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haru-dipthong · 7 months ago

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Gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

In Revolutionary Girl Utena, the main character Utena is a girl (it says so in the title), but very conspicuously uses the masculine first person pronoun 僕 (boku) and dresses in (a variation of) the boys school uniform. Utena's gender, and gender in general, is a core theme of the work. And yet, I haven’t seen a single translation or analysis post where anyone considers using anything other than she/her for Utena when speaking of her in English. This made me wonder: how does one’s choice of pronouns in Japanese correspond to what one’s preferred pronouns would be in English?

There are 3 main differences between gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

Japanese pronouns are used to refer to yourself (first-person), while English pronouns are used to refer to others (third-person)

The Japanese pronoun you use will differ based on context

Japanese pronouns signify more than just gender

Let’s look at each of these differences in turn and how these differences might lead to a seeming incongruity between one’s Japanese pronoun choice and one’s English pronoun choice (such as the 僕 (boku) vs she/her discrepancy with Utena).

Part 1: First-person vs third-person

While Japanese does technically have gendered third person pronouns （彼、彼女） they are used infrequently¹ and have much less cultural importance placed on them than English third person pronouns. Therefore, I would argue that the cultural equivalent of the gender-signifying third-person pronoun in English is the Japanese first-person pronoun. Much like English “pronouns in bio”, Japanese first-person pronoun choice is considered an expression of identity.

Japanese pronouns are used exclusively to refer to yourself, and therefore a speaker can change the pronoun they’re using for themself on a whim, sometimes mid-conversation, without it being much of an incident. Meanwhile in English, Marquis Bey argues that “Pronouns are like tiny vessels of verification that others are picking up what you are putting down” (2021). By having others use them and externally verify the internal truth of one’s gender, English pronouns, I believe, are seen as more truthful, less frivolous, than Japanese pronouns. They are seen as signifying an objective truth of the referent’s gender; if not objective then at least socially agreed-upon, while Japanese pronouns only signify how the subject feels at this particular moment — purely subjective.

Part 2: Context dependent pronoun use

Japanese speakers often don’t use just one pronoun. As you can see in the below chart, a young man using 俺 (ore) among friends might use 私 (watashi) or 自分 (jibun) when speaking to a teacher. This complicates the idea that these pronouns are gendered, because their gendering depends heavily on context. A man using 私 (watashi) to a teacher is gender-conforming, a man using 私 (watashi) while drinking with friends is gender-non-conforming. Again, this reinforces the relative instability of Japanese pronoun choice, and distances it from gender.

Part 3: Signifying more than gender

English pronouns signify little besides the gender of the antecedent. Because of this, pronouns in English have come to be a shorthand for expressing one’s own gender experience - they reflect an internal gendered truth. However, Japanese pronoun choice doesn’t reflect an “internal truth” of gender. It can signify multiple aspects of your self - gender, sexuality, personality.

For example, 僕 (boku) is used by gay men to communicate that they are bottoms, contrasted with the use of 俺 (ore) by tops. 僕 (boku) may also be used by softer, academic men and boys (in casual contexts - note that many men use 僕 (boku) in more formal contexts) as a personality signifier - maybe to communicate something as simplistic as “I’m not the kind of guy who’s into sports.” 俺 (ore) could be used by a butch lesbian who still strongly identifies as a woman, in order to signify sexuality and an assertive personality. 私 (watashi) may be used by people of all genders to convey professionalism. The list goes on.

I believe this is what’s happening with Utena - she is signifying her rebellion against traditional feminine gender roles with her use of 僕 (boku), but as part of this rebellion, she necessarily must still be a girl. Rather than saying “girls don’t use boku, so I’m not a girl”, her pronoun choice is saying “your conception of femininity is bullshit, girls can use boku too”.

Through translation, gendered assumptions need to be made, sometimes about real people. Remember that he/they, she/her, they/them are purely English linguistic constructs, and don’t correspond directly to one’s gender, just as they don’t correspond directly to the Japanese pronouns one might use. Imagine a scenario where you are translating a news story about a Japanese genderqueer person. The most ethical way to determine what pronouns they would prefer would be to get in contact with them and ask them, right? But what if they don’t speak English? Are you going to have to teach them English, and the nuances of English pronoun choice, before you can translate the piece? That would be ridiculous! It’s simply not a viable option². So you must make a gendered assumption based on all the factors - their Japanese pronoun use (context dependent!), their clothing, the way they present their body, their speech patterns, etc.

If translation is about rewriting the text as if it were originally in the target language, you must also rewrite the gender of those people and characters in the translation. The question you must ask yourself is: How does their gender presentation, which has been tailored to a Japanese-language understanding of gender, correspond to an equivalent English-language understanding of gender? This is an incredibly fraught decision, but nonetheless a necessary one. It’s an unsatisfying dilemma, and one that poignantly exposes the fickle, unstable, culture-dependent nature of gender.

Notes and References

¹ Usually in Japanese, speakers use the person’s name directly to address someone in second or third person

² And has colonialist undertones as a solution if you ask me - “You need to pick English pronouns! You ought to understand your gender through our language!”

Bey, Marquis— 2021 Re: [No Subject]—On Nonbinary Gender

Rose divider taken from this post

#langblr #japanese #japanese language #language #language learning #linguistics #learning japanese #utena #revolutionary girl utena #shojo kakumei utena #rgu #sku #gender #transgender #nonbinary #trans #official blog post #translation #media analysis

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pupuyvs · 2 months ago

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Race of Your Life

pairing: sophia laforteza x fem!reader

wc: 5k+

warnings: car accident???? its in f1 though so..

a/n this is a req which can be seen here and here, sorry anon for how long this took 😅 anyways i may further this universe we’ll see though 🫣 ps. this is inspired by romain grosjean crash at 2020 bahrain grand prix (dw no one died he actually got away with burns on his hands and sprained ankle) so if ur curious as to what everyone wouldve seen u can search it up (its not graphic so again dw)

Formula 1. A sport known for its riches, flashiness, and speed; all aspects that pulled you in.

You were ten when you went to your first grand prix, the seats terrible due to them being a bonus given to your dad by his company, but you didn’t let that hinder you. Hearing the sounds of the cars as they raced by, the crowd cheering, feeling adrenaline as the cars came close to each other — you were hooked.

Your parents were hesitant when you showed interest, karting was expensive, and well, you were a girl. But you were determined, telling them you would die if you couldn’t do it, you regard this memory as being very dramatic, but it worked. Your father, clearly exasperated by said dramatics, made a deal with you, he’d help you in karting, but you couldn’t quit, no matter what. And being the stubborn ten year old you were, you agreed.

And thus you started.

The first year was the hardest, girls weren’t the most common in karting, add on to the fact you weren’t rich it was like you practically had a sign on your back saying, “pick on me!” But you didn’t care, you were there for one thing and one thing only, racing. While your parents fought for you verbally, you fought on the track.

You found yourself more often than not on the podium, losing was not something you could afford.

As the trophies racked up so did the respect, arguments were hard to have when you couldn’t back it up when it came down to it. And it continued this way as the years went by, karting turned into Formula 4, then 3, then 2, and it stayed that way for a while.

Women hadn’t made their break into Formula 1 yet, you were good, but it seemed not good enough for them. You watched as your friends began to make their transition into the top of the league, and you were happy for them, but it was also bitter to watch them get chances that you couldn’t afford yet.

Until 2021.

Mclaren had just released their driver line up for a younger, newer lineup for the 2022 season. Your longtime friend Oscar got called up first, you were happy for him, he was one of the few people in karting who was kind to you, so to see him awarded for his talent you couldn’t be happier. But you didn’t know that Mclaren didn’t just want Oscar, no, they wanted to be first in everything, not only racing.

Your signing made headlines everywhere making Mclaren happy, especially with the word “history” attached to their name. But with this came pressure, a huge amount of it too.

Your first season was much like your first year in karting — rough. The drivers are kinder this time around, well most of them, it’s the garage this time. You were iced out from most of your team, aside from the team managers and Oscar most of the team didn’t want you there.

That wasn’t the top of your worries though, sure it sucked, but you had bigger issues.

A drivers car is essentially a part of them, an extension of them if you will, they can only drive as well as their car runs, and your car did not want to work with you.

You knew it wasn’t because of the team, they would never purposely sabotage you, winning was more important to them than anything else.

It was hard on you going from top of the grid, podiums a normalcy, to being in the back of the pack. What used to be single digit placements became double digits with a swiftness, with each result you could feel your seat being taken from you, you needed a win.

The Italian Grand Prix was famous for its long straights, practically begging for speed. It was one of the later races in the season, a race meant for grabbing points to cement your position in the driver’s cup or the team cup. But it wasn’t just that for you, there was talks about replacing you if you didn’t give results soon, and you couldn’t allow that.

You were starting in fifteenth place, not an uncommon place for you, and you had to get at least in the top ten if you wanted even a chance of being considered to stay. Adrenaline coursed through you as the lights turned off and the race began. It was a battle for places in the first turn as always, and you luckily succeeded in snatching two leaving you now in thirteenth place, a good spot but you needed more. And it seemed your car understood that too.

For the first time that season you felt like you were back to your old self. The joy you felt as you passed car after car was euphoric after months of not having it.

The race ended with you seventh place, but it might as well have been first to you. An eight position climb was uncommon and hard to accomplish, but you somehow had done it and your team was ecstatic. Your career only went up from here, no longer were you in the bottom, you had found yourself back in the top, not quite podium but it didn’t matter you were still scoring points for your team.

At the end of the season you and Oscar ended up in the top ten for the drivers cup, and were re-signed immediately.

But as the new year rolled around you felt something was missing.

The 2023 race season started off strong, the team had worked vigorously on the car and your team was faster than ever. Now instead of finishing in just the top ten you often found yourself in the top five, which should’ve made you happy, but something was off and you wouldn’t know what it was until Miami.

Celebrities weren’t an uncommon sight in Formula 1. The glitz and glam of it practically called to them like a siren song. Hence why when Katseye's schedule had coincided with the Miami grand prix Hybe had immediately sent them.

The company had gone all out getting them all access passes, anything for promotion they had stated.

The tour around the paddocks was fun, even with the cameras in their face due to content being filmed. But of course something had to go wrong.

Sophia wouldn’t say she had a terrible sense of direction, just not the most perfect. And truly it wasn’t her fault!

She had stepped away to get a closer look at one of the cars, and when she turned around her group was missing.

The leader part of her would’ve asked for help, after all it’s the responsible and smart thing to do, but the new idol side of her didn’t want to be a burden so she decided she’d find her members herself.

It wasn’t the smartest idea, and she’ll admit it each time she looks back on it. This sport comes down to milliseconds at times, each team making changes to beat the others, so none of them will take kindly to a random person walking around.

As one of the employees of the team yelled accusations at her, Sophia only had one thought she was getting fired. That is until you showed up.

Sophia will always say she found you charming when she first laid eyes on you. Your voice, your calming smile and the way you lightly grabbed onto her wrist to guide her away, everything about you was just charming.

When you finally reached a seemingly neutral spot you let go of her wrist and turned to her, a soft smile on your lips.

“I’m assuming you’re part of that girl group touring today?” The question shocked Sophia, she hadn’t expected any of the racers to know about them.

“Yes, and I swear I wasn’t trying to steal anything or spy or whatever else that man said. I truly got lost. I didn't mean any harm or anything like that, me and my group are good peopl-” You cut her off with a laugh and a shake of your head.

“Calm down, I know,” you told her, “I doubt other teams are using singers to spy.” You hold your hand out for her to shake.

“I’m Y-” It’s her turn to cut you off.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I think I’d be crazy not to know who you are.”

And it was true, you were a sought after prospect due to just how much of a commercial success you were. After the Italian race the endorsements practically came running in which Mclaren praised, their name attached to such big names did nothing but raise their stocks and publicity, it also helped their sales skyrocket since more and more women were buying their cars. With all these positives teams were practically foaming at the mouth to sign you and your publicity.

You laughed shyly at her response, “Right.” You said as you rubbed the back of your neck. You cleared your throat once the red in your ears disappeared.

“What’s you and your group's name?” Sophia gasped at the question, feigning offense. She laughed as you panicked rushing to apologize. Sophia stopped you before you could ramble.

“I’m just joking with you,” she started, “I wouldn’t expect you to know us just yet, we’re pretty much in that stage before debuting.” You sighed out in relief at her words, nodding in understanding.

Sophia realized she still hadn’t said her name, “I’m Sophia, the leader of Katseye.”

She cringed slightly at the clear training that was drilled into her. And you noticed it too as you struggled to not laugh.

“Well Sophia, leader of Katseye,” the playfulness is clear in your voice, “Where is the group you are currently leading?”

She rolled her eyes at the clear teasing, before she realized she had no idea where her members nor staff were.

“I…actually don’t know.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Well, did they mention where they were going next?”

She stops to think about the schedule the guide had told them, furrowing her brows, “Mercedes?” You groaned at her words, which had worried her.

“Did I say something wrong,” she asked.

You quickly shook your head, “No, it’s just it will be a bit difficult to bring you given..” you trailed off as you raised your hand to point to your team logo on your shirt.

She nodded in understanding however before she could offer to leave you alone and somehow find her own way, you spoke once more.

“I’ll just have to bring you just outside their garage, so I don’t get encaptured in rumors of cheating and conspiracy and all that.” You stopped with a laugh at just how ridiculous it was.

“Okay, but are you sure?”

You nodded, “I am. Come on.”

As you two walked, you found yourselves falling into a natural conversation. She told you about the show her group formed from, which you promise to watch later, and you told her about the first race you won.

It was the happiest you had felt in awhile, it’s there you realized what was missing.

So when you had reached your stop you found yourself struggling to say goodbye. What you hadn’t known was Sophia was struggling too.

“Thanks for walking me,” she finally said, breaking the silence you both created to avoid it ending.

“Yeah of course, it was fun.”

“Really,” she asked while raising an eyebrow. You nodded, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

“Well,” she trailed, clearly trying to buy time, “I should go in and find my members.”

She waited for you to say something, and when you didn’t she frowned believing she had read the whole situation wrong. When she turned to walk away though, you called for her.

“Can I have your number?”

Sophia stopped, silent as she felt relieved by not being wrong. However, her silence gets read wrong by you and you beat yourself up for possibly having overstepped.

“I don’t have my phone on me right now, you know filming and stuff, but if you give me your phone I can put my number in and you text me, when I get my phone back I can text you back.” You nodded and handed your phone to her, quite desperately too. As she entered her number her members walked out of the Mercedes area, and practically screamed when they saw you and her.

You jumped as they barrelled towards the two of you.

“Hi, you’re Y/N, right?” Lara asked you. You nodded with a small smile.

“You must be the Katseye members.” The girls all started to freak out as they realized you knew them. You laughed as you accepted your phone back from Sophia, which garnered the attention of Daniela, but she stayed silent as she remembered that there were cameras around.

And she wasn’t the only one that remembered the cameras as the girls’ managers came forward, “Would it be okay if we took a picture and you guys filmed a quick video together?”

You hesitated, “My manager isn’t around,” you watched as Sophia pouted slightly and immediately changed your mind, “But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

And based on the girls’ reactions you know you had said the right thing. After taking a picture with them and recording a video saying people should check them out, you said goodbye to them, sending Sophia one last smile.

You and Sophia started talking frequently after this day, messaging each other whenever you could. You asked her out on race day, seeing it as the best time since her and her group would be leaving the next day.

She had said yes immediately, and so after the race instead of attending the usual party you had raced over to your hotel to get ready.

When you had arrived at her hotel she hesitated when she saw your car, her friends had warned her to be careful with you, racers didn’t have the best reputation for dating. It hadn’t helped your case when you showed up in a clearly expensive and flashy car.

She pushed the warnings to the side when she saw you leaned against your car, a gift bag in hand and a shy smile.

Her members, who had followed her under the guise of safety, though she knew it was out of pure nosiness, all rushed to get a closer look at the car. The rushing clearly shocked you as you jumped, she laughed when you looked at her for help.

When she hadn’t moved you instead moved away from your car, which was now being opened by Megan and Yoonchae, who screamed when the door went up instead of out. You stopped just in front of her and took in her beauty, a smile had automatically found its way on your face.

“You look stunning,” you had breathed out. You blushed when you noticed she had heard you. You cleared your throat to fight the blush that fought its way to your face.

Sophia jumped when you held up a small gift bag in her face. Shock had crossed her face when she opened a jewelry box and found a diamond bracelet in it.

“I hope that’s okay,” you said. “My manager and the lady at the store said it was a perfect gift for the first date.”

Sophia could only scoff in disbelief, “They said diamonds are great for a first date?”

You nodded, but quickly shook your head when you had seen the look on her first. “I knew it was stupid, I should’ve got the necklace, if you want I can take it back and get it traded.”

However when you tried to grab the bag Sophia had immediately pulled it back, “I never said it was bad, just surprised. Thank you.”

You nodded once more before you gestured towards your car, which her members had been taking pictures in, “Ready to go?”

She simply nodded and you both entered the car, after saying goodbye to her members and promising Daniela that she could drive it one time.

You had taken her to an expensive steakhouse that resided along South Beach. It was awkward at first, you being nervous and her trying to figure out if this was all a ploy to feed your ego.

It wasn’t until she spilled her wine on your shirt trying to hand the menu to the waiter did the awkwardness finally stop. You laughed as she tried to wipe your shirt with a napkin, a dried one at that, and reassured her that it was fine, because truly you liked her so much it didn’t bother you even a bit.

You had stopped laughing when you noticed she was truly panicked, you lifted your hand and lightly grabbed hers and reassured her once again that it was okay.

When she noticed you were serious she calmed, and your dinner finished without a hitch. After dropping off the five extra meals you had bought for her members at your car you both walked along the beachfront and enjoyed the business of the nightlife.

You two talked about nothing and everything until her manager texted her telling it was time to come back.

This date marked the beginning of what would be your two’s relationship. It was rough at first, with you traveling so often due to races, facetime had been essentially a third in your relationship.

However, you didn’t let the distance hinder you guys, as you had bought a house close to the group’s apartment and had visited her every break they had given you.

Which led you guys to where you are now.

“God I don’t know how you guys don’t get lost here, this place is huge,” Manon says as she places the snacks she bought on the table. She doesn’t receive a response as all the other members rush to get their favorite snacks first, the slight chaos makes your parents laugh.

It’s an action that would’ve gotten them scolded by Sophia but she was too busy eyeing the door to the room.

It wasn’t often Sophia could come to your races, being an idol in her first year meant she was busier than ever, but any time she did get to go she was always a nervous wreck, only being calmed when she would see you before you went down to the grid.

When she saw the door knob move she immediately stood, running when she realized it was you. She jumped on you leaving you to drop your bottle of water to catch her.

“Happy to see you too baby,” you whisper in her ear. She responds by tightening her hold on you.

You laugh as you move to put her down, though she latches onto you still. She had an extremely bad feeling since this morning and it made her not want to let go of you.

You moved her to your side and wrapped one of your hands around her waist, while she kept both of her arms circled around yours.

You both walked over to where the rest were standing, Sophia moving so you can greet your parents and her members, and when you finished she went back to her previous spot by your side.

“You excited? Only two more races after this then you’re off,” your father asks.

You shake your head, “I’m more so nervous.” Sophia perks when she hears that.

“Why?” She feels you jump slightly at her intrusion, not expecting a voice to come from her direction.

“Just not used to the track and its turns yet.” Your dad comes beside you and pats the shoulder Sophia is not currently resting her head on.

“You did great during practice and quali, I mean you’re starting fifth.”

You nod your head at your dad’s words, “Yeah, it’s probably just preracing jitters.”

The room door opens again and in steps one of your team members. “Hey, Y/N, it’s time to get ready.”

“Alright.” You turn to your parents first, Sophia stepping away momentarily, but she stays near watching you. You hugged your dad first and then your mother, who pressed a quick kiss to your head. Each member wishes you luck, Yoonchae even showing you the sign she made you with Megan and Manon, which made you laugh and thank them.

Everyone in the room moves back to let you and Sophia say your goodbyes.

“Hey,” you say as you lift her head, “You okay? You’ve been very quiet.”

She tightens her grip slightly. “Just…anxious.”

You smiled at her to reassure her, when you still see the fear in her eyes you lean down and give her a peck. You feel her ease slightly, “Everything will be okay. I’m gonna win and then come back up here with the trophy and you and the girls can sign it.”

She nods, but you can still see the hesitation, “Baby-”

You're cut off by the staff coming back again, motioning that it’s seriously time to go. You sigh before looking back at Sophia.

“I have to go now, It’ll be over before you know it.” You kiss her once more and she tries to pull you closer, but you pull away much to her dismay.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She makes sure to say back, the bad feeling in her is overwhelming at this point. And when you walk out with one final wave, she finds herself struggling not to cry.

“Hey, you good?” Manon asks her, concern clear in her voice. She nods and when she turns back she sees everyone else also looking at her with worry. A blush raises on her face due to embarrassment.

“Just nervous, that’s all.” Manon nods, she clearly doesn’t believe her but drops it for her sake.

Down in the garage you fasten your helmet, assuring that it's tight on your head before lowering yourself into your car. One of the engineers taps the top of the helmet and holds his thumb up and you respond by putting yours up too.

You feel them lift the car and begin to bring it to the grid.

You hear your team manager’s voice come alive on the radio in your helmet, “Y/N do you copy?”

“Yup, all clear.”

You and him check through everything ensuring the car is ready as your crew take care of the outside.

“Alright, the grid is clearing for formation lap, try to warm the tires as much as possible, they’re a little cold today.”

“Alright.” The grid clears and the formation lap starts, you feel the car stall at certain points, but your team manager assures you it’s nothing too serious, and it’ll go away during the race.

The lap ends and everyone takes their spots. The silence that falls over the grid before the start of a race is peaceful. You breathe in before bringing your hand to where your lips would be and press it against the number printed on your helmet, 31, representative of Sophia’s birthday.

As the lights lit up you held your breath, your heart pounding against your chest loudly, the hum of your car coursing through your body. And then the lights shut off.

Accidents weren’t an uncommon occurrence in Formula One, drivers crashed regularly. But none to this level.

It started off fine, you made the first turn perfectly fine, but when you went into the second your car stalled and you went straight into the wall. It would’ve been fine, if it wasn’t for the fire.

Sophia swears she’ll never get your mother’s screams out of her head. She feels the air get sucked out of her body as she falls to her knees, someone comes to her side almost immediately, and by the coldness of their hands she can tell it's Daniela.

She hears her saying something, but she can’t process them, all she can think about is the fact you’re still in that car. She watches as medical people try to get close, but the fire is even too hot for them, and Sophia doesn’t want to think about what that could mean for you.

Time seems to go slowly, though it’s probably only been fifteen seconds it feels like years as red flags go out on the track, an ambulance now racing onto the track.

Sobs fill the room as each second goes by, and Sophia thinks she’s going to throw up.

Until Lara yells.

It almost seems fake at first, a hand bursting out from flames, but then another follows. And suddenly you’re out of it, two medical personnels grabbing onto you as you shake your hands, others spraying you and the fire with some sort of chemical. You limp your way to the ambulance as cheers erupt from the circuit, but Sophia doesn’t pay them attention as she’s already running out of the room to somehow find you.

She hears Daniela call for her, but she doesn’t listen, her entire being is out of place and it’ll only be fixed if she sees you. But before she can run onto the track cold hands grab her, and she curses Daniela’s unbelievable stamina.

“Sophia-” Daniela cuts herself off when she sees the look on Sophia’s face. It’s clear to her instantly that Sophia isn’t mentally there with them anymore, she won’t stop repeating the same phrase between quick breaths, borderline hyperventilating.

“I need to see her.” She repeats for what must’ve been the hundredth time and Daniela knows she’ll probably repeat it until she sees you. She knew before she did anything else she needed to calm Sophia down, so she brought her into a hug.

Sophia tenses at first, and Daniela can’t help but compare her to a feral animal as she herself tenses for any reaction may come. But to her relief, Sophia sobs, the sounds of them breaking her heart.

“It’s okay, she’s okay.” Daniela repeats this phrase like a prayer as she rubs Sophia’s back. After a while Sophia finally calms enough to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Daniela immediately shakes her head, “Don’t be. You alright?”

Sophia shakes her head, “No, but I will be when I see her.”

Daniela nods and pulls away from Sophia, her shirt now with a clear wet spot on it, but she doesn’t mention it as she grabs Sophia’s hand.

“Let’s go find out what hospital she’s in and go.” Sophia simply nods as they go back to the room. When they enter the members all rush to them, but when Manon sees how distraught Sophia is she pulls the others back, which Daniela thanks with a nod.

“Where are her parents,” Sophia asks once she finally gathers the courage to look up.

“They went to the hospital, they wanted to wait for you, but…” Lara naturally trails off and Sophia nods.

“Did they say which hospital?”

“Yeah,” Lara starts, “Mercy.”

Daniela pulls out her keys and lifts them up, “Let’s get going.”

They all go to Daniela’s car, Sophia sits in the front as the others squish in the back, none of them bothering to complain. Daniela puts the address on her phone and immediately takes off, her speed possibly comparable to one of a racer.

When they make it to the hospital Daniela barely gets to stop when Sophia jumps out, refusing to waste any more time away from you. Your dad seemed to have been waiting for her arrival as she barely even gets to the front desk when he calls for her.

“Where’s your members?” He asks. And on cue the other five come rushing in, racing to them immediately.

“Perfect, come on she’s on the fifth floor, they got her a room already.” The elevator ride is quiet aside from the dreadfully happy music and Sophia’s constant shuffling. When the door opens she has to remind herself she just can’t rush past your dad and she has to be patient, you having a room meant a good thing.

And it was as they got closer she could hear you and your mom arguing.

“I don’t want this cast!”

“You broke your ankle, it doesn’t matter what you want!”

And Sophia would have laughed if she wasn’t so tense, when they make their way inside your mother and you turn towards them, your eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

It quiets as everyone takes you in, no one moving. That is until Yoonchae runs and practically jumps on you.

“Yoonchae!” Manon yells going to pull her off of you, but you hold your non wrapped hand up. When Manon stops in her tracks you hug Yoonchae back and Sophia realizes that Yoonchae is crying.

You were close with all the members of Katseye, but it wasn’t a secret that outside of Sophia, Yoonchae was the one you were the closest with. Growing up as an only child you always wanted a sibling so when you met Yoonchae she naturally took that position.

She pulls away sniffling, “You scared me!”

You pout at her, as you use your hand to wipe away a tear. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head before hugging you once more, this one more careful.

“Are you okay,” Megan asks, speaking for the first, and based on the fear lacing her voice Sophia can tell she wasn’t silent by choice.

“Yup, just some minor burns on my fingers, sprained wrist, a broken ankle and probably a ton of bruises.” You finish your list off with a laugh, but quickly silence yourself when no one else does.

“Geez, it’s like someone died.” You thought you had muttered it low enough that no one could hear you, but the slap on your thigh from your mother tells you otherwise.

“Don’t joke like that.”

You raise both hands in surrender before turning your stare to your girlfriend who looks like she’s about to break down.

“Hey guys can you give me and Sophia a couple minutes?” The question causes everyone to stare at the girl and at the way she looks they all agree. When the door closes you try to sit up, wincing slightly from a not yet formed bruise.

At the sight of you in pain Sophia immediately rushes to your side, “Are you okay?”

You nod before pulling her to you. The slight force of being pulled causes her to sit on the edge of your bed as you hug her.

You can feel her trying to pull away and tighten your hold. After a couple more failed attempts she gives up and lets you hold her. She closes her eyes as she listens to your heartbeat, her body calming more and more with each beat.

Tears begin to well up in her eyes as the thought of almost never experiencing your warmth again crosses her mind.

When the first drop hits your hospital gown you look down at her.

“Baby…”

And the dam breaks.

Her sobs break your heart, pain coursing through you as she pulls on your shirt when she clenches it in her hands, but you don’t mind. You place kisses on her head until she calms down and then tell her to look at you.

When she does, you offer her a smile, “Hi beautiful.” You laugh at the blush that rushes to her cheeks, placing a small kiss on one of them.

You let her calm down before speaking once more, “Feeling better?”

She nods slightly, because truthfully she does feel better, but fear still courses through her veins. “I almost lost you today.”

You hum as you rake your fingers through her hair, the feeling of it light due to the numbness of your fingers. You inhale the scent of lavender as you close your eyes, a bright orange slowly fills in the blackness and your eyes shoot open once more. The quickening of your heart causes Sophia to pull away to look away.

“I’m okay,” you quickly say. Before she can question the hospital door opens.

“Sorry, just the doctor here.” You nod at Lara and Sophia stands. The rest of them walk in with the doctor following right behind.

The doctor goes through her regular checkup, when she finishes she turns and jumps when she is met with everyone staring at her expectantly.

She clears her throat. “Right, Y/N seems to be well given everything. We are going to keep her overnight for observation, but other than the obvious, she will be perfectly good to go home tomorrow.”

The doctor jumps once more as the group, sans Sophia, exclaims. When she leaves the girls all take turns writing on your cast with a couple of pens your mother found in her purse. The hospital room becomes even more livelier when your teammate Oscar shows up. Though loud it puts your mind to ease.

They all stay until visitor hours end, the nurse revealing only one person was allowed to stay with you. Your mother and Sophia argued about who should stay, both believing the other should.

Your mother ultimately wins by stating she has to use the hotel room she paid for. You both know it’s a lie, you have never made your parents pay for a hotel for any of the races they have attended, but before either of you can tell her that she pulls your father out the room and leaves.

Sophia stands to the side as a nurse readies the cot for her and does a final check on you. When she walks out you call Sophia’s name, when she’s close enough you pull her into the space you made when she wasn’t looking.

She freezes at first, but before she can move you speak. “Don’t move, just let me hold you.” You can tell she’s hesitant, but after a few moments she laxes in your hold.

A silence falls between you two, her listening to your breathing and you enjoying the heat from her skin.

“You know,” you start, “There was a moment in there I thought I wouldn’t make it.” You pause for a second to take a breath and her grip on you tightens.

“I felt the heat, and saw how it was all around me and I just accepted it. I closed my eyes and thought ‘Well, at least I had a good life.’ But then I heard the noise of Mario Kart.”

You both laugh at the absurdity of it, and you close your eyes to take in the sound of hers, you always loved how it sounded. When she calms you continue.

“As crazy as it sounds, it was that sound that brought me back to being with you, and of course your members. But the thought of leaving you, of possibly not being by your side anymore immediately made me want to fight to live.”

You look down to find her looking at you which causes you to smile, though you’re not sure she sees it due to the darkness, but you don’t mind as you bring your hand up to her face and caress it.

“I tell you this because I want you to know how much I love you. You are my world, Soph. As long as you’ll have me I’ll never leave your side.” She doesn’t respond as she pulls you into a kiss, it’s a bit of a mess due to both of your limited views, but it doesn’t bother either of you.

She pulls away, but you peck her lips once more and lean your forehead on hers.

“I love you,” she whispers, “Don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

And you meant it, you would always be by her side.

#sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye #katseye imagines #katseye x reader #katseye x y/n #fem reader #🧸writes #royl

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shoezuki · 4 months ago

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hi hello so for any people curious bout the dream beef i am talking about im gon chronicle it all here in a hopefully fully contextual way for both longterm weirdos and new people who dont know bout my parasocial beef w dream. ill try to keep my biases out of it somewhat but anyways,

this began with a podcast Tommyinnit and Jack Manifold have together in which they had philza as a guest. Episode 9 is currently behind a paywall on their patreon but they have a youtube channel where they post them publically as well. Not sure if they make all their episodes public eventually or not but i digress.

Twitter user _constel_ has posted 5 clips from the podcast in question that contain their discussion about dream. I have downloaded the videos but tumblr doesnt want me to put them in this post so i will try and sum up each clip as I go.

Clip 1: Phil starts talking about how once the dsmp was done people would joke about how their 'contracts' would be over and they would be allowed to talk about things behind the scenes. philza mentions the infamous philza tweet in response to dream.

for context, the main discussion is around this exchange from around february 2021, where dream 'jokingly' argues that he is responsible to tommy's high viewership on youtube:

Most of it the tweets are deleted by both parties but it was very much a whole thing. Phil has apparently joked about revealing the context of his reply 'when he retires' (mentioned clip 1).

Jack Manifold had apparently been in a call with tommyinnit when the exchange was happening and recalls tommy being extremely stressed. The context philza gives is that he was texted by tommy to look at the thread while he was going on a walk and tommy was panicking over if dream was genuine (mentioned clip 2). Philza says "I'll find out if he's fucking joking' and that he essentially vibe checked dream. Tommy also states that after the twitter exchange he legitimately wrote in his diary to never be rude to dream: "never be horrible to dream. It's not worth it. It makes me too sad". Additionally jack manifold establishes that he hated dream from the beginning, they hate each other, and that, although he acknowledges dream aided him through the dream smp, he hates how dream 'takes ownership of other people and their accomplishments because he was a guiding hand' (mentioned clip 3).

Jack manifold mentions that tommy was 16 during this exchange and philza additionally says it was out of line (Clip 4). Philza more openly talks about there being 'reds flag after red flags' with dream in clip 5.

OKAY thats honestly a vague description and theres a LOT more so watch the clips if u want. Heres another tweet 'summarizing' it as well. But anyways this of course had people talking about dream again, some people (accidentally?) acting like this is about dream smp lore, and a lot of people concerned about how tommy was afraid to upset dream and would blame himself when dream picked fights with him.

Dream's response on dreamwastaken was to tweet about how he appreciated everyone who was on the server dispite differences, as well as a zip file to download the dsmp server/world file.

Worth noting there is a limitation on how many people can download the file within 24 hours so now people are only getting an error message when trying to access it which is fucking funny. On his private he also tweeted "love and appreciate you guys <3 very happy to be uploading again :) hope to keep it rolling" (Im not cropping out the reply its funny)

Thats all hes said so far, I havent seen tommy or jack manifold talking about it either. technically it isnt outright in response to their podcast but obviously everyone is taking it as such.

final stuff/my thoughts: dream has obviously had a tendency to kinda 'take credit' for 'making' the streamers who were on the dsmp and its notable that in his tweet he still acts like his server was the reason for people's fame and relationships. Saying 'a group of creators most of which would never have collaborated under any other circumstance got together and made something really cool' is just his thinly veiled way of still taking credit for tommy's fame and the relationships he and others have made and its moronic. Not to mention dsmp was very much NOT the server that got these specific people together, i mean techno and phil met through minecraft mondays, tommy and jack manifold met both of them through smp earth i believe. Even if the dsmp wasnt a thing they probably would have collaborated with other members through mcc eventually. the idea that the dsmp was what brought them together and a bunch of minecraft clowns would 'never have collaborated under any other circumstance' is stupid.

anyways sorry this is long as shit. im going to pray dream doesnt let this go for at least 3 to 5 business days as per usual

#fuckit im tagging things #dsmp #dream smp #jack manifold #tommyinnit #philza #dream hate #spent way too much time on this.#if more happens ill add it in rbs. might try n post the clips seperately too #philza says some goodass shit

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undying-love · 7 months ago

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Paul's grief over time: A Compilation

“During the session [in 1981] Paul fell into a lugubrious mood. He said, ‘I’ve just realized that John is gone. John’s gone. He’s dead and he is not coming back.’ And he looked completely dismayed, like shocked at something that had just hit him. ‘Well, it’s been a few weeks now.’ He said, ‘I know, Eric, but I’ve just realized." (Eric Stewart)

“It’s still weird even to say, ‘before he died’. I still can’t come to terms with that. I still don’t believe it. It’s like, you know, those dreams you have, where he’s alive; then you wake up and… 'Oh’.” (Paul, 1986)

"Occasionally, it wells up. Y'know, and I'm at home on the weekend suddenly and I start thinking about him or talking to the kids about him and I can't handle it." (Paul, 1987)

"Is there a record you like to put on just to hear John’s voice?" I ask Paul the next day. Paul looks startled. He fumbles. “Oh, uh. There’s so much of it. I hear it on the car radio when I’m driving.” No, that’s not what I mean", I persist. "Isn’t there a time when you just wish you could talk to John, when you’d like to hear his voice again?" For some reason, he instead responds to the original question.“Oh sure,” he says and looks a little taken aback. ‘Beautiful Boy". (1990)

"Also not obvious is that McCartney [for the Liverpool Oratorio] has penned a gorgeous black-spiritual-like piece for mezzo-soprano that intones the last words spoken to John Lennon as he lay dying of gunshot wounds in the back of a New York police car -- "Do you know who you are?" McCartney gets a bit choked up at one point when he reveals, "Not a day goes by when I don't think of John.” (1991)

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy. He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed." (Paul, 1995)

"Paul talked about John a a lot, but the strange thing was that it was in the present tense, “John says this" or "John thinks that. Very weird." (Peter Cox, 2006)

“John Lennon was shot dead in 1980. That totally knocked dad for six. I haven’t really spoken to him a lot about it because it is such a touchy subject." (James McCartney, 2013)

"It's very difficult for me and I, occasionally, will have thoughts and sort of say: "I don't know why I don't just break down crying every day? […] You know, I don't know how I would have dealt with it because I don't think I've dealt with it very well. In a way… I wouldn't be surprised if a psychiatrist would sort of find out that I'm slightly in denial, because it's too much." (Paul, 2020)

"Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can't get over the senseless act. I can't think about it. I'm sure it's some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it." (Paul, 2020)

"When I talked to Paul about John and when he missed John most, he couldn't answer me for a long time and his eyes teared up. And I asked him where he thinks about John and when John comes into his mind and he just … he lost it, he completely lost it." (Bob Spitz, 2021)

-------------------------------------------------

The following two are from the gossip website Datalounge, so they may or may not be true. Still interesting though:

"The one time I was ever actually in a room with Paul, zillion people between me and him (and no way I'm gonna bother him, all of us who travel in celeb circles have people we're fans of and all of us inexplicably try to hide it to seem "cooler"), he started talking loudly about himself and John, and how hard it was not to have him there. I remember him saying something along the lines of not a day passing that John's not still in it with him, but it's not like he can pick up a phone and say, "Hey, just needed to hear your voice today," and even when he got craggy responses, he still missed them. He misses it all, and it's bothering to him that he misses him more as time goes on -- it doesn't heal, he just learns new ways to bandage the wound."

“Since everyone is anonymous here, I guess I can give a bit of info I got from a female friend of mine who at one time worked as one of Paul’s assistants. [...] She does not know for certain if John and Paul were involved but she suspects it since to this day whenever John’s name is brought up he acts in her words ‘like a widow’ and he also addresses John in present tense. He would say things like, ‘John thinks that the music should be like this,’ and during his bitter divorce from Heather he was saying, ‘John says that this is getting nasty.’ Kind of creepy." (this one actually seems very intriguing because it sounds very similar to what Peter Cox said, about Paul often talking about John in the present tense, saying "John says.." or "John thinks...")

#mclennon #beatles #heartbreaking #💔#paul mccartney #compilation

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artbiter · 5 months ago

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wolf in sheep's clothing

art donaldson/reader nsfw summary: art falls for you first yet patrick gets the fortune of having you. what else is art supposed to do but play dirty? tags: stanford!art, stanford reader too, art is a borderline homewrecker, art donaldson is a SNAKE, patrick gets cucked right under his nose </3, oral, slight body worship, TBH idk note: hi this is my first time writing ff since .. 2021 .. and this is definitely a diff style from the ao3-approach i usually take to writing but please enjoy i really like art donaldson i really like challengers and i really like art taking what he wants (and i really like mike faist in blonde curls)

art donaldson is not a homewrecker, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for his chance with you.

he first meets you at one of his games, eyes flitting over the crowd and panting hard after a rather close singles win, before his gaze is magnetically drawn to your pretty face in the bleachers. smiling with your friends, you look so happy to just be watching this game, and when you make eye contact with art you wave excitedly like he's a celebrity, and whisper to your friends after he salutes back with a grin, trying to catch the breath your gorgeous smile has knocked out of him.

he wants to find you so bad after, and so he does. your friends are tennis groupies, hanging behind to flirt with any guy with a racket in hand, but you're just there for moral support. he chases after you just before you leave, just to say hi. an innocuous greeting and thanks for your support. and he sees how jealous your friends are that you tag along once with them and immediately get picked up by art freaking donaldson, but you seem to be oblivious, beaming at him and clasping your hands to your chest. you tell him he was great out there, that you've never "gotten" tennis but that you can feel he's a pro anyway. you part ways and he can't stop thinking about you.

when he tells patrick that he's met the prettiest girl he's ever seen at one of his matches, patrick thinks it's endearing and the epitome of dumb puppy love.

"did you even get her name? or were you just drooling over her?"

"nah, that would've been weird... right? oh shit, should i have? i was trying to be normal about it, i don't know." art beats himself up for not even picking up on your name in conversation, and resolves to seek out your identity and ask you out.

so when he finally has the fortune of seeing you again at a party, he's heartbroken when you smile and wave to patrick in tow.

"patrick!" you laugh and bound up to the pair. "didn't take you as a stanford party type of guy."

"i'm a plus one tonight. lucky i ran into you, huh?" patrick is eye-fucking you and doesn't even try to hide it, and art feels like doubling over in pure grief.

patrick notices but says nothing, only introducing you to art. "yeah, i'm here with my buddy art." he slaps art on the back lightly and art finds out that you and patrick met at another party before this. he remembers you from patrick's anecdotes over lunch, where patrick wouldn't shut up about the hottest chick he's ever seen who wouldn't go home with him, but has been texting ever since.

some other girl, presumably one of your friends, attaches herself to art's arm for the rest of the night, but he can't bring himself to notice or care when patrick kisses you and you lean into it.

patrick got to you first, and art hates himself for it. he won't admit it, but he feels the resentment festering inside of him as soon as patrick announces it's official.

the next best course of action for art is to play the best friend role, obviously. except like the unassuming snake art is, he's going to be your best friend, too.

he's your puppy, waiting on your beck and call — whatever you need, he's got it. your bio homework is impossible? sure, you can copy his. you got no sleep last night? he has your regular order from your favorite café committed to memory. patrick's being such a bad boyfriend? oh, tell him all about it.

"he's so inconsiderate," you whine, slumping over your pillow. "can you believe he forgot our six months? and when i brought it up, he didn't even say sorry. he was just, like, 'i didn't know we were still in high school.' i wanted to die, art, really."

art clicks his tongue in sympathy, criss-crossed on your dorm floor and nodding along to your laments. "no, he's definitely wrong here. i'm sorry he forgot something so important." for good measure, he adds in, "guys should be looking out for their girlfriends all the time. i'd be celebrating monthly anniversaries if i had a girl."

"ugh, right? i thought so, too." you flop back onto your bed, turning your head to gaze at art. he thinks you're so beautiful like this, clad in a t-shirt and shorts, bare faced with tears tinging your eyes. "you're a good guy. i don't know why you don't just date."

he doesn't want to date anyone if it isn't you, but he doesn't say this.

art watches you and patrick continue for another few rocky months, marked by arguments spawned from patrick's chronic nonchalance and your sensitivity to his perceived lack of care. and art gets the full report from both sides; patrick tells him all the time about how he's really trying to make you happy and support you, but he doesn't see why you value such small things. and you cry to art, sobbing that patrick never takes you out anymore if it isn't to fuck, that patrick is too friendly to other girls. art thinks to himself that patrick doesn't deserve you, but he rubs small circles on your back and reassures you that you need to do what's right for yourself.

(he's elated when you don't remove yourself from his touch.)

when you finally break it off with patrick, he hears it from his best friend first.

"dude, she dumped me." patrick's voice buzzes over the phone. "not gonna lie, i saw this one coming. but i thought i was doing good, seriously. fuck, what am i gonna do?"

"i'm sorry, man," art sympathizes before he hears a knock on his door. "yeah, it really does suck. take a breather for a few days. i'm sorry, but i really have to go right now." he peeks into the peephole and sees you standing outside. "let's talk more later?"

patrick is still rambling on the other end, but art hangs up and opens the door for you to immediately come spilling.

"art, i broke up with him. i really couldn't do it anymore." you tell art more things he already knows, like that you liked patrick a lot but you were just uncompatible in the end, and that you wished he listened. as always, art feeds into you, agreeing with your every word. something deep inside art tells him it's wrong to coax his best friend's girlfriend into breaking up with him, and that he's messed up for offering you his support when patrick technically should come first. but when you look up at art through wet eyelashes, sniffling and yearning for comfort, who is he to deny you?

art cups your face gently and presses his lips to yours. he doesn't miss how your eyes widen, but you don't jerk away. his heart pounds in his chest as he holds the small of your back with one hand while the other caresses your cheek. you smell so clean and warm, and your lips are so soft art wonders how patrick could ever give you up without a fight. it solidifies art's need for you, that if patrick won't make you happy, he will.

when you pull away from him, you're breathless, voice barely above a whisper. "art, i don't think we should—"

he can't contain himself from kissing your neck, relishing the soft, smooth expanse, inhaling your scent so deep into his lungs he finds it oxygen. "tell me you don't want this." he laps at your jaw, sucking light bruises onto the sides of your throat. "tell me you don't want me to treat you the way you should be, and i'll stop."

you moan his name involuntarily, and art takes it as the green light to carry you to his bed and kisses back up to your lips. "i'm sorry," he murmurs into your skin. "i'm sorry. i want you so bad."

"then show me," you sigh softly, hands rooting themselves into his blonde curls as his tongue probes your mouth.

like you even had to ask.

tugging down your sweatpants and feeling like coming just as the sight of your underwear, art immediately tears it off of you. he latches himself to your cunt, already weeping, and he looks up at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown wide. "already so wet for me, baby?"

"mmf..." your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tighten their grip as you push his head forward, and he obliges.

he licks wide stripes, feeling you convulse and twitch every time his tongue comes in contact with your clit. his dick throbs in his pants just from eating you out.

"you taste so sweet. fuck, you're delicious," he pants, making out with your pussy like it's your lips. "don't know how i survived this long without you."

you buck your hips up into his mouth, mewling and spasming as he suckles and licks at just the right places. your cunt is soaked, but neither of you can tell whether it's from your arousal or how much art is slobbering over your pussy. "right there," you squeak out, a hot wave washing over your body as you cum on art's face.

and fuck, art almosts busts on the spot with you. his mouth doesn't cease, swirling patterns all over your vulva, grazing over your clit, dipping his tongue inside of you as you lock your legs around his head desperately.

"too much, too much!" you feebly try to pull his head up from your cunt, but he's so addicted to your taste he barely notices how sensitive you are now, how your clit twitches and aches for a break.

art can only laugh softly as he pulls himself back up to you, kissing you gently as his hands roam underneath your shirt and to your bra clasp.

"mm, you're so good," you gasp into art's mouth as his kiss becomes sloppier. "so good to me, art."

"it's what you deserve," he mumbles back, unhooking your bra and clumsily pulling your shirt off so your tits spill free. and even art is admired by his own self-restraint, just staring at your perfect body on display for him. he's been dreaming of this day for months now, jerking himself off late at night to thoughts of you sucking his cock, to pictures of you smiling on his phone, to the memory of your voice the day he met you. it's so wrong of him to fuck his best friend's ex fresh after the split, but why do you feel so right beneath him? "i've been waiting for this," he whispers into your neck. "been wanting to show you how much i want you. want to make you feel good. want to treat you so much better."

"fuck me, art, please," you beg him, relenting and palming at his boxers. you're so fucking easy, letting him touch you like this and being compliant as he undresses you, kisses you all over, shrugs his boxers off as you help him position his cock right at your entrance. it's not your fault that art has been nothing but kind and gentle to you. it's not your fault that he's been flirting with you since day 1, and now all his desires have culminated into head of a lifetime. and art finally has what he wants now: you.

and even when he barely pushes the tip in, he wants to cum inside of you so badly he feels dizzy. "so fucking tight, i'm gonna cum, gonna cum right now," he gasps in your ear as he unsheathes himself, stretching your warm, tight hole. "so perfect, holy shit. fucking made for me, baby, you feel so—" he can't stop himself from rutting into you, and he just about comes undone when he hears his name tumble from your lips in pained moans. it takes all the self-control in the world for art to not pour himself into your wet heat right now.

"slow down, art, fuck, you're so big," you sob, clawing at his back. he wishes he could fuck you nice and slow, the way he always envisioned his first time with you would be. he'd fantasized about nights with you full of languid strokes, making you scream his name with calculated, intentional thrusts straight to the spongy patch buried within you. but art is just a humble man, and when your walls, silky and warm, are choking his dick, he can't resist fucking into you like a jackhammer. you cry, moaning uncontrollably as your hands clutch tightly at him, letting his cock ruin you.

art's head goes fuzzy, and all he knows now is your pussy trying to milk him dry and that he can't say anything coherent besides strings of guttural moans telling you how warm, how tight, how good you feel on his dick, how your sweet cunt was made for him, how beautiful you look and sound at his mercy, how he wants you to be his so bad and that he'll do anything for you to be his. that his only regret is not claiming you first.

you keep crooning in his ear, honeyed moans that intoxicate him dizzier and dizzier as you tell him that he can have you. with a few more stutters of his hips, and a convulsing squeeze from your walls onto his cock, his head falls into the crook of your neck as he pulls out and shoots ropes all over your stomach, right as you cry out his name uncontrllably, heaving beneath him. a low, resounding grunt rips from his throat while his seed paints your abdomen, and he feels you shiver upon the warmth touching your skin.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes again like the gentleman he is. his breath still heaves at an uneven rhythm, staggering as he attempts to regain his composure, but every time his eyes fall upon you it feels like he wants to go for round 2. "i'll clean you up, pretty girl. you were so perfect." he presses his forehead to yours, sweaty and damp, and whispers, "you were made for me."

some sick sense of pride fills art from head to toe as your body trembles in an attempt to catch your breath, your hair disheveled and lips puffy, patches of skin blooming pink and red from art essentially making out with every inch of your body. and you blush when you catch him staring, covering your face and murmuring for him to come back to bed.

he did this to you. he made you such a picturesque image of ruined perfection, splayed out on his bed and stained with his cum, pleading for his embrace.

patrick would have to pry you from his cold, dead hands.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #art donaldson x you #challengers smut #challengers x reader

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pullupinarari · 4 months ago

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Love you ‘til I don’t [LH]

author’s note: I’m finally back with full fics and I was so excited to write this one! Thank you to the anons who dropped these thoughts on my inbox 🫂 This is angsty, sad and has a sad ending. Ps: let’s please pretend that Abu Dhabi 2021 was actually last year, I didn’t wanted to write this with years apart 🙏🏻 hope you enjoy this!! Mwah 🩷

Read part two here!

• masterlist

wc: 3981 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

Anger, confusion, pain, doubt: Lewis’ mind has been a mess since the day he lost the opportunity to hold his 8th world title. That fateful day has changed him in some way: It has made him more cold, more thoughtful, questioning his life and all the decisions he has made so far, wondering if this is all worth it.

Being so close to winning, just to have the trophy almost yanked from his hands at the end of the last race, devastated him, and you know that. It felt like a hurricane hitting him, making him lose his senses, taking a toll on his confidence. Since that day, Lewis grew quiet, he stopped showing up at your door with flowers and a lovely smile spreading along his face, like he used to. From that moment, he would just rather be alone with his thoughts all the time, until they would devour his whole being, drowning his brain in destructive ideas.

In the three years that you’ve been dating, you have never seen him act this way. During the two month break after the end of the season, he wouldn’t leave his house, he wouldn’t pick up your calls. Whenever you showed up at his place, actually trying to see him, to talk to him, he would give you two word sentences in reply, his eyes fixated on the blank wall in front of him the whole time, as if he wasn’t even there, at that moment.

And he wasn’t. At least, that’s how he felt. After what happened, Lewis didn’t want to be seen, didn't want to talk or to even hear anyone. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, rethinking his entire life.

In the middle of the silence that he decided to merge himself in, there was this question that never ceased, no matter how hard he would try to shake it off. Was it really worth the effort to balance his two most intense passions? On one hand, he has racing - his passion since he can remember, the one thing he loves more than life, the adrenaline that makes his blood rush in his veins. But on the other hand, there’s you: the best surprise he had received from life in a long time. The light that would erupt through his bones in days surrounded by darkness, the one he sees his future with.

But the obsession related to getting his 8th title - the one that was stolen from him, keeps growing in Lewis’ mind, becoming the only thing he can focus on. And it makes him realize that maybe, just maybe, he needs to give up on other things, in order to get what he wishes for so much.

After two entire months filled with distance, Lewis is back at work. He’s currently in Bahrain for the start of the season, his body lying on the bed of his hotel room, while his mind makes him feel physically sore, not allowing him to get any rest while he doesn’t make a decision.

He keeps overthinking everything, and he might try to shut his senses, but deep down, he knows he can’t complete another season by your side. He can’t do it - he can’t put all his effort on the line again, he can’t allow himself to have any more distractions this season.

He knows he needs to do this - no matter how badly it might hurt the both of you, he needs to let you go. He can’t continue having to choose between his career or his love life, and he knows that this might sound mean, but Lewis is very well aware that racing will never leave him, it’s the only constant that he has ever known in his life.

So he takes a deep breath, grabbing his phone to type a quick text to you. He can’t help but feel his heart shrinking when he reads the amount of messages that you have sent him, to which he hasn’t replied.

“Hope you have a safe flight, love”, “I wish I could be there to support you in person, but I understand that you'd rather do this one by yourself. I will still cheer you on from here”, “I love you so, so much. You will always be my champion, Lew ❤”

You know that he has been struggling a lot lately, the end of last season really destroyed him completely, wrecked all his beliefs, everything that made it possible for him to keep going. It hurts you, of course it does. Of course it pains you to see your boyfriend pushing you away, closing all the walls of his life around himself, not even cracking a bit to let you in, to allow himself to share this dark period with his other half - that’s what you’re with him for: to help him, to pull him from the ground, back to his feet. But you love him too much, so you decide to be patient and to not give up on him, keeping your faith up, trusting that your boyfriend will come back to you once he gets his confidence back.

It’s not you, it really isn’t. It’s a problem that Lewis has with himself right now. During the past few months, he realized that he doesn’t want to be a half anymore. He doesn’t want to share his life with anyone right now, he wants to feel complete with his own company and achievements. And for that, he needs to get rid of this feeling of unsureness, of feeling like he isn’t enough, like he needs to give more and more to reach his goal - and he can’t do it while trying to balance so many different sides of his life.

Lewis really loves you, though - even if it might seem like he doesn’t, right now. His feelings are a mess but he has no doubt that you were the one for him. The one that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, sharing his dream of having kids with you, of growing older together, keeping you safe and sound by his side through the years. But he simply can’t focus on that anymore - at least not for now.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want things to go this way, but I can’t do this anymore. This is the end of us” - he sends, immediately turning off his phone so he won’t read your messages, falling into the temptation of answering your calls.

He is acting like a dick, yes. He is a coward, absolutely. You didn’t deserve any of this, and Lewis knows it. He hates to admit it, but he just doesn’t have the courage in himself to break your heart in person. He doesn’t have the strength to let the words leave his mouth, to watch your face fall while he destroys you emotionally, pulling the rug from under your feet, admiring your fall into a dark hole, surrounded by your own old ghosts - welcoming the new ones that he just created with his actions.

You are left speechless, your mouth agape while you read his text over and over again. No matter how many times you try to text Lewis, call him, try to talk to him about all this - in need to understand what happened, what triggered this reaction in him. He never replied, he never picked up.

Leaving you alone to pick up all the pieces that he broke inside of you, silence is the only thing stringing you two along. All the questions are loud in your mind, making you hold your breath until the thoughts quiet down. Wondering what’s the point of trying anymore, of waking up everyday to a tear stained pillow, to an aching heart, stealing all the will you had to live.

You’re not just sad. You are disappointed, devastated, wrecked. Everyday you read that message, everyday you try to call his phone, only to no avail. He doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore - and you don’t know why. “Maybe you’re just not good enough for him anymore, maybe he met someone else, someone who gives him things that you could never give. Or maybe, he got bored and you’re just not what he wants anymore” - your brain tells you.

It’s a never ending train of self-destructive thoughts, leading you to tear down your own walls, your skin, your feelings - blaming yourself and your actions for what happened, being unable to accept what happened.

Maybe you should have insisted more during those two months that he locked himself inside his house. Maybe you should have showed up more, maybe you should have pushed him to open up, maybe you should have made a bigger effort to help him more. Instead, you gave him space, time, distance. You let him slip through your fingers.

But Lewis knows that there was nothing that you could do to prevent this. Since that night in Abu Dhabi, he could feel it inside of him - the rollercoaster ready to fall off the abyss, destroying everyone around him. And that’s what happened: he finally crashed, breaking you and everything you represented for him.

Cutting your thread loose, leaving you holding on to nothing, he still thinks about you everyday. He misses you, and he blames himself for all the suffering that he knows that you are going through. This situation kills him as well - fuck, he still loves you. He shouldn’t have to choose between you or his job. He shouldn’t have to cut off such an important part of his life to give his all to the sport. He shouldn’t have to die to feel alive.

He still wishes he could pick up your calls, some tears leaving his eyes whenever he opens your conversations, reading all the messages you still leave him. All the questions you pour into your texts, the way you beg him to talk to you. He desperately wishes he was able to do it, but he can't. He is the only person holding himself back from talking to you, but in his mind, he needs to keep strong, he has to resist the urge to see you.

He will try his best to let you go, for good. He will try to forget you and every single detail that he knows about you. He is determined to forget about everything that reminds him of you. But until he is able to do all that, he is still going to continue loving you. Lewis is going to love you until he doesn’t feel it anymore.

Your love for Lewis was replaced by a cold ice stone, placed above your heart to freeze your feelings for him. The lack of sleep, the lack of self care that you endure on yourself is enough to make you seem unrecognizable to everyone around you. The dark bags under your swollen eyes, the sadness painting your lids, the way tiredness spreads through your body, making it impossible for you to show the most minimal reaction to anything that is happening around you.

You’re sure of one thing: after this, you don’t want anything to do with love anymore. And while you try to recover from the biggest heartbreak you have ever been through, you decide to keep the lowest of profiles, not daring to pass near Lewis’ house anymore, not walking inside the same spots that you know that he often goes to. Trying your best for neither him nor his close ones to ever land their eyes on you ever again.

Lewis thought he would be alright, though. He firmly believed that he would overcome this situation after some weeks, and that his focus on the season would be enough.

Turns out it’s not. Lewis never predicted that this season would be equally hard on him - from uncountable problems with his car, to struggles related to different points of view when it comes to strategies within the team, the waves of miscommunication washing over Mercedes, making everything so much harder for Lewis.

If last season he already had his hands on the championship, this year he isn’t even close to getting a glimpse of it. And he doesn’t know how to deal with it, he can’t understand and accept the anger and frustration growing in his chest, the sensation of failure surrounding his brain making it impossible for him to keep a clear mind.

The truth is: he isn’t used to doing all this alone anymore. It’s been months since the last text he sent you, but the more he struggles, the more he thinks of you. Having to go through such difficult times during the season without having you by his side is destroying him.

You were his biggest support. You were the one who would put up with him through the good and the bad. You would hear his complaints, deal with his moodiness - and God knows how hard it is to deal with a moody Lewis. You would cheer him up, being the only one who had the power to put a smile on his face when he was feeling down. You would hold him, caress his skin softly while he hugged you, nestling his body closer to yours, in such need of your affection - and you would never say no to his pleas of help.

Lewis can’t, for the life of him, forget you. He can’t let you go, no matter how tough he might act - he is still struggling and suffering from the choice he made. Some tears run down his features every night when he lays down, the bed feeling way too cold without your body next to his. His skin misses the goosebumps that your giggles would make erupt, his eyes miss all the times that he would spend analyzing all your details, he misses holding you close, pouring all the love from his heart into you. He misses you terribly, and he can’t stop denying: none of this makes sense without you by his side.

He knows that he shouldn’t, but he decides to reach out to you, trying his luck - even after knowing damn well that he ripped your heart apart, that he acted like a total douchebag to you. But he is hoping that you will give him one last chance, he needs to make everything right again.

“Hey, Y/N… I know that I am probably the last person on earth that you want to talk to now, but I would like to know how you’ve been?” - sent at 10:32 pm. read at 10:32 pm.

The way you almost immediately opened his message as soon as Lewis pressed “send”, made his eyes widen. He waits a few minutes, hoping to get a reply back from you, but nothing reaches his end. Not even the three dots on the corner of the screen threaten him to get an answer, because they never appear.

A sigh escapes his lips, leaving the texting to try and actually call your number now. You didn’t answer the call, and Lewis let it ring until it reached your voicemail.

His fingers move to type again. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the way to make up for all the shit I’ve done. But I genuinely want to talk to you, so I can explain everything that happened and why I acted like a dick to you” sent at 10:37 pm. read at 10:38 pm.

Still no sight of a possible response from you, so Lewis decides to just open the game now. You might not reply to him, but as long as you keep reading his messages, he has an opportunity to actually explain his side to you. So he doesn’t give up.

“I was dumb, very dumb. I thought I wasn’t capable of reconciling our relationship with my career, and I thought that putting an end to what we had was the right decision. Please, I hope you don’t think that I had found someone else, or that I’ve been with other girls since I left you. I haven’t. In fact, I’ve been alone, trying to deal with everything on my own. And the truth is, everything is getting too much. I don’t even feel real anymore. And you might not believe me right now, but as much as I try, I can’t forget you, baby. Fuck, I miss you so, so fucking much. I can’t do any of this without you by my side anymore. I miss your touch, I miss your scent, I miss your laughs. I just want to see you again, I want to make it right again. Please, just give me a chance. Whenever you are ready, please. Just reply to my messages or call me back, no matter the day or the time. I would blow all my plans to have the chance to talk to you again.” sent at 10:43 pm. read at 10:45 pm.

The silence he gets from your side lets him know that you really don’t want to talk to him. But you’re still reading his messages, you haven’t blocked his number yet, so maybe there’s still some hope.

“I’m racing at home, next week. You know how special Silverstone is for me, so if you’re willing to give me another chance, please show up. I’ll save you your favorite seat, hoping that the love of my life might come out to enlighten my senses again. Please, I need you so badly, baby. This doesn’t make sense without you. I love you, and please believe me when I tell you this: I never stopped loving you” sent at 10:52 pm. read at 10:55 pm.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis’ name popping on your screen, one text after the other. Four months have passed by since he broke your heart, since that fateful night when he left you through a text, not even having the nerve to reply to your calls anymore.

Tears paint your features while you curl your body in between the sheets of your bed, feeling all the pain coming back after reading all his words. It hurts to know why he broke up with you, it hurts to realize that he isn’t doing well either, but you are too shattered to bring yourself to talk to him again. You miss him like crazy, you would do anything to see him again, to touch him, to kiss him again - but you could never forgive him for all the things that he put you through. You’re unable to forget the immense pain that he caused to erupt in your life.

You wish you could give him a piece of your mind, though. You wish you could let him realize how he doesn’t know how to step outside himself. And how it really isn’t your fault that he can’t deal with his problems like an adult.

At the same time, you know that you would give in immediately. Looking into his chocolate eyes, you would confess to him about how you would give him all of you. How you would save your soul just for him, so he could be the only one able to navigate through you.

But you decide to give him the exact same response that he gave you when you were crying your eyes out, your soul hurting as you sobbed at the loss of him without an explanation: silence.

When the weekend arrives, Lewis can’t help but feel ecstatic with anxiety at the possibility of you showing up. His eyes scan through all the seats, smiling softly as he sees his family and his close friends right above his garage, cheering him on.

His heart grows at the sight, but he can’t help but frown when he realizes that you’re not there yet. But maybe you’ll arrive later. Or maybe you are only showing up on Sunday to watch the actual race. So Lewis decides to patiently wait until you decide to show yourself.

He waits the entire weekend. But he can’t help himself when his fingers are typing on your chat again. “Hey, today was practice day. I know you didn’t come here, but I hope you’ll change your mind and still show up. I am praying to see you. I will wait until Sunday, but even after that, I will wait the rest of my life for you, if I have to” sent at 9:53 pm. read at 10:11 pm.

“Just please, be honest with me. I know I shouldn’t be asking you this, since I wasn’t honest to you. But if you don’t plan on showing up, just tell me. Because I keep feeding myself off of the illusion that I’ll see you anytime now, and your absence is killing me. Please” sent at 10:15 pm. read at 10:27 pm.

All of the sudden, the three dots show up on your corner of the conversation, making Lewis’ heart race, sensing how his hands feel shaky as he sees the dots moving on his screen - anticipating a reply for you.

You almost gave in. You almost reply, but after a while of you writing something to send him, you decide to delete your message, leaving him to deal with the deafening silence once again. Your action breaks his heart a little more, putting his phone to the side, realizing that there’s no point in insisting any more.

At the end of qualification, Lewis leaves his car, celebrating his P2 with his family, a half smile showing up on his face while he looks around, his eyes wandering through the seats, the space around him - but still, nothing.

“She didn’t even show up for like, only a bit? And then left?” - he asks his father, only to notice his apologetic look while he shakes his head at his son’s question. Lewis sighs, all the regret of his own actions pooling through his blood now, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he notes how his dad’s answer bothers him so much. The fact that you’re not there bothers him, hurts him.

And with your seat being empty for the whole weekend, Lewis’ victory at his home track doesn’t feel the same. He is happy to win, yes. He is happy to celebrate with his family, yes. But his family is incomplete, because you’re not there. You are the only one that he was truly hoping to have by his side today, to celebrate this special day with. You are the reason for everything he does, but the void that you left in him, makes it all worthless now.

Holding the trophy doesn’t feel the same if he is not hugging you close when he steps out off the podium. And while the national anthem is playing, he can’t help but let some tears show while he looks at his close ones, wishing you could just show up out of nowhere, like a magic trick, bringing you back into his life.

Lewis can’t be happy without you, his life isn’t the same without you - it’s not as bright, as bubbly. And while he holds the trophy close to his chest, he notices how cold he feels. In this moment, in front of thousands of people that are here to see him, to celebrate his victory, he realizes that when you get what you wished for, you might not want it anymore.

And he would give up all his career, all his trophies, to just have the mere chance to look you in the eyes again. Because physically, we inhabit a space, but sentimentally, we are inhabited by a memory - and the memory of everything you and Lewis had will forever haunt him, constantly reminding him that he lost the love of his life, forever.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton angst #thoughts about lewis #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year ago

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I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

#Sage's Law #HB 2432 #gender ideology #queer theory #ideological corruption #genderwang #safeguarding #child safeguarding #predators #groomers #predatory #gender cult #religion is a mental illness

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ruiniel · 2 months ago

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Another Way - XII

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Summary: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what’s more they can’t understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, References to Depression, First Meetings, character-meets-world, Near Death Experiences, References to loss, Grief/Mourning, Fantasy, POV Second Person, Language Barrier, Violence, Portal Fantasy, Isekai, Slow burn, References to canon, Rewriting show canon, Because why not, POV Alucard, POV original character, More tags to be added

Also on AO3

Part I

AN: been a while

XII.

He doesn’t like coffee.

This becomes quite apparent with the different flavor of mild disgust over his features after each sip.

“It’s an acquired taste for some,” you try saying with a straight face, because it is more amusing than you’d thought to see a grown man with a perfect jaw and bedroom hair seated at your small table, coming up with the most telling, candid expressions.

After breakfast—during which he insists on turning the cooker on and off, ‘to learn’, and during which, once again, he eats little to nothing—you head over to your desk and obtain for him the work Adrian asked for. It’s not difficult to find, and happens to be the first book printed in the English language, in the 1400s.

“Is… this it?”

His enthusiasm says ‘yes’ when seeing the title page, and you let him take your place and scroll through as you head to get ready for the adventure of helping him look less conspicuous. “All right, enjoy your courtly romance, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“All right.”

You pause, turning to stare but his eyes are feverish on the screen, attention absorbed by the text. Whatever works. You decided to stop wondering.

Having made yourself presentable enough to be outside, you tap back into the room on bare feet. “Ready to g—...” you trail off at the sound. His voice. His voice, with that same mild inflection, but the words are oddly shaped to the ear.

He’s reading aloud from the online scan you fetched him, nodding, writing in the agenda.

“What’s… this?” You near him, narrowing your eyes at the screen.

Adrian turns to you with an excitement you’d not seen or felt in a long, long while. Somehow, it’s endearing. This side feels like him too, a natural expression in contrast with all those confused, dour moods he’d been mired in.

“I need…” He pauses, hand in his hair, eyebrows pinched together.

“What… do you need?...”

He points at the scan of the text, long fingers gliding along the little black rows of archaic words. “... from now.”

“From now?... Oh! A modern version, you mean? From our time?”

Adrian nods. “Possible?”

“Y-yeah. There might be one… wait…” As you search it for him, Adrian waits patiently with his arms crossed, rubbing at his chin. “I get it. You want to learn modern vocabulary equivalents, don't you?” You bring up the 1400s version of the work again. “Wait… you understand this one?” Not that it's impossible, shouldn’t be. But you didn't exactly take him for someone pursuing comparative historical linguistics.

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving you bemused.

“You know what? I won't even ask. Go ham. Here, I found it.”

As he nears and glues himself to the screen, you dare to gently pull on his sleeve.

“Remember…clothes?”

Adrian blinks in realization, then stares back at the screen with a sort of longing. You get it. He’s making a breakthrough here, or so he thinks, one that’ll be of help in wading through terrain unfamiliar to him.

But the rare practical side of you insists. “You can pick this up when we get back, right?”

He meets your eyes, nodding in acceptance. “Right.”

The bell rings as you open the door to the second hand shop you sometimes frequent, looking behind you to see Adrian entering with care, gazing about with mild interest.

“Well, here we are,” you say as he meets your stare, before looking towards the shop attendant who’s sitting behind a desk, phone in hand, chewing on some gum and watching the both of you with piqued interest—no, rather, watching him.

You cough, “Hi, we’re looking for some—”

“Men’s wear is over there,” she answers, not taking her eyes off Adrian.

“All right, thanks.” Starting to think this is a typical reaction. You make a gesture, urging him to follow.

He has a befuddled look on his face, but walks after you as you reach the rows of clothing boasting jeans, t-shirts and jackets.

“So, listen.” You turn, waving a hand around the space. “You look for something you like.” You pull at your own blouse, pants, and coat. “And there’s a cabin over there, where you can try stuff out, if you like.”

He seems to understand, nodding and tentatively following your lead as you rummage through the merch on display. You notice the way he feels the garments, looking at you with a question in his eyes.

“Take your time,” you offer, going over and taking a seat on a chair.

It doesn’t take long, really. Soon enough he’s gathered a few items under his arm, a bundle of… mostly black, cream and white garments. “Want to try these on?” you ask when he nears, standing before you, uncertain.

When Adrian doesn’t reply but tilts his head in slight confusion, you rise and walk towards the cabin, drawing the curtain and showing him the space. “In you go, let me know if…” You pause as he pulls the worn shirt over his head without much ado, spinning around and drawing the curtain behind him. “... call if you need help,” you mumble, stiffly walking away.

Your heart beats strangely, faster as you meet the stare of the shop clerk, who apparently has less important things to do than follow your exchange.

Whatever. You go and idly sift through the items of clothing, humming to yourself.

“Your boyfriend’s out,” comes the clerk’s voice after a while, and you blink in confusion, head swiveling to stare at her.

“Oh, he’s not my—” Before you can finish that thought, movement has you turning in time to see Adrian emerging from the cabin.

“Right, uh, you look… they fit, don’t they?" Heat rises to your face, damn the air conditioning.

Black faded jeans, tight. A simple, white fitted t-shirt—was he always this…slim? Fit? A dark blue coat, reaching to his knees. “They look like they fit,” you follow, scratching your head.

“Oh yeah, they sure do,” comes the young shop attendant’s voice, and a niggling sensation you’ve been unfamiliar with pinches at your mood.

Adrian seems to agree, looking at himself, then at you. “Good?” he says in English.

You nod. “Yeah, good. That’s one round. Things here are affordable, so uh…” you retrieve your phone, type it in, and translate. “Find another item of each, to have spare clothing.”

He’s surprisingly efficient after that, and it’s not long before you’re returning to your apartment block, Adrian following with a bag in each hand.

“Okay, that was relatively painless,” you comment, turning to look over your shoulder at him, and—

“Adrian?...”

His expression is frozen, light-amber eyes wide and lips parted. It’s not out of fear as much as it is… consternation?

You turn back around, a different tremor running through your limbs at the person approaching.

A tall woman, wearing a flowing white dress suit, her red coat slung over one forearm. Her long, straight dark hair is done up in a ponytail, swinging languidly with each step taken on black pumps. She’s always had a distinct sense of style. Her attitude is the usual—one of those people carrying themselves like the world lies in wait at their feet. You never did know how to feel about her, nor do you know much about her. You do know this is but one of many businesses she has under her care. Well to do, in any case.

Guess it had to happen sooner or later. “Mrs. Hawke, hello.”

The landlady smiles in greeting, blue eyes alighting first on you, then focusing beyond your shoulder. She lands a hand on her hip, “How have you been, my dear?”

The question was directed at you, but you’re perceptive enough—you like to think—to notice the unspoken query following the first.

“Doing well, um. You know how it is…”

“Mm.” Her eyes are still on Adrian, but her gaze is different from that of the store clerk earlier. It holds no fascination, merely a calculating sort of curiosity that disappears the moment she stares back at you.

“I actually wanted to contact you, but didn’t get to until now. You see, Adrian here will be staying for a while, and I know that affects the rent, so…”

Mrs. Hawke tilts her chin. “That’s right, normally so—do you have an idea as to how long your additional tenant will be staying?...”

“Um. Well, I…” You feel an urge to turn and look at Adrian, but somehow her stare arrests you enough that you can’t.

Just then, she waves a hand. “You know, nevermind. I know you’ve had a difficult time lately. Consider no fee added to the rent, for now.”

The impossible has happened. Mrs. Hawke, being… lenient? Forgoing business? Not asking the ‘how’ and the ‘who’ and the ‘why’?

“Er… you mean it? Really?” Your jaw might be somewhere on the floor for all you know.

She nods. “I do. If the time of stay extends indefinitely, then that’s another matter, of course… but for now, we should be fine.”

“Thank… you…?”

She laughs, a light, glittering sound. “Oh don’t look at me like that. After all…” her gaze flicks back behind you, only briefly. “Life does seem to hold all manner of… surprises, doesn’t it?”

There’s something unusual in her tone, but, ah, the prospect of not having to scrounge up more money regularly is a godsend. “You can say that again…”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to run!” And she does just that, without another glance, leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

“Well, I’ll be…” you murmur, then remember Adrian. “What is it about you, seriously? It's either the worst of luck or the strangest change... Adrian?”

His stare is unfocused, like something blew a fuse behind his eyes. When you touch his arm, he snaps out of it with a start. “Let’s go up?... You wanted to continue reading, didn’t you?”

Shaking his head like someone having been splashed with ice-cold water, Adrian looks down at you. “... reading. Yes. Let’s…let’s go.”

Picking up fast, you think as he walks ahead of you towards the elevator. And maybe it’s just you, but his steps are more determined than before.

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI

Taglist: @hornyf0ckers @the-keep-under-gresit @pencildrawer12 (this is old, let me know if you want to be removed!)

Want to be added to the taglist for updates? Drop me an ask

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

AN:

Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye (1464) is a translation by William Caxton of a French courtly romance written by Raoul Lefèvre.

#alucard castlevania x reader #castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x reader #x reader #adrian tepes x you #another way #ruiniel:fanfiction #alucard castlevania x you #castlevania x you #alucard x reader

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

spice up your life | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem horner!reader

slam it to your left and fall in love with your dad's team's main rival, shake it to your right and cause chaos

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by christianhorner, lewishamilton and 1,093,448 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: matcha only soz babe

view all comments

user4: they're so aesthetic i love them

user5: i need these f1 connections so my desk can look like that

lewishamilton: in matcha we trust - and almave, check it out at www.almave.com

yourusername: get that bag queen?

lewishamilton: i am just a cog in the capitalist machine

yourusername: babe you are the capitalist machine mr. millionaire

lewishamilton: all i'm gonna say is let's make sure we're in monaco when the inheritance comes in

christianhorner: i can see this?

lewishamilton: is this the point when i'm meant to say sorry?

yourusername: considering we're on the way to his house yeah probably

lewishamilton: sorry i guess

christianhorner: i'll take it for now

user6: the way dads are usually mean to their daughter's bf but it's just on crack with christian and lewis

user7: all i can think is that it must have been hell in 2021

user8: i mean lewis and y/n have been together for years so like it's probably just a running joke (for now)

maxverstappen1: i will fight you if you dare bring me a matcha latte again - I ASKED FOR A RED BULL

yourusername: girl.

maxverstappen1: don't think i can't unseat you for christian's favourite

yourusername: if it's a scrap you're asking for you're gonna get one

maxverstappen1: bring it on

lewishamilton: are you sure you guys aren't related?

yourusername: as if i'd want to be related to THAT

maxverstappen1: babe you WISH you had looks like this

lewishamilton: okay....

user9: someone free lewis

user10: i know he regularly questions how much he can take

lewishamilton: y/n is worth it :)

yourusername: love you babe x

lewishamilton

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,400,331 others

tagged: yourusername, christianhorner & gerihorner

lewishamilton: no more racing means i'm stuck with this lot

view all comments

user11: imagine getting on the tube and it's lewis and christian

user12: clearly the biggest deal here is GINGER SPICE

yourusername: you love us really

lewishamilton: i love YOU really

christianhorner: i know you love me deep down lewis

lewishamilton: i'll say yes but just because it's that time of the year

yourusername: that's the spirit !!

christianhorner: you should keep me on side you never know who is picking behind you in white elephant

lewishamilton: you WOULDN'T

christianhorner: it is my job to be able to read you and i know for a fact that you come to white elephant with the intentions to just claim the gift you bought. and because i know this i have correctly deduced the gift you have brought every year. i will claim it this year just to spite you

lewishamilton: damn. toto isn't even this level.

user13: lewis is so real for claiming his own gift at white elephant

maxverstappen1: YOU RIG WHITE ELEPHANT????

yourusername: lMAO

maxverstappen1: he is disrespecting the horner christmas traditions

lewishamilton: you're not a horner bro

maxverstappen1: @christianhorner MAKE HIM TAKE IT BACK !!! TELL HIM I'M A HONORARY HORNER NOW

christianhorner: max is a honorary horner

maxverstappen1: see !!!!!!!!! @lewishamilton you're not even a horner STONES AND GLASS AND HOUSES OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT

lewishamilton: *not yet

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user14: idk about you but i actually live for the lil spats between all of them and y/n just watching with popcorn

user15: is he teasing an ENGAGEMENT

user16: i mean they've been together for years we've been waiting

christianhorner

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 781,223 others

tagged: lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 & yourusername

christianhorner: happy birthday to one of the greatest of all time in our sport and the love of my daughter's life. i can't say i was overjoyed by her choice in a boyfriend when i first found out, but you guys are perfect for each other! happy birthday and don't have too much fun

view all comments

user17: annual toto and christian truce on lewis' birthday

user18: i know lewis and y/n are just chuckling to themselves when they once again purposefully sit christian and toto together

user19: plus george and max together

lewishamilton: thank you christian, i hope to annoy you on track as much as i do off track this season!

yourusername: i don't think his blood pressure can take that babe

christianhorner: i am not that old

yourusername: if that's what you wanna hear... sure!

christianhorner: i wanted this to be a happy post don't make me call in max

yourusername: ... you wouldn't?

maxverstappen1: i'm already here dumbass

lewishamilton: of course you are

maxverstappen1: i was going to say happy birthday but i'm always down to tussle with y/n

yourusername: i will read your ass for filth

lewishamilton: and i will help :)

maxverstappen1: fine. you win this round birthday boy and other one

user20: i hope they keep up this bit forever

yourusername: *happy birthday to the sexiest guy in the world. there fixed it for you

christianhorner: that would be quite inappropriate for me to say

lewishamilton: i see how it is christian

yourusername: don't worry babe the most important horner thinks you're sexy and that's all that matters

lewishamilton: i love you too, you're definitely the sexiest horner

maxverstappen1: max verstappen erasure

yourusername: FUCK OFF

user21: can christian just adopt max already?

lewishamilton: don't give him any ideas

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and 2,311,044 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: can you guys stop fucking yelling at me now. jokes, i just got engaged to the love of my life, it doesn't get any better than this (though if your dad and quasi-brother wanna let me win a race i'd be thankful)

view all comments

user25: crying like it's my own two kids getting married oh my

user26: the dress is going to be so fucking beautiful i can't wait !!

yourusername: haven't stopped crying, i love you so much

lewishamilton: i love you more

yourusername: NOT POSSIBLE

lewishamilton: i'd be prepared to swear it in a court of law

yourusername: i'd be prepared to literally carve it into my body

lewishamilton: .... babe

yourusername: too far?

lewishamilton: probably, but i appreciate the notion

user27: do we wanna put bets on whether max is going to be nice or a goblin?

maxverstappen1: congratulations assface i guess you really are gonna be a horner before me

lewishamilton: your happiness is really translating through the screen

maxverstappen1: despite popular opinion, i am very happy for you guys and i am very grateful that you treat me like family xoxo

maxverstappen1: okay that's enough being nice, save me a slice of cake or your ass is grass

yourusername: awwww maxy i knew you loved us really!!

maxverstappen1: maybe enough to make me best man?

yourusername: not best man... but you could be my man of honour

maxverstappen1: WHAT ??? FOR REAL ??? DON'T FUCK WITH ME Y/N I'LL CRY

lewishamilton: as much as you annoy me, we'd love you to be part of our day

georgerussell63: max in the wedding party and i'm not... i won't hesitate to get toto on the phone

lewishamilton: I JUST PROPOSED CAN EVERYONE HOLD THEIR HORSES FOR TWO FUCKING SECONDS

user28: so real of you lewis

christianhorner: congratulations!! i can't wait for the big day and for you to finally be a part of the family - JOINT CHRISTMAS I EXPECT EVERYONE THERE THIS YEAR

user29: okay someone check this man's tea

yourusername: thank you dad xxx love you lots

lewishamilton: thank you christian, i will pass on the christmas message

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 1,224,551 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: *fiance

view all comments

user29: the first pic? she on f1 twt or what?

lewishamilton: biggest honour eva

yourusername: nuh uh i'm marrying a knight DOES THAT MAKE ME A PRINCESS

lewishamilton: you're already a princess to me

yourusername: yeah i love you and all that but will the crown recognise me

lewishamilton: probably not ...

yourusername: lol screw them team diana forever

maxverstappen1: insufferable as always

yourusername: i will DESTROY you in a tickle battle when i next see you, consider that a warning

maxverstappen1: i'd like to see you try

yourusername: my new ring makes my slap a hell of a lot stronger btw

maxverstappen1: we get it you're getting married gosh

yourusername: you better get used to it unless you don't want to be man of honour anymore...

maxverstappen1: NO I DO

lewishamilton: this is great i'm gonna hang that over him every time he fucks me over in qualifying

maxverstappen1: UGH

christianhorner: do NOT forget dinner tonight, everyone has come (even the distant ones you didn't know about)

yourusername: we'll be there

lewishamilton: how many are we talking?

lewishamilton: i mean... i can't wait!!

lewishamilton

liked by sebastianvettel, yourusername and 2,410,551 others

tagged: mercedesamgf1

lewishamilton: finally got the 104 - i think the ring was good luck xx

view all comments

user30: WAR IS OVER HOLY FUCK THANK THE LORD

yourusername: falsehoods it was all you baby

lewishamilton: maybe it was the fact you had a merc cap on rather than that nasty ass red bull hat

yourusername: lewis !!

christianhorner: back winning and immediately on the offensive, i see

lewishamilton: i am ... sorry. got a lil excited - y/n does look best in my colours

christianhorner: i am obviously going to disagree

yourusername: can't we all be happy !!

christianhorner: after debrief and out of a 60 mile radius of toto wolff then yes

user31: can they get engaged every week please?

georgerussell63: so like i defended for you... can i be in the wedding party now?

yourusername: no?

maxverstappen1: HA

georgerussell63: lewis???

lewishamilton: i do what y/n says soz

georgerussell63: traitor. can carmen and i at least get front three rows at the ceremony?

yourusername: keep your nose away from any red bulls and maybe

christianhorner: that's my daughter :)

user32: imagine going into a coma in like 2015 and seeing brocedes is dead and buries and lewis and y/n HORNER are engaged even despite AD21

user33: why isn't this the focus of drive to survive?

yourusername: we're too sexy for netflix .... but we would do our own limited series for a price

lewishamilton: and you called me the capitalist machine ... ok

fin.

note: here it is my last WIP !! i haven't written for lewis in so long and i loved the dynamics in this (i think you can tell that i love max, considering he ends up in everything i write lol). so this also means... the requests are open !! i've already had exciting ones but feel free to send in more. also mamma mia p6 is now in the works as well. december is gonna be super busy for me (it's my birthday on the fifth) but hopefully i'll get some christmas themed ones out for all yall that celebrate !!

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 social media au #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton social media au

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