#and actually talking to them and having conversations

[alchemistc]

Consider this the emotional sibling of the Eddie Makes It Worse series.

"I have thought about it, you know," Eddie says, and Tommy nearly inhales the straw of his stupidly sweet cocktail. That's what he gets for always accepting the drinks Buck decides a sip in aren't to his taste.

Eddie gives him a hearty slap on the back, and continues before Tommy's done more than wheeze.

"I had to recontextualize like, seven years of my life after Buck met you. After you turned him into an insane person and also somehow a teenage girl with her first crush and no control or understanding of her emotions."

Tommy's too busy trying to stretch the knot out of his neck and breathe through his nose to call him out on gendering his comparisons. In his experience, boys are the ones committing violence for attention. Not the point. So not the point, and he breathed half an ounce of vodka on top of that.

"I'm - sorry, what did you have to think about?"

Tommy absolutely knows what he's talking about. Eddie absolutely knows he knows. It's not quite out of left field, but definitely center field facing a righty before the shift got banned.

"About Buck. Me and Buck. Us and our... thing."

The shock of Eddie being introspective about this enough to be able to articulate it is enough to keep him quiet. He's not a dumb man. Far from it. It's just - in Tommy's experience Eddie tends to avoid looking internally with the same fervor you try to avoid latrine duty.

Eddie's watching him. Waiting for a reaction. They've already done this song and dance, so Tommy's not entirely sure what to do with this. What reaction Eddie's looking for.

"Okay?" Tommy prods, and Eddie rolls his eyes like the diva he is.

"Okay so, I'm saying. I am 100% sure I'm very straight. Because after Buck came out I thought about it."

"What are you saying?" That's his uncontrollably bitchy tone, right there. His eyebrows are probably putting in work. Eddie seems...incredibly nonplussed.

"I'm saying I thought about it."

Tommy rewinds. Considers the context that got them here, at the bar top, gathering a round for the table...Russo, Hen and Karen, Evan... Karen had made some offhand comment about Eddie and Evan that had made Eddie's eyes dart to his like he was looking for signs that Tommy was wearing Nike Zooms.

"Sorry, are you taking this opportunity, in this moment, to tell me you're definitely straight because you fantasized about fucking my boyfriend?"

Two stools down, a woman wearing a pair of neon suspenders and steel toe boots flicks her eyes away from them in the mirror over the bar.

Eddie's eye roll is always a marvel to behold, but this one might take the cake as far as disdainful energy rolling off him like an aura goes.

"Yeah, like you were worried about the physical attraction."

"Are you saying there is physical attraction?" What the fuck. What the fuck. Where the hell is he going with this?

"I'm saying we're each other's next of kin and he's in my will and I may be more subtle about it but I'm just as weird about him as he is about me. It's, like, contagious, man."

Tommy has to give him that point. His insanity levels have increased exponentially since meeting Evan Buckley. Realizing that taking the lid off of that actually made them stronger as a couple had really opened things up.

"I was having a nice night," Tommy says, and tries to wrangle this conversation back into some semblance of order. "What, exactly, are you trying to tell me?" Eddie opens his mouth and Tommy has to stop himself from smacking his hand across his lips to prevent him from speaking. He points a finger, instead. "If you say you thought about it, I swear to Christ, Diaz..."

"I think Buck probably had a crush on me when we first met. You know - pulling the pigtails, desperate to know way too much about me, that kind of thing."

Great. Cool. Tommy's feeling really good about where this is going.

"And I think I fucking desperately needed someone to love me, no strings attached. And Buck - he did that. No question. Almost from the jump."

Tommy downs the rest of the cocktail in one go. Yep. Still as bad as he remembered.

"So. After you guys got together, I... added some context. You weren't the only one who thought he was pissed at me for finding a second friend."

"What was your conclusion, exactly?"

"He's my best friend, Tommy. Family, in a way no one else will ever come close to. If he called and asked if I had a shovel, I'd be researching endangered plant species before we even got off the phone."

Getting Eddie into true crime podcasts was a mistake. "Ride or die, yeah, we all know."

"See, I don't think you do, Tommy. I really don't think you do."

If they could get to the point, already, Tommy might not have to gouge his own eye out with the cocktail straw poking temptingly out of the empty glass in front of him.

"Because as much as I care about him, as much as he cares about me - we'd never be what the other needed. I'm too in my own head all the time. He's - way too needy." Tommy wants to contest this assassination of his boyfriends character, but Eddie seems like he might actually be meandering somewhere near the point. "And, yeah, sure, I did once attempt to figure out if I was attracted to him."

Jesus fucking Christ. They're in a bar. They have an audience, at this point, even if it is just the lesbian couple two stools over and the bartender who's either needs to tap a new keg or learn how to pour without creating a drink that's mostly head.

"My point is the only reason you should be concerned about me is if you ever piss Buck off bad enough for him to need an alibi."

The words come out before he's had time to filter them through his brain. "Did you get off?"

Yeah. The cocktail was mostly vodka, but there's no way in hell he can blame that entirely on alcohol. He'd had a wallowing jack-off or two featuring more than just Evan, in the months he'd drive past Evan's loft hoping for some rain and for Sia to organically pop up on his Spotify station.

Eddie slides a shot of tequila in Tommy's direction. He doesn't remember ordering those. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Edmundo."

"Thomathan."

Tommy takes the shot without bothering to cheers him. He doesn't deserve the time it would take for his mouth to form the "Salute". Hell, he's not even worthy of a "Cin Cin", not with his face doing whatever it's doing right now.

"Tell Buck he's welcome from me," Eddie says, and before Tommy can do much more than blink he's gathering up all but Tommy and Evan's drinks to take them back to their table.

This feels like a mind game. He isn't sure whether he's meant to be grateful, or murderous. Two stools down, Suspenders swivels to stare at him. "You look like you just got slapped in the face with a fish," she says. The bartender eyes him like she might be thinking of pouring him another shot.

"Hi," Evan says, directly into his ear, and Tommy jolts. "Eddie said you were right behind him. Did your arms stop working?"

"Just his brain, honey," Suspenders chimes in. The woman to her left titters into her hand.

"Give it to me straight," Tommy says, and Suspenders snorts into her drink. "Has Eddie told you about his Thinking About It process?"

"Oh, with the trying to picture enjoying me naked?"

Tommy pinches his nose and makes a valiant effort to ignore the hand slapping down on the bar top to his left, the canned attempt at hiding a choked laugh. "Sure. That. Normal best friend things."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I got even less enjoyment out of it than he did."

Suspenders wheezes.

"You did it together?"

"Gross, Tommy."

"Oh, sure, I'm the one reacting weirdly to this."

"If it makes you feel any better, we were broken up. And the only reason I even thought of it was - you know. Tech- technically your fault. You were the one wining and dining my straight best friend while I was trying to get your attention."

Suspenders girlfriend is having a conveniently timed coughing fit.

"Am I having a stroke?" Tommy asks, but it comes out perfectly coherent, so knock that off the list.

"Do you wanna go home?" Evan has the ability to switch moods on a dime. Tommy's really never seen someone so good at it. "I can settle the tab. I - are you okay? Do you need - water, or - " he's reaching for a stool " - or we can sit."

Tommy's been resistant to being taken care of since he can remember. There's something to the way Evan approaches it - purposeful, the opposite of effortless - that makes Tommy want to crumble like a house of cards. He snags Evan's wrist in his hand. "Evan."

As usual, that's all it takes to still him, for a moment. The cheeks rise, the dimples grow more prominent, his eyes alight on Tommy's like he's seeing something worth looking at.

"I love you. Your best friend is insane and you're half a step behind him, and I love you."

It's not the first time. Thank fuck, that would be a terrible way to drop that bomb. But it's still new enough not to be casual. New enough to make Evan's cheeks burn a rosy pink.

Evan smirks. "You wanna get out of here?"

He'd been enjoying a conversation with Karen, twenty minutes ago, but he doubts he'd be able to form a single coherent thought anymore. The green demon he's kept under wraps for forever now has somehow both gone dormant and is currently trying to convince him to toss Evan over his shoulder and make a break for it.

Tommy makes eye contact with the bartender. Raps his knuckles against the bar top.

Evan's grin goes a little feral.

[camerahaterlittle]

We're from the same pack but from rivaling herds | Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia has never been a good mother to you and finally you snap and she finally realizes her mistake as a mother

Warnings: Bad writing grammer and mentions of purposeful self harm Alexia's a bad guy here yall if this seems like something that you wouldn't enjoy please don't read

Ever since Alexia was pregnant with you, she never really thought about the future and whether you'd take on her legacy and continue to play football with your name of the back of the jersey even when you were born she never felt that connection that her mother told her she would feel with you she was just numb she didn't necessarily like you but she loved you.

Whether that was because she felt like she had to or because she actually did was always unclear to her and only her because she never told anyone how she actually felt about having you but deep down she knew that she didn't want you by any means in her kind she was young in love and free.

You always thought that's why you always sat alone at the dinner table eating dinner with one of Alexia's old jerseys on one of the chairs stretched out so it'd fit there pretending it was her when you were only 5 years old with whatever interview you could find of her playing in the background while Alba slept on the couch.

Ever since those days you swore, you wouldn't let your mother hurt you any longer, yet it didn't work all that well since you always bit back your words every time you were talking to her (it was really arguments) and those talks always left you in tears at a random gym taking your pain out on a punching back was your form correct no not at all your fists always hurt in the first ten minutes because you didn't wrap your hands right but in some way you enjoyed the pain since it took your mind off everything else.

Boxing was your thing it let you relieve whatever emotions you were feeling without any form of consequence if you didn't count the fact your knuckles would be killing you after the session with barely any breaks boxing was more of your thing than football ever was and maybe that's why you and your mother got pushed further away there wasn't anything you could bond over since your hate for football from when you were 5 stayed all the way until now.

And that was why to your self adopted coach, said you were the best fighter in Spain, at least that's what he told you that you could be if you let him help you and get you to that point you only nodded barely listening to the guy only 'agreeing' because you wanted to get back to hitting the bag like it offended you in some way.

Did Alexia know about your fighting? No, she didn't. No one really knew if you didn't count Ingrid and Mapi in that statement because they knew everything, yet you made them promise not to say anything or do anything when you broke down in front of them spilling everything that's been happening.

The couple had become your anchor through everything they were the only thing holding you above the crashing water, keeping you a float helping you swim through everything you knew you could always count on them no matter the situation they were always there and that was something you'd never take for granted since you never got that much growing up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked around, trying to spot Mapi and Ingrid in the small crowd of people. After your fight, you ended up winning, which wasn't a surprise to your coach or any of the small number of fans you had since you normally won every fight of yours with barely any struggle.

But to your surprise, when you finally found the couple, you saw Alexia standing right next to them, a small frown on her face with her arms crossed against her chest. Your expression hardened immediately. Your jaw clenched as you took off your gloves so you could finally wipe the sweat and blood off your face.

You were zoned out the entire conversation with your coach, only humming or mumbling a small okay in response to whatever he was saying the moment he was finished talking to you, you were out of the ring walking over to Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia the couple pulling you into their arms like they were trying to shield you away from Alexia's gaze.

"You did amazing out there cariño best fight I ever saw." Mapi murmured in your ear as she held you closer to her as Ingrid started a somewhat friendly conversation with Alexia, trying to get her attention off of you and Mapi.

You had the smallest smile on your face from her praise as your arms slightly tightened around her, enjoying the warmth and love you got from the fellow Spaniard. "Thank you, Maps," you said quietly, a small shiver going down your spine when her hand started to scratch at your scalp, ignoring the way the slightly wet strands felt against her fingertips.

Mapi looked up and away from you when Alexia cleared her throat, rolling her eyes at the sight of you and her best friend together. Mapi slowly pulled you out of her arms so you could actually see your mother, yet you stayed close to one of your favorite people, not like the arm Mapi still had around you was gonna let you go anywhere at all.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were boxing now, huh?" Alexia spoke her tone sharp and calculated just like it always was when she spoke to you. Mapi, in response to Alexia's words, pulled you a bit closer to you, offering you a silent comfort from Alexia's coldness.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal it's just a hobby." Your words came out quiet less harsh than Alexia's the somewhat happiness you felt from before vanishing as she continued. You knew she wouldn't drop this topic even if you just wished she would.

"Just a hobby, then explain why you've been doing this for the past year. If it's just a hobby, why are you continuing this Y/n." Alexia stepped closer to you, her frame towering over yours the moment the Norwegian who was standing on the side saw this she came between the two of you immediately something that surprised Alexia since Ingrid wasn't one for getting in between things often.

"Why don't you leave Alexia she will be home later on in the night. I think you need to cool down some, and then you guys can talk." Ingrid's words were sharp and calculated as she chose her words wisely, stopping whatever possible fight that could've been caused because of this.

You let out a sigh of relief Ingrid's words acting as a life jacket in the horrible waves of the sea keeping you above the water. Mapi pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as she walked away with you, leaving the Norwegian to deal with whatever Alexia could possibly say in response to things.

"She needs to come home now. Engen, there's conversations that we have to have." Alexia's expression hardened as she stared at her teammate, wondering why she was stopping her from getting her child and bringing her home to have a conversation.

"And that's not happening, not right now, Alexia she's not coming home until she's ready to talk to you, and until then, she will be staying with me and Mapi she is safe with us for the time being" Ingrid responded her own expression hardening the longer she stayed with Alexia she knew no conversation would be had it would be one sided the Spaniard in front of her being the only one who spoke while you sat in silence.

Alexia scoffed, shaking her head she had a feeling no matter what she said. Ingrid wouldn't let her take you home, so she left it at that, muttering something in Spainsh that the Norwegian couldn't quite catch in the moment.

Ingrid watched Alexia walk away, making sure she actually left before going to find you and Mapi finding the two of you in the back room of this gym you ended up fighting in a soft smile appearing on hee face as she saw you and Mapi messing around while talking she partly knew that her girlfriend was only doing this to distract you from what had just happened and it was clearly working.

The midfielder eventually walked over to the two of you, interrupting the mini fight/conversation you two were having "Alright you two, we've got to go home and get some food in our stomachs." Both you and Mapi turned, hearing the Ingrid's words pouting a bit since what you two were planning was interrupted but compiled anyways."Yes, mom." "Aye Aye, captain." Came from the both of you, Ingrid chuckling in response as the three of you left ready to get home.

All three of you hopped into the car, buckling yourselves in the car windows immediately being put down some the drive to your favorite restaurant being made while you got the aux cord and you took full control over that playing every Frozen song since in your words "It's not my fault it has one of the best soundtracks" which only resulted in groans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you walked into the house, you saw Alexia on the couch it had only been a couple hours since you last saw her, and you felt your heart clench at the sight of her sitting there zoned out to the point she didn't even notice walking inside the house.

You sighed, walking into the kitchen, grabbing an energy drink, cracking it open, taking a long sip from it. You heard Alexia getting up, making out the sounds of her clothes russling as she made her way into the kitchen after her gaze felt weird like she was staring straight through you or something and you most definitely didn't like that at all.

"Y/n, we need to talk about things." Alexia's tone was for once surprisingly softer than it normally was when she was talking to you, and that threw you off guard.

"You mean you're gonna talk, and I have to listen." Your tone was sharp just like hers was earlier at your fight, and yet instead of you being caught off guard, it was Alexia she never heard you take that tone with her once in her life.

"And quite frankly, I'm tired of listening to you talk and you expecting me to just take it and listen." You continued not giving her a chance to speak you were tired of listening and that was clear.

You took another swig from your drink, not daring to face her because you knew if you did, you'd crumble and wouldn't get everything you felt off of your chest nothing you were thinking in this moment was making sense and that meant everything came out oddly not making much sense but you knew Alexia was smart enough to get the point.

"I know i wasn't ever your baby and that I was only a maybe to you, and it took me forever to accept that hell I don't think I've even accepted it now I think I'm just okay with it now even if it hurts because my own mother doesn't care unless it affects her and even then you couldn't care less." You wiped the tears that were already falling. You expected that you wouldn't be able to hold yourself together during this. What made you say all of this to her was unknown. Maybe it was the softness in her tone, or maybe you were done with everything.

"I only wanted to feel loved by you, but you didn't even give me that all I got was you talking and ignoring what I had to say I got your jerseys on chairs in the kitchen because you were too busy to come home I sat alone pretending you were there with an interview of you playing wishing you'd care or love me just as much as you love football no five year old should have to do that." You could hear your words coming out shaky as you spoke, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You glanced at Alexia seeing her standing there tears in her eyes but you didn't care not when she was your first heartbreak.

"I just want you to love me as much as you love Pina or Vicky. I'm your actual daughter, and yet they somehow get more love and attention from you. I tried everything to get your attention, and yet I still couldn't get it. I wanted your attention good or bad." You took a shaky deep breath, putting your drink down on the counter rubbing your face, trying to get rid of the tears that were freely falling.

"But I didn't ever get that from you. I got it from Mapi and Ingrid. I got it from Alba and Jenni, but never you, the one person's love and attention i wanted i didn't get ever and I don't think you know how much that shaped me as a person." You turned around facing her. You could see she was going through every emotion possible as you continued.

"I don't need it now anymore, but she needed it she needed it more than me. I've grown to accept what you've done, but she hasn't she's still wondering what made you not love her as much as you loved everyone else." Alexia felt her heart break at your words she knew exactly what you meant by she without you even saying it, and it hurt her more than she ever thought.

You picked up your can once again, downing the rest of it before setting it back on the counter just staring into her eyes. Both of your eyes were red, tears staining your cheeks, and in that moment, it really felt like you were looking into a mirror staring back at yourself when, in all reality, it was just two hurt people one hurting more than the other.

You stood there like there for a few more moments, looking away from her as your lip trembled a bit. You just wanted Alexia to answer one question, and one only but you knew the answer would probably break you even more. "Did you ever actually love me? Did you ever even want me?".

You waited for her to respond, and it took her minutes to respond, but when she finally did, your heart broke even more just like you expected. "I don't know. I wish I had a better answer." Alexia was ashamed of herself for the way everything turned out for the way she treated her own daughter.

You nodded, walking over to the door and leaving the house without another word for once it was pouring outside. You wanted to turn around and go back inside the house, but you didn't. You kept walking without a set place in your mind on where to go.

Alexia watched you leave her heartbreaking even more. If that was even possible, she walked over to the couch sitting down head in her hands as she cried, wondering what had happened to make this turn out this way even if she knew the answer deep down.

It had been more than an hour since you left, and Alexia was still crying over everything, her heart aching in a way she didn't know was possible she picked up her phone when it started to ring answering it waiting to see who it was.

"Hello, is this Alexia Putellas" A man's voice spoke his voice ringing through Alexia's ears.

"Yes, this is her. What's this call for." Alexia thought this was just another photoshot guy or anything of that sort but she couldn't have been anymore wrong.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but your daughter Y/n is currently in the hospital in critical condition." The man responded, but he didn't get a response. The call ended immediately as Alexia jumped up, grabbing her keys and leaving her phone behind as she ran out the door, getting in her car driving to the nearest hospital breaking all kinds of laws just to get there.

Okay, I feel like this is incredibly short, but enjoy this while I work on other requests

[wosospacegirl]

loved the latest alexia fic haha

i had an idea for us stem girlies (not wanting to study virology btw, so fkn real)

i was thinking a kika fic where readers a bio/stem student & is trying to teach kika something & likewise kika (and the rest of the younger barça girls) tries to teach r football

Summary: Y/N’s been buried in virus replication pathways for hours. Kika’s had enough.

A/N: for the STEM girls who haven’t seen the sun in 3 business days and need a footballer girlfriend to drag them outside - Everything written here was taken from my own notes...I hope they are right, or else it means I failed my own exam.

..

Y/n had been studying for what felt like seven years straight. 

Realistically, it had only been four hours, but time blurred somewhere between drawing replication cycles and muttering the difference between RNA-dependent RNA polymerase and reverse transcriptase.

Kika had been patient. She really had. She brought her water, kissed her temple, and even sat silently nearby, scrolling through TikTok while Y/n ranted about capsids and envelope proteins. 

But now it was too much.

“...and that’s why enveloped viruses are more susceptible to disinfectants,” Y/n concluded, still scribbling away. “You would’ve thought that the envelope would make them more resistant, right?”

There was a beat of silence.

“You realise we were just talking about lunch?” Kika said.

Y/n blinked. “Were we?”

“You brought up protein bars, and then somehow transitioned into protein coats. Again. That’s like the third time.”

“Okay, but it’s actually a really–”

“No.”

Kika stood up with the kind of quiet menace only a very tired girlfriend could summon.

“You need to get out of this apartment.”

“I’m busy! I have an exam, Francisca.”

“You need to touch some grass.”

Y/n gasped, clutching her notes to her chest. 

“You sound like my mom.. Are you okay? Did a neurodegenerative virus get to your brain?” Y/n  squinted her eyes, talking in a very mysterious and suspicious voice. “It could be rabies.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Por favor, put on some gym clothes.”

“No.”

“You’re coming with me to the training ground.”

“I’m not playing football.”

“You are, just a bit. You’re going to run, breathe some fresh air. Maybe learn how to use your legs again.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I feel like you want to sabotage my academic life.”

Kika deadpanned, “I just want to have a normal conversation with my girlfriend again.”

Half an hour later, Y/n was in mismatched gym clothes, standing awkwardly on the sidelines of the Barça training pitch while Kika passed her a ball.

“Okay,” Kika said. “Basics. Pass it back.”

Y/n kicked it directly into Kika’s shin.

Kika didn’t even flinch. “Right. That was bad.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n muttered. “I use my brain, not my feet.”

“You used your foot just now,” Kika deadpanned. “You’re just not good at keeping control of it.”

Before Y/n could come up with a scathing reply involving cortical motor neurons, a trio of voices interrupted from behind her.

“Hi amiga,” Jana grinned, jogged up with Pina and Vicky flanking her. “That pass was criminal.”

“Terrible,” Vicky added.

Pina nodded solemnly. “You’re bad, bad.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Wow, thank you. So much support.”

Kika smirked from the sidelines.

“She made me come here,” Y/n gestured vaguely toward her girlfriend, “because apparently I’m ‘studying too much’ and need to ‘go outside like a normal person.’”

The girls blinked.

“What are you studying?” Jana asked.

Y/n brightened instantly, like a switch flipped. 

“Oh! I'm doing an exam on virus replication pathways, and it’s super interesting because…wait–okay, so you know HIV, right?”

All three nodded slowly, unsure where this was going.

“Well, it’s a retrovirus, which means it uses reverse transcriptase to turn its RNA into DNA inside the host cell. And that DNA actually integrates into the host’s genome and–wait, let me draw it.”

Somehow, within ten minutes, they’d migrated off the pitch and into the tactical analysis centre. 

A whiteboard was pulled over. Y/n commandeered a marker, drawing the double-stranded DNA meticulously.

“This is the viral envelope, this is the capsid, oh, and DpRd-RT is like–the main enzyme you have to remember, alright? So now we have a full DNA–”

Pina was blinking rapidly.

Vicky was furrowing her brows like she was trying to understand it, really trying.

Jana had started taking notes on her phone.

Kika walked in fifteen minutes later, looking for her girlfriend.

“Amor,” Kika said slowly, “why is my team being held hostage by you and– ai meu Deus…is that a virus?”

Y/n turned around, completely unfazed. “I’m teaching them how HIV uses the host's RNA polymerase II to transcribe proviral DNA.”

Kika stared. “...This started with a bad pass.”

“And now it’s a public health seminar!” Y/n grinned. “Honestly? You're welcome.”

[jeonstellate]

the ghost of legacy

a legacy joins the paddock for the season — and oscar is the only one not keen on befriending her.

๑彡 oscar piastri x fem!räikkönen!reader

๑彡 brief mentions of weight, sainz-leclerc divorce, & wound; depictions of insecurity, grid chaos, & confusion/denial

๑彡 paragraph format — 4.1K words

masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 direct sequel to the ghost of monza!

๑彡 all italian & spanish words in this are from google! yn is kimi räikkönen’s daughter, but there are no physical descriptions mentioned.

๑彡 remember how i mentioned that tgom might be my first & only f1 fic? well . . . i’ve been persuaded otherwise :D i have some regrets about this, so i’d appreciate it a lot if y’all can share some feedback <3

The dawn of a season carries fresh, untainted hope. It brings a clean slate in most things — and in everything that matters. It resets the clock back at zero, and draws a mint coat for the starting line. It opens a new book with blank pages, awaiting fresh ink to flow and fill it with something worth remembering.

As poetic as those sound, Oscar can’t care any less. A new season’s a new season, meaning — for the most part — another chance at winning either championships.

For the remaining part? It means coming back to Monza, A-K-A where he met [first name] for three years in a row.

The Italian Grand Prix is still a lifetime away, but there are already moments where he finds himself wondering if she’ll still drop by and ask about Fernando’s whereabouts this season as well. With three consecutive years under their belts, it kind of feels like a tradition by this point. It’ll be too much of a shame if they break it so close to the fifth anniversary.

Honestly, he’s a little tempted to ask the older driver about his niece, but he’s also a little scared of what the other might do if he shows interest. Fernando looks like he’ll slash his tires as a form of intimidation. He doesn’t seem to be above purposely making contact during a race to prove a point, either.

It’s not like he can cut the middle man altogether. He only got her first name. There are a lot of [first name]s in existence. An Instagram search won’t cut it, especially if her profile picture isn’t of herself. A browser search will be just as impossible, if not even more so.

Oscar lets out a sigh without realizing. Is it better, after all, to let the universe decide if they should continue their little tradition?

"It’s not that bad," he hears Lando say next to him. They’re currently in the general hospitality, with a tray of free food they were promised for attending the pre-season ‘grid bonding’ and meetings. As the hospitality doesn’t open until the season officially starts, it’s just everyone in the paddock — the drivers and the crews — occupying the floors.

He looks at his teammate for that, silently hoping he’ll get a clue on what he’s talking about, because he has absolutely no idea what conversation topic they’re currently on. He didn’t mean to zone out but, alas, it’s just so easy to.

He decides to take a shot in the dark, after a moment of not perceiving any clues. He assumes — based on nothing — that he’s talking about the food. "The presentation might be intentionally deceiving."

Lando isn’t impressed. "You just need to gaslight yourself and think it’s good, if that’s really the case."

"No need! It’s actually good!" Pierre interrupts from one of the full six-seater tables. "Try the soup!"

Oscar isn’t really sure if he trusts Pierre’s tastebuds but he thanks him, anyway.

He guides Lando to sit at the eight-seater table next to Pierre’s group, albeit intentionally at the further side so he doesn’t feel pressured to socialize in the beginning of his lunch. He sits on the second seat from the edge, diagonally from the laptop he’s assuming someone forgot to take with them. Lando sits directly across him.

They eat in silence. Normally, one of them initiates a conversation over food. Today, though, Oscar lets his teammate clear his tray without a word. The other had — wisely and questionably — foregone eating breakfast to make the promised buffet worth his while.

He munches on his lunch thoughtfully, uninterested in taking advantage of the free buffet to the fullest. He — as the rest of the grid — has to watch his weight this close to the first race of the season, anyway, to avoid the risk of jeopardizing the car’s speed. He’s not really a fan of intensifying his gym workouts to burn extra calories if he eats way past his normal fill, either.

He zones out while looking directly at the stickers on the laptop cover. He’s not completely foreign to such practice, since his own sisters have decorated their personal laptops with a collection of stickers. As such, he knows how the stickers and their placements essentially show a portion of the laptop owner’s personality and interests.

Deciphering the laptop owner’s interests proves to be a good ‘during lunch’ activity. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking since most of them are pretty straightforward. Some are definitely out of context. The rest are completely obscure to him, which he doesn’t think too deeply about.

Then there’s a selected few that Oscar feels he should know, like the W resembling a fire and the RKN, but is currently blanking on.

The third general hospitality floor, by some coincidence or another, houses all drivers — reserved or otherwise — for lunch. They aren’t the only people on it, as there as also crew members scattered around, but it’s a bit impressive that the entire grid chose to settle on the same floor. Perhaps it’s an (un)intentional consequence of the grid bonding they’re forced to participate in.

Oscar gains more tablemates halfway through his first plate when Ollie and Kimi sit on the edge closest to Pierre’s group. He gains a seatmate when Alex sits next to him and George appears next to Lando.

There’s some sort of harmony in the chaos of overlapping conversations. Even more so when the tables talk to each other without bothering to get up.

Oscar thinks the chaos already peaked when the British and French drivers started defending their respective cuisines from the other’s attacks. Unfortunately, he’s eventually proven wrong when someone makes a deal out of someone else’s entrance to the floor.

"—laptop on a table," he hears a voice say. He can’t see whoever it is, though, since they’re blocked from his view by another.

"Go grab it first then I’ll introduce you to our drivers." The person blocking his view — someone from Williams, judging from the team uniform — moves slightly, allowing him to finally catch a glimpse of the other.

He sees the same Williams polo shirt first. Then— the matrix must’ve glitched.

He doesn’t remember blinking nor zoning out, but the next second he comprehends has [first name] diagonal from him across the table.

It feels wrong — and he isn’t quite sure what ‘it’ is. It is the fact that they’re currently worlds away from Monza? Or the fact that she’s wearing nothing that can get her mistaken as a tifoso?

[First name] gives him a wordless nod of recognition before excusing herself to the rest of the table, her laptop tucked between her arm and side.

"Osc, do you know her?" Someone in front whispers to him. He can’t be bothered to identify which gridmate, though, much less give them a reply. After all, his attention has stuck to [first name] like a moth to a flame.

Oscar has no shame about blatantly listening in on a conversation he obviously isn’t a part of.

"Alex, Carlos, this is our engineering intern for this year," the Williams crew member introduces the three. "She’ll be shadowing your race engineers alternatively."

"I’m Alex Albon, car twenty-three." He watches Alex as the latter holds a hand out for a handshake. "Welcome to team Williams."

[First name] takes his hand, "A pleasure."

Carlos reacts late, so it’s almost as if he’s hesitant to introduce himself. "Carlos Sainz, car fifty-five." Unlike his teammate, he doesn’t offer his hand for a shake. He just nods his head once — which she then returns with the same energy. "I see I got custody of you in the divorce."

[First name] lets out a laugh that doesn’t even reach Oscar’s ears. "[First name] Räikkönen — a child of the Sainz-Leclerc divorce, apparently."

Räikkönen?

Kimi Räikkönen?

Oscar must admit, despite understanding that her father is a former Formula One driver since last year, this revelation is still surprising. It isn’t unexpected, as Kimi Räikkönen was one of his top suspects then, but shock is definitely still there.

Probably because he now has an irrefutable evidence that the ghost of Monza is actually an F1 champion’s daughter.

And because there’s also a small part of him that feels embarrassed for not realizing right away. After all, [first name] wears her father’s number proudly — and her favored RKN logo is close enough to his RKKNN. Quite literally, the answer has been right in front of him this entire time.

"Räikkönen? Like Kimi Räikkönen?" Alex echoes his thoughts unknowingly. "That’s so cool."

"Exactly like Kimi Räikkönen," she replies good naturally. "He’s the one who passed it onto me."

The younger Williams driver is handling the revelation better than he is, as far as he can tell. But maybe that’s because Alex didn’t spend a good year thinking she’s a ghost. "No way."

"Yeah, [first name]," Charles pipes up from his seat at Pierre’s table. "No way you broke the Ferrari alliance!"

[First name] looks over to the side to meet Charles’ eyes. "There is no such thing."

"There is so!"

She doesn’t give the Monégasque the satisfaction of responding. Instead, she just returns her attention to the Williams drivers. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Albon, Carlos."

She gives them a smile so genuine, the media would’ve scrambled to capture it — partly in disbelief that a Räikkönen could smile like so.

And, for a brief moment, Oscar could’ve sworn [first name]’s smile widens a little when their eyes meet.

(Un)fortunately, she’s gone before he can think too much about it.

The paddock stayed the same with [first name] Räikkönen around, more or less. ‘More’ because the fight for the title is still as cutthroat as the last with new rivalries, without necessarily interfering with the civility between them drivers. ‘Less’ because her presence has caused some drivers to gravitate towards her — unintentionally orbiting her every chance they get.

Fernando is a given. As are Charles and Carlos, based on their already-founded closeness in the hospitality. Alex follows soon after. Then Max.

That’s not an exhaustive list. If it had been, most of the grid would’ve been name-dropped, for sure. Maybe even have all— except one. Oscar.

Oscar doesn’t feel deserving of being [first name]’s friend, for a reason he can’t really put into words. [First name] is . . . [first name]. And he’s . . . just Oscar.

He doesn’t ignore her, of course, nor does he pretend she isn’t there when they cross paths. He just doesn’t go out of his way to be closer than acquaintances and gain her favor. He exchanges brief ��hello’s with her whenever they meet going opposite ways. He returns her nods and waves of acknowledgment from across rooms, and has initiated them on occasion whenever he spots her first.

He doesn’t take detours to drop her off to her destination. He doesn’t sit with her whenever she’s alone, either. Because then, it’ll be a quiet kind of friendship — and he can’t be her friend.

He’s just her acquaintance, at best, and he’s content with that.

After all, [first name] has more than enough new friends. She doesn’t need him — his friendship, that is.

For her part, she seems to respect the invisible line he has drawn between them. Almost as if she can see it as well as he does.

But, perhaps, it isn’t actually as defined for her. For she has no qualms about crashing his pity party on a sidewalk.

"Are you lactose intolerant?" [First name] appears in front of him seemingly out of nowhere.

Oscar takes a second to process what just happened. Even then, he’s still not sure if he’s understanding correctly. ". . . No?"

She nods, almost approvingly, before handing him a paper bag. "Here."

"What’s—" He starts before she can commence her regular habit of disappearing.

[First name], who is already steps away from him, turns back to face him once more. "My dad says it makes everything feel better."

He lets her go after that, albeit her response just made him even more confused.

When he finally opens the paper bag, Oscar finds a spoon, a bottle of water, and a sealed half-pint of gelato in his favorite flavor.

Something in his chest stirs.

The general hospitality is set to house the entirety of the grid drivers for the nth time this season. Another drivers’ meeting is scheduled to start in thirty minutes, and — in true fashion — less than half have made their way up to the room.

By the time Oscar shows up with a pack of others he met on the way, majority of the rookies are already there. Punctuality has obviously not been drained — or, at the very least, influenced — out of their systems.

"George!" Kimi calls for his teammate’s attention as soon as he spots him amongst the crowd that’s barely entering. "Can we adopt [first name]?"

George’s confusion is evident in his stance. Behind him, Oscar needs to stifle an amused laugh. "What?"

"She sang the Italian national anthem for me!" In all honesty, he isn’t following the Italian rookie’s logic. Thankfully, he isn’t the one who needs to respond. "She can also speak Italian!"

He enjoys the view of the older Mercedes driver buffering for an answer from the seat he secured next to Carlos. Even more so when the younger one of the duo pulls out a pleading look with his "please."

He doesn’t know how he found the strength to, but George eventually replies with a non-answer. "You should probably ask Toto about that, Kimi."

"No! [First name]’s ours!" Alex disproves, protectively. "Get your own [first name]!"

"She was ours first!" Charles joins in. The Monégasque likes reminding people she’s a tifoso first, before anything else, during moments like these. He hasn’t quite moved on from the fact that she chose to intern at Williams rather than Ferrari. "Why do you think she knows the Italian national anthem by heart!"

Lewis lets him do all the talking, as Carlos does with Alex. Both seem to have — wisely — figured out [first name] will put a stop to it soon enough, with or without their varied inputs.

And, sure enough indeed, a high pitched sound comes from the speakers built around the room — which instinctively makes everyone cover their ears.

"Princesa!" Oscar can somewhat hear Fernando scold somewhere behind him. "Stop—"

Thankfully, the sound stops within three seconds — and before they actually have to plead for their hearing.

Ever the nonchalant, [first name] merely scans the crowd of betrayed and confused looks before nodding to herself, "Good." It is then that he realizes she used the feedback to silence the room, with the least energy wasted possible.

He knows there’s a chance that might’ve just sent the room into more chaos. After all, they might all be grown up, but they can also a bunch of children sometimes. It was a fair gamble and yet, somehow, she looks like she was completely certain.

He salutes her for that; for having confidence and conviction on par with that of a Formula One driver.

"You’re our race engineer intern, no?" Carlos inquires before expressing his thanks for the printed meeting agenda she handed him and Alex. "Why are you the one doing all of this?"

She shrugs, "Still an intern."

"Do we get one, too?" Esteban asks for the majority somewhere to his left. It’s a fair question, drivers’ meetings don’t usually have the agenda printed out. It’s usually kept hidden from them, to avoid getting them antsy or, worse, letting them organize their protests.

[First name] points to the Williams logo on her uniform. "I’m only required to make Carlos’ and Alex’s lives a little easier."

They find a stack of meeting agenda copies by the front of the room a minute after she disappears. A sticky note on top reads, don’t pass out if they start fighting.

(She becomes their instant favorite to set up meeting rooms. Unfortunately, the FIA has forbidden Williams to let her facilitate their next turn for the same reason.)

The drivers’ rooms are the most private areas in the paddock. It’s where drivers leave their belongings while they’re out and about. It’s where their visitors usually stay to keep out of the crew’s way until the race. It’s where they sneak in a snooze when they don’t get enough sleep from the night before.

However, despite that, the drivers’ rooms can’t be locked from the outside. The McLaren ones, at least, for the time being while their PIN code lock is being updated.

No one knows about the update except for him and Lando, but he still made sure to stash his belongings inside the lockers instead of leaving them lying around just in case. He has faith and trust in the crew, of course, as he has worked with the majority of them for years, but the garage is also an open space. Someone with malicious intent can easily slip in, unnoticed.

In hindsight, it makes the most sense for someone to slip in when either he or Lando wins a race since the garage will be mostly empty then. Thus, a small part of him isn’t surprised to discover that his driver’s room isn’t exactly the way he left it before leaving for the race he ultimately won.

Nothing is taken, thankfully, and the only thing out of place is the sealed half-pint of gelato on the table — which has a spoon tied on it by a familiar handcrafted OP81 bracelet.

[First name]’s.

There’s no meaning behind her very apparent attachment to it. At least, not in a way that is connected to him personally. For all he knows, she only refuses to stop wearing the bracelet — even at the behest of drivers close to her — because of the young fan that handed it to her.

"You don’t have to keep wearing it."

"I want to."

However, nevertheless, seeing the bracelet with his initials and number around her wrist always spark the same unvoiced feeling in his stomach — the one that grew from what stirred in his chest then.

And, somehow, knowing that she intentionally left her prized OP81 fan-made merch behind almost feels like a concession. Like she’s leaving him behind.

That’s an irrational jump in reasoning. After all, they’re not even friends. He knows that — but, apparently, the rest of his body doesn’t. He can easily blame his heightened emotions and illogicality on the adrenaline that hasn’t completely left his body, but that doesn’t make it any less real.

For a reason he is yet to understand, he’s wholeheartedly convinced [first name] isn’t just letting the bracelet go. She’s letting him go, too. And that thought, however illogically sound, doesn’t sit well in his stomach.

He can’t accept the bracelet with the plausible implication it carries. He can’t accept her concession. He doesn’t want to— He doesn’t want her to give up on him.

(He understands nothing. They’re not even friends.)

Thus, like a man with no time to lose and everything in line, Oscar takes off running before he can even comprehend where his feet are taking him.

"[First name]," he calls in relief when he sees her exit the Williams motorhome the same moment he arrives. His voice comes out a little breathless, a little winded from the impromptu run he did around the paddock post-race. He doesn’t care.

"Oscar," she turns with his name on her lips. Her shock is only evident in her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"To return your bracelet," he admits, "and to thank you for the congratulatory gift."

She makes a sound of acknowledgement as the shock filters out of her eyes. "You’re welcome. You can keep the bracelet."

Her words sting, like alcohol is poured over an open wound.

(Ridiculous. They’re not even friends.)

"I don’t want it." He says abruptly, instantly regretting the words the moment they’re out of his mouth. "I mean— the bracelet looks better on you."

"I don’t really like orange."

Oscar swallows down the instinct to correct. Protecting the McLaren papaya pride is the least of his worries at the moment. "It goes well with Williams blue—" there’s a hint of desperation in his voice now. He finds it difficult to swallow— "and Ferrari red."

[First name]’s silence stretches. He begins to wonder if she’s back into being a mere hallucination; if he didn’t actually catch her on time and she’s bound to disappear in front of him any second.

He unconsciously holds his breath, anticipatory and unblinking. Praying, almost.

(They’re not friends.)

Then, finally, the silence breaks with her laugh sounding like scoff. She walks towards him with amusement dancing almost unnoticeably in her features. "Okay."

Oscar exhales in relief. He slots the bracelet back around her wrist with a silent promise even he is yet know.

(They’re not friends.)

The season calendar ultimately reaches the Italian Grand Prix, as it does every year.

Oscar, for someone who had been looking forward to it before the new season even started, has forgotten about it as soon as the new season actually began. In his defense, his plate filled at an alarming rate, especially with McLaren’s steel determination to become this year’s World Constructors’ Champion as well. It doesn’t help that he’s already seeing his only reason every weekend, either.

Well, ‘only reason’ might be a little too vague. [First name] is certainly part of that reason, but a big part of it is the tradition they unknowingly made. At least, that’s what he’d like to think, anyway.

Even if it no longer rings true, especially since . . . then.

They’re much closer since, having erased the invisible line between acquaintanceship and friendship. They still do everything they used to do, but now they aren’t limited to just those. They occasionally take detours now. And sit together, when they happen to take a break at the same hour. They hide together, too, when they crave the quietness of being away from everyone else.

Yet, despite the undeniable spike in their time spent together, their tradition at Monza has never been brought up. Not even in reminiscence.

As such, any thoughts about their tradition only lied dormant until the day of. More specifically, when Oscar finally finds himself sitting idle in the McLaren motorhome with a view identical to where he had seen her appear for the last two years.

It’s a bit too late to phone her to drop by just for the unspoken tradition’s sake. So, alas, all he can do now is will the universe to bring her to the McLaren motorhome for any reason it can think of.

Oscar lets himself wallow. He figures it’s better for him to do it now, since his brain refuses to let him think of anything else. He can’t risk jeopardizing his team like that, in case his compartmentalizing ability decides to fail him later.

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice pulls him back to reality. He focuses back to comprehend [first name] standing just outside of his personal bubble, clad in her Räikkönen tifoso gear. He almost forgot how she looks in them, having gotten used to seeing her in Williams colors for the past several months.

He spots the OP81 bracelet resting on her wrist. Its black and papaya theme compliments her red and white tifoso outfit.

A small smile forms at the corners of his mouth. "Waiting for you."

She tilts her head slightly in confusion, but doesn’t question him. "Sure."

He decides not to alleviate her confusion. He just starts walking towards the door, completely trusting she’ll follow him out. He gestures for her to exit first. "Fernando should be in the Aston Martin garage at this hour."

She obliges. "I know." Unlike the previous year where she actively fought to not walk next to him, she doesn’t even bat an eye when he claims one of her sides as they make their way to the Aston Martin area. "I’ve always known after our first meeting, actually."

Oscar can’t quite believe his ears. "Seriously?" [First name] affirms. He suddenly begins to question their exchanges during his first two years in McLaren, skimming through vague memories for clues. "Then why—"

"I needed an excuse," she shrugs nonchalantly. Acting as if she isn’t singlehandedly rewriting the way he views their little tradition. "I had quite the crush on you."

At the bluntness worthy of a Räikkönen, Oscar stops working altogether.

๑彡 it’s a little awkward to have an note at the end bc of my tumblr formatting, but it’s important to me that you guys know that yn definitely got banned on purpose. it’s meant to loosely parallel kimi in that grill the grid ep where he lost on purpose so he could leave, heh.

๑彡 also! 5/6th way to finishing this, i realized this prolly would’ve been better if i showed yn’s pov— but that was a lil too late, so osc’s pov had to do. yn’s pov would’ve had more angst in it, too, && idk if y’all dig that. lol. in all seriousness, i hope y’all enjoyed somehow <3

[demonic0angel]

Danny: Wes, buddy

Wes: go way

Jazz: we're just- are you okay?

Wes:....

.......

Wes: Steph broke up with me

everyone: What happened?

Wes: dont know. everything was going fine. we were about to sign a lease and move in together, and then bam, she hit me with a break up

Jazz: ah Wes

Wes: T-T I still love her

Dani: Im calling Tim he'll get to the bottom of this.

*two phone calls later*

Dani: so I got some news from Tim. So you know how Steph father is a criminal?

Wes: yeah he's Cluemater, but why does that matter, Steph is no contact with him.

Dani: well he got in contact with her and threatened to put a hit out on you if she didn't come help

Jazz facepalming: so she's doing the stupid "break up with SO to keep them safe" thing

Dani: yep,

Danny: I sense much groveling from her in the future

Dani: it'll probably happen sooner than later. Steph was at Dicks place when Tim confronted her and Dan overheard the conversation and, well, he's now 'helping'

(Omg how’d you know that I was thinking ab them??

I also adjusted the ask a little bc I lowkey started writing before I finished reading, and I really don’t want to change what I wrote.)

Wes put his head in his hands with a low moan of despair.

Jazz patted his back. Danny hummed, stroking his beardless chin as he then laughed to himself. “Reminds me of Val. She also broke up with me to protect me. Against myself.”

Dani kicked his shin. “Yeah, because she loved you, you asshole!” She turned to Wes and asked, “So what are you going to do now? I can ask Tim to do some more digging, but I’m pretty sure he feels like she’s right…. Probably because they’re all taught by the same crazy person.”

“Batman,” Wes, Jazz, and Danny all said in unison, sounding exasperated. Dani nodded solemnly.

Wes sighed deeply. “This is why I hate heroes.”

“Amen,” Dan smirked.

“Wes! Dan!” Jazz scolded, ever the hero-admirer.

Danny shrugged a little and offered gently, “I mean… I think you should talk to her first. As a hero, the one thing we hate more than our nemeses is our loved ones getting hurt. She was probably going to make a plan to keep you safe and get rid of Cluemaster at the same time while you two were broken up. It’s not like she knew you could defend yourself or that you had us to protect you either. It’s your choice, but honestly… cut her some slack.”

“I was going to, anyways,” Wes grumbled. “She wanted to protect me, and I won’t punish her for that. Even if she thinks I’m some sort of defenseless, stupid civilian.”

“Well….” Dani said and she and Danny shared an amused look before bursting into laughter. Wes rolled his eyes as Jazz gave an amused huff. Dan just crossed his arms and looked at Wes with a bored look.

“If you want, we could take care of Cluemaster,” Dan said. “You should talk to her and then hopefully resolve this.”

Everyone looked at him with vaguely impressed expressions. Jazz was a tad teary as she said, “Oh, Danny, I’m so proud of you! Actually offering something altruistic! Oh, you’re growing up!”

“I’m already grown up!” Dan snarled, bristling with a green tinge to his cheeks. “I’m 8 years older than you!”

“My little brother’s growing up and being nice!” Jazz gushed, pulling him into a hug as he scowled and ground his fangs together.

Danny and Dani burst into laughter again and even Wes couldn’t help but chuckle. He relaxed as the siblings all bantered and had fun, leaving him a moment of quiet amidst the oddly soothing noise to think about what to do.

Stephanie had definitely panicked and tried to handle everything on her own, but even if it pissed him off how she made that decision on her own and left him behind in the dust, he was determined to have her back. As a plan began to formulate in his head, Wes nodded to himself.

No one was going to stand in the way between him and Steph. Especially not another deadbeat dad!

[kidicaruslover911]

a/n: I put wife/gf on these women depending on how much I personally like them and on some it’s just fitting for the situation but girl feel free to imagine whatever you want 😭

gf!vi who, whenever you’re outside and need to leave for a second or have to take care of something even if minor, insists on holding your purse for you often trying to figure out how to not look like she just stole it, gf!vi who blows air into your ear to tease you and gf!vi who gets all proud and won't stop smiling whenever a kid swoons over how pretty you are- eyes turning soft yet envious green as soon as it's followed with an innocent marriage proposal, because hey! so that's not how things work; sorry, she has to inform the child that this lady right here, is taken. believe it :p

gf!sevika who is sick and tired of your need to be hyper independent (she understands dw) and who literally has no idea how she’s supposed to be courting you if you won’t even let her hold the door for you. “FREE YOU” (she will) she screams, begs and prays internally every single day, trying to ease you into letting her handle things for you and gf!sevika who’s trying to make you understand that she truly isn’t your enemy and quite literally is on her hands and knees, ready to dote to your every need 24/7 (when she can)

gf!mel who will literally be letting you in on all her products and shares them with you, gf!mel who will also be applying lotion and oils onto your skin to have you radiating just as much as her if not even more. plus she has you smelling like heaven so- gf!mel who will be (if you have any) retwisting your locs whenever it is needed and gf!mel who loves to go jewelry thrifting with you and will apply your lip combo for you

gf!lest who affectionately refers to you as her miss/lady, many times also when conversing with others, gf!lest who you share cigarette kisses with, gf!lest who gently scratches your back with her long onyx colored nails and gf!lest who will trace and kiss all over your moles, pointing out how you must’ve had an indubitably fierce and fiery lover in a past life, joking about how she’ll have to kiss you all the more for you to be covered in thousands of them in a next lifetime…

wife!ambessa whose silver kinky locks you love to comb through lovingly whenever she’s getting ready for the day, wife!ambessa who has you putting on a fashion show for her whenever she’s bought you another few tons worth of clothes, wife!ambessa who keeps a leg between your thighs when the two of you share a bed- not always in a sexual manner, it’s simply a habit of hers, it's comfortable and your legs often end up tangled with one another, and wife!ambessa who has a thing for neck tattoos, especially those that rest at the base of the nape

gf!jinx who'll be in a full blown fight with someone talking about how she really can't be messing around with them for too long this time around because she promised her girl she'd be back at xy o'clock, gf!jinx who’s eyes bulge out after throwing her jacket onto a puddle just for you to walk around it😭, gf!jinx who will be experimenting with crazy makeup looks on you and gf!jinx who seems to sleep like a dead person, yet who's grip tightens as soon as she feels you slipping away from her; either that or she instinctively moves closer to you whenever she senses some sort of unwanted distance between your bodies

wife!caitlyn who places her hand on your knee/thigh, thumb caressing slow circles on it while repeating she will be paying that damn restaurant bill- and everything else actually; put your purse away girl, what do you think this is??? wife!caitlyn who isn't the best at posing for pictures and who every single time opts to find your eyes, using them as a point of focus as she always ends up getting lost in them; like this, she never has a bad photo, especially when you're within the frame, always looking at you, a stare that is ever loving and tender

[harmoonix]

☆ Starseed ☆

~ Small Astrology Observations ~

Libra Mercury/Mercury in the 7H have a deep need to talk about love topics or their relationships, giving advice too

Venus in air signs detach faster than others, someone had to say it..they can easily shut the feelings off

Cancer/Virgo/Pisces Moons are giving fairy vibes, sensible, nurturing, emotive yet practical, gracious in nature

Men who give attractive vibes can have a mix between 8H and 10H, especially their image is represented a lot by the 10H

10H ruler in the 7H can indicate becoming more popular because of a relationship or a partner

5H ruler in the 1H can indicate that you tend to do things that can make you more happy, or you tend to appreciate small things that are done for you

Lilith aspecting the Midheaven can be seen as being bad/can give a bad reputation to the native, influential

Pluto in the 6H is a such powerful placement because your mental power can be so strong! Especially at healing after pain

Chiron in the 7H natives can heal others romantically, can end up being a sidekick, and I will tell you why, they tend to heal broken people, and these people at some point 'can' leave them, always healing a broken wound.

Chrion in the 4h/8h/12h can manage traumas harder than others, depending on the trauma, they can not heal as fast

Mars Retrogade in your chart can indicate difficulties with feeling more confident, to show your full potential, ambitious

Chrion or Saturn aspecting the ascendant can make the native end up in isolation, isolating themselves in order to be better

Venus in 2H is such a good money grab!! Venus loves the 2h and can bring fortune more easier to the native (applied to Taurus or Libra in 2H)

Venus aspecting the Sun gives beautiful skin! Having the powerrrr to shine also gives a big ego. You can easily be liked though

Sun in the 7H is one of the placements I wish I had, though I have my Leo in the 7H is not quite the same, Sun in the 7H makes you to focus a way lot more on your relationships❤️

Sagittarius Risings gave me so much peace, I know so many, which went through so much in their lives yet still smiling!! They're precious

I'm not 100% sure about this one, but I have seen people with Saturn/Chiron in the 8H open talking about their traumas, and it helped so much! They can create a community where they can express their traumas

Moon aspecting Neptune can give the vibe of 'Angel of my dreams', their vibe is clear like the night sky if that makes sense

Saturn aspecting the north node can make the native to overthink the decisions they made in life. If it is in negative aspects, they can overthink more harshly

Capricorn Jupiter and Capricorn in the 9H are so good if you wanna go into the area of education system and school, actually you can end up as a teacher

Scorpio Placements natives are the ones you end up talking with late at night about deep topics in conversation

If you have cancer or libra placements, your energy is probably the most important spiritually talking for you. You can sense when someone has a bad aura

Scorpio Risings have their 7H in Taurus, which, in my opinion, is one of the best signs for 7H being ruled by Venus, Taurus in the 7H really desires a good relationship

I realized how the soul - energy can be for Libra Risings. Just imagine the basic birth chart is set first after Aries Risings, so someone born with a Libra Rising will have their chart switched up in reverse, Libra being the opposite sign of Aries

Natives with the late degrees on ascendant (20° - 29°) can learn more/evolve when they're becoming an adult, or as they can older with the age

Ascendant at 0° degrees happens rarely, but is beautiful! You kinda have a mix of energies in your chart

Chiron in the 3H/5H/11H talk about a wound with communication and can bring social anxiety, fear of being judged to the native

Sagittarius Placements can't stay in one place forever. Their heart desires to travel and move, to discover the world

Sagittarius in the 7H can bring a spouse who may love traveling, so It can be a good placement for those who want to travel with their spouses

Sun in the 8H/12H can bring a fear of the unknown. It can manifest like being always aware of things happening around you

Mercury in Scorpio/8H are real philosophs. They have a deeper understanding and logic and prefer to keep that private

Aquarius Venus/Venus at 11�� 23° is such an 'alive' placement to have, is a social place, a source of happiness within your community

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

[reality-itself-but-magic]

Also! This thing I see happening when

Character A:I don't hate you!

Character B: Really??!!?

Character A: Yeah I enjoy your company actually!

Character B: Immediately goes in for a kiss

like... please. Have them confirm any kind of romantic attraction. Please have them have actual like, conversations. Please at least have them ASK before just kissing someone who just said something along the lines of "you don't suck". Like I have *never* seen this interaction happen without seeming weird like what are they doing that they did not talk about this. There was no indication that Character A wanted this. But it's always shown as the 'natural thing to do', like... what????

a lot of stories treat romance like it makes the relationship between two characters self explanatory and to be honest it doesn’t

[enwoso]

blood, not bond | alessia russo x child!reader

-> based on this request

grumpy masterlist | leah is in it but she kind of pops in and out of it - more focused on: harrison, alessia and lovie.

at seventeen, you had gotten used to the strange rhythm of your relationship with, your dad, harrison.

once every four or five weeks maybe longer if life got in the way, you'd meet up with him. lunch or a quick shop around town, maybe both if you were lucky.

he'd always ask you about school, about your football commenting on the fact that he managed to watch your match on a stream like it meant something to you, or if you were still writing in that journal you'd started in year nine.

it wasn't uncomfortable, wasn't bad either. it just wasn't what people imagined when they heard the word 'dad'.

because really you didn't have a 'dad'. you had an alessia and a leah. they were your parents. your constants.

harrison well, he was.. something else? a figure which floated in and out your life with well meaning eyes and clumsy attempts to connect.

this time you were spending a rare saturday with harrison. but it wasn't in a 'cherished' kind of way, more like it was an obligation.

you didn't hate seeing your dad, sometimes on the rare occasion you'd actually enjoy yourself but most of the time were just.. odd. scheduled. like fitting a phone call in with a stranger into a diary full of people who actually knew you.

this one had started like the others: brunch at the cafe that he liked, shopping afterward if he remembered that you needed new trainers or a jacket. a few attempts at small talk — 'is school going okay?', how's football? scored any crackers yet?', 'how's your mum?'

the day had been fine, until it wasn't.

"so," harrison started, halfway through his eggs benedict. "louis and lily would love to meet you one day."

you blinked, pausing mid-forkful of your pancakes, "who?"

he just smiled like it was a name you should recognise, "your younger brother and sister. i've told them about you, there always asking when they're going to meet you."

your fork hovered still in mid-air, your mouth going dry. "you.. you have kids?"

"yeah, i do" he said as if it was nothing and that it should have been common knowledge to you. "well, you knew about zoey—"

"i knew you had a girlfriend when i was like eleven, you posted her once and then never mentioned her again."

he frowned, "louis is five and lily is three. and the only reason i didn't tell you sooner is cause i didn't want to throw too much at you all at once, but they've been asking about you for a while — especially louis, he's a big football and arsenal fan"

you didn't respond, just looked down. you now suddenly hyper-aware of the clink of cutlery around the cafe, the swirl of the cream in your coffee cup. your appetite vanished.

the rest of the day passes in awkward silences and occasional comments which you couldn't force yourself to reply too. he asked if you liked a jacket, you shrugged. asked about football, you said 'great'

finally, when he pulled up outside your house, home, he put the car in park but didn't turn off the engine.

"i'm serious, y/n" he said, hand still on the steering wheel like he might need to grip it to keep the conversation from drifting. "think about it please, they'd love to meet you."

you nodded slowly, "we'll see." it came out small, flat. a placeholder for all the thing you didn't know how to say.

you slipped out the car muttering a 'thank you' but before he could say more, you were heading up the driveway with quick steps and slipping through your front door like a ghost.

the front door creaked with the same familiar cream it always did. leah was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan which you knew she'd of been instructed to do by your mum. music drifting through the hallway, quiet but calm.

"hey, angel. you good?" leah called out, you nodded again, tossed your shoes by the door, alessia bundling down the stairs as she ruffled your hair a warm smile on her lips.

"lovie! how was your day?" she asked as she leant against the banister, you knowing she wouldn't drop it until you said something.

"fine" you said, dropping your bag by the stairs.

"did you go for food?" alessia asked, her eyebrows raising at your short answers and the way you were behaving.

"yeah." you hummed, one foot on the bottom step waiting for your exit to go straight to your room.

"you want tea?"

"i'm good." you didn't wait for more. just walked straight up to you room and closed the door with a quiet click.

leaving your mum at the bottom of the stairs, her being slightly confused at your quiet behaviour, usually you'd come home with a story or maybe at least complaining about your dad asking you a question about something you hadn't done since you were ten.

but today, nothing. silence. but alessia knew better than to push. you'd tell her eventually.

—

alessia waited. she didn't follow after you. didn't push. she never did. she left you in your room while her and leah ate tea together. a slight look of concern on leah's face when alessia told her to leave you when she asked if she should call you down for dinner.

but a few hours later, after you had spent most of the evening buried in your duvet with your headphones on, alessia knocked softly and poked her head in.

leah had taken the dog out. the house was still, humming only with the low buzz of the boiler and the occasional car passing outside.

"can i come in?" you shrugged glancing up at your mum as she poked her head through the door.  you were sat cross-legged, staring blankly at your phone screen. alessia walked in, sat on the edge of the bed like she always had since you were small.

"so how was today? with your dad."

alessia looked at the way your face changed at then mention of it. she could tell something was off. not just because you were quiet, but the way you moved as if your skin didn't quite fit right. your shoulders were tight, tense.

"hey" alessia said gently. "you okay?"

your eyes stayed on your phone screen, you having been doom scrolling for the past few hours trying to get rid of your thoughts however it was probably making them worse.

your jaw clenched once. then again. then— "he told me he has another family."

alessia's heart thudded, a pout forming over her lips, "lovie.."

"i have siblings," you snapped, you voice sharp. "siblings, mum. five and three. and tells me like it's some lovely fun little surprise over brunch!"

alessia's face dropped, she knew about harrison moving on with zoey, in a way she was delighted it had meant he wouldn't keep sticking his nose in her relationship with leah and she knew about louis.

not because she found out from harrison himself first (no surprise there) but, from one of harrison's friends she bumped into while doing a late shop one afternoon. harrison then telling her a few days later, alessia urging him to tell you but he promised he would when the time was right.

"wow. i-i didn't know about the three-year-old. just louis but that was years ago."

"you knew!?" your voice hitched as you head snapped to look at your mum. hurt blooming behind your eyes.

"i knew about louis and yeah we both knew about zoey, but i didn't know they'd had another child." alessia explained, her voice calm, too calm for your liking. with the way your chest felt like it was about to explode.

"and what? you didn't think to tell me?" you snapped, your voice dripping with bitterness but also hurt.

alessia took a slow breath, "it wasn't my place to say anything. at the end of the day lovie, he is your dad. it should've come from him."

your eyes flashed. "oh, come on. that's such a cop-out."

"no, i didn't mean it like that."

"then how did you mean it?" your voice rose, frustration starting to build. "cause right now it sounds a lot like you just didn't want to deal with it. just like he didn't either."

alessia flinched but she didn't move her eyes hardening. "hey, no, don't put me in the same category as him, lovie. i've been here. every day. for every meltdown, for every match, for every homework crisis."

you started pacing back and forth in your room. "yeah, you have. you've been here. and he's been off playing happy families with some other kids. buying them toys, tucking them into bed, going to their school plays, their out of school clubs—"

"you don't know that."

"i don't have to!" you nearly shouted. "cause i can guess. cause i know what it looks like when someone doesn't show up, and he's had plenty of practice."

alessia took a careful step forward wanting to try and help calm you down before you did something silly. "you're allowed to be upset. you're allowed to be angry."

"well, good. because i am." you said, voice cracking with each word. "he shows up once a month, if that, buys me lunch, asks me about school like he knows me, and then drops this on me like it's something i should be excited about."

you stop pacing and turned to your mum, eyes shining with unshed tears. "he said they want to meet me. that they know all about me. like i'm just some story that their dad tells sometimes at bedtime. like i'm not even a real person."

alessia's heart broke a little more with each word. "he should've told you a long time ago. but he also should have done a lot differently then he did when you were growing up."

your voice shook as you sniffled. "i spent years thinking i did something wrong. that i wasn't enough. that i was the problem. that if i'd been better—quieter, smarter, easier—maybe he'd have stayed, maybe he'd of made more of an effort to get to know me. and now i find out he did stay. just not for me."

"oh, lovie..."

"he just replaced me, mum. he left you, and then he replaced me. like i didn't even mean anything."

and that was it—the dam broke. your legs gave way as you collapsed onto the side of your bed, and the tears came hard, your chest heaving with the weight of everything you'd been holding in for years.

alessia was beside you in an instant, pulling you close, her arms wrapping tightly around you like a shield. alessia didn't speak right away. just held you. let you sob.

"i don't want to meet them," you whispered eventually, voice hoarse as tears still streamed down your face.

"you don't have to," your mum murmured against you. "you don't owe him anything. this isn't your responsibility."

"he said they'd love to meet me," you scoffed bitterly. "but they don't know me. i'm just a name. some girl he sees sometimes. i'm not part of his family. not really."

alessia pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. "then let's make something very clear—you do have a family. me. mama. this house. your many, many aunties. your friends. the people who show up. that's your family."

you nodded, barely. your hands clutched the hem of your mum's jumper.

"do you think it makes me a bad person for not wanting to see them?" you asked softly, slight hiccup coming from your lips.

"no," alessia said without a beat of hesitation. "it makes you honest. and human. and hurting. and that's perfectly okay."

your mum stood, slow and careful, like you might shatter if she moved too fast. "your allowed to be angry."

"i don't even know what i am." your hands were trembling now. "i'm not mad he has a family. i'm mad i'm not part of it. that i never was. that he never gave me the chance. that he never loved me, not properly."

flash— age four: harrison meeting you for the first time after walking away after alessia had told him she was pregnant. bringing a little teddy bear like it could fill four years of nothing.  you didn't even remember it—but you remember your mum's face when the door had closed again.

flash— age nine: he missed your school plays. said he had work, but you saw the tagged picture later on. a dinner. smiling. a different world.

flash— age twelve: he missed your birthday. fourteen: he never messaged to say congratulations on your first start for the england youth team.

flash — age sixteen: he said he'd take you out for dinner after your exams, you sat waiting for hours - he didn't even bother to call and cancel.

instead it was just a pattern of promises that never really included you.

alessia took a slow step closer as she knelt down in front of you, you sat looking at your hands in your lap. "you don't have to figure this all out today, lovie."

"i don't want to meet them," you said, voice still hoarse but still sharp. "i don't want to play happy families with strangers. i don't want to pretend i've ever been more than a once-a-month reminder for him."

alessia arms wrapped around you like muscle memory, strong and warm and safe. "and that's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. you have us. you always have and always will, that's never going to change."

you pressed your face into her mum's shoulder in front of you, letting the tears come again, now that you weren't pretending to be okay.

the front door opened. leah's voice floated in, as she called out, the sound of the dogs collar echoing as it shook itself in the hallway. "i'm backk!"

alessia looked over the top of your head, eyes soft as she whispered. "we'll get there. i've got you."

she stroked your hair gently as you curled into her side, exhausted and broken but safe. it wasn't fixed. not yet. and maybe wouldn't be for a while. but you had what mattered most. you had home.

[yuurei20]

Favorite Foods and Why: Pomefiore (⚠️ groovied card art below ⚠️)

Vil's favorite food is "homemade smoothies."

He makes smoothies for Rook and Epel with fruit from Sunset Savanna, explaining, "What we put in our bodies is just as important as what we put on them...These vitamin-rich smoothies are good for both your looks AND your health."

Vil mentions procuring smoothie ingredients in the Scalding Sands, a smoothie shop he likes in the Fairest City, green smoothies for daily vegetable intake and says that potionology techniques comes in handy for blending smoothies.

Vil says he normally has a custom smoothie every morning.

-

Rook's favorite food is live pâte. He explains, "To think a single dish could be both rustic AND refined at the same time... Ah, such a delicacy!"

-

When asked what his favorite food is Epel is happy to explain his love of yakiniku (written as both "grilled meat" and "barbecue" on EN):

Back home, we'd have barbecues where all the neighbors would turn out, grown-ups and young-uns alike. We'd take big ol' hunks'a meat and grill 'em over a charcoal fire. Finger food don't exactly make for fancy eatin', but BOY HOWDY is it a mighty fine meal! And then there's all the fresh veggies. They've got a natural sweetness to 'em. You can eat em straight off the grill without puttin' anything on 'em, and they're already perfect!

Realizing that he is saying something that Vil would not approve of Epel then follows with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons. They're...cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors. They're not very filling, but still."

Having a supposed love for macarons seems to be one of the ways Epel is learning to adapt to Pomefiore: when Epel first admits to Vil that his favorite food is yakiniku Vil rejects his response and orders him to come up with a favorite food that better suits their dorm.

Interestingly, Epel seems to have actually come up with the cover for macarons prior to his vignette with Vil: in Ace's ceremonial vignette, timed to take place after Vil has physically beaten Epel into submission but before their conversation at the dorm, it is possible that we see Epel come up with macarons as a response that he assumes would be expected of him.

And he is proven right, with Ace saying that he gives off the vibe of someone who would like macarons, and laughing aloud when Epel follows with "and yakiniku" for being in such a contrast to his appearance.

When Vil decides to get Epel macarons as a souvenir from the Fairest City Ace is surprised to hear that macarons are supposedly Epel's favorite food, saying that Epel has said he likes "more filling stuff," and especially barbecue, to which Vil responds, "Epel. Loves. Macarons. It seems he hasn't been forthcoming with that information. Well, that won't do. I'll have to have a talk with him when we're back at school."

When Epel is offered macarons during Glorious Masquerade he is less than thrilled, confusing Azul, who says that according to his "intel" macarons are supposed to be Epel's favorite food.

This was possibly a reference to Jade's ceremonial vignette where we see him provide Azul with a registry of all the first-year students, and take it upon himself to also procure information such as "home countries, hobbies, tastes, least favorite foods, and worst subjects."

[jennamoran]

Hi Jenna,

Do you have any specific tips to offer for writers? I feel like I can make the vibe of a scene come through very well, but the idea of what is actually happening suffers as a result.

I guess a more specific question might be 'How do you describe how something feels without the comprehension of the scene suffering, or becoming overly verbose.'

-Thanks, Skane

As the famously concise and universally comprehensible Jenna Moran,

First, I should say that you must write for yourself. Trying to be clear to a set of notional readers will not make your writing clear. It will make your writing convoluted and afraid, and even more people will misunderstand.

This is a problem. Sadly I cannot at this time fix the world.

You can try technical exercises. You can try having as many interesting conversations as you possibly can. You can look for a writing club of some sort.

It helps to be safe. If you cannot be safe, it may help to be angry.

It helps to be valued. If you don't have that, it may help to work with slow dedication and accept things take time.

It helps to have people read bits of your drafts and work and enjoy them. If you cannot have that, let yourself read and enjoy them yourself?

I do not have more direct solutions right now.

**

As to your specific concern:

I will give a bad solution. Then I will talk about it.

You can describe how something feels. Then, describe the scene. One, then the other. Both things are now perfectly clear.

... or as clear as you can make them.

There are two reasons that's usually bad. The first is pacing. The second is language.

Why would you want to describe them at the same time? Why not one, then the other?

Usually, because they are a single event.

We experience "this happens, and I feel this" simultaneously. So separating them when you write misstates the experience(s).

They're not just accidentally simultaneous. They intertwine.

Knowing that, it becomes false to present one, then the other. In a linear present-tense narrative that does a deep dive on both mood and action, we must first present the beginning of the conjoined mood/action experience. Then the next bit. Then the next, and on to the end.

If the reader becomes impatient, they become impatient with the experience. Loosely speaking, the fault may be in your choice of which events to describe, and in how much detail ... or in them.

If the reader cannot parse something, it is your description of that portion of the experience that they cannot parse. Loosely speaking, the fault may be in your wording, or in them.

If we look at what you must present as a stream of experiences, then in at least one sense it becomes simple:

Identify whose experiential stream you want to share. Think through what they experience as a set of sentence-sized pieces. Present them one by one.

Thus for pacing.

**

You may discover at this point that you still are not conveying the scene clearly. That is because what you believe you must convey is not part of the experience. Either change the story you are telling or switch to a narrator with the perspective you want.

You cannot tell this post's story in a way that reveals that I did not eat much breakfast. Not without kind of shoehorning it in. It is not part of this story, even if it possibly should be? My cat came in earlier and drooled on my arm. Shadows only exist in the light. Oatmeal often has gluten. People are good. They should love themselves. I don't even own a shoehorn. I want you to know these things. But telling you right then was a little bit weird.

**

Let's talk about language.

Language is an issue because it likes to do its own thing. You often want the words to echo the experience. You don't want to use the same words over and over again. (At least, not by accident.) You don't want the sentences to sound awkward. You want to pause at natural places but you have to keep your punctuation navigably close to "correct."

It's like, language writhes when you try to nail it down.

It writhes. It screeches and flails. It tears off bits of its skin. It's a problem. That is before we even get to how other people are understanding your words.

If I ever have problems just telling people what happens in order then that is usually why.

I think it can help to read things aloud. Often I replace what I wrote with what I say when I read it. For me, this is only useful poetically. For the technical side---whether I'm communicating too fast or too slow for a reader to follow---it does not help. I have to guess.

I can tell you from experience that you cannot be too obvious. Just being you, when your reader is not you, will add plenty of mystery. Oodles of mystery. You don't need to add any more.

I do not have a great solution for language. I'm sorry.

I don't even know which of my own tricks and habits brought me my audience and which of my tricks and habits drive people away.

If you are riding language and it shies away from the content you have to convey to the reader, probably you have to murder it and find a new, dumber steed. I'm sorry again. The rest of the time, you can maybe just have fun with the ride?

I wonder if it would be better to explicitly state that language is a horse in that metaphor. I probably shouldn't. It goes against my own advice.

So, a scene. Suppose I am eating a banana and I am sad. I expect I would walk to the fruit with a heavy heart. I would peel it. I would look at the inner fruit sadly. I would notice the pale yellow of its color. I would notice the texture. The pores. (Looks up banana images) The long, fuzzy lines. I'd take a bite. I'd eat it. Maybe someone talks in the distance. The banana would be gone. Maybe I'd just stand there a moment. Then I'd pull the trash can out and throw out the peel.

I do not think people will gather around and point at that in shock and call it great writing. I don't even know that it's better than "so, there I was, sadly eating a banana" or "it was the first banana I'd eaten since my grandmother died" or whatever. But I do think that is the correct sequence of experiences.

If I really wanted to talk about grief I'd want to talk about stillness and feelings like rolling clouds and stuff. If I really wanted to talk about eating bananas I'd try to find words for that dull shock of sweetness on the tongue, the way you roll the lump of the bite in your mouth. I can't imagine what would force me to talk about both at once but presumably I'd have to start blending the experiences (this is how you get smoothies).

**

I think I did eat a banana not that long after my grandmother died, for clarity. It was a while ago. I think there were clouds in my chest. Or the sea? I don't know. This constant rolling, shoving motion, soft as water and hard as water both. I don't remember much about the banana, so I can't tell you about peeling it, or about what most of it tasted like. I can't include that honestly because it's not part of the experience, right? And if like the reader doesn't know how bananas work they may be like "wait, aren't bananas in some kind of squishy rubbery casing? And you're just EATING one?" but I can't do anything about that, they just have to suffer in ignorance, they just have to suffer. It's not important to the moment when I ate a banana after my grandmother died that my cat came in years later and drooled on my arm. It's not important that I don't have a shoehorn. It's not important that I'd already eaten enough bananas in my life to know my way around removing the peel. (I'm so cool.) Those things were not part of that moment.

I think my hand was on the counter, which was blue. I think the sky outside the window was grey. I don't think I looked. I just think it was grey. And if you don't know why I had to pull the trash can out, or where the banana was before I got it, or---if anybody did talk in the distance---who might have been talking, or how many bites it took---it's because the only moment there that was actually part of the experience was that first bite, dull and sweet on my tongue.

[crazy-pages]

Yes ... and.

That's step one. Under controlled conversational conditions with someone who has a personal trusting relationship with you, where you are the only person talking to them and you can steer the conversation away from propaganda trigger words, you will get a lot of centrists and even conservatives in the United States to agree with progressive ideas that you present. This is a good thing, it's a validation of the fundamental tenet of progressive ideology, which is that progressive ideas would actually be good for most people in fairly intuitive ways, and that the non-intuitive ways can be backed up readily by argument and evidence.

This is a good thing, I do not want to undermine that! It's fantastic that this is the case!

But.

Unfortunately that has never been the hard problem when talking to centrists or conservatives about progressivism.

The problem is that they have a label which, when applied to progressive political beliefs, immediately turns off all interest and makes them dismissive or suspicious. And you are not going to be able to dodge the label on every issue. Lord knows the Democrats have tried, but this is the thing. Conservatives pundits can always just pick a fight for somebody's rights and then say that defending those rights is communist. Centrist pundits can always just pick a specific progressive economic issue and say it will hurt the economy, by which they mean the stock market.

And at that point you either have to actually pick the fight over people's rights ... or move right and abandon them. You have to actually challenge the stock market as a metric of economic health, or start watering down economic reforms until they are palatable to capitalist pundits (and therefore no longer powerful enough to drive enthusiasm based on raw visible results).

Being able to get somebody on board with the idea that progressive reforms will help their life it's like having a good serve in tennis. It's pretty important to playing the game. But tennis is a competitive sport. So what are you going to do when they return the ball?

And that's hard part of the problem. Sure you can get this person to side with these ideas in a controlled environment where you have control over what terminology is used and what associations are drawn. But can you get that person so invested in these ideas that they are going to keep holding to those ideas even once they are called socialist? Even once they are personally called socialist by other people they respect for believing in them?

If you can talk somebody around to public healthcare using the language of globalized business and corporate shareholders, but then bring it up with a parent who immediately calls it socialist ... well if you're talking about someone who would have immediately shot you down if you'd presented this idea as socialist, what are the odds they're going to defend something labeled as socialist? If they open the news to find that the political candidate you told them about who is advocating for public healthcare is also for publicly funded childcare programs and you're not there to coddle them past their trigger words, are they going to scoff in derision at the socialist politician and their absurd ideas? If public childcare is framed in the context of racist digs at "welfare queens", will their support for it hold up against any prejudices they might hold?

So long as someone has a mental off switch for ideas which are in their own self interest, or which defend other's human and civil rights, you cannot change their mind just by avoiding the off switch. Because other people will press that off switch for you.

You need to actually break the negative association. This is hard. There is no other option.

Presenting progressive ideas as centrist is one way that the first step to changing individual minds can happen. But it is not a viable political strategy. A political movement cannot centristly present its way into shifting the Overton window, because it will be challenged to put up and actually shift to the center (at which point you'll still be tarred as a Marxist commies anyway), or it will be forced into actually defending its ideas in a context where radical left labels are being applied.

If your ideas can only win support so long as no one says "socialist", there are legions of pundits who are oh so happy to scream "SOCIALISTSOCIALISTSOCIALIST!!!" at the top of their lungs. You cannot use centrist presentation to win support for ideas which can be torpedoed by calling them socialist, because politics is competitive and that's an easy win button for anyone who wants to fight your ideas.

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 7: Revelations

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

contains: bit of angst, fluff, alcohol, smoking, language, mention of past relationship trauma and cheating, tension..., also idk anything about poker but i tried my best 🙏

description: the truth about your past is finally revealed and you and sevika begin to move forward.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Sevika’s hand drops from her face, revealing eyes that now roam over your figure with a wary gaze.

“Everything ok?”

She looks at you expectantly and while you thought you were prepared for this conversation, there’s no way to predict how it will actually go.

You take a deep breath and decide to rip the band-aid off.

“I need to…tell you something. About what Vi said at dinner that day.”

Sevika’s expression immediately shifts to one of scrutiny as she raises an eyebrow at your bluntness.

“Okay.”

The two of you are only a few feet apart, but it suddenly feels like there are miles of space separating you as Sevika waits for you to continue, arms crossed over her chest. Her curt answer does nothing to quell your nerves but you push on, determined to see this through.

“Part of what she said was true. I was engaged, and it did end very messily, but because my fianceé cheated on me, not the other way around. I’m sure that’s what she told people to keep her reputation intact, but that’s not what happened.”

You watch the woman as you speak, her eyes slightly narrowing while she absorbs the information. Her stoic façade remains intact though, making it impossible to know how she’s taking it. As you’re talking, she continues to stare at you, your stomach twisting in knots as her gaze bores into you, searching for some sign of deception. The truth begins tumbling out and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

“One day a couple weeks before the wedding, I got an email from the planner pretty late, and I thought it was kind of weird, so I opened it.”

“It was,” you clear your throat to keep it from cracking, “a really long letter telling me that her and Gert were in love, and how she had been telling her for months that she was going to break off the engagement with me but she was waiting for the right time. The planner finally had enough and told me everything.”

Scoffing at how brazen the woman was, you continue.

“I emailed her back immediately saying she was lying and just trying to break up a happy home, and then she sent me screenshots and screen recordings of their conversations.”

At this point, your eyes are starting to water and Sevika looks concerned but doesn’t interrupt.

“Like that wasn’t bad enough, she sent me…pictures, of them together, over a year’s worth.”

The anger in your voice is apparent, your volume increasing as emotion starts to get the better of you. You don’t even notice how tight your fists have clenched until you try to take a breath to steady yourself. Sevika does notice though, her eyes drifting down to your shaking hands, before returning to your face.

“Turns out, she was having an affair with that bitch the entire time. They were already sleeping together before we even got engaged, but Gert had the balls to tell me they were old friends and hire her for our wedding.”

You’re suddenly overly aware of Sevika’s eyes on you, knowing that she’s analyzing every word and movement. She’s yet to say anything, the silence feeling like even longer than it actually is. You press on, knowing it’s too late to turn back now.

“I was a mess after that, I couldn’t even think straight, I locked myself in the guest bedroom and didn’t come out for hours. My friends kept calling, asking me if everything was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.”

Wiping a tear away, you look down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“I confronted her with the evidence, and she didn’t even deny it. She told me it was a mistake and that she regretted it, but that was obviously a lie.”

Pulling out your phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and log into the email account you haven’t accessed in years.

“I kept all of the emails to this day, I’m not even sure why. No one besides me has ever seen them but I feel like this is important enough to show you.”

Handing the phone to Sevika, she grabs it gingerly as she begins to scroll, absorbing every word on the screen. As she reads over the long-winded exchanges, her face betrays nothing, hard lines and slight wrinkles unmoving. Her eyes burn into the screen, taking in the words as your entire body tenses up. You’ve never felt this vulnerable around anyone, and the thought of her not believing you causes your chest to ache. Luckily, the photos were in a separate thread but this one had all the initial exchanges, including the texts.

Finally, Sevika raises her gaze to you, the eye contact making your heart pound furiously in your chest. She sets your phone on the desk next to her slowly, the metallic sound reverberating through the silent room. Anxiety gets the better of you and you continue spilling all of your thoughts.

“I wanted to explain why I left to her daughter at least, but Gert obviously wouldn’t let me, and what hurt me the most was to have to leave a girl I basically helped raise. She was a little older than Isha when I came into the picture, and we were glued at the hip from the first time we met. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Her eyes flick between yours, the exact grey of a cloud on the precipice of a storm. You feel as if she’s reading your very soul, everything she needs to know displayed in your desperate face. Taking a deep breath, you look directly at Sevika and let a final sentence fall from your lips.

“I hope you understand that even though my past is complicated, I’m not someone that you or your girls have to keep your distance from.”

Letting out a long sigh, Sevika’s gaze remains firmly planted on you. She knows the look of a heartbroken person well, and she can see the emotion clearly in your eyes. Coupled with the date stamps on those emails, she knows you’re telling the truth. She begins walking over and your anxiety builds until you feel something press into your palm. Looking down, you see that she’s given your phone back but your stomach squirms when she makes no move to distance herself.

You don’t know how to describe the look in Sevika’s eyes but whatever it is causes your stomach to flutter and your spine to tingle. Her hand remains on yours as she speaks, the touch electrifying, causing currents of energy to run through your body.

“You didn’t deserve any of that. If your ex couldn’t see what she had right in front of her, then that’s her loss.”

You open your mouth to speak but words fail you, a shaky breath leaving your chest as you take in what she said. You’ve heard similar statements before, from friends and family, but it felt different coming from Sevika. Everything did.

She continues staring at you intensely, and for a moment, you’re stunned by her focus. She notices your expression and her lips quirk slightly, the most she’s smiled this entire time, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

A heavy thud in the hallway causes both of your heads to snap in the direction of the noise, Sevika taking a step back from you and the bubble of tension now broken.

Powder and Vi walk into view shortly after, sporting matching blushes and nervous smiles.

“Hey guys…”, they say simultaneously.

Sevika shifts to look at the two girls and arches an eyebrow at them, knowing her daughters well.

“How much of that did you two hear?”

Both of them remain silent, shuffling awkwardly and refusing to look at Sevika, or you. The woman next to you sighs and shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest as she waits for an answer, the two girls giving up once Sevika clears her throat. Powder speaks up first, shifting her weight and turning to look at the ground.

“A lot…”

Sevika is scowling now, irritated that they were both eavesdropping on her conversation and ruined the moment you two were having. Anger laced in her voice, she starts scolding them.

“What have I told you about listening in on my private conversations? We’ve talked about boundaries plenty of times before!”

Vi is now looking up at Sevika nervously and responds with a pleading tone.

“I promise it wasn’t on purpose! We were coming back and heard you guys talking and I was gonna walk in like normal but then Powder put her hand over my mouth and pulled me toward the wall cause she wanted to hear what you guys were saying, and then—”

“That’s not true! I grabbed you because I wanted them to keep talking, and good thing I did because I was right, Teach isn’t a cheater!”

Powder rolls her eyes at her sister while you’re standing there dumbfounded and Sevika is fuming. She looks like she’s about to explode, clearly not in the mood for excuses when your voice cuts through the tension, saving the two girls from receiving her wrath.

“It’s alright!” You rush out, holding your hands out as a sign of peace. Sevika’s gaze flicks over to you briefly, a look of confusion flashing on her face, before staring at her daughters again, clearly upset.

“I was hoping to also tell you girls eventually,” with a lot less details, you think, “but you know now, so…it is what it is, I guess.”

A nervous smile spreads across your face as you look between the three of them, hoping this would calm things down between Sevika and the girls.

Sevika’s eyes sharpen at your words but she takes a deep breath, reigning in her temper. It looks like she’s going to say something but decides to remain silent instead, her attention now focused solely on you. Powder and Vi look properly reprimanded, not wanting to cause any more trouble. They exchange a look between each other before Vi speaks up again, her guilt getting the best of her.

“So…Gert was the one that cheated on you.”

Your mouth twists at that, thinking of how to respond. You had planned a very watered down version of the story in case you ever told the girls, exactly because of this. Vi being friends with Gert’s daughter complicated things tenfold, and even though you hated the woman, you would never speak about her to Vi the way you did to Sevika. With the cat now out of the bag, you have no other option but to tell the truth.

“Yeah. I didn’t talk to her friends or family after everything happened, so she must’ve told them a version that didn’t paint her as the bad guy.”

Vi’s head drops to look at her shoes, a shaky exhale leaving her body. She takes a moment to collect herself before looking back up at you, eyes faintly glistening with unshed tears.

“I’m…so sorry. Powder was telling me since the beginning that I had it wrong but I didn’t wanna believe that. I accused you of something you didn’t do and almost ruined your relationship with Sev, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

At the mention of the word relationship, you look around embarrassingly, fidgeting with your clothes while Sevika begins to cough, turning away as she gets it under control. You walk up to Vi and awkwardly place your hand on her shoulder, forcing a smile as you pat it.

“I get it, you were just protecting your family, I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. No hard feelings, I promise.”

The girl nods and shoots you an appreciative half smile before you step away and slide your hands into your back pockets. Powder speaks up a moment later, feeling out the now calm vibe of the room.

“So…does this mean you’re allowed to start coming over for dinner again?”

Glancing at Sevika in your peripheral, your mouth opens before your brain can catch up, heat creeping towards your face.

“I mean, um, that would be more your mom’s decision, so—“

“That’s fine with me.”

Three pairs of eyes dart over to the woman next to you, one with surprise that she answered so quickly, and two with a knowing look at why she did. Sevika’s gaze bounces between all of you, clearing her throat before trying to explain.

“The girls really missed you and they’ve been saving movies to watch in case you came over, so, it only makes sense.”

A bashful smile now adorns your face as you slowly nod, a warmth spreading throughout your chest. You had missed Sevika, of course, but you longed for the days when you felt like another member of her tight knit family. Looking at the woman with a sparkle in your eye, you respond happily.

“Great, that sounds…great.”

Now that the conversation has died down, a bit of an awkward air settles among the room as all of you think about how to segway to another topic. Sevika breaks the silence first, deciding she needs to have a moment to herself after such a heavy conversation.

“So, we should probably head home, Isha’s definitely tried giving Caitlyn another makeover by now and it’s only a matter of time before she wears her down.”

You chuckle at that, imagining the scenario and remembering when Isha did something similar to you.

“Yeah, of course. See you guys tomorrow then?”

Sevika weakly nods as Powder walks over and hugs you tightly, glad that everyone now knows what she felt all along.

“Come over soon, okay?”

Pulling back from the hug, you look at Powder and smile.

“You got it, kid.”

The teenager squeals as she moves towards the door where Sevika and Vi are now standing. You look at both of them before landing on Sevika who has a ghost of a smile on her face as she tells you “Have a good night, miss.”

Smiling, you return the gesture before she walks out, Powder and Vi following, the older of the two smiling at you and sheepishly waving before disappearing.

Now alone, you let out a deep sigh, your body suddenly feeling tired. The conversation went better than you expected, minus the girls overhearing, but all of the anxiety surrounding the situation left you exhausted. You slowly gather your things, thinking about where things are headed from here. Sevika was okay with you coming around them again, and as much as you wished you could be satisfied with that, you wanted…more.

Groaning, you start rubbing your temples, feeling a headache come on. Telling yourself you only wanted to be friends worked when you were unsure if she would believe you about the Gert situation, but now that she had, it was only going to get harder and harder to fool yourself. You decide to head home and see if your roommates are there for you to bounce your thoughts off of, needing to know if you are as crazy as you feel.

Your drive home is short and blissfully quiet, with your thoughts beginning to run amok. You think about what Sevika told you, about your ex not deserving you, and your mind desperately tries to not get ahead of itself. You can’t go a second without thinking about the soft expression on her face, your feelings threatening to overwhelm you.

Unfortunately, the house seems to be empty when you arrive. Tossing your keys into the bowl, you kick off your shoes and walk into the living room, collapsing face first into a couch cushion. You roll onto your back, clutching a pillow as you replay the entire afternoon in your head. Would something have happened if the girls hadn’t walked in? Sevika was never one to do something accidental, she was a very deliberate woman, and the way she was touching your hand…

Your thoughts are interrupted by soft footsteps approaching the living room. You sit up slightly to see your roommate walking in with headphones on and looking down at her phone. After yelling her name a couple of times, that fails to get her attention so you decide to throw a pillow at her.

“Holy shit!”

She screams as she yanks her headphones off and clutches her chest, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t see you under all that, what the fuck!”

You’re laughing now, hands up to show her you meant no harm.

“I’m sorry! I was calling you but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as she plops down next to you, leaning her head back on the couch and clutching her forehead.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“My bad.”

Leaning your head on her shoulder, you squeeze her thigh apologetically. After a minute, you sit back up and turn your body towards her.

“So…I did what you said and showed Sevika the texts.”

Her eyes widen as she puts her phone down, giving you her undivided attention.

“Oh shit, how did that go?”

“Really well, actually. She didn’t say anything when I was explaining, even when I showed her the emails, but at the end, she told me that I didn’t deserve what happened and that if Gert couldn’t see what she had, then it was her loss.”

Your friend gasps as she clutches your hand.

“Wait, that’s really good!”

You look down at your lap bashfully, absorbing her excitement.

“And then she kind of held my hand when she gave my phone back.”

That gets a very excited scream from your friend.

“Girl, this is great news, she wants you!”

Scratching at your neck, you continue explaining what happened after that.

“The only thing is, her daughters overheard our conversation.”

That instantly calms her down and she’s now looking at you with a confused expression.

“What?! How?”

“They had left to go look at something and when they got back, Powder kept Vi in the hallway so we could keep talking, then something must’ve fallen cause there was a loud noise and they walked in all embarrassed.”

At this point your friend’s eyes are wide with surprise, not expecting your conversation to end like that. She sits in silence for a second, mulling over everything you said before raising a questioning brow at you.

“So, they know everything?”

“Most of it,” You shrug, now biting your lip.

“More than I would’ve liked them to find out, for sure.”

“Well, maybe it's a good thing, right? They’re old enough to understand things like that.”

Your friend tries her best to reassure you and you’re grateful for it, knowing how you can sometimes spiral.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you continue talking for well over an hour, your friend eventually grabbing two glasses of wine to relax among all the news. You vent about how nervous you were showing Sevika the emails and both of you rehash old relationship worries. By the end of the conversation, you feel a bit more confident about the situation.

“So you’re definitely in the clear to get in with her now.”

Blowing out a puff of air, a smile cracks through your attempt at nonchalance and you attempt to hide it by covering your face.

“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve had a crush, I feel like a teenager again.”

“Isn’t it kind of fun though? Especially with someone that looks like her.”

You push her shoulder at that, both of you laughing.

“I tried for a while to tell myself friendship was enough, but…I like her.”

“Aww, of course you do!”

She wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

“I’m so happy for you, I know this weighed on you a lot. You deserve to be happy and I’m glad it’s finally starting to happen.”

Tucking your face into her shoulder, your eyes begin to get misty. As much as you’ve tried telling yourself that over the last few years, it feels like it’s starting to become reality.

“I really hope so.”

At her house, Sevika is having a similar conversation on the phone with Vander. Standing in the garage, she’s smoking a cigaratte and blowing the smoke towards the cracked garage door as her best friend is giving her his thoughts on the situation.

“It sounds bad to say, but I’m glad Vi was wrong. I really like that girl for you, Sev, I got a good feeling about her.”

Chuckling, she shakes her head as she brushes her hair out of her face. She didn’t tell Vander any details out of respect for you, only that the situation’s been cleared up and you’re back in her good graces.

“God, I thought I was out of the game for good. I’m too grown for shit like this.”

Vander belly laughs at that.

“These things happen when you least expect it, Sev. Take it in stride.”

Putting out her cigarette, she mumbles an agreement and ends the call a few minutes later, deciding she wants some reading time before bed, thoughts of you plaguing her mind the entire way.

That week ends up being extremely busy for you and Sevika, so much so that you haven’t been able to have dinner at her house. That changes Friday afternoon when you get a voice note from her asking if you’d like to come over later for dinner. It takes everything in you not to answer too eagerly, replying with a calm That sounds good :).

Now with that to look forward to, the rest of the day breezes by and eventually it’s time for Powder to get picked up after working on her project. Right on cue, Sevika walks in, and you have to fight to keep your eyes in your head.

Her trusty leather jacket makes a reappearance, over a fitted white henley you’ve never seen, buttons undone just enough to tease a perfectly sculpted clavicle. Paired with a loose fit pair of jeans and black combat boots, she looks the very picture of heartthrob.

Powder drops something on the floor and it’s then that you realize you’ve been staring unabashedly. Clearing your throat, Sevika walks over to you unexpectedly, carrying something in her hand. When you see that it’s a helmet, you swear you almost faint. Of course she has a goddamn motorcycle.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Sevika is wearing a mostly neutral expression, only a hint of a smile playing at her lips, and you’re trying your hardest to match it.

“I know I invited you for dinner tonight, and that’s still on, but me, Vander and Silco were gonna have our poker night afterwards. If you’re interested.”

The moment hangs in the air as she waits for your answer. You’ve never mentioned being into cards or anything like that, but she hopes you’ll accept the offer anyway.

“I’d love to.”

A smile lights up your face, your hands clasped in front of you as you continue. So much for keeping it cool.

“I’m not very good at poker, but that sounds like fun.”

Sevika lets out an internal sigh of relief, even though you hadn’t yet turned down an activity she mentioned, she was still nervous, especially because other people were involved.

“Great. We’re gonna head to the house from here, but you come over whenever you’re ready. And you don’t have to bring anything this time, really.”

You cluck your tongue, looking at her with a mischievous expression.

“I’ll see about that.”

Sevika bites her lip, looking away from you but the action captures all of your attention. When she turns back to you, your staring contest with her mouth ends and you suddenly become interested in something on the wall.

Powder walks over at that very moment, a knowing glint in her eye that you and Sevika both pretend not to notice.

“I’m ready, mom.”

Nodding at her daughter, Sevika moves to step towards you before correcting herself and pretending she was just shuffling her feet.

“Right. So, we will see you in a bit?”

“Yup! I’ll walk with you guys, I’m ready to head out too.”

Truthfully, you could’ve stayed a few more minutes to organize your desk before Monday but the chance to see Sevika drive off on her motorcycle was too enticing to pass up.

You walk towards the door with your bags, shutting off all of the lights and holding it open for Powder and Sevika to walk out, locking it behind you. When the three of you reach the exit to the parking lot, Sevika pushes it open and stands off to the side.

“After you.”

Powder can only shake her head, heading out first before you brush past Sevika, eyes almost fluttering shut at her aroma. Once in the lot, you see that she parked directly next to you and walk up to her bike, admiring the way it shines.

“It’s beautiful.”

You look back at Sevika, who looks very proud.

“Thank you. Finished fixing her up a month ago, but it’s been raining too much to ride until this week.”

She walks over to the back of the motorcycle and pops the seat, grabbing another helmet and placing it on Powder’s head. As she does, her jacket lifts and a sliver of her toned lower stomach is exposed where her shirt folded under itself.

After situating her own helmet, Sevika turns to you to say goodbye when she sees the dazed look on your face. Still staring, you’re playing with the car keys in your hand, the most distracted you’ve ever been.

“You okay?”

That instantly snaps you out of your daze, flames licking at your face.

“Yeah! Just thinking about something I have to do before going over.”

You smile at the woman, hopefully distracting her from the fact that you were just openly ogling her. Again. Behind her, you see Powder covering her mouth, most likely hiding a laugh, and groan to yourself.

“Okay then, drive safe.”

She swings her leg over the seat, Powder getting on behind her as Sevika turns the bike on and revs the engine. Nodding at you once, she pulls the visor of her helmet down and drives off, leaving you behind to collect yourself.

“Shit.”

When you arrive at her house a short while later, you make quick work of getting to the porch, eager to get out of the cold. Ringing the doorbell once, only a few seconds pass before the door opens and Vi is standing before you.

“Oh, hi Vi.”

You smile at the girl before she ushers you inside, offering to take your coat. After handing it to her, she sees the bottle in your hand and asks if you want her to grab it from you.

Laughing lightly, you tell her, “No, that’s okay, I don’t want your mom to think I’m giving you something to drink.”

You quickly add on, “We’ll wait until after she goes to bed,” with a wink.

Vi actually chuckles, and you feel proud. You definitely have to build a rapport with her the way you have with her sisters, but you decide to start right away. She leads you into the kitchen where the table is fully set, and a memory of the last time you were here hits you like a train. Clearing your head, you look around for Sevika before seeing her walking in your direction.

Before she can reach you, you extend your hands, presenting her favorite whiskey.

“You didn’t.”

A smile disguising itself as shyness spreads across your face as you reply.

“Of course I did, I never agreed to come empty handed.”

Shaking her head as she takes it from you, Vander and Silco walk over, shaking your hand as you greet each other.

“Good to see you again— Oh!”

Vander reaches for the bottle that Sevika is cradling, grabbing it and inspecting the label.

“Sev, you didn’t say she had such good taste.”

He smirks at her and you pretend not to notice the way she looks down, avoiding your eyes.

“Easy, babe.”

Silco rubs Vander’s shoulder as he directs him towards the table where the girls are starting to sit down. When they notice you, they greet you with hugs, Isha pulling you to sit next to her. Even Caitlyn openly waves to you, no longer worried about Vi’s glare.

Everyone takes their places and starts serving themselves, conversation flowing easily. You spend the first few minutes a bit anxious that something similar to last time will happen, but eventually, that feeling is replaced by a relaxed one.

When dinner ends, the girls head to Powder’s room and you head to the couch, chatting with Vander and Silco as Sevika cleans up the kitchen. A few minutes later, she walks over holding the bottle you brought and a deck of cards.

“Who’s ready to lose?”

Smirking at her two best friends, her eyes land on you and her gaze softens just enough to be noticeable. You stand and lightly stretch your limbs, trying to expel a bit of nervous energy that returned with Sevika’s presence.

“Take it easy on me, okay, public school teachers don’t make much, I promise.”

Vander cackles like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and the two of you follow Sevika and Silco to the garage where the table’s already set up. Taking your seats, the two husbands sit across from each other, already sizing each other up and trying to psych each other out.

Hearing music suddenly playing, you turn around to see Sevika fiddling with a stereo system, holding a CD case. When she’s done, she strolls over and takes her seat across from you, reaching behind herself to set the case back on the shelf.

“Hope you like Coldplay.”

“You a big fan?”

Two groans come from the men on either side of you, confusing you.

“Please don’t get her started. She’s dragged us with her to see them live six different times. I like them, don’t get me wrong, but six is excessive, they only have so many songs!”

Silco’s explanation makes you giggle while it gets an eye roll from Sevika. Looking towards her, your curiosity begins to grow.

“You like them that much?”

The woman splays her hands across her thighs and shrugs.

“Their music’s gotten me through a lot. I haven’t been able to see them the last few times they were here, but I still listen to them all the time.”

Bobbing your head, you think it’s endearing how much she likes them and decide to indulge her.

“That’s really nice, actually. I’ve never been able to see them live, but I’ve heard great things.”

Her gaze flicks up to you, a hopeful look in it.

“You’re a fan?”

Shaking your head side to side, you tell her, “Not as much as you, but I listen to them often enough.”

A shy smile creeps up her face and she looks down at her hands as she begins shuffling the cards.

“That’s cool.”

Vander and Silco are watching the entire interaction with rapt attention, they knew Sevika had a thing for you, but this was more than they expected. Standing up, Vander grabs the whiskey from behind you and raises it to get everyone’s attention.

“Drink, anyone?”

Sevika and Silco both nod and Vander shifts his gaze to you. Deciding it’s a special occasion, you agree and he heads to the bar next to the fridge to retrieve some glasses. When he returns, he sets one down in front of each of you, pouring a generous amount in the others until he reaches you. He gets to less than half of what’s in the other glasses before Sevika cuts him off.

“Not too much, Van, you trying to kill her?”

Looking at your drink, it’s definitely more than you would’ve poured but you know you can handle yourself.

“Sorry! I forget not everyone drinks like a mechanic.”

Smiling apologetically, Vander caps the bottle and puts it away, sitting back down and looking at Sevika.

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

Sevika looks up at you through her bangs as she deals the cards.

“How much you know about poker?”

Glancing around, you clench your hands, trying to not seem nervous.

“Mm, not much, to be honest. There’s 5 cards per player, right? And the goal is to have the best hand possible.”

The three other people at the table internally chuckle at your naivety. They're going to eat you alive.

Sevika agrees to let you have a couple practice rounds so you can get a feel for the game, and only when you insist on playing for real does she stop holding back.

“If you say so.”

She smirks as she deals again, she almost felt bad for how this was going to go, but this was your choice and she was going to give you what you asked for. You end up with a straight, and though it was better than everyone was expecting, it wasn’t good enough to win. Huffing, you sit up in your chair as you take a swig of your whiskey, the burn in your throat only spurring you on.

“I think I got the hang of it now.”

Laughing under her breath, Sevika thinks the determination on your face is adorable, and the alcohol in her system isn’t helping. Going again, you end up with the same hand as before, more and more chips slowly disappearing from your stack.

The drinks are serving their purpose now, jokes and laughs coming out much easier than before. You find out that Vander and Silco have been together almost ten years, their anniversary coming this summer. They tell you the story of how they met at work, and you coo as they relay the details of how it was mainly Sevika’s doing. She makes a couple comments towards you that could be taken as flirtatious, but you pass them off as effects of the alcohol.

When your foot bumps hers, you shoot her a quick apology, and she accepts it with a small smile. When it happens again a couple of minutes later, you apologize again but she only nods, pinning you to your seat with her gaze. You try to focus on the story Silco is telling, something about a vacation, but your breath catches in your throat when you feel two legs slide on either side of yours, trapping your calf between them.

Quickly glancing at Sevika, she’s no longer looking at you but at Silco, fully engaged in his story. You move to pull away from her, sure it was an accident, when her grip tightens and she hooks one foot behind yours, leaving no room for doubt. She’s definitely flirting with you.

Alarm bells start going off in your head, you never considered what you would actually do in the event that Sevika returned the sentiment. The two men are seemingly unaware of what’s going on under the table and you’d like to keep it that way. You turn your leg to the right, pressing it into Sevika to test out her reaction. You’re rewarded with a sharp inhale that you only notice because your eyes are locked onto her full lips.

The moment unravels when you hear Vander call your name, forcing your gaze to the expectant look on his face.

“Sorry, what was that last part?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever ridden a motorcycle before.”

Sevika suddenly notices the lack of music playing and gets up to change CDs, taking the warmth against your lower half with her.

“Oh, yeah, um, no, no I haven’t.”

Giving him a tight smile, Sevika returns with a cigar between her lips, offering the box around the table while Vander keeps talking.

“Ah, it’s amazing. The three of us used to do an annual bike ride through the country, just us and the open road for weeks. Nothing like it.”

After everyone but you takes one, she walks over to the garage door to crack it open, making sure to turn up the space heater before sitting back down. Sevika clips her cigar and lights it, blowing a perfect ring on the first try. The alcohol is definitely affecting you now because as you watch the smoke leave her mouth, you wish you were in its place.

You decide you need to sober up a bit before your inside thoughts make their way out of your mouth. Standing up with the slightest wobble, the entire table stops what they’re doing and looks at you with varying degrees of amusement.

“I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.”

Walking into the house and heading straight for the bathroom, you shut the door and lock it before turning to the sink and pulling the handle for cold water. Cupping your hands under the faucet, you rub the cool liquid over your face and take a deep breath. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the slight glossiness in your eyes and giggle to yourself. Was this really happening?

After a few minutes of breathing exercises, and actually peeing, you feel a bit more yourself, opening the door before immediately running into something.

“Oh shit, sorry, I was just about to knock.”

You step back in a daze before your eyes focus to see a sheepish Sevika standing in the doorway.

“You’ve been gone for a bit so I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

Her hands are stuffed into her pockets and she’s looking at you with worry etched into the slight crease between her brows. You start to feel unsteady again, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I’m okay, just needed to wake up a little. That whiskey is stronger than it looks.”

A chuckle escapes her parted lips and the piercing underneath them suddenly looks enticing. Stepping forward to place a foot between hers, mirroring her move from earlier, you lean in the slightest bit before watching her eyes drop to your mouth as she replies.

“Yeah, it’s kicked my ass more than once…”

“Mm, I thought you could handle your liquor.”

Both of you continue to lessen the gap, pulled together as if by magnets.

“I can, but sometimes I like to test my limits.”

“Is that so?”

Your chests are almost touching, heavy breaths mixing into the space between you. Right when you’re about to close the distance, a door down the hall creaks open and you hear giggling, footsteps coming closer until they stop right outside the bathroom.

“Oh shit.”

Standing straight up, Sevika is glaring at Vi and Caitlyn as you lean your forehead against the doorframe, sure this is some sort of punishment from a past life.

“Where do you girls think you’re going?”

It’s then that you turn to see the keys dangling from Vi’s hand.

“Uh, we were just gonna go to the store for some snacks. For the movie we’re all watching?”

Both pairs of eyes flicker between you and Sevika, cogs turning as they realize they just walked in on something.

“But we can head back to the room, no worries, we can watch the movie without them.”

They turn back the way they came, mumbling apologies as Sevika hangs her head and groans.

“I just want five minutes without interruptions, that’s it.”

You giggle at her confession, though you wished for the same. Taking it as a sign to head back to the garage, you squeeze past Sevika, fingers brushing hers and you could almost swear you feel them twitch.

Walking back to the table, you feel Sevika’s eyes on your back the entire way and only because you reach Vander and Silco’s line of sight do you not turn around and pull her towards you. She slowly takes her seat in front of you, making a show of it because she knows you’re watching.

“Last round before we call it a night?”

Vander looks around the table to sense the vibe. He and Silco have been waiting for an opening to leave without interrupting whatever was going on with you and Sevika for over half an hour. You smile and nod, thinking it’s probably late for them to still be awake. Sensing that it’s finally time to execute your plan, you calmly call out, “Winner take all?”

You’re met with three confused glances. The girl who’s been losing all night wants to bet everything she has left? It isn’t a lot, they’ll admit but never one to pass up an opportunity to make some money, they all agree.

Sevika deals, a curious gleam in her eye as she watches you. Not seeing any tells, she focuses on her hand and looks around the table, confident with what she has.

“Fuck.”

A groan leaves Vander as he pushes his cards into the middle of the table.

“Fold.”

Crossing his arms and finishing his drink, he sets it onto the table with some force, more annoyed that he lost to his husband than anything. Silco grins, even if he doesn’t win the hand, beating Vander is enough for him. He lays his cards on the table with a flourish, calling out “Full house, baby.”

A huff escapes Sevika as she looks down at her hand.

“Damn. I only have a…” setting down her hand slowly to build suspense, “straight flush.”

Once you suck your teeth and sigh, Sevika grins and starts collecting the chips on the table, pulling the piles towards herself before asking what you have.

“Ugh, I don’t remember what it’s called.”

Setting down the cards one by one, each reveal causes everyone’s jaws to drop a little more as realization settles in.

“A royal flush?”

A wicked smile spreads onto your face as you sit back, absorbing the big reveal. Exhaling dramatically, you lean forward after a moment and start grabbing your winnings, the only noise in the room being the clack of plastic chips and the muted soundtrack of Coldplay.

“I can’t believe you just hustled me.”

Sevika is looking at you with a shocked, yet proud, look on her face and all you do is shrug.

“I can’t believe you just let it happen.”

A low chuckle leaves Vander as he scans his best friend’s face, thinking She may have finally met her match.

As you all stand from the table, he pulls out his wallet, grabbing your winnings and handing them to you before you raise a hand up, declining.

“No need. Seeing the look on all of your faces was payment enough.”

He claps a hand on your shoulder, peering past you before speaking.

“I really do like this one.”

He finishes his sentence with a pointed look towards the woman, emphasizing his comment from their earlier conversation.

“We’re gonna head out, don’t worry about locking up Sev, I still have my key. You two have a good night, now.”

Shaking his head and laughing to himself, Vander walks inside, closely followed by Silco, the two of them discussing their admiration for your style of play. Once you and Sevika are alone, you swing back to face her, much more confident than you were upon arriving earlier.

“Next time, we’re playing for real money. Now that you know how good I am and all that.”

Grinning at the woman in front of you, the look on her face can only be described as awe.

“I don’t enjoy being tricked, you know that?”

Glancing around the room, you purposely avoid eye contact for a few seconds before looking at Sevika.

“I get that, but I think you like a challenge.”

A sharp exhale is the only response you get before you reach out, hand grazing hers with a purpose. You were just full of surprises today.

The door to the house suddenly opens, revealing a tired Isha who's rubbing her eyes and carrying her stuffed monkey towards you both. Trying to blink away the sleep, she looks toward an exasperated Sevika, no clue what she’s just done. When she signs Can I sleep with you? I had a bad dream, the woman can only sigh. Isha’s nightmares could get pretty intense so she instantly feels bad and scoops the girl into her arms.

Are the others asleep?

After nodding, the girl tucks her face into Sevika’s neck, already starting to doze off.

“That’s definitely my cue to leave.”

You step towards the two and gently lay a hand on Isha’s back, feeling the warmth exuding from her small frame. Looking at Sevika, you give her a small smile before telling her you’ll see her later and moving in the direction of the door. She vigorously shakes her head before stepping into your path.

“Let me walk you out, at least.”

Agreeing to that, you make your way inside to the front, slipping your shoes on, then your coat, before facing Sevika. She’s sporting the slightest pout and you almost reach over Isha to kiss it away.

“See you next week, yeah?”

Nodding with a tired sigh, she looks at you before moving to embrace you as best she can. You take what you can get, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around Isha, reaching for the woman's shoulder. After reluctantly letting go, you open the door, Sevika holding it as you walk out and angling her body to shield Isha from the cold.

“Text me when you get home, please,” she calls out as you head down the driveway.

Turning around, you give her a thumbs up, too wired to give her a verbal response. Once you’re in the car, Sevika closes the door but continues to watch from the window while you warm up your car, taking off a couple minutes later with a frazzled wave.

The drive home is silent. You couldn’t even bring yourself to play any music, the replay of the night making plenty of noise in your head. Only realizing how late it is when you arrive and see the lack of any lights inside, you tiptoe through the quiet house, reaching your room and closing the door as gently as possible.

Leaning against the door, you let out the breath you’ve been holding since leaving Sevika’s house. We almost kissed. Twice. You cover your face with your hands as you let out a muffled shriek, giddy and excited for what’s to come for the first time in a very long while.

taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther @bebadoobie @nymanas @dyketoast

[lavenderhateswritting]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTj6S4hus/ This is any of the marks if reader doesn’t answer them because they are doing hero stuff or just working btw

Sinester, Eyeless, and Mohawk my loves

Sinister Mark

~ His first reaction when you miss his call is usually to just go wherever you are and "handle" whatever is keeping your attention

~ He has just appeared wherever you are and killed the villain you're fighting or jumped into the conversation you were holding. Sometimes you'll not even notice he's called you until he is just standing in front of you

~ He doesn't care if you find it weird either he actually finds it annoying that you made him take the extra effort to have to come find you. Could he just text you and wait for you to finish what you're doing? Of course, but he's never going to do that.

"Why didn't you answer my call" he was standing in front of you with his arms crossed covered head to toe in blood. He hadn't even had the decency to change into his superhero suit. "I was busy fighting the monster you just gutted" he looked over at the creature who he had just ripped the heart of as if it was nothing. "Don't be ridicoluos that thing was like an ant you could have finished this fight in 5 minutes." He looked huffy even though the last time you said that he threw a fit. "Cecil wanted to take this thing in alive." "Yeah well I wanted to talk to my partner and not have to come out here to the middle of nowhere." Sometimes this man pushed you to your limits. "Fine what did you need Mark" He looked at you without a hint of irony or shame and said : "I wanted to know if you wanted me to get Chinese food before you came home"

Eyeless Mark (20/20)

~ Such a whiny brat.

~ He stews in whatever made him mad and when you ignore his phone calls he definitely just sits at home stewing in how you've ignored him and how he's basically nothing to you.

~ You will come home to the silent treatment and passive agressive bullshit that you're going to have to be super nice to him and suck up to him to get him out of it.

"Mark, come on. I said I was sorry." You watched as he continued to fold his arms and ignore you. "I was working, and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm sorry." The fucker just picked up the remote sitting next to him and turned up the volume higher. "Really, silent treatment. Can we please act like adults?" Still nothing. This is how it went for the rest of the day until dinner. You tried your hardest, you begged, you bribed, and even did the silent treatment back, but Mark still ignored you. So you decided to bring out the big guns. He was back to sitting in front of the TV watching a show, but you could tell that you caught his attention when you walked into the room. You walked over to stand directly in front of him and then slid yourself onto his lap. "Mark," you kissed him on his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't answer you." You kissed him on his forehead. " It won't happen again, I promise." You kissed him on the lips. He accepted it gladly, and he gripped your waist and pulled you even closer to him. He popped away from the kiss with a line of spit connecting the two of you. He smirked. "I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you." He inched his hands further up and leaned in for a kiss, and then you pulled away and stood up

"Well, that's good." "Y/N, wait, where are you going?" He stood up to and watched you as you walked toward the front door. "Oh, I was gonna go eat out for dinner, didn't feel like cooking. I'm so glad we could make up, though, bye Mark." You opened the door and walked out. "Wait, I'll come with."

Mohawk Mark

~ Yeah, he's the type to leave you a voicemail, cursing you out.

~ Because why the fuck would you ever act like you can just not pick up his phone call? He will scream into the phone like a crazy person, and it will freak everyone out.

~ He will not scream that much at you. If anything, he did it because he thought it was funny and not because of any genuine anger.

"Oh fuck Mark called me while we were fighting." You were covered in sweat, and heaving even though Eve looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat. "Damn and he left a voicemail." "Oh, what did he say?" She leaned over your shoulder and watched as you clicked on the voicemail your boyfriend had sent you. "Y/N. DON'T YOU EVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE THINK THAT YOU CAN HAND UP ON ME YOU SON OF A BITCH. PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE." The line went dead, and you and Eve just stared at each other. "You should probably call him." "Yeah," You stared at the phone in silence as you called Mark until he picked up. "Hi Mark, what did you need?" You heard him shuffling around, and then the sound of him shoveling something in his mouth. "There are no more chips; you should pick some up on your way home." "That's all?" "Yep, see ya."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Do you have any advice on how to write characters doing things while talking? Not just body language, but actual scenes, like playing games or (my default) eating

Writing Tips: Mixing Action & Dialogue

Striking a Balance

There are no hard-and-fast rules about when and when not to blend dialogue, action, and narrative.

To weave them together well is to find your story's rhythm.

But there are a few questions you can ask yourself about your story, especially in the rewrite stage, that can help you know which elements are most effective for a particular scene, and which might be better used elsewhere.

Ask yourself:

Is the story moving a little too slowly, and do I need to speed things up? (Use dialogue.)

Is it time to give the reader some background on the characters so they're more sympathetic? (Use narrative, dialogue, or a combination of the two.)

Do I have too many dialogue scenes in a row? (Use action or narrative.)

Are my characters constantly confiding in others about things they should only be pondering in their minds? (Use narrative.)

Likewise, are my characters alone in their heads when my characters in conversation would be more effective and lively? (Use dialogue.)

Is my story top-heavy in any way at all—too much dialogue, too much narrative, or too much action? (Insert more of the elements that are missing.)

Are my characters providing too many background details as they're talking to each other? (Use narrative.)

Whether we're using dialogue, action, or narrative to move the story forward, any or all 3 of these elements are doing double duty by revealing our characters' motives.

Your story's dialogue can reveal motive in a way that's natural and authentic because whether we're aware of it or not, we reveal our own motives all the time in our everyday lives.

And to understand a character's motive is to understand the character.

Action Beats - the descriptions of the expressions, movements, or even internal thoughts that accompany the speaker’s words.

They’re always included in the same paragraph as the dialogue, so as to indicate that the person acting is also the person speaking.

On a technical level, action beats keep your writing varied, manage the pace of a dialogue-heavy scene, and break up the long list of lines ending in ‘he said’ or ‘she said’.

But on a character level, action beats are even more important because they can go a level deeper than dialogue and illustrate a character’s body language.

When we communicate, dialogue only forms a half of how we get across what we want to say.

Body language is that missing half — which is why action beats are so important in visualizing a conversation, and can help you “show” rather than “tell” in writing.

Here’s a quick exercise to practice thinking about body language in the context of dialogue:

Imagine a short scene, where you are witnessing a conversation between two people from the opposite side of a restaurant or café. Because it’s noisy and you can’t hear what they are saying, describe the conversation through the use of body language only.

Remember, at the end of the day, action beats and spoken dialogue are partners in crime.

Examples

From Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go, which highlights the power of interspersing action beats within dialogue:

“Tommy,” I said, quite sternly. “There’s mud all over your shirt.” “So what?” he mumbled. But even as he said this, he looked down and noticed the brown specks, and only just stopped himself crying out in alarm. Then I saw the surprise register on his face that I should know about his feelings for the polo shirt. “It’s nothing to worry about.” I said, before the silence got humiliating for him. “It’ll come off. If you can’t get it off yourself, just take it to Miss Jody.” He went on examining his shirt, then said grumpily, “It’s nothing to do with you anyway.”

Using a beat to interrupt the flow of dialogue:

“I love to write books!” John sat at the keyboard and cracked his knuckles. “But I don't like editing them as much.”

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Choose which of these writing tips from the above sources work for your story. Hope this helps with your writing!

[extantformoflife]

imagine you're an uber driver. and this one group of friends has been getting you to drive them around all over the place, which is your job, but it seems like you're the only uber driver they ever interact with, and they go to some pretty weird places, so you end up getting to know them pretty well. well enough that one day you end up realizing you actually met the mom of one of them, which is pretty cool!! you talk to her about it and it turns out her mom has since died which sucks and also the conversation is really awkward so you offer to take them to their next destination (vegas) for free. while you're on the road your car breaks down so you spend like three days camped out on the side of the highway fixing your car. some of them are pretty good at engineering which you would NOT have expected looking at them. eventually you manage to get them to hawaii, which is the closest stop to vegas you can make by car. and like, at this point, you know these people. they're nice. and you've always wanted to go to vegas, so you ask to tag along while they make the rest of the journey on foot. they agree to let you come with, and you kind of end up naturally assimilating into the group. it turns out they're on a journey to save the planet from destruction and you end up joining them for that too because you would prefer the planet remains un-destroyed and these guys aren't the worst travelling companions in the world. you have to fight a dead war hero. you are, critically, an uber driver.

you may think this scenario sounds far fetched, but it all happened to my friend Cid Highwind