#I was extremely alone in a lot of my experiences

[codenameregnar]

Ok so, I've been in the process of writing a post beta canon fic, and a lot of what you've said strikes me as extremely relevant to the things I've been ruminating on in that process. And so bear with me but I'm gonna go through these points one by one, because while I think they all tie into the same central thesis, they are also compelling as standalone points and the worms demand I expound upon them in detail.

"I simply don’t see a world in which that kind of relationship dynamic/approach [of them abandoning their respective worldviews and convictions] would fit with their characterizations." So one of my favorite scenes in A Stitch In Time is the bit where they are having lunch with Odo, and Julian is essentially pushing Garak to (if he would come to be a leader of Cardassia postwar, which we know is exactly what happens) adopt a more Federation adjacent mindset based in democracy and freedom. And Garak gets upset. Irrationally so. And it's because he's on this precipice of great change and understanding within himself, at conflict with his more Hebitian values and worldview vs what he's been taught and brought up to believe in. He is actually very inclined to take a Federation approach for how his world (both his internal world and Cardassia as a planet and people) should be rebuilt, though still distinctly and independently Cardassian—or rather Hebitian, in it's construction and core principals. And coming to terms with the dismantling of his previous principals, ones that have always been necessary for Garak's survival, if ill-fitting, is a terrifying prospect. And so I love that scene, because that is the closest we get to seeing Garak feeling attacked and genuinely shaken up at Julian's convictions and how much they resonate with him. And so in rebuilding Cardassia as a more democratic society (even without losing some of their core and more alien beliefs) that is a middle ground I think Julian could understand and come to even appreciate, especially given his experiences with the Federation's dark underbelly. And let's not forget the central theme of the beta canon, which is Garak remaking himself and by proxy Cardassia in Julian's image specifically. Him finding in himself what Julian saw in him all along and rebuilding his world with who he truly is—with what Cardassia truly is, at the root. And so while I don't think they would be willing to abandon what they believe in for each other, they very much would be willing to shift their worldview to meet in the middle. And furthermore, I think Garak is the one doing the majority of the shifting in that theoretical. Especially given that it's less of a baseless shifting for Julian's sake alone and more of a growing into himself. Something he could only ever have done with Julian's forgiveness, patience, and unwavering sense of compassion and justice to help reveal himself to him. And I think my entire point here is the underlying reason why so much fic and fannon characterizes Garak as the one willing to bend over backward for Julian. He is more aligned to Julian's way of thought (deep down and under years of trauma and brainwashing) than he's wiling to admit in canon.

"there are never any situations involving these characters in which their fundamental values or institutional loyalties are challenged as a result of their relationship." I agree, and the lack thereof is forever a great disappointment, but as illustrated in all of Robinson's writing on Garak, their relationship causes an internal shift in Garak and causes him to see himself in Julian in ways that are uncomfortable and jarring (the same goes for Julian in the opposite direction, I believe) and causes him to question everything he grew up believing, and through that questioning he finds his true values, as he sees them, as indictive to his personhood, without the coloring of Tain's or The Union's influence. And so while there are never any situations which challenge their values, the relationship as a whole does. And again, I do think that is true for Julian, but eons more so for Garak. He does have to chose between Cardassia and Julian, but in a very abstract way. He has to chose between the old Cardassia (that traumatized him and eroded his personhood) and the core of himself that Julian not only saw so clearly but embodied in it's most flattering composition. There is a bit in Enigma Tales in which he ruminates on the way secrets destroy a person, specifically in reference to Julian. And I think that says, without outright saying it of course—in very Garak fashion, that he saw the best of himself in Julian, and he consciously chose that best moving forward, with Julian as a sort of guide.

"their friendship in the early seasons is usually framed as a respite from their serious responsibilities or moral dilemmas." Which is exactly the space Garak needs in order to work through the things I've outlined above. For the first time since his very early childhood he can be unguarded and find comfort—as opposed to paranoia, however mild—in companionship and learn to grow into himself in ways that don't seem very consequential at first (casually saying he "joined the wrong intelligence agency" in OMB comes to mind. It seems like a funny throw away line but given his character and history it is a HUGE admittance of personhood if you read between the lines) but that stack upon themselves to elucidate to him his own values and the harm done to him that snuffed them out over his lifetime.

"[Julian's] righteous anger at seeing those morals trodden upon is one of his most defining character traits" Which is exactly the type of push, in tandem with the aforementioned mirror that Julian is for Garak, that I think he needs in order to come to these realizations about himself. Garak has always been angry. But he had that righteous anger beat out of him from such an early age, and by the time he could recognize it (the Edosian Orchid assassination saga) he had no choice but to suppress it. To see it so unabashedly on display in Julian is not only invigorating to him, but vindicating too. One of my all time favorite aspects of their relationship and what Julian's friendship does for Garak is that he sees, for the first time, his sentiments ('the greatest weakness') as a weapon to be honed and thus wielded as opposed to a liability, which is what his own have always been for him, precisely because he was never allowed to explore that part of himself and learn how to use them to his advantage as Julian does.

"if we’re imagining them in a long term committed relationship? It wouldn’t be sustainable, and it doesn’t feel in keeping with Bashir’s character that’d he have endless reservoirs of patience and understanding specifically for Garak." But he would be vastly more patient and understanding, simply for the fact that he sees Garak, down to the bones, and he understands (especially after that novel length letter) the depths of Garak's internal conflicts. And (if he would come to Cardassia after reading such a letter) he would see that he is trying. His reservoir of patience wouldn't be endless of course, but it would be extended simply for the fact that he and Garak have lead such similar and parallel lives. The main reason they like each other so much is because they see themselves in each other, even if they're not exactly sure why at first. It's an immediate if inexplicable and intrinsic understanding that they have upon meeting that they are looking at another person who maybe doesn't fully understand them, but has the life experiences that equip them with the capability to.

"one very fundamental thing they have in common is how passionately devoted they are to their respective causes [...] I don’t see any version of Garak in which Cardassia is not his first love" Cardassia is absolutely his first love, and even after this internal shift that takes place in him he would never compromise or sacrifice her for Julian or anyone else. However, because of what Julian has been able to give to him—this painful rebirth of the self—he is the perfect person to understand what is necessary to lead Cardassia into a new and generative age. And so in helping Garak, Julian has been able to serve Cardassia as well, and in the capacity that it needs most desperately postwar. He shows Garak the need for one person to fall out of line in order to reinstill the fundamental core beliefs of the First Hebitians as applied to Cardassia's modern age, thus saving—if forever changing—the Union which his love for is defining. And so, in that framework, they can come together for a common goal: healing Cardassia. Garak wouldn't be equipped to do so without Julian's support and guidance, continually reminding him of who he really is and who he needs to honor moving forward. And so to me that is the most believable basis of them getting together postwar. They are both following their convictions and respective life paths, but in ways that they would never be able to without each other.

"For Bashir, there’s the problem of not only reconciling himself with what Garak has done, but also of choosing to be with someone whose impulses and entire cultural belief system places duty and institutional loyalty above personal feelings. And for Garak, there’s the fact that the most devoted and emotionally intense relationship he’s had in his life thus far has been with Tain, who embodied Cardassia for him" And I think here is where the most potential for conflict lies. Garak, and of course Cardassia by proxy, is still in that process of a painful rebirth. He is learning that having the permission to explore one's personal feelings and even act on them can be more generative to the individual and thus to the state than not. But he still has a lifetime of deeply ingrained understandings that tell him otherwise. And so, as his relationship with Tain mirrored his relationship to himself and his devotion to Cardassia, so does his relationship with Julian, but in a fresh and utterly inverse way. This is all still very new and at times very scary for him, and so I think he would need Julian's continued guidance and support so as not to fall back into old and safe patterns of thought and behavior. So to me, the central conflict between them post beta canon would have more to do with the two of them questioning if Garak really is capable of change, if he even wants to change, and what that change would actually look like. I think that, by the time Julian would go running off to Cardassia, he would have a fundamental understanding that Garak is trying, and in order to have even the inclination to go he would have had to already reconciled who Garak has been with who he is becoming/always had inside of him. The discord arises out of questions as to whether or not that internal shift in Garak is sustainable and if Garak can successfully break a lifetime of conditioning.

I feel like this has gotten a bit rambley on my end, so I hope I've been making sense. And I know this has all been very Garak POV skewed and that's my own brainrot and identity talking, and as with all headcanons and interpretations of media feel free to completely disregard everything above if that doesn't jive with what you see in their dynamic, but tldr: to me Garashir is about Garak learning how to find the things that were stolen/beaten out of him and how to honor his own personhood through the at times uncomfortable but always understanding mirror that is Julian Bashir. And through that lens I think them coming together post beta canon is a lot more understandable and fitting for Garak's character (as it's him doing more of the growing and concession making, imo) than is initially illustrated in canon. This coming together wouldn't be Garak abandoning his ideals for Julian's sake, but rather growing into his own long held if deeply repressed convictions that he is only able to see and embrace because of Julian and his own firm belief structure.

I’m trying to untangle The Problem of Garashir (not the least because, well, I’m writing the pairing) -

and I think honestly one of the biggest… roadblocks? bits of untapped potential in the pairing? is that we never really see their relationship put a strain on their ideological convictions.

Which is to say, “the societal institutions we’re subject to are corrupt, but our love is pure, so we’re going to abandon those institutions for each other” is, whether implicitly or explicitly, a common framing in fanfic featuring them (such as I’ve seen) - and to be fair, it’s a common romance trope in general. But I can’t say it works for me for these characters. And part of that is that imo the show doesn’t sufficiently set that up with its development of the relationship between these two characters, but another part of that is that I simply don’t see a world in which that kind of relationship dynamic/approach would fit with their characterizations.

To address the first point - there are never any situations involving these characters in which their fundamental values or institutional loyalties are challenged as a result of their relationship. At no point does Garak, for example, have to choose between Cardassia and his affection for Bashir. (I’ve seen people read The Wire that way, but I don’t think the reading works - The Wire is a fantastic showcase for Garak’s worldview and value system and the cracks and contradictions therein, but even though Bashir’s unwavering commitment to helping him despite what he’s done is certainly unprecedented and moving to him, his underlying value system hasn’t changed by the end of that episode.) And while Bashir’s faith in Starfleet and the Federation does get rocked quite a bit over the course of the show, it’s never because of his friendship with Garak.

Instead, I’d say that with some exceptions (like The Wire), their friendship in the early seasons is usually framed as a respite from their serious responsibilities or moral dilemmas. This especially true of Garak, who is likely not used to someone simply enjoying his company with no ulterior motives whatsoever, but the narrative maneuvering of the show also does a lot to shield Bashir from the reality of who Garak is. Yes, he gets a taste of that in The Wire, when Garak goes out of his way to impress upon him what the reality of his life as a spy truly was. But that’s still only verbal testimony, and only confined to what Garak has done in the past. Bashir is largely absent from all the shit that Garak pulls during the show!

And I’m not complaining that, say, the events of The Die Is Cast take place between Garak and Odo, because it makes thematic sense for it to be Odo for that arc. (And I love that friendship.) But Garak and Bashir do not get a plot like that, or like In the Pale Moonlight, where Bashir is directly exposed to or complicit in Garak’s immoral behaviour. The closest we get to an actual serious ethical clash between them is in Our Man Bashir, which is a goofy comedy episode. (And it’s worth noting that Bashir calls Garak’s bluff and shoots him in that confrontation! Yeah, he likely missed on purpose, given what we later learn about his magic hand-eye coordination, but he’s still unwilling to compromise on his heroism for Garak’s sake. It’s actually a pretty Cardassian gesture, which is probably part of why Garak loves it so much, but it does say a lot about where their priorities are re: their commitment to their values vs. each other.)

And I think the lack of more serious, plot-relevant ethical conflict between Garak and Bashir is a real loss for the show, because one thing I find really interesting about their relationship is that - in contrast to the examples of Odo and Sisko up there - Bashir is the person in the cast most able to hold Garak accountable. He’s repeatedly established as one of the most firmly moral members of the cast, and his righteous anger at seeing those morals trodden upon is one of his most defining character traits in the later seasons. His unconditional forgiveness of Garak in The Wire is lovely, and it is an important moment in the development of both their relationship and Bashir’s character. But in the long term, once we get into actual serious, consequential war and espionage plots? And if we’re imagining them in a long term committed relationship? It wouldn’t be sustainable, and it doesn’t feel in keeping with Bashir’s character that’d he have endless reservoirs of patience and understanding specifically for Garak. And it’s precisely because Bashir is uniquely able to grant Garak forgiveness that he’d also potentially be uniquely able to chastise him.

(This is why, by the way, my headcanon as to the in-universe reason why they don’t seem as close in the later seasons, paternity deathbed reveals and occasional flirty bantering notwithstanding, is that Bashir was seriously fucking pissed at the stunt Garak pulled in Broken Link, both in terms of the personal betrayal and the destructiveness towards sentient life, and that it created a significant rift between them.)

All of that is to say - my biggest regret with the show’s sidelining of their dynamic isn’t the fact that their relationship never becomes romantic (not a chance of that in the 90s, and also these writers were pretty terrible at writing romance) but that they never get to have an argument. An actual serious, non-flirtatious, two-sided, genuinely-angry-at-each-other-argument. I want to see conflict! (I honestly think that their exchange in What You Leave Behind comes the closest to the kind of conflict I’d like to pick up on in post-canon fic - where they are conciliatory in the moment but still have this really wrenching chasm between them, and unresolved frustration as a result of that chasm.)

So as an extension of these thoughts, I actually really like that we’re not given the basis for a traditional “us against the world” style romance plot. I like that these characters are clearly deeply fond of each other and significant to each others’ development, but have other important connections (Garak especially, since despite being only a recurring character introduced through Bashir, he integrates into the broader cast) and other priorities besides each other.

Furthermore, despite the significant differences in their value systems, one very fundamental thing they have in common is how passionately devoted they are to their respective causes. For Garak, it’s Cardassia. And while his idea of what it means to serve Cardassia, and what Cardassia needs, undergoes a lot of change over the course of the show, I don’t see any version of Garak in which Cardassia is not his first love. For Bashir, it’s altruism and helping people, as well as his intellectual curiosity - aims which are reflected in Starfleet and the Federation for him but ultimately higher ideals.

And I don’t think either Garak or Bashir would admire the other nearly as much if they were willing to let go of everything they hold dear for the sake of romance. They’re both far too committed to being a part of the world. Garak may have some fun with trying to shake Bashir of his optimism, but ultimately Bashir’s goodness, his fierce conviction that no one deserves to suffer, are among the most compelling aspects of his personality. And if Bashir is ever going to actually enter a serious relationship with Garak, he’s got to move beyond flirty intrigue and literary banter and see Garak as someone who’s proactively committed to goals that Bashir can respect. If they’re coming together as a couple, it’s because their aims and beliefs have come into alignment in some way.

And to be fair, a lot of post-canon Cardassia stuff is doing the latter. But I also want more… conflict within that framework, I guess? I don’t want a romantic relationship and the act of getting together to be the endpoint of whatever reconciliation of values they need to work through. And that’s part of what I’m trying to untangle in planning this fic of mine - especially regarding how fraught romantic commitment feels for them. For Bashir, there’s the problem of not only reconciling himself with what Garak has done, but also of choosing to be with someone whose impulses and entire cultural belief system places duty and institutional loyalty above personal feelings. And for Garak, there’s the fact that the most devoted and emotionally intense relationship he’s had in his life thus far has been with Tain, who embodied Cardassia for him - and as a result, I doubt he quite knows what to do with the possibility of a serious relationship with Bashir, who is very emphatically not Cardassia. He’s not used to being divided in his passions!

It’s not that I’m never capable of being moved by post-canon stuff that involves Bashir being charmed by how slippery Garak is, or them generally being quippy and fond of each other (I’m not made of stone here). But I’m never satisfied with just that, because that escapist element never feels like it translates well from the early seasons of the show to post-canon, and because it never engages with what I find the most fascinating about what’s set up with their whole dynamic. (And I especially dislike it when it feels like Bashir’s character is getting shortchanged in terms of his complexity and moral convictions being excised in order for Garak to get everything he wants.)

[a-d-nox]

tarot hypothesis: major arcana and squid game player numbers

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067 (0+6+7 = 13 -> death)

has a very transformative experience while playing the games especially when playing marbles. unfortunate for her, she has an unforgettable death moment where she's dying from her internal wounds only for 218 to "unexpectedly" kill her before she could succumb to the wound. like the mourners in the card, 456 is so devastated by her death that it changes his outlook on the final game.

218 (2+1+8 = 11 -> justice)

is the first person to mention the voting process to leave the game on the show. also kindly let ali borrow money and his phone... despite the final rounds, he began the games with a level of fairness kept in mind.

101 (1+0+1 = 2 -> high priestess)

perfect definition of reversed high priestess energy, he shows time and time again that his is disconnected from his own intuition - he doesn't know who to trust outside or even inside the games. he also relies too heavily on others when it comes down to it...

456 (4+5+6 = 15 -> devil)

gi-hun is like the terminator he just keeps coming back for more - but seriously homeslice literally comes back to the worst place he has ever been and where he has faced his own addiction with games... also he tends to make the same mistakes over and over like trusting people he thinks he knows...

333 (3+3+3 = 9 -> hermit)

myung-gi is a cryptocurrency influencer... its virgo male coded... but also i would like to predict him dying in darkness or being alone in some fashion during the final season's games. if not that then, i believe 222 is going to leave him in the dust.

388 (3+8+8 = 19 -> sun)

tell me dae-ho doesn't have hella youngful energy? also of naivety??? the sun is explorer so either he is a VIP or he could escape (by mere luck)... OR, which i think is most likely, he will end up being somewhere he shouldn't be and be killed for it.

246 (2+4+6 = 12 -> hanged man)

martyr coded... we just knew he was gonna die... and it's a horribly sad story because his sick daughter is all alone now...

120 (1+2+0 = 3 -> empress)

GET IT GET IT GET IT!!! i am sorry WHAT that is so on the nose. a trans woman as the empress is crazy spot on. i love it!! i saw that and was like *GASP*!!! also *gasp* because its park sung-hoon

007 (0+0+7 = 7 -> chariot)

oof more reversal energy... that man hesitated so hard when it came to getting his mother in my opinion and he hesitated when voting too... not to mention the lack of impulse control that he has...

149 (1+4+9 = 14 -> temperance)

i have seen a lot of people saying that she is a VIP and i disagree especially if this matrix numerology is still spot in s3. she is definitely a "friend" and not a foe.

390 (3+9+0 = 12 -> hanged man)

another martyr coded person. he was set up so the audience would love him and feel like he was a good person only for him to get swept away by someone who he just knew too much about.

222 (2+2+2 = 6 -> lovers)

bro please hear me out... front man's wife died carrying their baby - what if his empathy and projection of his history on to her is what ends up saving her life?? he did make a few comments (no i don't think he just has human decency lol) about taking it easy and to be careful because she is pregnant...

044 (0+4+4 = 8 -> strength)

when i was watching the show i was like i don't see it - i get moon (18) energy vibes but not strength (8) then she had her mini meltdown and i was like there it is... there is the vulnerability under that mask of "faith" in fate.

125 (1+2+5 = 8 -> strength)

then on the other hand... this is an extremely vulnerable character with zero back bone seriously reversed energy...

230 (2+3+0 = 5 -> heirophant)

thanos - tell me that man's ritual was not popping a pill and getting out there in the game.

001 (0+0+1 = 1 -> magician)

OBVIOUSLY no one can trust anyone what equals 1. its a duh moment (even in the 8 show - which i may do next if this does well) - the magician is a creator when upright and a manipulator when reversed...

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[tumblingxelian]

There's this ridiculous narrative that going on in both RWBY subreddit: fans and critics alike are saying that Yang's memory is flawed (or even that she was lying) when she said that she basically had to raise Ruby herself when Tai shut down after Summer died. Their main argument is "Yang was 5! She couldn't even take care of herself, much less a toddler!"

Several works of fiction have five-year-olds whose parents are neglectful, emotionally defeated, or even abusive taking care of themselves just fine, like Matilda (Matilda Wormwood), Persona 4 (Nanako Dojima), and Kotaro Lives Alone (Kotaro Satou). Why are they willing to give them a pass for doing that, while saying that it's impossible in RWBY?

Yang's conversation with Tai before her sparring match in V4 doesn't work if this was the case.

I'm actually insulted by this argument because the mother of my oldest cousin was a complete and utter bitch who divorced my uncle, and cheated him out of as many supervised visits as she could by working overtime whenever she could. Combined with the fact that she worked an 8 to 8 job, my cousin had to teach herself how to cook, do laundry, change her bedsheets, and get herself ready for school since neither my uncle nor her mother were heavily involved in her life, kind of like Matilda, Nanako, and Kotaro. Gee, it's almost like fiction is at least somewhat based on reality. What a concept!

Sorry if I got a little rambly, but my cousin's experience and my own experience as an older brother cause this argument to REALLY make me angry.

I've had endless debates across Reddit, YouTube, Tumblr and forums alike with people who hold that exact stance and it is never not utterly asinine.

Even if we ignore the factual reality that lots of children, even very young one's often end up parentified and left grappling with adult responsibilities as a small child.

Which I need to stress we should not ignore and the fact these people do shows just how willfully ignorant they are being.

The fact of the matter is it makes no narrative, character or thematic sense for her to be wrong about this!

Like, really, what is the narrative end goal in these people's brains, to have one of the main characters most overtly emphasized sources of trauma. Not only brought up by herself but by the sister she had to raise. Be wrong?

It makes every scene discussing it, every aspect of her character it informs, every bit if dialogue that touched on it utterly meaningless. CRWBY don't have that kind of time to waste on a red herring that serves literally Zero purpose!

But of course these people don't give two fried fucks about things like basic common sense or competent writing.

They want Yang to be delusional or lying because in their mind the fact she 'dared' be traumatized, 'dared' to be something other than a ditsy party girl and 'dared' be even indirectly critical of a man, of her father, is an insult to them.

Thus they want to ignore what's on screen, what the writers say, what the characters say, what reality says about situations exactly like this to erase her trauma and depth, All our a blend of sexist offence and misogynistic defensiveness of a minor male character.

It sucks but then, since wen hasn't RWDE been awful?

On your example:

Extremely well said, very good examples, I would also add Gohan from Dragon Ball surviving in the wilderness for a full year at the age of 3/4/5 depending on translations.

There's so many conversations tat make no coherent sense if Yang was wrong, but as said, these people don't care about good writing.

My sympathies and respect to your cousin and exactly, reality is often stranger than fiction and frankly this fictional scenario isn't even that strange sadly :/

I am right there with you for my own reasons, it sucks!

Literally the only area in which one can reasonably argue that Yang might be somewhat misinformed I thin is in relation to what exactly was going on in Ruby's head at the time.

IE, believing she didn't understand what was going on yet. That doesn't actually undercut any of her own experiences, but could be the case as it seems Ruby's memories of those early days are perhaps clearer tan Yang realizes.

Of course this changes nothing about Yang being parentified from an incredibly young age, because Ruby herself outright said Yang raised her.

[chiacanwritesometimes]

casual (part 1)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1.2k

authors note: this was a little hard to write, as i had to delve into the reserves of my own experiences, so this hits a little close to home. i will be updating soon! unedited. there is soft smut and mentions of homophobia. this whole series is about situationships, so dni if this triggers anything or makes you uncomfortable. please do not get into anything you do not feel comfortable doing, and know that you are loved and should not settle for less. my dm’s are always open. much love, and enjoy.

===========

your pov

you didn’t blame him. he wasn’t really in the best of mentalities for a relationship, so it must’ve meant a lot for him to choose you. or, at least, not push you away.

after losing his best friend, he decided he should lay low. if he didn’t get close with anyone, he would get hurt. except you. always, except you.

you would come over to his bleak apartment, and chat for a bit. occasionally, you’d bring him some food. you’d write down the events in your journal, rereading them time and time again to feel closer to him. you knew he didn’t want you, or rather, want you the way you needed him to. he was still stuck, mourning the loss of his best friend, and…lover. but he was gone, and you were right here. why wouldn’t he pick you? you weren’t terrible looking, and you weren’t … terrible in bed either. what was so utterly unappealing in you? you wrote in your journal. maybe in your thoughts, you’d find the answer.

entry 1:

it was 2 in the morning when i came over. the clock keeps ticking longer each time i go, and im hoping that one of these nights you’ll ask me to stay. you never do. i dont like the way i manage to say everything that’s on my mind when im with you. i think that one day, ill let you read all this, but for now, its just mine. i want to not like you, so badly. i get so nervous around you, my chest tightens, my lips curl inward, my eyes dodge yours, my hands are occupied with my sweater, and my heart beats speeding up by the second. i usually am more eloquent and organized with my words and feelings, but today was so frustrating. i can’t look into your eyes when we fuck, because i know that through mine you look for him. your eyes attack mine. your eyes are unkind, your eyes are bitter. your hands hold me, wishing i was someone else. your lips softly graze against mine, hoping that you’d catch a glimpse of what it would be like if it was him instead.

you picked up your pen, and sighed. that was enough angst for tonight. you still had his sweat on your skin to wash off.

he wasn’t evil, just in a confusing situation. you convinced yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would probably do the same. it still didn’t take away from the pain, though. you liked him best when you were the sole focus on his attention, and when he told you pretty things. you got a sick sense of comfort when he squirmed under your gaze. he knew what he was doing wasn’t right, but cmon. he must have had some sort of clue if he felt guilty.

his pov

you had just left his apartment on a sour note. it wasn’t uncommon for that to happen. he would send you a text, saying he was sorry, you’d respond, and the cycle would repeat again. it was almost comical how long it has been since you two had been at this. he had put himself in an awkward situation again, but he wasn’t sure if it was an uncomfortable one. the last time he was in a one sided relationship was with… it wasn’t a relationship, at least not by technicality. sure, they slept together, spent time together, cried together, but he knew deep down his heart belonged to peggy. he wasn’t jealous, but a part of him wondered what would have happened if he was honest with his feelings. hes sure nothing would have changed, as it would have been extremely controversial for america’s sweetheart to have a sweetheart of his own, let alone a male one. he felt like a kept secret, a promise that one day, things will be different. they never were.

now, with you, things were different. he felt the need to shield himself from the world, but it wasn’t because homosexuality wasn’t accepted, rather because he wasn’t. his mere existence was hated by many, for who he was, who he hurt. the winter soldier, although gone, still haunted him.

he didn’t want to hurt you. being close with you would mean that you’d have to take care of him, something he hardly ever did, so why should you? other than aftercare, he wouldn’t let his guard down when you were near. he was afraid that he would be right, and you wouldn’t give a shit about him, worried that you just wanted him for his body, like them. he didn’t like thinking of you that lowly, but after a life like his, it was bound to happen.

he sighed, and grabbed his phone. he texted you a small apology, silently cursing himself for continuing this cycle. he threw his phone on the couch and sighed. he got up, walked to the kitchen and made himself a small breakfast. the morning didn’t start just yet, but might as well start the day now.

your pov

you couldnt hate him. you loved the way he loved you, the way you came undone with his touch. his scent was addicting, and you were obsessed with the way he tucked your hair behind your ear, the way he breathed heavily under the sheets, the way he held you so gently when pumping inside you. you thought of this morning, and sighed.

you got his text, and smiled. “miss you. door’s open. bb.” you found it adorable how he typed in short sentences, and finished each message in “bb”, for “bucky barnes”, as if you didn’t know it was him. you dressed yourself casually. nothing too fancy, nothing too drab. you wore a small amount of perfume, just enough so his bedsheets smelled like you. you wore your favorite lingerie, knowing that romance was out of the picture. this was just a fuck, a quick connection between two people before the knowledge of knowing you will never be his overcame you. you showed up to his apartment, and he opened the door. you didn’t even need to knock, he knew you were there. he smiled.

“you look beautiful.”

you walked in, and he started kissing you. you always wore a low cut tank top, and he always lingered on the straps of your shirt. he’d bite it, almost whining that the small piece of fabric was in between him and your body. he led you to the couch, and let you straddle him. he removed your pants, complimenting the way they hugged your hips while doing so. you got on top of him, loving how almost natural it felt, how perfectly you fit on top of him. his favorite part to leave hickeys was in the sweet spot of your neck. he kissed over the healed bruise, evidence of the last time you came over to his place.

you went to bed. might as well catch some sleep before the morning came.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Hi Rachel,

In some of my writing I’m beginning to notice more and more that certain characters (not all) remind me of myself lol. And I hate it, I go back and rewrite them. But I’m interested if you relate to any of your characters as well so—Out of the characters you’ve written (Lonan, Reeve, Harrison, etc..) who do you think is the most like you? And what’s your take on writers seeing themselves in some of their characters?

feel about seeing reflections

Hahaha I used to HATE writing characters that were like me, and it took a while to realize that actually, they ALL are me in some iteration. To answer your question about writers seeing themselves in their characters—if writing characters that are “self-inserts” makes you joyful, DO IT!!! If writing characters who aren’t self-inserts but have attributes to you makes you joyful, DO IT! Or if you’re not into it—that’s fine too! Life is too short! Have fun with what works for you!

My experience below, this gets kind of intense as a warning! CW: suicidal ideation, disocciation

Aligning myself with my characters has been an intensely life-saving experience. I’m not sure I’d be here if it were not for Lonan… 16-year-old Rachel WAS him, and also needed him because literally nobody else “understood” where I was at except for him (undiagnosed autism for BOTH OF US??).

There was a time of my life where I couldn’t emotionally regulate at all, and in moments of stress, would often dissociate and quite literally converse with this man (looking back now, this was just a coping mechanism—confirmed by my doctor btw!—but for a couple years he was a genuine part of my psyche, like moved out of just character territory). I think I talked about this years ago, but I have a really distinct memory of disconnecting so much I quite literally thought he was THERE next to me, which I needed—he really became an externalization of the things I couldn’t deal with (or didn’t understand how to deal with). I needed to see myself reflected in the eye of someone else and for a really long time that was Lonan for me. Actually screaming crying that’s so cute.

And Lonan is similar to me in a lot of ways! This is a side tangent but when I was first diagnosed as autistic it made me wonder if I’d inadvertently written any autistic characters & it struck me way back then that the person most similar to me (Lonan lol) is probably also autistic. I was like—sensory issues?? No emotional regulation?? Speaks a bit oddly?? We are THE SAME. Haven’t really confirmed this in canon lol but I’ve been thinking about it since 2021.

Funnily, now that I have that diagnosis, my life is a lot more stable so like… I’m not currently the most like Lonan lol. But me at 16-19??? Absolutely him.

Unfortunately, I am currently HARRISON, which isn’t ideal but just like he’s a 21-year-old experiencing horrors I’m a 21-year-old experiencing horrors (which is why BB is sometimes painful to write cuz I’m like oooooh I’m feeling this… too much). To be fair, I’ve always said I’m the introverted version of Harrison (because I am lol our personality types are the same, not that I believe in those but since I was like 13 I’ve said this). But just like Lonan, Harrison has helped me now process some tough things this year that I’m not sure how else I would’ve survived. It’s important to me that I have fictional vessels to explore my own life with because it can help me identify problems & then learn to empathize with myself by empathizing with a character first.

Of course they’re also separate from me—they absolutely didn’t start as ME but as time goes on I start seeing myself in them particularly (Reeve sometimes too—our kindred spirits with processing toxic relationships <3). Maybe it’s because I am autistic, but I find it useful to understand my experiences via someone else. I love seeing the ways we can inform each other.

My TL;DR is I’m Harrison if he was Lonan so I guess I’m BB Harrison. Love this for me so much. But also add autism. Which is probably already there because: Lonan. LMAO and a dash of Reeve’s compartmentalization skills. And we have me!

[sideprince]

I resent getting dragged into the discourse but it's wild to me that there are people out there who read the HP books and laud Harry for being brave and having a big heart and redeeming the wizarding world with his unusually great ability to love, yet can't comprehend how he could learn to appreciate Snape's sacrifice.

I'm very specifically thinking of the fact that Harry watches Snape die. Snape, who is lying on the floor, gripping Harry's robes, and whose eyes Harry is looking into and seeing the life leave. I don't understand how people can humanize some fictional characters and treat them as if they were real and completely dehumanize another. Not even for Snape's sake, but for Harry's sake, do these people not understand what it is to watch someone die? What's the expectation, that the Capacity For Love Posterchild protagonist steps out of character and doesn't care about the guy he watches bleed out and die suffering because you, as a reader, don't like him?

Which is it? Does Harry have a huge capacity to love or not? Pick a lane. Either you value this character trait in Harry or you don't. But you have to take or leave everything it comes with, otherwise you're a hypocrite. Or maybe illiterate.

I just don't GET it.

[painfully-unoriginal]

2 this day i still see ppl saying any fan art or even official art w dan genuinely smiling is out of character. u dont kno him like i do

[contagious-watermelon]

It's interesting to me that understandings of transsexuality have been almost exclusively filtered through the lens of queerness and the social aspects of gender. In other words, that the "T" was added to "LGBT." I've thought for a while that in a lot of cases, transness — and specifically dysphoria — makes a lot more sense when analyzed through the lens of disability rather than through queerness. (Personally I see it as being at the intersection between those things.)

I think that a theory of transsexuality would be incomplete without taking into account the societal aspects of gender, yes, but it seems to be similarly incomplete in the popular understanding of it.

I've seen a lot of discussion in the stuff I've read by disabled people about the contention between being objectively harmed or, well, disabled, by your disability, but still wanting to be proud of it or finding identity in it regardless. A lot of autistic communities, I've noticed, talk a lot about the fact that being autistic is difficult; it's made worse by other people's reactions to it, but it still is hard on its own (e.g. auditory overstimulation); yet people still can say that they'd rather be autistic than not. Or they may say they wish they weren't, but that they've come to terms with it because it's not exactly changeable.

Point is, there's open discussion about the differences between inherent challenges to your disability regardless of society, the ways which ableism makes things more difficult, and the contention of finding identity and community in your disability despite that. (And I use autism as an example because I'm autistic; I don't want to speak for, say, a physically disabled community as I'm able-bodied. But I have seen similar discussions there as well.)

The trans community, as I've seen, doesn't really have that. We're polarized between the extremely self-hating people who think that being trans is a curse and that people who like being trans are just fakers co-opting transness, and the toxically positive contingent who refuse to engage with the fact that sometimes dysphoria really does just hurt. And also that transphobia exists.

There's also the fact that in many ways, dysphoria is actually disabling. It isn't for everyone, and part of the problem is that transness as a concept covers so many things that analyzing it through just one lens will always be incomplete, but for me at least it caused me a lot of depression and dissociation, and made it difficult-to-impossible to interact with other people or function at my classes. Back before I medically transitioned, I related a lot to some descriptions by disabled people about their chronic pain, because my dysphoria effectively was chronic psychological pain. I don't want to say it's the same thing, because obviously I've only experienced one of those things, and dysphoria has a treatment while many (all?) chronic illnesses don't, but nevertheless it was a comforting lens to think of my dysphoria through in the time before I got top surgery.

Also of note is the way both our communities are treated by the medical establishment. I've heard many horror stories by disabled people of how doctors simply refuse to diagnose them or give them issues with their meds. Trans people obviously also have to deal with the shit that doctors put out in order to get access to HRT and any necessary surgeries. People deride HRT, saying that we shouldn't take it because it'll "make you a medical patient for life." People act like mental pain isn't real — calling depression fake, acting like because things like fibromyalgia aren't "real pain" that it shouldn't bother you so much, etc. — and that extends too into the way they dismiss the pain of gender dysphoria.

So, I don't really understand why the trans community has taken so many pains to disavow themselves from being considered even remotely similar to disabled people. I know that the common refrain, "we're not mentally ill!" is meant to combat the idea that we're deluded into thinking that we're a "different gender" than we really are, but the effect is throwing actually mentally ill trans people under the bus. The insistence that there's no way that dysphoria should be considered a disorder because there's nothing wrong with us — I just think that we could take a hint or two from the way that disabled people theorize about this subject.

[androphagy]

the big overlap is intentional and this is directly related to my last post!!!! people who are telling you we're so different are lying to you and the differences between us are not the fault of the trans community but can be exacerbated by the bigotry systemic to the cultures we live in across the world

[bpd4bpd]

anyone else's lack of emotional permanence contributes a LOT to their imposter syndrome?? i know its a bit paradoxical since thats literally a symptom of bpd AND adhd but my silly self likes to grasp at any straws i can to "proof" im faking

[te4k3ttle]

Extremely burnt out unable to draw anything when I have both free time and shit ton of ideas hardest battles for the most already tired soldiers

[steviescrystals]

i will never shut up about how much i hate the college system in the us and the way it’s all about money because i genuinely love learning and i miss being in school so fucking bad but i simply cannot afford the education i want

[taliabhattwrites]

I don't think there is a significant or notable number of people who believe transmascs are not oppressed.

I feel slightly insane just having to type this out, but this is rhetoric you inevitably come across if you discuss transfeminism on Tumblr.

The mainstream, cissexist understanding of transmasculine people is the Irreversible Damage narrative (one that's old enough to show up in Transsexual Empire as well) of transmascs as "misguided little girls", "tricked" into "mutilating themselves". It is a deliberately emasculating and transphobic narrative that very explicitly centers on oppression, even if the fevered imaginings misattribute the cause. As anyone who's dealt with the gatekeeping medical establishment knows, they are far from giving away HRT or even consults with both hands, and most transfems I know have a hard enough time convincing people to take DIY T advice, leave alone "tricking" anyone into top surgery.

Arguably, the misogyny that transmasculine folks experience is the defining narrative surrounding their existence, as transmasculinity is frequently and erroneously attributed to "tomboyish women" who resent their position in the patriarchy so much they seek to transition out of it. This rhetoric is an invisiblization of transmasculinity, constructed deliberately to preserve gendered verticality, for if it were possible to "gain status" under the sexed regime, its entire basis, its ideological naturalization, would fall apart.

Honestly, the actual discussions I see are centered around whether "transmisogyny" is a term that should apply to transmascs and transfems alike. While I understand the impetus for that discussion, I feel like the assertion that transmisogyny is a specific oppression that transfems experience for our perceived abandonment of the "male sex" is often conflated with the incorrect idea that we believe transmasculine people are not oppressed at all. This is not true, and we understand, rather acutely, that our society is entirely organized around reproductive exploitation. That is, in fact, the source of transfeminine disposability!

I know I'm someone who "just got here" and there is a history here that I'm not a part of, but so much of that history is speckled with hearsay and fabrication that I can't even attempt to make sense of it. All I know is that I, in 2024, have been called a revived medieval slur for effeminate men by people who attribute certain beliefs to me based on my being a trans woman who is also a feminist, and I simply do not hold those views, nor do I know anyone who sincerely does.

If you're going to attempt to discredit a transfeminist, or transfeminism in general, then please at least do us the courtesy of responding to things we actually say and have actually argued instead of ascribing to us phantom ideologies in a frankly conspiratorial fashion. I also implore people to pay attention to how transphobic rhetoric operates out in the wider world, how actual reactionaries talk about and think of trans people, instead of fixating so hard on internecine social media clique drama that one enters an alternate reality--a phantasm, as Judith Butler would put it.

Speaking of which--do y'all have any idea how overrepresented transmascs are in trans studies and queer theory? Can we like, stop and reckon with reality-as-it-is, instead of hallucinating a transfeminine hegemony where it doesn't exist? I'm aware a lot of their output isn't particularly explicative on the material realities of transmasculine oppression despite their prominence in the academy, but that is ... not the fault of trans women, who face extremely harsh epistemic injustice even in trans studies.

The actual issue is how invisiblized transmasculine oppression is and how the epistemicide that transmasculine people face manifests as a refusal to differentiate between the misogyny all women face, reproductive exploitation in particular, and the contours of violence, erasure, and oppression directed at specifically transmasculine people.

You will notice that is a society-wide problem, motivated by a desire to erase the possibilities of transmasculinity, to the point of not even being willing to name it. You will notice that I am quite familiar with how this works, and how it's completely compatible with a materialist transfeminist framework that analyzes how our oppression is--while distinct--interlinked and stems from the same root.

I sincerely hope that whoever needs to see this post sees it, and that something productive--more productive dialogue, at least--can arise from it.

[gurorori]

continuin the prev post here cuz i feel comfy hidin my talks in tags but i always near the tag limit

[quarterlifekitty]

About to clean my depression+sickness room(I've been sick since the 28th) and it's got me thinking Thots. How would the boys react to you letting certain things slip while they're on deployment? Maybe because you can't seem to do much without them😗

Gaz mostly feels bad— because he’s left you to be all alone while you’re sick and in your feelings. He wants so bad to be everything you need, but he can’t be due to the nature of his work. So he’ll get a head start on cleaning up while he sends you to shower, just to refresh yourself and decompress. He’ll fix up some water and a snack for you, too.

However bad you think you have let it get… there have been times that Soap has let it get even worse. Like, there was a period in his life where he got a desk from ikea, it was missing a single piece, but instead of going to the store to get a replacement the box just sat against his wall for maybe 3 years. So there’s no judgement from him. He’ll come back, you’ll put your heads together to break down the tasks in bite sized chunks, and everything will be fine.

Ghost can’t bring himself to be upset because even the messy parts of you, of living with you— they just prove how alive you are, to him. When he lived by himself there was hardly any decoration. No messes because he didn’t own enough shit to make a mess with. No place felt lived in. It was sterile. So while he feels bad that you feel bad, he would much rather have your messes than no mess in his life at all.

Price is tending to you first and foremost— especially if you’re ill. He loves you, but he has his doubts that you’ve cared for yourself to his standard (he’s a control freak). So he’ll tuck you up in bed after a bath with lots of drinks to choose from on the bedside table and some medicine before he gets cracking with the cleaning. And because he’s a freak, all that just gives him a power trip and makes him feel great.

Fucked up headcanon time. I think König kinda fucking enjoys cleaning. He just likes to experiment with different methods and different orders of operation to find the most optimal technique and timing. So he really doesn’t mind doing however much cleaning on your behalf— won’t even mention it. To him, you do more than enough just by being around and being yourself.

Nikolai, much like Price, will first set about fussing over you to the extreme before anything else can be done. I also think he has a big enough place, combined with his workload and time spent in the hanger/garage, that he occasionally hires people to clean, maybe once a month or so. So he’s not terribly worried about any mess, just about your wellness.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.