian is up on the wall again, with some attempt from sebastian to help her put it up again. she wishes that he’d never offered to help her put it back up. every time she looks at it, she remembers all her former glory and how far she’s fallen now.
and by meeting, she means that he spoke the entire time while she sat there nodding and smiling politely while thinking about how bad the car would be once she got in it.
and liam is leaving. well, he’s not technically leaving yet but seeing how their year keeps going down, it’s likely that he would. and she’s got a contract for another 3 years — where the hell is she going to go? nowhere because she has to stay here.
but everyone seems to be leaving her after her behaviour. but it’s hard to stop feeling this way.
how can she not feel this way?
if liam’s finished in the top 5 in the race and she’s out of the points, what does that mean for her? she’s just half the driver she was, she thinks.
she finds herself in the bar after feeling the need to be here. liam now holds the record for the highest finish for her team this season, after all. and she’s not about to be labelled a sore loser by not being here at all.
though she could almost predict being the talk of the town with her tucking herself in the corner of the club half the time they spent in there. people always find a way to vilify her actions anyway.
but in a way, she shouldn’t have come out of her hotel room. she shouldn’t have gone anywhere knowing her state of mind. she hasn’t had a drop of liquor in her system for a hot minute, but the minute she was reminded of its glorious taste, she couldn’t hold herself back.
she’s on her knees in the back alley of the club they’d dragged her to, hands planted on the gravel as she struggles to hold herself over the drainage. she takes deep breaths to steady herself, blinking in desperation to steady herself.
“fuck.” she shuts her eyes momentarily, taking another deep breath as she feels a sob and another urge to vomit. moreover, her chest hurts. could it be from drinking too much too fast or is it something deeper than that? she can never tell.
“hey, you’ve been– rocky?”
“don’t,” she sobs, holding a hand up quickly to stop whatever else could have come out of the man’s mouth. she balls her hands against the gravel, the pain of dragging her skin against the rough material doesn’t register, but it does cut into her skin. “whatever you’re going to say, keep it to yourself.”
she feels a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and suddenly there’s someone kneeling on the ground next to her. she feels her hair getting brushed back, held into a makeshift ponytail. “i won’t,” liam mutters, slouching slightly. “what do you need? a glass of water? do you need me to take you back to the hotel?”
she shakes her head as another heavy sigh passes her lips. “i don’t know.”
“i’m going to get you a glass of water from the club, okay?” liam hums, squeezing her hand. “please don’t go anywhere. i’ll only be away for a second, stay conscious.”
she nods through staggered breaths. her hair falls past her shoulders to cover her face and the warm hand on her back is replaced by the cold wind.
she grabs liam’s arm just before he gets up. “don’t tell anyone about this.” she turns slightly. her red eyes and puffed cheeks almost made liam want to stay and cradle her until she felt better then and there. “please.”
there’s something about seeing someone — her, specifically — get wasted. she’s always prided herself as someone who can take her liquor, so this was a whole new look that, honestly, he didn’t want to get used to.
how exactly do you try and relight the spark in someone who seems to dwindle away with every weekend that passes?
he doesn’t ever speak up, but he spends the most time with her out of everyone at this point in their lives. he knows; he notices. it’s hard not to when the tension in the air always seems so heavy.
liam nods. “of course.”
“i’m going to miss you,” she says with a frown, resting on her knees. she unzips the pet carrier and she cups kidnapper’s cheeks and tenderly pets his head. “i just need some time but i can’t take care of you right now.”
the cat simply tilts his head and tenderly lifts its head to rub the top of his head on her cheek. she wraps her arms around kidnapper and sighs.
she knew the day would come, sooner or later, that she couldn’t really take care of kidnapper. sure, he makes her apartment feel less isolated but it’s slowly becoming harder to take care of herself and the cat alike.
there are hours when it feels like a task to get herself out of bed for herself. much less for a cat that depends on her to be taken care of.
so she zips up the carrier and wipes her tears off her face. she composes herself before she forces herself to her feet. she knocks on the door and waits for an answer.
“must be someone we know if you’re not barking!” she hears logan laugh, followed by footsteps and then stubby’s loud footsteps against the hardwood flooring of his apartment.
the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas with a small grin. right by his feet is stubby, wagging his tail happily at her with a large smile and hopping on the spot at her sight and scent. “rocky,” he says in surprise with a small grin.
he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she’d been easier to reach lately. but in the passing weeks, it seems that she’s started to pull away from him and oscar.
it’s always a nice surprise when she shows up to his apartment unannounced. but with the familiar carrier by her feet, it makes him wonder what really brings her here. especially considering that she’s practically gone off the grid every single time they’re not in the paddocks for a race weekend.
she completely ignores their messages.
“what are you doing here?”
she had a whole speech prepared the entire time she walked over to his apartment building. a lie about needing him to take care of kidnapper for her while she spent the next couple of weeks in the states with matt.
but she ends up with, “i need someone to take care of kidnapper.”
“of course,” logan grins, tilting his head. “is everything okay? have you been crying?”
“watched a sad movie before coming here,” she forces a laugh out of herself, pointing at the carrier. “you don’t mind, do you? just a couple of weeks — i’m going out of town.”
she wasn’t expecting to make conversation with logan. in fact, that’s the entire reason she’d planned a speech prior to coming here with her cat in tow.
“we don’t mind,” he smiles. “arkansas with matt’s family, i suppose?”
she nods, “yeah.”
how exactly do you talk to your best friend who feels like she’s always a thousand miles away? “well, um,” logan hums, “do you want to come in for a drink? maybe a snack?”
she should accept the offer. “i’m leaving tonight, actually. i still have a lot of packing to do,” she feigns a frown, “maybe after i get back?”
logan nods with a grin. “sure. take care, dude, and have fun.”
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#sebastian vettel x reader#logan sargeant x reader#liam lawson x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 female driver#formula one x reader#fem!driver#f1 fem!driver#female driver#disneyprincemuke vr#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#vettel reincarnate
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Crush
Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)
Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.
Word Count: 3807
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.
Personal Favorite 💖
Masterlist
‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'
You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.
Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.
Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.
Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.
Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.
You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”
Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.
You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”
Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”
“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.
You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.
Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.
For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."
Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."
While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.
Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."
“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”
“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.
Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”
You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”
Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.
Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”
“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."
A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.
But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”
“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”
His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."
Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.
His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.
As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.
Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."
Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."
Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.
Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”
Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.
With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”
His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”
“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”
Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.
Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”
Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.
Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.
“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”
Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.
During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.
Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”
“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”
“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.
“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.
Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.
“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.
Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”
“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.
Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.
Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.
“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.
With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.
“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.
His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”
His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.
“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.
Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"
You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.
Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.
Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.
Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.
When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.
Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?”
Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.
“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”
‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.
“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.
“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.
“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.
His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.
Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.
“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.
Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.
Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”
You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.
“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.
Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.
“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.
“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.
Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.
Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.
You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.
“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.
“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.
“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.
Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.
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Hi! I really love your work. Like man you have me kicking my feet like I'm 12 again.
Anyway to the point, I was wondering if I could request a Cubby Reader with insecurities and how each chatcter would handle that. (Lucifer, Vox, Asmodeus + Fizzi, Emily and any other you might want to inculde) It's my first time ever requesting something, I hope I did it right.
Thanks you so much, and again I really love your fics.
Headcanons Self-doubt
🖥 Vox x Reader 📱
You have worked for Vox for a long time and often you have worked with him, as well as with Velvette and Valentino. Despite this, you were quite insecure in yourself and because of this you had problems. Vox knew you better than the others, because you were dating, and he knew what you could really be in a comfortable company, and therefore he helped you feel more confident
Vox often rebuked his friends when they said rude things about you, covering it up with a joke. He knew that you could take their words to heart and he wouldn't be surprised if that was their goal. That's why he acted as your protector, knowing that you needed help sometimes
He saw how confident you were when you were alone. You were open and confident when you spent time together. He tried to help you behave as confidently with the others as when you were alone, but so far you haven't had much success
Vox knew that he couldn't be with you all the time, so he tried to help you become more confident and be able to defend your views. You were in Hell, which meant that you needed fortitude and self-confidence if you didn't want everyone to take advantage of your insecurity
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍
Lucifer and you met at the hotel. He saw that you were uncomfortable talking to him and he thought that the reason for this was that you were afraid of him. However, everything turned out to be wrong. From his daughter, he learned that you were quite insecure and because of this it was difficult for you to communicate with strangers. That's why you were so nervous when you talked to him
Watching you, Lucifer realized that you were a really good person. He saw how you sincerely smiled at your friends and helped them. Charlie and Vaggie cheered you up, which made your self-confidence grow. He tried to get along with you at the request of his daughter, and the more you talked, the more open and confident you became. You were changing right before his eyes and he liked to see you confident in yourself
Lucifer has started to help you become more confident. He praised your work, supported you and reminded you how wonderful you were. He wanted you to see yourself the way he saw you and realize that even if someone says bad things about you, they weren't right
The King of Hell knew well what it was like to lose self-confidence. He remembered how he felt when his dreams crumbled to dust. Lucifer didn't want you to go through this, so he tried to help you become more confident. He was sure that through the joint efforts of you and your friends, your confidence could become stronger
👁 Emily x Reader ✨️
Emily did a lot for others. She sincerely wanted to make others happy, including you. You were one of the people closest to her and she truly cherished you. You were kind, attentive and caring, but you were insecure, which caused difficulties in your life
Emily knew you had a lot of potential. You could do a lot of things and you had wonderful talents, but you doubted it. At such moments, Emily would vividly remind you that you were really wonderful and that you were talented. She was ready to shout about it to convince you of it and protect you if someone said something bad about you
Emily helped you become more confident in yourself. She came up with different exercises that you did together so that you would believe in yourself and your strength. Most of the time, these were verbal exercises, but they were also important so that you would doubt yourself less. Seeing how every day you become more confident in yourself, she couldn't help but rejoice
Emily sincerely cherished you and wanted you to be happy. She was trying to help you. Emily wanted to see how you courageously communicated with others, how you defended your opinion and were not shy about sharing your ideas. She knew that it was still a long way off, but she intended to continue to help you
🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕
Fizzarolli and Asmodeus knew that you were insecure. You were cozy and caring, but because of your self-doubt, you couldn't be as brave as Fizzarolli and even more so Asmodeus. That's why they tried to be there for you to remind you how wonderful you were
You and Fizz often spent time together. He was preparing for the performance and you were cheering him on. At such moments, he returned compliments to you. When Ozzie had free time, he would join you and help Fizz make you think better of yourself. Asmodeus saw that it made your life difficult, so he supported Fizz when he tried to help you become more confident in yourself
They both knew that you had many wonderful qualities, but you didn't seem to notice it. You tried to fight your self-doubt and were grateful to them for trying so hard to help you. You really appreciated it
You cherished Fizz and Ozzie and their support. They were the most important people to you and you really became more confident around them. You were ready to move mountains for them. To support and protect them, you were ready to become much more confident in yourself
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#Vox#Vox x Reader#Lucifer Morningstar#Lucifer Morningstar x Reader#Emily#Emily x Reader#Asmodeus#Asmodeus x Reader#Fizzarolli#Fizzarolli x Reader#Helluva Boss#Helluva Boss x Reader#Helluva Boss headcanons
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Hiyaa,
I have a request?
Producer!Bang chan x reader
Established relationship
Angst/comfort
Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.
The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.
Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.
Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺
And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after
creative differences - bang chan
genre: angst, comfort, eventual fluff
pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader
warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity
notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words
wc ~4.3 | moodboard
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:
since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.
the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.
bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.
currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.
letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.
at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.
with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"
he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.
"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.
"which ones?" changbin questions.
han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"
"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."
"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."
"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."
"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.
"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"
chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."
the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.
"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.
"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.
at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."
changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"
han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.
"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."
han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.
"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."
a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.
"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."
"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"
chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."
"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."
"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.
"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.
"that's what i'm hearing!"
"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."
"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."
"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"
the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.
"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."
han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.
"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.
"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."
"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.
"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."
"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.
"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."
chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.
meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.
when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.
"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"
they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.
"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."
"we?"
changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."
your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"
not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.
"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."
you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.
you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.
chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.
"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"
when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.
when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."
"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"
you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."
chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.
"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"
"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.
"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.
"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.
"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."
you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."
chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:
"yeah? sure."
the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.
"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.
chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.
moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.
meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.
"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.
you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"
chan shrugs, "for this. being here."
you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."
you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.
"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"
the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.
you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.
you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."
"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."
chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."
your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.
"thank you," chan repeats.
this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"
"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."
you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."
chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.
in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."
you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.
"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"
you nod.
"really? you're not just saying that?"
you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."
chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.
"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."
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i think one thing that's always been interesting to me is that people really believe/take for granted that the federation's goal is the islanders' happiness, when we really don't have any way of knowing if that's the truth. cucurucho says it a lot, claiming to care about islanders' happiness above all else, and it's been scattered throughout some federation lore (as well as being hinted at with the reset cinematics), but that doesn't mean it's actually true-- it could still be a smokescreen of what they really want. which, imo, is not happiness.
if it's all one big experiment, supposedly one of many, the idea that this one is the one that involves seeing what happens when islanders are happy is not a provable thing still, nor is it clear what that actually means to the federation. does happiness mean the islanders are content to remain on the island? does happiness mean building relationships and connecting with others? does happiness mean self-fulfillment (something deeply immeasurable)? it's not clear what it means to the federation, nor if that is their true goal. it could be that that has nothing to do with their goal, and is a complete misdirect. it could be that cucurucho's prime directive is the islanders' happiness (not that it's very good at that), but that's meant as a tactic to stymie islander curiosity/resistance. it could be any number of things.
and i think viewing it from a more meta lens of "we cannot tell what is or is not the truth; not only are all character povs biased but so is the larger narrative presented to us." i think comparing this framework to something like the good place is helpful, in that when you assume that what you're presented with is the truth and don't look at the setting critically, you will miss the fact that things presented to you as fact by any kind of source (including the framework of the medium itself or the established setting) are suspect and should be examined further.
i can even put it in a smaller way; there are ways within a limited character pov to present things as directly happening when they are not, and these are ways that mcrp creators have utilized. playing out an event that did not actually happen, canonical hallucinations, dream sequences that are not explained as such, physical representations of metaphorical experiences, etc. etc. are ALL things that mcrp creators of done. tricking your audience is an incredibly interesting and at times vital part of mcrp. so if just one creator within their own pov can do it, why can't the whole narrative? why can't you be convinced you're in a different genre, why can't you be convinced that the physical location your characters are placed in is someplace that isn't?
all this to say, i think a major issue in terms of analyzing media like this is allowing yourself to go along with assumptions without thinking about why you're falling so easily into them as truth. making all of your lore assumptions based off the notion that it is objective fact that the federation cares about and has the goal of islanders' happiness means you are going to miss details and fixate on others without looking at the full scope of possibilities. which i think was a serious issue during the height of investigation/mystery stuff-- people fell into the trap of "i KNOW this to be true" without considering the man behind the curtain. sure, cellbit found documents indicating that the federation was founded on isla quesadilla-- considering who sent him on the trail of said documents, who's to say that that's the truth?
i think bagi is a particularly interesting investigator when it comes to this kind of thing-- she's VERY good at holding onto a lot of different possibilites in her mind, even going so far as to act on a lot of them at once, and that means she doesn't take anything for granted. having all of the data in front of you, without attempting to skew it to a theory you already have in mind (which i admit is very difficult to do! humans are biased and are geared towards pattern recognition), is an important skill when it comes to any kind of data analysis or investigation.
anyway idk where i was going with this i just started thinking about like. what is involved in good theorizing and how focusing on something you believe to be fact can lead you in the wrong direction, and i think the idea of the islander's happiness as the federation's main goal is one of those very fraught assumptions people get caught up in.
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Fucked up Monday. 2/3
Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday
A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!
Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?
Warnings: none? I think?
Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)
-5700k words
„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.
You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.
„Wait.." you said, sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.
„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.
You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now
The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.
But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself.
It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her.
Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.
Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.
Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper. You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper. It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship? Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five.
Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.
You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.
"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected. "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.
"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.
"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".
After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.
But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.
You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.
Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.
Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood. But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil. "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.
One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.
You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.
Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.
The day with Sophia didnt end there, it stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.
But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.
After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.
Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up. Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.
And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore.
"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.
"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.
"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff ''You can meet sophia and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.
You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.
"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.
"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.
"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.
You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’
"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."
''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.
I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”
The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know. But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.
The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.
The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.
''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying''
The words cut deeper than a knife,
before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:
"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.
Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.
Why are you with her?
I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,
so the anger inside of me when I see you with her
is something I'm not allowed to feel.
What I feel, I shouldn't show you.
So when you're around, I don't.
I let you walk away with her.
I know I don't have the right to feel it,
but it doesn't mean I don't."
The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.
Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.
Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue. Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.
In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.
——————————————————-
"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“
"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.
"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation
"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.
Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.
In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie." His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.
"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.
"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.
Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.
Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#joel and ellie#the last of us#ellie the last of us#tlou#tlou2#joel miller#joel tlou#ellie#writing#tlou fanfiction#ellie fanfic#ellie fic#ellie williams angst#elliexreader#ellie x fem reader#f reader#ellie x you#ellie x reader#jesse tlou#Jesse#jesse the last of us#dina and ellie#dina tlou#joel the last of us#thelastofus#tlou part 2#tlou game
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how do you make your colours so scrumptious... that's a vague ask but it's like, how do you make the colours mash together well and make sure they don't clash against eachother. And when you do designs, what inspires you to make your agent ocs outfits or do you just make them because they look silly.
hmmm... no.1 i stay away from pure black and pure white. i always use an off-white and a dark desaturated color of whatever i'm using, as well as for when i use grays. here's an example vv
^^ all of the colors on my tai lung come from yellow hues in various shades (if that makes sense). same with my lord shen. the red is a reddish-pink, and the black is, of course, a desaturated and darker shade of the red
i tend to stay in the middle area here, i don't really like to use bright or very saturated colors. another example is when i choose an ink color for marina, i don't use something that's TOO bright, but going for something a little darker to pair with the primary color of her tentacles and her skin
now, here's my chameleon vv
her colors were a little difficult to figure out, but i'd say they work together somewhat...they all fall into the category of being desaturated and such. mainly warm colors with the exception of the green, but i made the red a little pinkish/purpleish so it wouldn't contrast as much
it REALLY depends on the character but most of the time my lighter colors will be less saturated, and for darker colors they'll be saturated. this obviously varies, like with undead characters all of their colors would be a little more muted
i also have a theme i keep in mind for my colors. like with my fantasy marina, i think of olive or yellow-green. the only colors that i don't change (often) in the palette are the skin tones. another example is my young craig design, i think of the sepia filter and...old looking colors? like grayish browns and yellows and stuff like tha.t...i dunno
the main way i learned how to color is actually by coloring...normally? the colors all looked weird and had such contrast, but i'd overlay another layer on top with a solid color, set the blending mode to multiply, and lower the opacity. sometimes i'd do this with the mono color filter instead of a solid color
i also take inspiration from other artists! wolfythewitch is one of my biggest inspos for art in general, great coloring and anatomy. if you're looking for an artist with saturated colors that pop, check out bigskycastle!
now onto the second question...if you mean their uniforms..yeah i just went with whatever looked silly. (OLD ART ALERT ERR ERRR) cap3's uniform is intended to be a few sizes larger since it was most likely supposed to be for val before she got fired. and she wears pants instead of shorts since she wants to cover up a lot
not much is different with maggie. other than the fact that she's wearing a uniform too small for him and it ended up looking weird
but if it's for outfits in general i just scroll through the lists of gear on inkipedia and pick whatever i think the character would wear
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2, 19, and 20 for the fandom asks!
heyyyy thanks for the ask!
2. My favorite fic from the fandom that I’ve read
I LOVE SO MANY!!! let’s narrow it to three…I’m a huge fan of crushinator’s Half Asleep and eleventy7’s Once Around the Sun, but if I had an icicle to my head and had to pick just one, I’d say colourwhirled’s Southern Lights. All three fics rival published books to me, but Southern Lights embodies a lot of things I love about fanfiction as a literary tradition (distinct from original fiction). It’s very, very long, which means we have plenty of time to dive into how different characters grow in a way that’s very difficult outside of long series. Katara’s journey is at the centre of Southern Lights, obviously, but we see a lot from Zuko, Sokka, Azula, Toph, Aang…I’ve compared it to A Song of Ice and Fire before for this reason. Because it’s a full AU, it also takes advantage of our knowledge of canon and works it into something very different, so there’s plenty of “ohhhhh so this is where x happens” and you get that delight of both familiarity and newness. Also the themes of colonialism, trauma, reconciliation, and oppression from your enemies vs oppression from your own people are done in a super mature way. There are no easy answers in Southern Lights, but I feel like the author trusts the reader to grapple with those complexities.
19. Favorite headcanon
Momtara and Dadko for the Gaang! I love the idea that Zuko helps her with chores in the Western Air Temple as a way of regaining her favour, and then he just keeps doing it. We love an equitable distribution of domestic labour.
20. Least favorite headcanon
I like Fire Lady Katara, and I’ve defended it before, but I don’t like the version of the headcanon where the people of the Fire Nation think she’s a savage / peasant and she has to get etiquette lessons and learn to be a FN noblewoman to get respect. I think Katara would sooner pull the “I won the throne so watch your mouth” card than to defer to people who think her culture is inferior, particularly because we don’t have any indication from canon that the Water Tribes are especially looked down upon (more than, say, the Earth Kingdom). And as much as I like Fire Lady Katara, I prefer United Republic Councilwoman Katara or Chief Katara. Both are obviously harder to execute so I understand why fic writers don’t go for them, but I have a serious soft spot for fics that depict her in those ways.
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#this was difficult but like... in the way more that she says it differently in these songs? idk what i mean do you? lol#poll#polls#music#music polls#music poll#taylor swift#evermore#tswift#evermore album#taylor swift lyrics#marjorie#gold rush#lyrics#ivy#willow#right where you left me#happiness#dorothea#tis the damn season#coney island#long story short
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to me, the question of whether hera would want a body is first and foremost a question of autonomy and ability. she has an internal self-image, i think it's meaningful that the most pivotal moments in her character arc take place in spaces where she can be perceived the way she perceives herself and interact with others in a (relatively) equal and physical capacity, and that's worth considering. but i don't think it's about how she looks, or even who she is - and i think she's the same person either way; she's equally human without a body, and having a body wouldn't make her lived experience as an AI magically disappear - so much as it's about how she would want to live.
like most things with hera, i'm looking at this through a dual lens of disability and transness, both perspectives from which the body - and particularly disconnect from the body - is a concern. the body as the mechanism by which she's able to interact with the world; understanding her physical isolation as a product of her disability, the body as a disability aid. the body as it relates to disability, in constant negotiation. the body as an expression of medical transition, of self-determination, of choice. as a statement of how she wants to be seen, how she wants to navigate the world, and at the same time reckoning with the inevitable gap between an idealized self-image and a lived reality, especially after a long time spent believing that self-image could never be visible to anyone else.
it's critical to me that it should never imply hera's disability is 'fixed' by having a body, only that it enables her to interact with the world in ways she otherwise couldn't. her fears about returning to earth are about safety and ability; the form she exists in dictates the life she's allowed to lead and has allowed people to invade her privacy and make choices for her. dysphoria and disability both contribute to disembodiment - in an increasingly digitized world, the type of alienation that feels like your life can only exist in a virtual space... maybe there's something about the concept of AI embodiment, in particular as it relates to hera, that appeals to me because of what it challenges about what makes a 'real woman.' when it's about perception, about how others see her and how she might observe / be impacted by how she's treated differently, even subconsciously. it's about feeling more present in her life and interfacing with the world. but it's not in itself a becoming; it doesn't change how she's been shaped by her history or who she is as a person.
i think it comes back to the 'big picture' as a central antagonistic force in wolf 359, and how - in that context, in this story - it adds a weight to this hypothetical choice. hera is everywhere, and she's never really anywhere. she's got access to more knowledge than most people could imagine, but it's all theoretical or highly situational; she doesn't have the same life experiences as her peers. she has the capacity to understand that 'big picture' better than most people, but whatever greater portion of the universe she understands is nothing next to infinity and meaningless without connection and context. it's interesting to me that hera is one of the most self-focused and introspective people on the show. her loyalties and decisions are absolute, personal, emotionally driven. she's lonely; she always feels physically away from the others. she misremembers herself sitting at the table with the rest of the crew. she imagines what the ocean is like. there's nothing to say that hera having a body is the only solution for that, but i like what it represents, and i honestly believe it'd make her happier than the alternatives. if there's something to a symbolically narrowed focus that allows for a more solid sense of self... that maybe the way to make something of such a big, big universe is to find a tiny portion of it that's yours and hold onto it tight.
#wolf 359#w359#hera wolf 359#idk. processing something. as always i have more to say but it's impossible to communicate all at once#it's a meaningful idea to me and i think there's a LOT more that can be done with it thematically than just. the assumption of normalcy#so much of hera's existence is about feeling trapped and that's only going to get worse on earth and within these two contexts#that's something i really feel for. especially with. mmm.#i don't like the idea that who hera is is tied to the way she exists because it seems to weirdly reinforce her own misconception#that there can never be another life for her.#and all of these things are specific to hera and to the themes of wolf 359 and NOT about AI characters in general#in other stories there are other considerations.#the best argument i can make against it is that she says getting visuals from one place is weird and she doesn't like it. but that's#a totally different situation where it's a further limitation of her ability without a trade off. it's a different consideration i think#when it allows her more freedom. to go somewhere and be completely alone by herself. to feel like she has more control and more privacy#to be able to hug her friends. or feel the rain. it would be one thing if she felt content existing 'differently'#but she... doesn't. canonically she doesn't. and i think that has to be taken into account.#i think you can tell a meaningful and positive story about disability without giving her physical form on earth too#but i think it has to be considered that those are limitations for her and that the way she exists feels isolating to her.#idk. a lot of the suggestions people come up with feel like they're coming from a place of compromise that i don't think is necessary#there are plenty of ways that having a body would be difficult for hera and i guess it's hopeful to me to think#maybe she'd still find it worth it.
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hm hm hm i feel like this will be really interesting to read with the knowledge of korra and how that effected her instead.... because korra (from my limited knowledge so i could be talking out my ass here) knew she was the avatar at an early age and DID get that community. she had katara and her parents, she had her mentors, she was isolated from the real world during so and perfected the elements other than air (which i kinda recall her struggling with and how its the opposite element of earth so im excited to see if those kinda play out :3) and she was more eager to be the avatar and the excitement and significance it brought (which was a bit clouded by her being sheltered but also would have been expected more before the war impacted things)
i also remember matty saying kyoshi struggled with earth bending (which im super excited to get to and see/see her journey and how it will differ) but!!! i just think its really fun how theyre kinda off the bat setting up this expectation and new grounding for readers who have a past grasp of the avatar universe. even as someone who isnt super familiar with the lore, i know enough to recognize that oh! thats something new!! so just kudos to the writer(s?) for just setting this up to be something very different and in a natural way :3
#again. talking out my ass here. if im an idiot no one say anything okay? okay <3#but i think its fun to already see some parallels or ways kyoshi and korra are different or similar#and how korra got the set-up stage that was considered ideal (i think?) for these two characters#like !!! the avatar is supposed to know theyre the avatar at a young age!#and aang learning when he was 12 instead?? i think?#or being told hey man you gotta fucking get ready/do your teen duties instead of preeteen ones cause theres a war....#but no sorry my head is scattered i cant keep a line of thought but the point was i know a lot of people bash korra because shes too#‘abrasive’ or comfortable with being the avatar when?? for previous experiences that eagerness was something more expected (i think)#like its so difficult to make a solid grounding argument when im not lore caught up but korras excitement to be the avatar and that she#knows its significant and important is something that would been encouraged before the war because of that hope and belief#that the avatar will keep that balance or save the world when others cant. aang disappearing and the genocide and war#obviously effected how people will see the avatar in universe and how her teachers are more hesitant and restrictive#none of this makes sense im just thinkin to myself while half distracted lol but ! go cringegirl bosses go !!!!#RoK (ransom style)
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finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it
#N posts stuff#like don't get it wrong it Is Not a series about being autistic it Is a series about raising an autistic kid#but also don't be put off by that because it's legitimately a series that I feel Loves autistic people with its whole being#it's kind of a teaching manga so it showcases a lot of different opinions/characters/conflicts/etc. but the Framing is very consistent#in that the manga is Extremely of the opinion that autistic people are People who deserve to be Valued and Accepted As They Are#the onus for change is never put on autistic individuals the framing is basically Universal in the 'the World needs to change#to be more accepting' -- it's a very Social Model depiction of autism that ALSO never veers too far into the#'autism isn't even Really a disability' fallacy; it's very much a 'A lot of autistic people will need constant support in a variety of ways#throughout their lives but that isn't the roadblock preventing them from having their own lives; ableism in society is the roadblock'#the first two chapters are the hardest to get through bc they take place before Sachiko has any real understanding of autism and#so she's isolated and stressed out and the ignorance makes it difficult for her to care for Hikaru properly (there's also a lot of#other characters Blaming her for what's going on which goes unchallenged at this point though that changes later); but after she#understands what autism is she's Firmly in Hikaru's corner for the rest of the series - you can skip right to ch 3 without a problem#if you're not interested in reading about that initial conflict#there's still a Lot of conflict ofc but by then the chapters have some of my favorite moments so i don't want to advocate skipping#them; like Hikaru's daycare teacher explaining how Hikaru's difficulty speaking is the same as other kids' troubles with#things like jump-roping/etc.; and then a mother who has An Issue with Hikaru's presence in her daughter's class realizing the#depth of the problematic opinion bc Her mother (who had a stroke) faces similar ableism from her peers#i'm cutting this post off b4 the tags get Too long but if you're curious but still hesitant man. send me an ask and i will Happily#write an insanely long essay about how much i love this series; i have all the books i'm not excited about the online availability#for Me i'm excited bc i've been wanting to rec this manga for like almost a full decade and i can finally give you a link instead of#saying 'well. you can find used copies sometimes' lol
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i think one of the things that upsets me the most about velma and shaggy's relationship in sdmi--and boy there is a lot--is that not only is her constantly ''correcting'' him for minor, harmless, and usually completely reasonable things with physical and emotional abuse, well. abusive by itself. but so many of the things he does that she treats him that way over are very autistic things, and what she subjects him to is textbook abuse aimed at autistics in particular. (including the part where she gets more and more pissed whenever attempts at said emotional abuse fly over his head, because he's too bad at picking up cues for them to land fully.)
[cws: anti-autistic ableism, ABA, self-harm, physical and emotional IPV, victim-blaming, and abuse apologism. it's a lot and it's really fucking bad lmao]
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like. there's a lot of examples there; shaggy's behavior coming across as autistic is worth a whole post of its own, and a lot of media depicts abuse targeted at autistic traits because ✨️hooray ableism.✨️but she straight up tries to Fix Him (read: force him to perform a Presentable Personality) by forcing him to wear clothes that are sensory hell, and trying to condition him to self-harm every time he does some small harmless, reflexive thing she thinks is Poor Socialization until he stops. and to catch himself doing it, and punish himself, without being prompted. i cannot fucking overstate how fucked up that is.
they even got down the fun little aspect of ABA where the methods of conditioning-through-pain are presented as toys and kiddish things: she gives him a rubber band to wear on his wrist, and tells him to snap it as hard as he can every time he says 'like.' 🙃🙃🙃🙃
like. this does not begin to scratch the surface of the abuse she puts him through in general. and again, characters being abused for autistic traits with the approval of the narrative is a common thing in media, which sucks. but holy fucking shit! they really took the 'violent ableism that is done to autistics irl' to the next fucking level here!
.......and it's portrayed as kind of cringey, immature teen drama on both sides. the self-harm, his dread over how much he knows it'll hurt, and the extreme pain it causes him to the point of screaming are all supposed to be funny. and her arc is all about learning to accept that she deserves better, because she was repressed and had low self-esteem and therefore putting him through fucking DIY ABA didn't make her happy.
🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃
anyway if you couldn't tell i can't fucking stand sdmi velma and i have a lot of words in me about it. when one of your main heroes would have made a way more compelling villain as they are, on a more mundane level compared to all the wild fantastical shit they go up against, holy shit go back to the drawing board you have fucked up. she could have been genuinely good representation of a marginalized person dealing with the trauma of her experiences in some shitty ways she has to grow past, and an interesting flawed character, without being absolutely despicable--hell, she'd have made a great foil to pericles if they'd handled him decently too. they have a lot of parallels, which only gain more depth when you add their respective parallels with cassidy into the mix. and it really fucking sucks that we got this instead.
#sdmi#scooby doo mystery incorporated#velma dinkley#shaggy rogers#SDMItag#cws in post#sdmi velma lies at the intersection of A Lot of Hard Feelings for me; in ways both inherent and personal#so she is viscerally upsetting to me in a lot of ways mostly re: framing; and that makes it difficult to analyze her in a sympathetic light#even though i recognize she is very much a depiction of a hurting; traumatized person lashing out in nasty and interesting ways#but the older i get and the more perspective i gain; and the more i unpack and understand about my own experiences#the more important it feels to me to talk about this stuff#i still want to try writing fic sometime about newniverse velma and how she ends up being a non-abusive; less shitty person#without just *being* a completely different person who's All Nice Sweet Sunshine with No Hard Feelings About What She's Been Through#and about the confusion and grief newniverse marcie goes through when one day her loving girlfriend is gone#and in her place is someone who is so much like her and has clearly been through a lot; but is Different in ways that hurt more and more#that marcie keeps trying to justify and make excuses for; and sits in the pot and slowly boils#until she finally has to face that this isn't the girl she fell in love with; that that girl will never come back; that this is velma now#i'm totally not working through anything here lmao#and a nasty; pretentious; controlling; insecure young adult who's up their own ass about Being Super Intellectual and Telling It Like Is#abusing a teenager to make them stop saying 'like' because it's Annoying and What Stupid People Say and Not Gramatically Correct(tm)(tm)(tm#definitely does not hit dead on some very specific 'hi that scarred me for life and i don't think it's particularly fucking funny' buttons!#anyway. protect shaggy and marcie and daphne while we're at it#SDMIcrit tag#the crit files
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Seasons Greasons
Left to right from top to bottom: Cherry (he/she), Watermelon (she/her), Shroom (he/him), and Winter Blade (he/him)
#my art#cherry#watermelon#shroom#winter blade#shortest set ive done in a while#cherry was the one i was most excited to do#i will say she ended up looking thinner than he actually is cause her? cloak?wrap?jacket?idk what to call it covered up most of his body#watermelon actually had a different personality and slightly different design before i drew her#she was originally planned to be more i guess ditsy and cute and was wearing a bikini top with her large coat and wouldve had like a visor#but right before i drew her i realised how boring i found that concept#so i changed her to be more sharp antagonistic and a bully#and i like her more shes my favourite in this set i think shes funny#type to smugly in a bully way go “aww poor thing~” and shes taking a photo of an abandoned pack of cigarettes or something#shroom is a mushroom witch which is a concept thats probably been done to death but i dont care i wanted to do one :3#i also wanted him to be tall and lanky and mostly wearing one color#his hair was quite difficult for me really not how i do hair usually but his hairs based on shaggy mane/inkcap mushroom so#winter blades design is inspired by what a middle schooler who got into anime and idolizes sasuke and shadow the hedgehog would think iscoo#as well as being inspired by santa and ded moroz and his mask is inspired by krampus#his real name in fact is sanya claus
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what's funnier for a meet-ugly fic. if it's a meet-ugly from the start ("we first met each other in a holding cell") or if it starts cute ("my grocery bag tore open on the street and they helped me pick everything up, also I got their number") and then gets ugly ("I didn't call them because I was busy and five days later we met again, in a holding cell")
#warning. long tags that got wildly off topic real fast. there's caleb meta in here#I think it's the difference between them being like 'huh. who's this guy' and the spiderman pointing meme#fic im writing doesn't have this thru a ship lens but it has a similar thing except like. it's a meet ugly where they don't exactly meet#but they see each other#smash cut four years later spiderman pointing meme in a holding cell YOU. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE#pov you're trying to convince everyone you're interacting with (while in the holding cell) (well. a dungeon) that you're an assassin from#another country but your mother in law is in the next cell over and she CLEARLY recognizes you and does NOT believe the show you're#putting on because context from the prev time you were around each other states you are not loyal to that country and that you are also a#lying liar who lies shamelessly at the first chance you get if you think it'll get you what you want. and it's making shit complicated#because she visibly wants to ask questions about why the hell you're here but you're under surveillance so she's just staring holes into#ur skull and she doesn't know she's your mother in law. this is the funniest thing I've ever written#it's a HARROWING experience for caleb in the fic. he is terrified out of his mind. but also. it's so so funny. my guy why did u do that#'caleb is a master manipulator' common misconception! he is a conman and scammer! he wishes he could operate on pure unfeeling logic and#intellect but sometimes and even oftentimes he is made of 80% panic minimum and then he commits to the bit#it's a very nuanced complicated situation etc etc but honestly a large part of it is also deirta being like what the fuck is this guy's#plan. why the fuck is he even here. and caleb's internal monologue is 'do NOT accidentally call her mother. do not do fucking not' which#is if anything making it more difficult to not call her mother. big fan of the way he refers to elders with titles I 100% think he would#call her that if he and essek were officially together. 'caleb has good social skills and awareness' common fucking misconception he is a#conman and scammer and knows vaguely what to say to get what he wants or more often how to direct attention away from what he's doing but#when he's just Being Caleb he gets to the fuckin point and that lady is his mother in law and he would refer to her as such even if#that's. a fascinating choice to make given everything about essek and also the lingering political situation between the empire and dynasty#I love caleb sooooo much I think he makes a good few snap decisions that are objectively DEEPLY unhinged and I think abt that a lot#calebs not a stable guy! I think it's rlly interesting how not stable he is even when he's doing well he has a few screws loose up there!#this is coming from someone who can relate to the irrational thinking that mental illness does I think he just sees point A to point B and#Does Shit. that's why he fireballs people when he knows it's going to trigger him. it's why he told essek to get it together instead of#killing him- he saw an ally. his morality and his decision making skills are removed from normal logic bc fuck normal logic he's caleb#widogast (sometimes- he goes by a fake name and considers himself entirely seperate from bren while he also holds himself accountable for#the crimes that bren was manipulated into committing) and its why he's Like That and I think he's neat.#I'm done now. what is this.
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