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#I have a bunch of songs that fit them
shortcakelils · 1 year
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"Are you a lifeforce?"
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alangdorf · 1 year
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Ok so I know I’ve taken a few liberties here with gijinka-fying the Rampaging Doomers, of all characters, but hear me out: self-recognition through the other (derogatory). Not just a reminder of the part of himself he doesn’t like to acknowledge but also a near-perfect replication of him at his worst (Magolor EX, specifically). They know enough about Doomer and Ancient societies and his situation with the Crown to get right to the heart of his insecurities, which makes them really effective at bullying him. Also like. Extended family judging you for your life choices lol
Anyway, included the lines this time cause I’m really proud of the composition but a bit disappointed with how the coloring turned out. It did however help me pinpoint what I’d like to improve on, which is my coloring/shading. I think I get into details too quickly to the detriment of the piece as a whole and I also think the way I shade doesn’t have enough contrast and doesn’t take light sources into account very well. I just need to do some painting studies sometime and that will fix me, I swear
#art#digital#kirby#magolor#kirby gijinka#magolor epilogue spoilers#rampaging doomers#I always think they’re called flock of doomers because of the song title lol#I think I got most of my rambling out in the post body this time#wait design notes#ok so yeah they’re based off of Magolor EX rather than Traitor cause the color scheme fits pretty well#I didn’t wanna get rid of the head wings and upper tail feathers in favor of the gears so I just added a bunch of gears other places#& I thought the halos were cute lol#I did give them some piercings(?) to mimic the gear teeth there though and fun fact:#they each have a different number that happens to correspond to the number of tails each basic type of doomer has#perhaps a ranking system within the group or something#the outfits are a mixture of elements of Greco-Roman and E/SE Asian fashion inspired by like architectural and musical details in epilogue#which was a bit harrowing given I was worried about that reading as orientalism but I think it turned out ok#also I know the purple to yellow gradient on their wings is not that warm in canon but who am I to refuse a good sunset gradient lol#I forgot about the pieces of the appy slice when I was sketching and I briefly considered sticking them in their mouths#but figured maybe that would be a bit too weird (admittedly Magolor Soul already goes full Mouthful Mode so there would be precedent)#so imagine they just have them in a pocket somewhere#oh also sorry you have to zoom in to see some details especially in the colored version; I have an ongoing problem with scale#I’ve always thought it’s really interesting how Mags’ reaction at the start of this fight is like ‘Oh come on; not *these* guys’
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lcpmon · 5 months
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MRD bad feeling is a Guzma beat down coded song
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sidesteppostinghours · 6 months
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9 and 25 for all of them !! :)
evening gideon!! thank you for the ask :]
9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?
ok. so. the thing about me is that i dont actually listen to music all that often??? its mostly when i draw digitally, and im primarily a traditional artist so i dont really know that many songs. i also have shitty memory so its hard for me to remember quotes. aka this is a pretty hard question for me to answer, but i will try my best:
Caine-"Oh, captain, make up your mind/Before the salt burns your eyes and you run out of time/'Cause you're popping the cork, you get lost in your brain/And you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane" - Ship in a Bottle (fin)
honestly ive never really associated this song with him before but i looked into the lyrics just to see whether it had anything i could think of them with and theres??? actually a bunch of lyrics there that fit???? like to the point i was struggling to decide which one to use for this. but i think this one, the second chorus, really encapsulates the biggest parts of their character. hes the decision maker out of all my steps, the one that knows how to make the logical choices and think his way out of a problem. but hes on a time limit. he doesn't know when it will end, just that it will at some point, and they cant stop if they want everything done in time. also sight and eyes is something i associate caine with a lot, especially closing your eyes/refusing to see. "you get lost in your brain/and you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane." COUGHS. coughs. caine has the most gates open out of all my steps. i also fully intend to make them the source of hb 2.0. yeah.
Cyrus- HE WAS THE ONLY ONE I THOUGHT OF AN ANSWER FOR STRAIGHT AWAY AND I SPRINTED TO HIS TAG JUST TO FIND THE POST
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look him in the eyes and say this to his face. he will look like he got hit by a freight train.
Cecilia- another quote!
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im just gonna go ahead and put my own tags to this one because thats where i put it best:
#thinking about this again with ceci#the best part is the bullet hole#like yeah shes not ready to face the fact that everything shes been doing up till now#was just to distract herself from the absolute misery life became after heartbreak#she has FRIENDS she has people she CARES about and they even seem to like her back!!!!#she even has a girlfriend!#isnt that enough?#tell her thats enough#cecilia rider
theres a reason shes a thrill seeker yall.
Cynthia- "I swear, I'm so fucking sorry/I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all/But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all" - Against the Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)
uh. *looks at cynthias relationship with ortega* uhhhh. *looks at cynthias relationship with sidestep*. uhhhhhhhh.
this song was also difficult to choose lyrics out of, but there is just something so special about girls who simply have to be the best they can to make up for the sin of being. there is something equally as special about girls who take their past selves as judge, and their lover as executioner. also "im not a good person, im barely a person at all" kills me. the regene flavouring on that line??? utterly insane of mr wood to make a song just for her.
25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?
THESE BITCHES ARE SO CONTRADICTORY!!! THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING CLASHING ABOUT THESE FUCKERS AND ITS DELICIOUS. not even just trait wise, but with their themes? their core ideals? their relationships???? its always some sort of fucking fundamental difference shaping the way they act and i am Obsessed with it. also all of them are dangerous and it makes me vibrate a little bit. rangers you are so lucky that none of them are interested in leaning into being a full blown villain. but this question is,,, also difficult to answer because idk how to pick just one favourite lmfao. i will attempt it though.
Caine- he is the normalest guy around. there is also something Deeply Wrong with him. my favourite thing about caine would probably be how fun it is to dive into his psyche! ill often have times where i get bored of them and wonder why i got so interested in the first place, and then i get hit with another round of it and i remember "oh right! its because hes insane." his whole character revolves around what is going on inside their brain, from their high subterfuge to their connection with heartbreak and his relationship with the puppet. theyre the most fun to play with in their mind.
Cyrus- god. my favourite thing about him is a tie between his stubbornness and his surprisingly strong sense of empathy. both of those were the things keeping him from becoming a villain in the first place, and now its whats stopping him from going back to being a hero. i want him to confront what hes become so bad yall dont understand-
Cecilia- cecilia is just. a breath of fresh air. shes easy and super fun to play, and while she certainly has her moments (i am looking directly at the checkpoint three mortum reveal scene), shes mostly lighthearted fun cruising through the game as nothing more than a silly guy. i think the next game will actually dig into her character more deeply and allow me to showcase the parts of her shed usually keep hidden, but for now im having a good time getting her to kiss argent and embarrass her friends.
Cynthia- somebody come pick her up please before she starts crying in this club. she is crying because of me but lets not talk about that. i think my favourite thing about her is the contrast between her general wimpy sad lovergirl disposition and her revenge scar, and how she chooses to cope with it! because like,,,, it is just so so tasty watching her fumble with the overwhelming emotion, Especially since the emotion is hurting people. she never learned what to do with the anger! she does not want it! she wants to be as kind to other people as possible! "im not a bad dog, i dont know why i bite" etc etc. eventually she might figure it out, but Definitely Not Now lmfao.
questions from here!
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salds-miegs · 1 year
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the thing about seeing all the rehearsal photos and footage is on one hand i'm like "oh no my faves are up against some really incredible songs, they might not make it through to the final" but on the other hand, what a joy it is to have a contest where the songs and the staging and everything are So Good!! like it'll be a rough competition for sure, but it's also gonna be so fun to watch, and i am at least trying to convince myself that's what really matters
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potatobugz · 2 years
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what if I made. one of those music playlist thingies but for Eridan. smiles
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yuichiroswife · 2 years
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youtube
Grave... yard... guy...
Yeah, I've been calling all night I know you're home alone I hear the fear in your voice as you pick up the phone And I've got eyes on you now I like the way you breathe But I'm more interested in the ways to make you scream
Got a real fun game I know you'll like It's where you run from me and try to hide And if you don't play right, I think I might Just find a real nice place to put my knife And when you fight back, you're such a tease How many hits it takes to make me bleed And if you play this right, you won't go first Cause you're the last to cut The final girl
I keep on calling you babe Why won't you answer me? There's just one thing that I want Your blood all over me
I'll break the door in, make my way in I'm the killer, you're the victim When you scream, it drives me nuts If you hang up, I'll spill your guts
I hear you breathing, baby Been chasing you all night Think it'd be fun to see if you can make it through the night And now you're screaming, baby The calls are from inside Are you the final girl? The one who makes it out alive
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
Slayyyter Hot blonde, big tits School girl, lipstick Virgin whore, innocent The cheerleader who babysits At home, I'm alone Stranger calls me on the phone Lights go out, you cut the line I'm the perfect sacrifice
Yeah okay, well here's the twist I'm a stone cold cunt, a killer bitch And I'll break your heart, I'll make you sick And I'll rip you apart from limb to limb You'll learn right now I don't play nice And if you hurt me once, I'll kill you twice And I won't go first, Drew Barrymore Cause I'm the last bitch up The final girl
Yeah, you've been calling me babe I'm playing hard to get And just the thought of your blood on me It makes me wet
I'll break the door in, make my way in I'm the killer, you're the victim When you scream, it drives me nuts If you hang up, I'll spill your guts
I hear you breathing, baby Been chasing you all night Think it'd be fun to see if you can make it through the night And now you're screaming, baby The calls are from inside Are you the final girl? The one who makes it out alive
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
What's your favorite scary movie?
I keep on calling you babe Why won't you answer me? There's just one thing that I want Your blood all over me
Your blood (your blood) Your blood (your blood) Your blood (your blood) Makes me wet
I hear you breathing, baby Been chasing you all night Think it'd be fun to see if you can make it through the night And now you're screaming, baby The calls are from inside Are you the final girl? The one who makes it out alive
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
Do you wanna be the final girl? D-Do you wanna be the final girl? It's life or death, you're in my world And it's life or death to be my girl
Hello?
Envyness & Mika via our threads. // @s-talking
#✠ [ ' ɢɪꜰᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɢᴏᴅ. ' ] - ✡ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟᴀ ꜱʜɪɴᴅᴏ ✡#✠ [ ' ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪꜱꜱɪᴘɪ. ' ] - ✡ ᴇɴᴠʏ ✡#✠ [ ' ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴜʟʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ; ꜰᴏᴏᴛꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ʟɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ. ' ] - ✡ ꜱ-ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ✡#✠ [ ' ɪғ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛ... ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ? ' ] - ✡ ᴇɴᴠʏ x ᴍɪᴋᴀ ✡#✠ [ ' ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴜꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡʀᴇᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ. ' ] - ✡ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ɪ. ✡#{ This song made me think about them. Like... 100% them for sure. }#{ I can see Envy being the guy's part while Mika would be the girl's part since at first Envy expected Mika to- }#{ be really scared and avoidant of him only for him to become just as ruthless as himself in the end. }#{ Just look at the thread we had over Discord after all. }#{ I think it's pretty fitting and I have to say that it's one of my favorite songs that I have. }#{ I hope that you enjoy listening to it as well honestly. }#{ Also wanna say that I miss you a whole bunch! }#{ I hope that you're doing okay. <3 }#Youtube#{ Don't mind me tossing this onto the dash finally. }
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toytulini · 11 months
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can i access the tunglr on work wifi but not discord. insane
#toy txt post#apologies in advance. nonzero chance this means i liveblog The Horrors. of slogging thru work#and or also liveblog. my own going insane over tryimg to remake character playlists now that the characters have evolved enough#that i look at their og playlists like.......what was i thinking#mostly. mostly Bytte#its just#hard to find things that match Bytte or Headloose or both of them and their. fucked up little dynamic both tonally and lyrically?#like in theory i Want to put Shakiras She Wolf on Bytte's playlist. its so iconic and In Theory. it could match. i could force it#in practice........god i dont even know how to expkain how it does not fit Bytte like....tonally and probably not even lyrically#i love bridge city sinners sound and a lot of their lyrics and would love to put them on both playlists but like lyrically and subject wise#theres just.....not much that fits?#i might be willing to try to explain Why It Doesnt Fit if i had more time ? and wasnt just typing in between printing labels..idk#and defining what doesnt work and why might in turn help me find more stuff that Does#i think i need to listen to a little more uhhhhhh. megan thee stallion? is that how u spell her name? for bytte. unsure. its so tricky#like half the shit on her playlist like only a couple lines in the song Really vibe w me idk#i actually just. remade her playlist completely the other day and im less mad at it now but it still could use a lot of improvement#theres not a good like.....flow between the songs? ig?#need to. figure out headloose now also.i think in fairness when i made Bytte's playlist i still hadnt really developed her as a character#much at all yet? idk#im not As Mad at either of Headloose's playlists theres just a bunch i need to add and reorganize and prolly need to trim? and tbh i prolly#need to just honestly make multiple separate playlists for all of them like i did for Suki....#that will be similar and have plenty of overlap but have different nuances for the different eras of their lives#like. idk maybe Bytte needs to just have a Separate playlist for how her approach to and relationship w her sexuality evolves between#how she is as a human and. warlord. and then ig after she is w headloose which#is after she decides to become a demon but before shes fully transformed cos shes not dead yet so the evolution there is still#more subtle until she turns fully. and headloose gets 1) better at controlling the shapeshifting and healing factors and#2) Headloose getting more fucked up kinks. i guess. or learning more of his own fucked up kinks. or whatever#and the influence that has on her as well AND ALSO her like. lowkey toxicity in any attempts at long term rships#due to being a woman in a weird position in a point in history where we probably didnt have a word for aromanticism#...im out of tags. how does this happen everytime
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leatherbookmark · 1 year
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my favourite thing abt tumblr mass-finding out about the origins of the “poor little meow meow” phrase is a couple of people in the tags, who listen to things like, i assume, punk or rap, going “oh so THIS is what people got so emotional over? wow they wouldn’t last a day over here” or “ah, this, yeah a couple of guys from our side did it too”. refreshing
#i feel like it would also benefit people to realize that like. the fact that kpop is FULL of random phrases and more and more groups promote#overseas to the point of having the hour of their comeback be convenient for the US rather than just korea... absolutely DOES NOT!!!#DOES NOT!!! mean they all speak perfect (or even reliably passable) english and are knowledgeable about the things english-speaking#internet cares about. every once in a while there's a new twt storm because some idol says or does something insensitive and hurtful to a#group of their fans and its like. well yeah it's a horrible feeling but i cannot overstate how many of these idols just Don't Know Shit#like. idk. black people. i'd say most kpop idols -- who are just some guys and not tumblr/twitter users -- associate black people with like#music artists. rappers. they're cool and they have those cool braids! i'm doing a rap song and i want to be cool like them! lemme put on#those braid extensions! yahoo! <-- everyone hated that.#this is not to say that koreans are wee little babies who shouldn't be held accountable or that they're all stupid#but even despite kpop's insane worldwide popularity i doubt any of those idols are getting worldwide-flavoured sensitivity training#they're all perfect at saying cloyingly sweet bullshit to their fans -- i will love you all for the rest of my life! bro WHO would believe#that it's so embarrassing just sing your fucking songs -- but that's it! hell the younger groups are even bad at knowing how to act in thei#OWN country; with older idols complaining that the newbies talk to them casually (not using the polite language like you should) or even#flat out ignore/don't saw hello or bow to them. twt people are like 'korea has the fastest internet in the world' aye and they use it for#games and teenage internet stuff; not educating themselves on things they know nothing about#the sermon was 100% unintelligible to myg and he just picked it because it had a Tone that must have fit the image of the song in his mind#it's like all those people getting 'chinese' tattoos that say stupid shit like pork belly or baka gaijin or a bunch of misspelled character#tilted by 90 degrees#like i myself didn't know about the cult leader until the sample drama. so#some kp/op fans are absolutely rabid though. especially on twt#shrimp thoughts
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ritzcrackee · 7 months
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aughhhhh i keep thinking about the dorian electra concert last night,,,,
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fireinmoonshot · 2 months
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death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.
One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.
The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 
He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.
And you had – in the start. 
You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.
To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 
But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?
The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.
That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 
You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.
“Not interested in going viral?”
You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”
“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 
There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 
“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 
Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”
You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.
“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”
You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 
“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 
You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”
He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”
The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 
“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 
“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.
“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”
Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 
“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”
You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 
He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”
You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 
“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”
Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.
When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 
“What? I got something on my face?”
“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.
Tyler frowns. “What is?”
“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.
He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 
“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.
Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”
Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 
It drives Tyler insane. 
The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 
The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.
He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.
“You sure that’s all it was?” 
“A hundred percent, Boone.”
He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 
He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  
He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.
The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 
It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.
Until you learnt about the bet.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”
Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.
“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.
“Explain.”
“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”
You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”
She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 
Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.
“Which direction are we going, then?”
“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 
You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…
Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.
“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.
“I’m going to fix this mess!” 
Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.
“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 
“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”
Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”
“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”
For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 
You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?
“Nothing can change your mind?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”
“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”
“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 
“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”
“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”
Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”
“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 
You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 
“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”
He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”
“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.
“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”
You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 
“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 
Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 
You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 
“East or west, Owens?”
Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 
“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 
A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 
“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 
“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”
You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.
“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.
“Oh, we will!”
As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.
He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.
Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.
If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 
He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 
In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 
“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”
Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.
“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 
Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.
Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 
“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 
Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 
“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”
It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 
He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.
He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 
Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.
“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.
Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.
He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.
“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.
You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 
When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.
You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 
And then, it changed course.
“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.
He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.
Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.
You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 
The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 
The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.
The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 
You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 
You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 
The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 
Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.
By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 
Boone is quick to follow him.
Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.
No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.
He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.
“Hey, I need some help over here!”
It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.
Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.
“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 
He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.
“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 
Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.
He only hears silence.
The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.
You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?
Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 
With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.
You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.
“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.
His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”
You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 
“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”
“Tyler!” 
He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 
“You never call me by my first name.”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”
Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 
“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”
“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”
You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.
The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 
“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”
He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 
“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.
There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”
You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.
Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”
For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 
“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”
He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”
“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 
You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.
“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”
You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.
“You don’t hate me?”
“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”
Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”
“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”
“Embroidered it myself.”
You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.
“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.
Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”
“That’s how you’re asking me out?”
He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.
“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.
He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”
“We got you,” Boone says.
“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.
It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.
Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.
You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 
It was something both of you were glad for.
“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 
“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 
Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”
You snort. “You, classy?”
“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.
You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”
Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”
“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”
“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”
He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.
3K notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 2 days
Text
Fun Sized
Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 
(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)
The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 
You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 
He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 
The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 
Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 
When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 
It was silent for a while, and then you said: 
"Do you like sweets?" 
That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 
He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 
You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 
Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 
"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 
It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 
And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 
It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 
"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 
You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 
"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 
You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 
"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 
He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 
"What?" He asks, "Why not?"
"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 
"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 
"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 
You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 
"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 
He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 
"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 
"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 
"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 
"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 
"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 
"I like my men a little taller." 
He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 
He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 
You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 
"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 
"Hi." He smiles. 
You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 
"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 
He grins wider, and you relax. 
He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 
"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 
You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 
He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 
"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 
He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 
"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 
"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 
"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 
You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 
Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 
"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 
He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 
Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 
You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 
The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 
You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 
The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 
Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.
There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.
You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 
"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 
You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 
He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 
"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 
You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 
"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 
"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 
"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 
He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."
He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 
"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 
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r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e · 1 year
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idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —
“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.
“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”
except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —
“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”
“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”
“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.
so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.
rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.
they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.
and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.
once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.
it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.
they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.
jesus christ, eddie thinks.
they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —
the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.
eddie is maybe a little bit in love.
they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.
“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“
“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“
“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“
“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”
“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.
“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.
“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.
“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.
eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.
“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.
“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.
“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.
“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.
where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.
hm, eddie thinks.
“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”
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cordeliawhohung · 8 months
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*taps mic*
shy!reader getting drunk with prices wife maybe i the club cuz its prices wife’s birthday? and then when simon arrives she’s giddy and all over him
this kind of turned into a drabble because i thought the idea was cute. however i am writing this past my bedtime so... enjoy :)
"come get your girlfriend."
those words hardly processed in Simon's mind no matter how many times he repeated them in his head. with a groan, he rubbed his eyes before he pulled his phone away from his ear to check the time. 1:07. the one time the man tried to go to bed early, of course he would get a phone call from his boss. he just didn't expect it to be about you.
"she alright?" Simon asked as he returned the phone to his ear.
"she's fine, just properly pissed at the moment. trying to get the wife home and it's like herding cats when those two are drunk," John sighed. a fit of laughter sounded on the end of his line, and even through the fuzziness and poor quality, Simon was able to pick out your giggles like it was his favorite song.
"i'll be there in ten."
Simon wasn't all too surprised to find you, John, and his wife holed up in one of the VIP rooms, and if anything he was a little relieved. the thought of you so exposed and not in your right mind around a bunch of strangers made him a little anxious, but he knew you wouldn't be caught dead in a situation like that. yet there you were, sitting in the conversation pit chatting away with your friend who wore some cheesy birthday girl sash and a dollar store crown to go with it. the way you talked and gestured was so... unlike you. it was more confident, less stiff and more fluid, like you didn't have a care in the world.
on the other hand, John looked like he was ten minutes away from falling asleep. his shirt was ruffled, and there were slight lipstick marks along the side of his chin. work of art from his wife, no doubt. Simon couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the mess that had been made, and he was just glad he wouldn't be expected to clean it up.
"hey sweetheart," he greeted as he stepped into the pit.
your eyes slowly flickered around the room until they landed on him. a glossy sort of drunkenness clouded your eyes and yet they shined just as bright when you grinned up at him.
"baby! you came to hang out with us?" you asked as you hopped off of the couch.
Simon watched you stumble toward him with arms ready to catch you, and not even a moment later you collided with his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. caught off guard but still pleased with your reaction, Simon chuckled as he settled his arms around you to return your drunken hug.
"i came to take you home. it's gettin' late," he explained.
"home? like to my place?' you asked.
Simon shrugged. "or you can stay the night with me, if you like."
"yes," you said, drawing out the last letter to the point you nearly sounded like a snake. "i like sleeping in your bed, it smells nice."
taken aback by your unfiltered comment, Simon couldn't help but smile and shake his head slightly. he rubbed your back in an attempt to coax you into relinquishing your grip on his torso, but you wouldn't budge.
"c'mon," he urged with a small chuckle, "let's get goin' yeah? it's late."
"but this feels nice," you retorted.
"i'll hug you all you like when we get home."
you hummed for quite some time as you swayed back and forth, forcing Simon into your movements. eventually you gave in and pulled away from him just enough to look up at him with a sleepy smile.
"okay. but you have to hold my hand when we walk out of here because i think i'll cry if i walk through that crowd," you relented.
John was right about one thing: getting you home really was like herding cats. you clung to him as if you were a parasite and you chatted away the entire ride back to his apartment, and though he was surprised it wasn't unwelcome. things got easier by the time he got you settled in bed. burrowing underneath the covers, you breathed in the musk of him and the faint hint of cigarettes as you hid your face in his chest.
"i love you," you mumbled as you settled further into him.
"i love you more," he countered.
"impossible."
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coff33andb00ks · 2 months
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world around us
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summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe
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"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"
Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.
Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"
"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.
"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"
"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"
"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."
"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."
Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."
Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"
"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."
"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.
"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."
And then, twenty minutes later–
"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"
The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.
You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.
You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.
Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.
"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.
"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.
"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You hum thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.
"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.
"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."
He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.
"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.
"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—
"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.
"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."
"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.
"FaceTime too," you promise.
It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.
"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.
Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.
"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.
The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.
The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.
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