#<- not in an 'I plan to overwhelm myself' way just in an 'I know what I want to work on' way

[mayasaura]

The how Alecto got into Harrow to be Nona question is pretty easy to explain using the information Augustine gives us about revenants! Ghosts can follow thanergetic links that are created by contact with the deceased's thanergy. In the case of Harrow and Alecto, the link was created when Harrow touched Alecto's body in the Tomb. Alecto follows the link, finds Harrow's body without Harrow in it, takes the opportunity to hop inside, and bingo! You get a Nona.

And ghosts very much do just jump on bodies, especially in the River. Mercy explictly warns Harrow about the possibility of exactly that happening.

A Lyctor’s body, empty, with its battery intact but nobody in the driver’s seat? Do you know what could take up residence? Anything could get inside you—any horrible or evil or lonely thing, any miserable revenant, or worse—and you, you Ninth House child, are not remotely qualified to fight an outside predator. You are like a little baby. Listen to this: if we get to the other side and find you’ve gone and left your soul behind—I will separate your brain from your skull without waiting for you to catch up.

Anything could get inside her. Possession is a risk from any ghost, ghoulie, or devil that happens to find her.

Let's use Wake as an example. She definitely does not have any soul-sharing bond with Harrow, and has never become a lyctor. Abigail explains to Harrow that the Sleeper is laying seige to Harrow's subconscious with the intent to oust her, and concludes her explanation with:

Right now, in this moment, you are alive—let us ensure that if your body survives, you will remain at the helm.

The meaning is not ambiguous. If they fail, and Harrow's soul is killed here by the Sleeper, the Sleeper will possess Harrow's living body in the waking world. Abigail, the preeminent expert on ghosts and revenants, takes this as self-evident.

Possession is a risk when dealing with any revenant. No one needs to have consumed a part of another person's soul.

Once again I find myself agreeing with your conclusion that Gideon and Harrow's souls are acclimated to one another's bodies while disagreeing with your proofs.

Even if you're entirely right that Harrow planned for Gideon to surface, we have no idea if Harrow would know her body rejecting the possession was even a risk. We get that information from Pyrrha, who is in a unique position to know more about soul transfers and body sharing than just about anyone. I would hesitate to assume that Harrow, who describes her own knowledge of spirit magic as "execrable," has all the same knowledge as Pyrrha.

If I were to point to evidence of how becoming a lyctor effects ghostly possession, I'd look at Ianthe's steps five through seven.

Step five, incorporate it: find a way to make the soul part of yourself without being overwhelmed. Step six: consume the flesh. Not the whole thing, a drop of blood will do to ground you. Step seven is reconstruction—making spirit and flesh work together the way they used to, in the new body.

Step six especially. If the cavalier's flesh needs to be involved for grounding, it follows that step seven—making spirit and flesh work together the way they used to—anchors the soul of the cavalier to the lyctor's body as if to its own, and prevents the lyctor's body from rejecting it.

Harrow never completed step five, but she did perform the ritual completely enough that she was able to wield Gideon's sword against Cytherea. So odds are very good that her body wouldn't reject Gideon's soul.

Yeah, we are waaaay far away from the original point of Pyrrha being doomed by the narrative 😂 But I fucking love talking about necromantic theory, too. There are so many little details tossed out to us as they become relevant, and so far, they've all linked up to create an increasingly coherent picture.

Pyrrha feels so doomed by the narrative, I thought for a long time she was probably secretly dying according to Anastasia's tripod principal, the body only being able to go on for so long without G1deon's soul. But taking a second look .... nope.

The tripod principal says body plus thalergy plus soul equals life. The body in equilibrium produces thalergy, so it shouldn't matter that the soul, Pyrrha, is technically dead. It wouldn't work for most ghosts—a body will usually reject a transplanted soul and start shutting itself down, like Nona—but after ten thousand years a lyctor, the body has adjusted. Pyrrha's got squatter's rights on life.

She still feels pretty doomed to me. She's so fucking old and knows too much and has too many regrets. But if she is, she's gonna have to die of being killed.

[gliphyartfan]

Lately I've been feeling bad and feel like I'm going to hurt myself again. I want to know how you think yan Chain would react to a reader self-harming, I just need a little comfort :b

Hey there sweetpea , thank you for trusting me with your feelings. I’ll do my best to bring you a smile!

So, how I think the Chain would react?

Hmm

Well:

TIME wouldn’t let anything slip past his notice. The moment he saw evidence of self-harm, his almost deceptively calm tone would freeze them in place. ‘What have you done to yourself?’

Time would try to keep things calm around Reader.

He wouldn’t demand answers right away, they’d definitely be startled at being caught, he’d let them. come to him.

He’d tell them that when they were doing stoped then and there, like He says it softly, but his tone leaves no room for argument.

Whether it’s his hand resting gently on Reader’s shoulder or sitting quietly in the same room, he’d make sure they know they’re not alone.

he’d kneel in front of Reader, take their hands gently, and assure them that he’s here to stay, no matter what.

He’d quietly remind them that pain is temporary and that leaning on him, on them, is okay.

-

For WIND?

He’d immediately want to take charge, pulling Reader into a tight hug and whispering assurances and how Reader should have to feel so miserable as to want to do that.

He’d go out of his way to cheer them up, his antics sometimes over tha top but always sincere and concerned. Whether it’s telling stories, cracking jokes, or planning little adventures away from the group when they want space, he’d do whatever it takes to see Reader happy again. Cause beneath his playful actions, he’s deeply worried about them.

His yandere tendencies might slip through in how much he needs to see Reader happy. If they seem down, he won’t rest until he’s made them smile again, even if it means going overboard.

—

WARRIORS would mask his worry with charm, trying to keep things, ya know, happy and casual and upbeat to take Reader’s mind off their pain. But his concern would show in the way he watches them, his sharp eyes never missing a thing.

He’d focus on removing anything harmful from their reach while reassuring them that he wasn’t upset, just…worried (and hurt, and scared of the possibilities if he hadn’t caught them)

He’d start to insist on walking them everyone when the others arent around, pulling them close if he senses any danger, even if it’s just his overactive imagination.

He’d be a bit more touchy…holding their hand more, patting their shoulders and head, it’s all casual but it remains him they’re still ok.

——

FOUR would likely notice the signs before anyone else, his observant nature catching even the smallest details. He’d approach Reader cautiously, his voice soft as he asked if tehy were okay.

He’d of course, would be devastated but wouldn’t show it outwardly. Instead, he’d focus on what he could do to help, his hands steady as he tended to their wounds if they had any.

His colors would react differently. All equally worried, all equally wanting to comfort Reader. Maybe they accidentally overwhelm them and after that little mistake they take turns spending time with Reader.

Red wouod make flower chains with Reader.

Green would take them on walks.

Vio and surprisingly Blue, would have quiet moments. The two would just hang around while Reader did their own thing. (Kinda like how cats hang around each other without bothering one another? Like that!)

They’d definitely channel theur emotions into creating something for Reader, maybe a charm, a piece of jewelry? something tangible to remind Readee of their worth. His actions would speak louder than words.

Four when whole would keep close, offering quiet but unwavering support. If Reader needed a distraction, he’d work on a small project beside them, his presence a quiet reminder that they’renot alone.

——-

TWILIGHT would be devastated but wouldn’t show it outwardly. He’d, after making sure they won’t bolt in fear, immediately scoop Reader up in his arms, holding them tightly as if that alone could shield them from harm.

He’d be both heartbroken and angry, at himself for not protecting them better and at the world for making them feel this way.

Reader would feel like Twi’s entire world revolves around keeping them safe, even if it means following them everywhere (on two legs or four) or sleeping by their door at night. (Though if them want him in the room so they can snuggle, he definitely wouldn’t decline)

———

WILD wouldn’t say anything at first, his eyes taking in every detail. He’d carefully tend to their wounds with a mix of gentleness and…I’m gonna say delicate-ness? It’s just very careful. his hands steady even as his emotions were all over the place beneath the surface. his expression unreadable as he took the time to process what was happening. Then he’d gently pull Reader into a very gentle hug, his arms trembling slightly.

He’s become even more protective, Reader would catch him watching them constantly, his eyes always scanning for any signs of distress.

He’d channel his guilt into action, He’ll “accidentally” leave little gifts for them, freshly cooked meals, rare ingredients, trinkets he scavenged. and staying by Reader’s side as much as he could.

———-

LEGEND might not know the right words to say at first, he’s probably really caught off guard at what he catches sight of. But when Reader is looking at him in fear and trying to hide the evidence of what they’ve done, his actions would speak volumes. He’d take charge, patching up any wounds with gentle hands.

(He’d pretend his hands weren’t shaking, taht they weren’t betraying how deeply affected he truly was.)

He’d keep them company, even if he isn’t sitting right next to Reader, he’d be within their view. He’d take their hand and guide them away if he noticed them stressing out. He’d tell them stories of his adventures, small things that would bring a fragile smile on Reader’s face. And even if it isn’t bring a smile, it’d give them something to focus on. Something to ground them as them calm down.

And when Reader is calm and relaxed, he’d sit close and quietly admit how much he cares, how much Reader’s mere presence is worth to him and his life.

————

SKY would react with a mix of sadness and internal fury, fury at himself for not noticing sooner. He’d gently take their hands in his, brushing over any scars or fresh wounds, his voice trembling as he tells Reader it’s going to be alright.

He’s…not familiar with someone who has gone through this. If there was anyone like that in Skyloft, well…he never caught wind of it. So he’s very very terrified by this.

He’d be sleeping next to Reader that night…tho I doubt he’s sleep, probably watching how their chest rises and falls, scared that the rhythm would suddenly stop if he looked away.

Sky would be endlessly patient once he gathers himself, his warm, gentleness would be a constant source of comfort. He’d sit beside Reader, holding their hand if they let him, and quietly let them know it’s okay to feel whatever they are feeling.

He’d shower them with small, tender gestures, braiding their hair if it’s long, bringing them flowers, or playing his harp softly to them.

Sky might slip up by being overly protective, like insisting they stay close to him at all times. But he’d easily back off (for a little while at least) when Reader brings it up. Just wanting them comfortable and happy.

————-

HYRULE would be devastated.

He’d immediately try to take care of them, healing magic at the ready to heal any wounds. Gentle but practically pleading in a trembling voice if there are any other injuries he should know about.

He’d apologize frequently if Reader shows any signs of pain. He’d hold their hands afterwards, thumbs on their wrists, most likely focusing on the warmth and pulse beneath.

He tries not to hover, but it’s hard not to when his every instinct tells him to protect them.

If Reader ever tries brushes off his concerns to ask him not to worry, he’d..well not accept that.

“Don’t…don’t…lie to me. Please…even if you want me away from you for the moment, I’d rather you be honest…I just want to help.”

Hyrule would shower them with affection, his actions almost frantic as he tried to show them how much they mean to him. But he’s also holding back, scare he’ll push them away when they are already fragile in a way his magic can’t heal.

He wants them better, but he knows how terrible the fight against one’s mind can be. All he can do is be there by Reader’s side.

—————

Reader might not even notice at first, but slowly, anything that could be used to hurt themselves would disappear or get replaced with safer alternatives.

Legend quietly pockets sharp objects or anything suspicious without mentioning it. Four might ‘ upgrade’ certain tools so that they’re less dangerous (and not tell them why).

They are gonna be very focused on limiting access to anything harmless they’re trying not to make Reader feel like their autonomy’s being stripped.

They know nights are hard, so Reader would often find one or two of them staying up a bit later, coincidentally near wherever they’re sleeping.

Twilight might claim he’s just reading by the fire, while Warriors hovers at the edge of camp, but both keep an ear out for any sign of distress.

If Reader wakes up from a nightmare or dark thoughts, they’re immediately there, offering water, a blanket, or just a quiet ear.

They’ll all be aware that sometimes Reader’s thoughts get dark. So they plan little distractions, Wind invites you for a short stroll, Hyrule shares a story from his travels, or Wild asks for help with cooking or someone to tag along as he wanders around (if they’re up for it).

If Reader ever express guilt for worrying them, they instantly (almost too quickly) jump in with reassurance. Because guilt is a slippery slope that keeping spiraling down with great difficulty getting out of it.

They actively hold back on their more intense behaviors. Time wants to command Reader to stay put, but he softens his tone. Warriors wants to lecture them into next week, but he bites his tongue. Twilight’s instincts scream to keep them locked away safe, but he chooses to give them space.

Each hero attempts to give Reader breathing room, but they also catch themselves hovering, exchanging quick looks when Reader moves out of sight

They want Reader to feel cherished, protected, and above all, happy and alive. So they’ll do everything they can to accommodate and accomplish that.

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: You overhear Joel and Ellie arguing, her anger cutting deep as his plans come to light. Betrayal twists in your chest, and when you confront him, the argument lays bare fears and truths you weren’t ready to face. By the end, everything between you feels fractured, leaving you questioning where you stand—and where you’re going.

a/n: brb gonna go cry now

“I’m gonna go check on Ellie,” Joel murmurs an hour later, his voice low and warm as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His lips brush your temple in a soft, fleeting kiss, and the tenderness of it keeps your heart tethered to the moment.

Nestled under his arm, wrapped in the safety of his presence, you hum in contentment. The fabric of his oversized plaid shirt swallows you now, your bare legs tangled beneath the blanket as the weight of him grounds you.

Joel shifts, easing himself away from you with careful movements. Another kiss, gentle but lingering, is pressed to your forehead before he rises from the bed. The warmth of him fades too quickly, leaving the space beside you vast and cold. You hear the jingling of his belt, the fabric of another shirt and his jeans being slipped on somewhere in the haze of oblivious half-sleep.

You stir, your eyelids fluttering open to a room bathed in moonlight once Joel closes the door behind him. Shades of blue and white stretch across the bedspread, soft and ghostly in the dark. With a sigh, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air grazing your skin. The shirt hangs loose on you, its hem brushing the tops of your thighs, the buttons done just enough to preserve your bits should Ellie wander into the hallway.

Barefoot and quiet, you pad to the door. All you wanted was a glass of water, but something about the stillness of the house feels off. Out in the hallway, you notice the crack of the second bedroom door left ajar. Soft voices spill into the quiet, their tones restrained yet unmistakably tense, a soft warmth of a lamp casting light on the hardwood.

“If you’re gonna ditch me, ditch me.”

That was Ellie’s voice for sure now. Who was ditching her? You had no plans of leaving her, not when you were so close to finding the people she needed to get to. Your steps falter, your hand tightening around the railing at the top of the staircase.

And then Joel speaks, his voice stripped of the warmth you’d felt just minutes ago. It’s gruff and unreadable. “How much did you hear?”

Your breath catches, a hollow ache forming in your chest as you press yourself into the shadows of the hallway.

“‘I have to leave her,’” Ellie says, her voice cold, a tremor of hurt threaded through her words. “‘You have to take her.’”

Leave who? The words repeat in your mind, each one hitting harder than the last. Ellie was clearly talking about Joel—about something he’d said to Tommy. You’d figured he was off with his brother while Ellie was enjoying the movies with the others. You’d stayed back, overwhelmed by the noise and the press of strangers, retreating to the safety of solitude.

But now, doubt creeps in. What had Joel said to Tommy? What had Ellie overheard? And why hadn’t you been there to keep an eye on her—or on him?

Did he tell Tommy everything? The thought twists in your gut. Had he revealed why you were really on this trek across the country? How much Ellie meant to you—not just because of her immunity, but because somewhere along the way, she’d become part of something else to you?

You clench your fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why did I lock myself away? You hadn’t wanted the crowds, sure, but had it been worth missing this? Missing her slipping away to overhear something she never should have? Missing Joel saying something he shouldn’t have? And who the hell did she over hear saying they were ditching her?

Ellie’s voice rises, anger and defiance hardening her tone. “You know, we stood up for you today. Because, well, I thought—” She stops short, the sentence hanging unfinished in the air. Her silence is louder than her words, brimming with unspoken pain.

Your skin burns, the cool air doing little to calm the rising heat of confusion and anger. The weight of their words presses down on you, trembling uncertainty mixing with a fierce urge to demand answers. You cling to the shadows, listening, your heart hammering against your ribs as you fight the temptation to storm in and confront the both of them.

“I made this decision for your own good,” Joel says, his voice low but tinged with something you can’t quite place—hesitation, maybe even regret. Despite his usual steady tone, there’s a crack in his armor, a flicker of uncertainty. “You’re way better off with Tommy. He knows the area better than I do—”

“Do you give a shit about me or not?” Ellie’s voice cuts through his like a blade, sharp and loud. There’s a sudden clatter, the sound of something slamming down hard.

“Of course I do—” Joel starts, his words coming faster, his voice pitching higher.

“Then what’re you so afraid of?” Ellie fires back, her voice confrontational, rising with emotion. “That I’m gonna end up like Sam? I can’t get infected! I can take care of myself!”

She’s yelling now, her voice ringing through the hall outside the bedroom, clear and relentless. So this was about Tommy. Joel must’ve told him about Ellie, about her immunity, and the need to get her to the Fireflies. But the way Ellie spoke—like she’d overheard more than just plans—set your mind racing.

Was Joel passing her off? The thought makes your stomach churn. Was he back to thinking she’s just cargo? After everything you’d been through together, after how she’d fought for him, for all of you, could he really still see her that way?

Your chest tightens, frustration building alongside doubt. You strain to listen, wanting to understand, wanting to make sense of Joel’s motives. Had he really said something that would make Ellie feel like she didn’t matter to him? Or was he doing this for reasons he hadn’t told either of you? Reasons he thought were best for her—or maybe even for himself.

“How many close calls have we had?” Joel counters, his voice growing louder, the frustration cracking through.

“Well, we seem to be doin’ pretty alright so far.” Ellie doesn’t miss a beat, her retort swift and defiant.

“And now you’ll be doin’ even better with Tommy,” Joel growls, his tone like gravel grinding against stone.

There’s a scoff, and you hear the heavy tread of his boots. Without thinking, you press yourself against the wall, your breath catching as you try to stay hidden. His steps falter, though, stopping abruptly as Ellie’s voice lashes out again, low, but just as cutting:

“I’m not her, ya know.”

The silence that follows is deafening. It’s the kind of quiet that stretches time, thick and unbearable. Your chest tightens, your pulse pounding in your ears as you wait for Joel’s response.

“Maria told us about Sarah and–” 

“Don’t.” Joel’s voice is so low you nearly miss it, but the warning in it is razor-sharp. The silence deepens, the air even heavier. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks again. “You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice here.”

Ellie’s tone softens, but her words carry the weight of years she’s far too young to bear. “I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel,” she says, her voice quieter now, almost tender. “But I’ve lost people too.”

“You have no idea what loss is.” Joel’s voice trembles with the unshakeable heaviness of the words.

“Everyone I have cared for has either died or left me,” she says, her voice trembling but resolute. “Everyone– fucking—” There’s a sudden shuffle, like she’s moving toward him, maybe even shoving him by the sound of the footfalls, “—except for you!”

Her voice rises, a mix of anger and vulnerability, as the words tumble out. ���So don’t tell me I would be safer with someone else! Because the truth is, I would just be more scared.”

Joel’s response is soft, almost a whisper. “You’re right.” For a brief, fleeting moment, you feel the weight on your chest ease, hope blooming in the quiet. But then his next words hit like a punch, sharp and final. “You’re not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.”

It feels like the floor drops out from under you. Joel’s words land with a cruel finality that seems to hollow out the air in the room. Your stomach churns, your throat tightening as Ellie’s silence fills the void, a silence that screams of pain and betrayal.

It felt like Joel’s words plunged a stake into both your heart and Ellie’s, the sharpness of them reverberating through your hollow chest.

“Come dawn,” Joel says to her, his voice cold and distant, “we are goin’ our separate ways.”

And then his footfalls echo too loudly, too suddenly in the suffocating quiet, and you’re moving—pulling yourself away from the door, retreating back to where you came from. But before you can make it, Joel’s there, his silhouette cutting through the dim light as he steps onto the landing, slamming Ellie’s door shut behind him. The sound reverberates through the hall like a gunshot.

Your hand trembles as it closes over the knob of the bedroom door on the other side of the hall. You’re so close to shutting him out, but then he calls your name, his voice rough and sharp, cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

You freeze, but only for a moment. The tightness in your throat flares, burning like razors every time you swallow. You can’t bear to look at him, let alone face him. The weight of everything—his words, Ellie’s hurt, your own anger—presses down on you until you feel like you might snap.

With a burst of movement, you wrench the door open and slam it shut behind you, the sound a physical barrier between you and the man you can’t stomach to see right now.

But Joel doesn’t stop. His steps are heavy, purposeful, and close behind. Before you can even think, he’s pushing the door open, his presence filling the room with devastation.

He says your name again, his voice still rough and strained, but there’s a softness to it now that wasn’t there before. Even after everything he said to Ellie, that gentleness is back, and it makes your vision blur. Your throat burns, the tightness almost unbearable as every ounce of emotion you’ve been holding back surges to the surface.

You don’t turn around. Instead, your hands fumble to grab your clothes, pulling them on as quickly as you can. Joel stays by the door, watching you with an intensity that feels suffocating.

“Baby, please—” he begins.

“Don’t, Joel,” you snap, cutting him off. To your surprise, your voice is steady and cutting despite the white-hot anger boiling in your veins. “When were you going to tell me?” you snap, "Were you just going to let me figure it out after she was gone?”

Joel flinches, but he doesn’t speak. The silence only fuels your anger. You yank your shirt over your head, turning to face him as your words strike out like a blade.

“You planned to leave her all along, didn’t you? And you didn’t tell me.”

His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking as he stands there, rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s better this way,” he says finally, his voice low but firm. He doesn’t move when you turn towards him. His eyes are hardened, but there’s something beneath the surface—something seering and deep. Guilt.

“Better for who, Joel? For her? Or for you?” You step closer, jabbing a finger toward his chest. “You knew I’d disagree. You knew how I’d feel, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. You were gonna let her walk out of here with a stranger without saying a damn word.”

The words come out low and sharp, each one striking like a match against dry kindling. Your chest heaves, heat rising to your face—not the kind that makes you blush or stammer, but the kind that burns through you, hot and unrelenting.

“Tommy is more than capable, girl.” His voice is sharp, weighted, like he’s trying to put his foot down once and for all.

Girl. He’s called you that before, and just like when he uses the name ‘kid’ on you, it always brings you back to when you were still too young to understand what the world really was. Back when you needed someone else to fight your battles, to keep you from falling apart. It made you feel small, vulnerable.

Weak.

But that’s not who you are anymore. You’re not the scared kid hiding behind your father, praying the walls will hold. You’re not the wide-eyed teenager waiting for someone to show you how to shoot a gun or bow and arrow. You’ve clawed your way through hell just like Joel has, and you’re not about to let him make you feel small. Not after everything you’d been through.

And yet, as you stare at him now, the anger bubbling beneath your skin, another thought worms its way into your mind, unrelenting and sharp. How could I be so stupid? You’d let yourself believe everything was okay. You’d let yourself believe he was okay. The way he’d looked at you, the way he’d touched you—was it all to distract you? To keep you pliable and nice for him to talk into leaving Ellie behind?

You think about the way he’d undressed you, how careful he’d been. The way his lips traced every inch of you, the way he whispered your name like it meant something. You’d let him pull you into something that felt safe, something you’d convinced yourself was real. And all the while, this—this—was happening behind the scenes.

You feel the burn of tears prick at your eyes, anger and shame twisting together into something that makes it hard to breathe. How could I have been so ignorant? While you’d been letting him hold you, touch you, love you, he’d already decided to give up on Ellie. To give up on the three of you.

The realization cuts deeper than anything he’s said tonight, and you force yourself to push the thoughts down, to bury the ache and focus on the here and now. He wasn’t going to make you feel weak.

“How can you just give up like that?” you whisper, and the crack in your voice betrays the anger you’re trying so hard to cling to.

“Haven’t you noticed I’m failin’ her?” Joel’s voice rises, breaking with frustration and guilt. “I didn’t hear that man sneak up on you in Kansas City. I froze up when that dog could’ve smelled somethin’ on her today and torn her apart! I’mweak,”

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to respond. But the ache in your chest quickly turns to anger, burning hot and unrelenting.

“What if something happens,” you continue, your voice breaking, “and we’re not there? What if we lose her?”

His eyes flicker then, the wall cracking just enough for you to see it—the fear, the weight of everything he’s carrying. “And what if we don’t lose her?” His voice softens, just barely. “What if I lose you?”

The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, your breath hitching. You don’t know how to respond.

“Dammit, I’ve been through enough,” he mutters, stepping back as if putting distance between you could ease the pain in his chest. “I’ve lost too much. I can’t—I won’t—lose you too.”

Your heart stutters, a mix of confusion and anger swirling in your head. “This isn’t about me, Joel.”

“It is,” he snaps, his voice rising, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s about you, and me, and the life we could have here. We could finally have somethin’ good, kid.”

“Enough!” you shout, throwing your hands up before forcing yourself to steady. You’re not going to let him get under your skin—not like this. You lower your voice, but the words hit harder for it. “You’re being selfish.”

He flinches like you’ve struck him, his breath catching as the accusation hangs in the air.

After a long silence, his voice comes rough and broken, “Maybe I am,” he admits, his voice rough, broken. “Maybe for once in my life, I’m thinkin’ about what I want. You think I don’t hate myself for it? You think I don’t feel like a damn coward for wantin’ to stay here? With you?”

Your throat tightens, and you blink rapidly to push back the tears threatening to spill. “I’m not staying.” You turn, reaching for the door, your hand on the cool metal knob. But before you can pull it open, his hand falls over yours, gentle but firm.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, like the word itself might shatter, “Stay.”

“How can you ask that of me?” you whisper back, your voice trembling. You turn to face him, and suddenly, you’re too close. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the static that always seems to hum between you.

But you shove it down, hard. You can’t let this weaken your resolve. Not now.

“I’m taking her to the Fireflies in the morning, Joel,” you growl, your voice steady but full of venom. “If you want to be done with her so badly, then fine. You can be done with me too.” 

And with that, you throw open the door and walk out into the hallway, not giving him the chance to respond.

[elviraaxen]

who else has done the most random life choices to accommodate for their disabilities?

Because I wanna know if I'm the only one who became vegetarian simply because of the fact that having too many food choices makes my brain shut down.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

i love my friends so much. i feel like yesterday i had a lot of shit going on in my head and i woke up to my friend explaining things in a way that put my mind at ease. i dont feel as anxious anymore because i know i was overthinking. i think my dad said it best when he told me that he thought my wonderful brain of mine just wants to think problems are bigger than they actually are. he is right! im just inexperienced in life and half of the time im scared im doing something wrong but- HEY. i need to be more confident in making mistakes. making mistakes doesn't define me as a person!! i need to stop worrying about doing life right and just live for the sake of living and doing what makes me happy!!!!!!!

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

realized this morning while crying in bed that i've needed a break from my life for a long time now and i'm the only member of my family who can't have a proper one so that was a pretty existentially depressing moment

[spaceratprodigy]

sorry friends for the slow/lack of participation in tag stuff recently. I have such little time and energy and have not been able to work on personal art stuffs in weeks ;w;

[ceciliathecabinwitch]

Making some white turkey chili in a little bit and I’m honestly so excited

Bf and I are coming to a time of semi rest before he starts a new (full time!!) job at the start of the year but there’s still a lot of residual stress lingering around and I think we could def use some comfort food

And imho soups/stews/chilis are some of the easiest foods to transition to magic as well, so there’s definitely gonna be some of that in there too (especially because this is my first chance to bust out my giant stew pot since we moved in and there are few things that feel more like making potions to me)

[scarletcomet]

there's such a stigma around mental illness, especially around psych wards. fuck that. i've been using and will continue to use "i was just released from the psych ward" as an excuse when something feels too overwhelming, even the most simple tasks.

[ourceliumnetwork]

God the wheelchair really does just fucking fix going out for me huh?

[ilovemylawyer]

finally got around to watching tazza (2006) and it sparked an evilive related inquiry in my mind...

you know in ep3 how ohjae holds his mic in a lil funny upright style?

well peep this gamblingrelated gangster's eerily similar pose in tazza (2006)

so my question is: is ohjae's stance a reference to this? is it a coincidence? is it referencing something even older that i haven't gotten to yet? are these two going up against each other in a 1v1 rap battle?

[seventh-district]

my sincerest apologies to anyone who’s messages, comments, etc. that i haven’t replied to yet. i’m just so terribly stressed and busy irl that i’ve barely even been online at all for the past week and at this point i can’t make any promises about when i can update things or reply to things but just. know that i’m trying my absolute best and lowkey running myself into the ground over here and i know it’s probably not obvious and it sounds like an excuse cause i don’t seem like a busy person but there’s a lot of things that happen in my life that i can’t/don’t/shouldn’t/won’t talk about and i really am just. so overwhelmed from it all that i can’t have the consistent online presence i’d like to have. i’m sorry.

i will get back to any comments or messages on all my various platforms as soon as i can. i promise. i just don’t know when “soon” is at this point.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[mysticmutants]

not a lot, just forever

summary: weddings were never logans thing. the sappy vows, hundreds of people watching two people profess their love for each other— so why was being at jean and scott’s wedding with you affecting him so much?

pairing: logan howlett x reader

word count: 1k

warnings: romcom themes, weddings, possibly ooc!logan

authors note: sooo this is my first fic! I have some plans for a much longer, chaptered fic but figured I should ease myself into this! please go easy on me! any tips or suggestions are welcomed. thank you if you read my loves ౨ৎ

logan had been here so long he began to question where he went wrong in his life to put him here. what primordial being he had wronged to place him where he was— sitting next to you, adjusting uncomfortably in a cheap folding chair. not only were his senses being ambushed, overwhelmed—the guests cheap perfumes, the soft classical music playing in the background, mixing with the chatter of excited guests— but being here with you, was triggering something inside of him. he wasn’t someone that enjoyed weddings. anyone who looked at him even for a fraction of a second could deduce that about him. too gruff, hardened, to enjoy such a sappy environment.

it was anxiety inducing, to say the least. he shifts in his seat, trying not to fidget too much as his eyes flick from you—sitting next to him, raving about how beautiful the venue was, how excited you were for your teammates— to his surroundings.

“not a wedding person, logan?”

you speak softly, eyes raking over his appearance as you note the way his brows pinch together a little more than usual—a telltale sign of what was going on in his mind. he shakes his head in response. “they should’ve just eloped. less hassle.” he mutters gruffly, earning a laugh from you. he feels you lean in, elbowing him gently. “be nice. it’s their big day, you know? a celebration of their love.” you exclaim, a warm grin adorning your plush lips. the sight nearly makes his heart leap out of his chest—yearning for its rightful owner, you. he huffs in response, arms crossed over his broad chest. he wants to stop talking about this, to think about anything other than this god forsaken wedding. at least when he got through the ceremony, there would be alcohol at the reception. you lean in once more, and he can smell your perfume. his breath hitches and he eyes you, hoping you didn’t catch it. “so, I’ll take it you don’t see yourself settling down, cowboy?” you inquire.

not unless it’s with you.

he doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift to his lips, and back up to his eyes, but he does brush it off as him seeing things; chalking it up to his old mind deteriorating. he scoffs, brow raising as he scans the room once more in a feeble attempt to avoid eye contact with you. “settle down? no. people like us rarely get to settle down, darlin’. you know that. wouldn’t want anyone to get tangled in my mess.” he remarks—his way of saying ‘I’m terrified to get close to anyone, for fear of them winding up kidnapped by enemies or worse; waking up with my claws in their stomach—your expression darkens at his words, lips pursed and nostrils flared.

you nod, a sheepish grin curving at your lips. “right, yeah. of course.” you chuckle. “people like us don’t get the chance at a life like that very often. all the more reason to be happy for these two.” you nod, gesturing to scott standing at the altar. “you’ll get it, too.” he grumbles, pulling at the tie on his neck. “any man would be lucky to have you. just a matter of finding the right person.” your eyes linger on him at the mention, before tearing away to gaze up at the altar again.

“well,” you start, sighing, “I don’t think that my person thinks that I’m their person. so I’m sort of at a standstill.” you admit, breathlessly. now you’ve got his attention.

he leans forward, palms on the top of his thighs. “oh? and who might this person be, doll? have you tried telling him how you feel?” he questions, trying—and failing—to come off as subtle. you grin, a small chuckle falling from your lips. “no, but only because I know better. why try when you know the answer, right? I mean.. I’ve tried, I suppose. dropped hints. but I’m beginning to question if he doesn’t realize, or if he doesn’t want to realize, you know?” you turn to him, confused on why he was suddenly so attentive; his anxiety from moments before gone. his brow raises, waiting for you to elaborate. his heart skips a beat as you lean in even closer, breath fanning across his face.

“well, my right person… he doesn’t let people in. not fully. he acts like it’s because he doesn’t care but… i think he’s scared. he wants to be loved so badly, and i can see it. he doesn’t want someone to get hurt because of him. not again.” you speak cautiously, looking at him. really looking at him.

his breath hitches in his throat as he meets your eyes. were you… talking about him? no way. he opens his mouth to speak, to counter, to confess, but he’s cut off by the wedding march beginning to play.

and he’s right back to cursing whatever god he could think of. he can’t help but grin, though, as he stands with all the other guests. his heart beats rapidly in his chest, filling it with warmth.

he turns to watch jean walk down the aisle, anticipating the end of the ceremony—wishing his mutation was to speed up time rather than his adamantium claws. for once, though, it wasn’t because he couldn’t wait to get this over with. to get to the fun part already—the part where he could drink. it was because he couldn’t wait to finally tell you how he felt. to face his fears.

maybe, for once, he didn’t mind weddings so much.

he just hoped the next one would be yours.

[nathaslosthershit]

A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

[mirohlayo]

GIRLY GIRL : A LANDO'S

PERFECT MORNING

( In which your boyfriend needs to follow your his 3 step morning routine, which is undoubtedly your favorite time of the day. )

warning : none just pure fluff, lando being the SWEETEST boyfriend ever

note : I didn't plan on writing this much but it doesn't matter cuz I'm glad I did because it makes it even cuter

word count : 2.5k

9:30 - skincare time

“Just 5 more minutes, please, baby”. Lando snuggles up closer to you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. If there is one thing that Lando hates above all else, it is having to get out of bed and at the same time abandon you when he only wants one very specific thing, and that is to cuddle you all the day, and sprinkle your face with thousands of kisses.

And he hated leaving bed even more during lazy mornings.

"Lan, I love lazy mornings too but I need to get up and prepare myself for the day". You move slightly so that you can have a view on him. “Why should you get ready when we’re going to spend the day at the apartment?” His hoarse morning voice is only a reflection of the long but pleasant sleep he spent last night.

“Because I want to feel clean, fresh and pretty.” You place a light kiss on his hair. “But you look stunning all the time, how could you be even prettier?” A shy smile takes its place on your morning face, while a slight chuckle emanates from your body.

"Come on Lan, please. It's time for your favorite part of the day." At this sentence, you feel your boyfriend's body slumped on top of you suddenly straighten up, his face just inches from yours. A most adorable smile appears on his lips as he places a light kiss on the tip of your nose.

"That's right. Let's get you prepared, pretty girl." A gaping smile creeps onto your face as you feel the thick white blanket of your bed slide, revealing your bare legs to the cool morning air. Lando helps you out of bed, gently and lightly taking your hand, as you disappear into the bathroom.

“Skincare time, love”. You place your few skincare products on the edge of the sink, in a certain order so that your boyfriend doesn't make a mistake in the steps of your skincare. Lando pats the small padded stool stored next to the sink, so that you can sit on it comfortably.

Sitting down, you carelessly tie your hair into a ponytail, ready to receive your daily morning skincare. “Should I start with this?” Lando’s soft voice tickles your ears as he stands close in front of you. His blue-green eyes peer curiously at the product in his hands.

The way he cares about the product is just adorable, and you can't help but crack a smile. “Yes, I always start with the toner.” With a nod, your boyfriend unscrews the cap of the product and generously pours the liquid into the palm of his hand.

"Are you ready ?". Lando asks you carefully, to make sure you're comfortable enough. This thought, the fact that he is always so caring and attentive to making you comfortable, for fear of doing something wrong or hurting you, warms your heart because there is nothing more adorable than this subtle but yet important gesture.

You nod your head quickly, and while Lando lets a most precious smile appear on his face, he very delicately applies the product to your cheeks, your forehead, your chin. He is very careful, and caresses your face with a frail delicacy, which leaves you overwhelmed by a wave of comforting warmth.

His touch is soft, delicate, as if he was afraid to touch you, or at least as if he was afraid of the idea of damaging you. “Your skin is really beautiful.” He didn't hesitate to say these few words to you, without really thinking about what was coming out of his mouth. You crack a big smile as you giggle adorably.

This sweet laugh, this sweet sound that reaches Lando's ears makes him miss a few heartbeats. How can a sound be so sweet? It's probably the one and only thing he could die for.

“Oh, I know this product. It’s your serum, right?” The enthusiastic intonation of his voice and the glint of excitement in his eyes gives you the effect of a wave of admiration. Your gaze becomes softer, as you stare at him intensely, with hearts in your eyes. “That’s it, baby.” The smile of victory and pride he displays when he has just realized that he is gradually learning to know your skincare by heart consumes you so pleasantly.

Because you know how much your boyfriend literally loves doing your skincare for you. He likes taking care of you, being able to touch and caress your skin delicately. See your being relax under his delicate touch, while he takes the time to perfectly apply the products to your skin. It's something that will never leave him indifferent, always obsessed with the way his heart savors every moment spent with you.

9:50 - hairstyle time

Your skin has finally finished absorbing all your skincare products, and after storing the products in the small cabinet hanging on the wall, you come and grab your hairbrush. “Hey, it’s my job to get you ready, I want to do your hair too, princess.” Lando takes the comb from your hands as he places his hands on your shoulders so you can look at yourself in the mirror in front of you.

The desire is too much, so he comes without further delay to place a kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the delicious smell of your shampoo from the day before. Then, with fluid and delicate movements, he begins to gently brush your hair. Combing slowly so as not to hurt yourself and to avoid big knots in your hair.

You close your eyes, lightly enjoying the moment, and allow yourself to be sensitive to your boyfriend's touch. It always manages to give you a relaxing, even comforting feeling. As if ultimately, he was the solution to your worries, the ultimate solution to your happiness.

“What hairstyle do you want today, gorgeous?” He asks you this simple question, still with this look of concentration planted on his face. You thought vaguely, taking a quick look at the hairstyles you could wear. “Just a simple braid, please.” Lando nods slowly, muttering a low "mm'kay", indicating the fact that he is focused.

He places the brush back on the sink, as he separates your hair into three equal parts. Then, he begins to braid the strands together, crossing them one after the other to obtain a pretty long braid. He braids your hair with absolute delicacy, and it's as if you feel transported to paradise. Everything is perfect.

“I love styling your hair y’know. It’s relaxing. Especially when I see that it also relaxes you a lot.” He offers you a most daring and mocking smirk, while you feel yourself blushing profusely. Your eyes meet in the mirror and you have to look away, too embarrassed.

“You’re cute, baby.” You don't react to his comment, since your body is already taking care of it by coloring your cheeks even more a pretty pink. And Lando loves that he has such an effect on you. Since usually you're the one who makes him completely feral.

Your soft hair that slipped under his fingers is now braided, and Lando comes to tie it using the elastic around his wrist. The rubber band he never takes off, in case you need it when you complain that you lost them all. It has become a real bracelet for him now.

“I’m proud of myself.” Lando smiles to himself as he gazes at your hairstyle, savoring the beauty of your hair. You stand up and turn around to place a quick kiss on his lips. "You did a great job. It's pretty". He grins at you, as his arms wrap around your waist, squeezing it softly.

“Not as pretty as you.” He gives you that cute smile back as you roll your eyes in amusement. “You have improved your flirting skills since we met.” You points out. His eyes fall to your lips, eagerly waiting to kiss them. “I knew I had to improve to be able to pull a girl as beautiful and amazing as you.”

You let out a laugh as he smiles goofily at your behavior, taking the time to readjust your braid as your body presses against his chest. It's in these moments, these innocent moments, that Lando finds comfort, that he feels his heart beating a little harder for you.

10:10 - outfit time

You stop in front of the large dressing room that you share with Lando. His clothes are stacked in a haphazard and very disorganized way, it's simply untidy. You take a look at your clothes, waiting for Lando to choose your outfit of the day.

You feel his hands place on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck. “What should I wear today, baby?” Your question makes him move again, and taking a few steps forward, he begins to examine the different pieces of clothing you own.

"Something sexy. Hot and sexy. You'll look so good in that". He tries to show you a very tight top but you stop him by hitting his arm teasingly. “No, today I want to feel comfortable.” You protest, placing your hands on your hips. “You’ll feel comfortable when I take it off you.” He protests, offering you a smirk.

You poke his ribs and he contains a little scream. He ends up giggling, amused by the situation and the fact that he embarrassed you so easily. You sigh, looking at the mountain of clothes overflowing from the closet. “What color should I wear?”

"Pink. I think pink suits you really well." He takes out a pink hoodie from the closet, from Daniel Ricciardo's "enchanté" merch collection. His eyebrows furrow as he holds the item of clothing with his index finger and thumb, displaying a look of disgust.

"Eww. I didn't know you had a Daniel brand hoodie. It's horrible." You scoff dramatically as you snatch the sweater from his hands. "Excuse me ? I love it, it's so comfy." You hold it against you, glaring at your boyfriend. He raises his eyebrows, surprised.

"Ain't no way you'll wear that... awful thing." He approaches you, grabbing the hoodie from your hands and throwing it behind him. "You're all mine, you can only wear my hoodies or those of my brand. No Daniel or other drivers." His arms come to wrap around you as he presses you against him. He leaves soft kisses on your neck.

“Huh, much jealous.” You kiss his cheek as he snuggles closer to you. "Of course I'm jealous. You're my girl, not his." His voice is muffled, but quite noticeable. You giggle weakly as you play with his curls. "I only have eyes for you, baby. Don't need to worry."

He pulls back to smile at you like a child, a silly smile but so adorable. “Well, that still didn’t help me find my outfit.” You point at the wardrobe as your boyfriend finally finds some clothes. He ends up choosing a pink lounge set, comfortable but thick enough to keep you warm. Everything you need.

You don't wait any longer before locking yourself in the bathroom to change, and returning to the room where Lando is waiting for you, dressed in your outfit chosen by him. As you enter the room, his eyes fall directly on you. And you really think you're going to melt under his gaze.

His eyes are filled with hearts as he doesn't hesitate to stare at you intensely, a gaze burning with love and affection. “Stop staring at me please.” Your voice is a low whisper as you feel more shy. You never stopped feeling special every time Lando complimented or admired you, despite the fact that he did that several times a day.

It's stupid, but he always looks at you with such passion and ardor that it was impossible not to feel that same feeling of happiness. That feeling that makes you feel so unique and precious in his eyes. Because after all it is.

"Lan, you're staring at a bit too much." You snap your fingers in front of him to snap him out of his thoughts. He comes back to his senses and stares at you as intensely as ever. "Sorry, but how could I not stare at the most beautiful woman in the world? It's unfair how gorgeous you are."

Your brain doesn't think any further before coming to kiss him passionately. His arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. As you pull back, he pecks your lips a second time. And then he admires you.

For a moment, there is silence. A deafening and noisy silence, but because it emanates words of love. Unspoken words of affection, but yet you already know them without even having to say them to yourself. Because after all, no one knows how to describe the love you have for each other better than yourself.

“Mornings like this are my favorite. I do your skincare, your hair, and choose your clothes.” You can't contain a laugh, as Lando looks at you perplexed. “You’re such a girly girl, baby.” His eyebrows furrow slightly as he tilts his head to the side.

You continue to laugh while Lando still looks at you confused. “What does girly girl mean?” He asks curious. "Basically when you're a woman, and you like to take care of yourself. I don't know how to explain it, you have to be a woman to be able to feel it." You explain to him kindly.

“Does this mean that women have superpowers?” He asks innocently, and that cute face he shows forces you to quickly kiss him on the lips. "No, not really Lando. But it's just that you give girly girl vibes, because you like to take care of me." You keep giggling.

“Is it really that bad if I love taking care of my beautiful girlfriend?” He grins at you, almost kissing you by the way. You smile with all your teeth, shaking your head. "Not at all. It's even my favorite thing in the world." He smiles even wider at your words, feeling overwhelmed by love. “Good, because I wasn’t planning on stopping.” His lips press against yours, in an eternal passionate kiss.

After all, he was right. Is it so bad to take care of the person you love most in the world? Because for Lando, it's certain, there is nothing in the world that can match the mornings where he is lucky enough to be able to be next to his favorite person, the one for whom his heart continues to beat very hard every minute, each day that passes.

It is in the tenderness of his caresses on your skin, in the gentle gestures of his hands in your hair, in the innocence of his taste for your outfits, that Lando feels free, loved and happy. That he feels at home, that he really feels in his place, alongside his girlfriend, alongside the one he will love for the rest of his life, forever, because he has known it since day that he laid eyes on you: his heart is in your hands, and it will never stop beating for you. For the girl he always dreamed of having.

For the girl he hopes will wake up next to her, every morning, for the rest of his life.