#because I can’t believe this man is winning
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You know what. I’m calling myself out here. I got to thinking about it and I’m going to walk this back.
Flemythal is the embodiment of Mythal’s wrath and vengeance, if I’ve understood correctly. The piece of her that could be ruthless and cruel. But Flemmeth looks like, well, Flemmeth. Her voice is her own. Her body is her own. The fact that she leans into this side of Mythal speaks to her own disposition.
The form we see as being Mythal is what she looked like. She was a spirit of benevolence. She was called the All-Mother. Those are soft things. Gentle things. And in whatever way (I personally think as a son to a mother but whatever) Solas loved her, it was that face and voice that drew him from the Fade. The gentle, beautiful, soft spoken person who told him she loved him and that they were dearest friends and “oh no this mark doesn’t brand you as a slave, my dear friend, just every single other person who wears it, I promise” and he believed her.
And he obeyed her wishes.
This is the person who turned away from him and joined the Evanuris despite Solas’ begging, building a home for her, trusting her. She’s the one he grieved and tried to avenge.
The powerful dominating presence was absolutely there but it was tempered by the other parts of her. Wielded with soft words and a gentle face.
My comment about “he’s afraid of YOU?!” is one made by a person just seeing a picture. Solas had thousands of years to know her. This is the woman who, and I quote: “Pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon and it broke you.”
She stole him from his home.
- It’s fine, I love you, you’re going to love it. I need you.
She threw him into war. War. War is hell is a saying for a reason. It is. Now imagine centuries of it. Solas went from existing happily in the Fade to WAR. The worst experiences a person can live through, he went right into as a new, spirit-born elf. I can’t even imagine.
- You’re helping me, you’re doing the right thing, you’re making a difference, Wisdom. Wear my brand. Yes it’s usually for slaves but… just do it. For me. You know I love you, right?
She twisted his purpose from Wisdom to Destruction. If you’ve played his personal quest in Inquisition, you know how horrible this is for a spirit. It’s torture. It’s torment. It’s enough for them to wish to die.
- But it’s so necessary, love. We have to win this, or it’s all ruin. Make me a weapon for my war. Serve me and know I love you. You’re fine. Enjoy yourself. Don’t you like the power? Don’t you like how strong you feel, Pride? I brought you here. I’m why you have it! I made you.
So when we come to the end and he’s cowering before her as if she’s about to do it all again, and she just “oh, I broke you… you’re free. We both did so many bad things together because you did everything I required because you loved me… you can stop now, I guess :)” I have to feel like Morrigan was just staring holes in the woman’s back and yanked her back into that idol as quickly as she could. You abused me the same way you did him and now that he’s good and crushed by the final realization that all this suffering was for nothing because you were too stupid to listen TO THE VOICE YOU PULLED FROM THE FADE BECAUSE HE IS WISDOM EMBODIED and got yourself killed, you won’t be touching him again.
Let this poor man go home and take his wife, thank whatever gods there be for her, and leave them alone. Oh and you know what super funny? They’re still going to be cleaning up your mess there too.
I completely understand why every analysis about Mythal in DA:TV is so intense, whether pointing to her as an abuser towards Solas, or whether saying they should share responsibility for all the shit they did, but in truth, the only thing that makes me hate her most is her character visual design.
too Barbie'd for me. Ghilly steals her lunch at school
this woman though. "and I will have her avenged" in Kate Mulgrew's voice. we are in awe when we see her. we fear her.
it is said that Flemeth's fragment has been improving over the years. clearly this has also occurred in the aesthetics. girl, it's called fashion
#I just really can’t stand that woman#solas isn’t perfect or blameless but good GOD at what point does a child soldier start being the monster they were twisted into?
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i wholeheartedly believe clay terran was the funniest (and most frustrating) motherfucker to ever grace planet earth
- would always jailbreak new phones immediately & constantly had his location set to antarctica. this made it impossible to locate him
- sometimes screamed after he popped his neck and then pretended nothing happened (in public)
- found a bottle of ketchup in his grandma’s pantry that expired in 1999. proceeded to steal it and kept it at home in his shower to confuse any guests. he only had like 1 friend & apollo can’t really do anything but wonder about it now (“he was probably fucking with me, but it slowly started getting more empty….”)
— btw, when apollo went to clean out his apartment after everything happened, the bottle was gone. yuri cosmos later found it in clay’s HAT-2 belongings. he was 100% going to target starbuck with this in space.
- had a phase where he would only use microsoft bing & said “binging it” instead of “googling it”
- he had a bit of an irrational stapler fear because he got himself once, so until he got over it he’d MAKE APOLLO STAPLE THINGS FOR HIM. this included his GYAXA application.
— he got over it one day, but he kind of started punching staplers to get the job done. clay was ballsy and would jump fences & stage sabotages but he would get nervous around staplers. (“IT’S TOO CLOSE!” grown ass man)
- was very conventionally attractive & overall kind. so “how are you still single?” was a common question at bars until clay started ranting (unprompted) about how much he hated the voice they use at crosswalks or some shit (“oh. that’s why.”)
- never really cared about winning in multiplayer games or anything. he just really really wanted to make sure a person of his choosing lost. cosmos picked the right guy for the job — sabotage was in his blood since day 1 when he was steering himself and apollo off the rails in that mario party minecart race
— btw he mained donkey kong in mario party. if you stole donkey kong from him you would be losing that game hell or high waters. he is stealing ALL YOUR STARS
- did his taxes on the last possible day (that, or apollo would do them for him because as much as he loved the guy, he really didn’t have high faith he’d get around to it. he…………. also probably did wright’s taxes while he was in the beanix phase. ….and athena’s because she didn’t know how. oh, someone please save apollo.)
#ace attorney#clay terran#dual destinies#dual destinies spoilers#ramble#i’d write more but i’m really sleepy
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The blue wave guys…where is it?!?!?!? What is happening. I know I’ve been asking for something to push me over the edge, but I didn’t mean now. I meant like in a couple years.
#Time for democrats to start saying this was a#stolen election#because I can’t believe this man is winning#asaaaaaaaaaa😖😖😖😖😖😖
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Man what a horrible way to wake up.
#I was holding out for the mail ins but 290 something votes is just….#idk man I’m kind of in shock#I can’t wrap my head around how so many fucking people looked at him and went ‘yeah he should run the country’#I think it’s time either the coasts leave the country and become independent#or we abolish the presidency#because one person should never have this much lower#I just don’t know what else we can do to move forward tbh#I want to believe people are inherently good and I still do really but holy fucking hell#how do you win against this facist machine at this point?#where do we go from here?#*power#not retyping all that
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Porfiry telling Raskolnikov that at least he was honest and in one bound took the furthest leap to put his theory to the test of actual action——
#Taylor believing a man who is obviously lying to her#like. it’s fascinating to me how they’ll say anything to her and she’ll be like ‘okay let’s go’#she’s never read Jane Austen and it shows. but that’s okay because she’s the character in an Austen novel#she has no sense of self-preservation she has no common sense when it comes to love#and the reason I have endless patience for that is because she IS different. she is extraordinary. she is WEIRD. she’s so needy#so angry so fragile so stupid so brilliant so completely helpless#like the bolter———I can’t even LOOK at it right now#because you know she was like this since she was 5 and SHE knows it#just so. Different. so strange. I mean she ruled her family with an iron fist from the age of 11#and her packaging is so basic and she she had so much access to everything anyone could want#so there are none of the usual marks of someone being so Different#but like. people HATED her from day one. you know her own strength of personality was drawing out many people’s hatred or envy#and she’s so helpless in her own personality because she can never change#like thank you aimee? or whatever? heck yeah there was some girl who bullied her and brutalized her on the playground#and you know it devastated Taylor from day one and still does#and it’s just. I don’t know how people can’t see that someone with that extraordinary set of gifts#wouldn’t also suffer in such an extraordinary way#and ways that elicit so much scorn and non-sympathy because people are unsettled and jealous and annoyed by her#because she WILL find a way to win#but isn’t that proof enough that she is the very OPPOSITE OF NORMAL#it’s why people have to be like ‘oh she sold her soul to the devil for this success.’ or whatever the psy-op spy thing is#because there’s no human way to explain her success if she really were as basic/talentless as people say#ugh this is all so incoherent and irritating and I’m so sorry but I just. I cannot explain how protective my heart is of her#and all the many many mistakes she’s made and the prisons she’s made for herself because she’s LIVING the tragedy#of never having denied herself one time/getting everything she wants#and discovering the poison at the bottom of everything she reached for with desperate hands#like. I love her so much and I am so protective of her because she is so helpless and she is getting shot in the face every time#and she feels every blow!#whew I need to turn off reblogs and will probably delete but I just#this album is all of her spilled out and people DO hate to see it because a lot of people hate her!!!!
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𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]
c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here
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Spencer wakes to an empty room.
He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.
He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls.
Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay.
Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case.
A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.
Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him?
He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens.
You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway.
Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates.
“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.
He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.
“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.”
You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?
“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.”
“They cut my hair?” he croaks.
“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”
“I…”
“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows.
“You look different than the last time I saw you.”
He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?
“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets.
Your fingers slip into his with ease.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves.
“Of course you can.”
He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…”
“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?”
You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart.
“What happened to you?” he asks.
Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask.
“What…”
“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes.
“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.
“Spencer?”
Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap.
His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says.
“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.”
“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.”
“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously.
“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing.
Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again.
—
“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks.
You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap.
“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.”
“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek.
Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.”
“But I do eventually?”
“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly.
You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.”
“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says.
“Sort of,” Spencer says.
It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then.
“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks.
Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?”
You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”
“Not you?” he asks.
You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.”
When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag.
You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it.
“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer.
“Uh.”
“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.”
“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says.
He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out.
“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”
Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.”
“You dog,” Derek says.
“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.”
“I do know you,” Spencer says.
“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table.
Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.”
“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says.
Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.”
“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.”
“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.”
“Every week?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“We’re never apart?” he asks.
His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks.
“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze.
Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks.
Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too.
“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.”
“We do?”
“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.”
“We did?”
You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.”
“How do you love?”
His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day. “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.”
“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says.
“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.”
He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger.
“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”
It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into.
“Can I ask you something?” you ask.
“Anything.”
He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams.
“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.”
“Who wouldn’t like you?”
“But did you?”
He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.”
“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.”
You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?”
“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily.
“What do you think?”
“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.”
You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”
He gives a choky laugh.
The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you.
Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock.
“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly.
“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”
Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?”
Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”
“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.”
“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile.
“Has she been kind to you, Reid?”
“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?”
Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.
—
It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on.
You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space.
Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.
Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss.
He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely.
Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him.
“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”
You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!”
You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.”
“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.”
You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?”
He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.”
You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.”
He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.”
You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.”
He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”
“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.”
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thanks for reading!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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My sister wanted to watch dance moms last night like… as if it’s a comedy… and my god is it not at all funny or enjoyable to watch. Crazy to me that it was even aired as entertainment at all considering how fuckin abusive the adults are to the children involved
#like hahaha these parents are so fuckin neglectful of their child’s emotions and is making their self esteem come entirely from winning#being skinny and attractive#the amount of ‘man up’ ‘tough love’ ‘stop crying’ ‘you have to put dance first’ etc. was insane#and hearing the moms say they were dancers from a young age or their kid ‘wants nothing but to win’ or ‘she’s a perfectionist’ or some shit#when you can tell it’s 100% the moms not the kids that are like that… just the sheer disconnect and lack of care for who they are#and ngl the teacher brought back horrible feelings from getting talked to like that by teachers in school#that shit’s awful and I can’t believe the parents would still force their child into that situation knowing the effect it has on them#eugh. just eugh#couldn’t make it through 1 episode and then cried after lmao#and the moms lowkey hating the dance teacher and having mental breakdowns over her rudeness/treatment of the kids AND YET STILL PAYING TO#HAVE THEIR KIDS IN HER CLASSES#like what the fuckkkkk your kid was sobbing after her ‘tough love’ and is stuck with immense pressure and stress about getting it right…#and she’s pitting them against each other and making the kids that aren’t as good feel lesser#maybe fucking stop ???#I guess the problem is the parents are just as bad just in their own way cuz they don’t give a shit if it hurts the kids either#as long as they win/stay in dance/stay being the best#the teacher not letting a kid stop because she was nauseous and the mom intervening because she looked like she was going to throw up… only#to say ‘stop crying its not a big deal’ and saying ‘you never miss dance though’ when the kid is sobbing saying she wants to go home#really got to me ngl… made me fucking sick to watch#me talking#dance moms
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Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.
‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.
Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.
Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.
Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.
Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.
“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.
Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.
And what was the crux of the replacement Fade prison Solas crafted for the Evanuris? It was a prison built on regret, and the only way to leave would be to face them. Which Ghilan’nan and Elgar’nan would never be able to do.
Spite says “Lucanis is here. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.” But Rook can.
In his mind’s eye, Lucanis makes Caterina, Harding, Neve and Illario his jailers of negative emotions in a prison of his own creation.
And in all that inner turmoil, his idea of Illario says, “Rook, you’re too good to be here.”
Rook isn’t one of his jailers, not because they don’t matter enough compared to the others, but because Lucanis’ thoughts, ideas and feelings for Rook are too good.
Rook opens doors, they’re not a jailer who throws away the key. In Lucanis and Spite’s eyes, Rook is the key. They are a liberator, a hero, the only one he’ll listen to.
Love, understanding, the unwavering promise of companionship (platonic or romantic) despite the risk to themselves sets Lucanis free.
I’ve seen people who are disappointed in his storyline complain that it feels as though ‘Rook strong arms him into a committed relationship’ that he somehow ‘feels obligated to indulge’ and engage in as a result of saving Treviso. I believe these claims just end up ignoring the really good diamonds in the rough we’re given in terms of Rookanis relationship development.
A romanced!Lucanis gives way to lines like “I don’t know what Rook sees in me. I’m happy to just be around them.”
And paralleling scenes like when Caterina chastises a kneeling Illario with “A Dellamorte never kneels.” Only for Lucanis to later walk over to a post-Fade trapped Rook and literally kneel at their feet like they’re the only deity he cares to worship like this is Take Me To Church by Hozier.
And what is Rookanis as a ship, if not Rook teaching him it’s okay to assert himself, which leads to Lucanis reclaiming his humanity through an act of love? Just saying. Given time, and love, he turns into a Gomez Addams sort of romantic figure.
If Rook were associated as any feeling to Lucanis then they’d be love. Affection. A state of understanding. Purpose? Freedom?
Better yet, Rook could be determination. After all, Rook’s defining characteristic is that they ‘just can’t seem to quit’— in the face of the man they care about saying ‘give up on me, i’m damaged goods’ why wouldn’t they win him over in the end?
#dragon age veilguard spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age rook#solavellan#rookanis#solas x female lavellan#lucanis x rook
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Tastes Like Gin | Max Verstappen x Best Friend! Reader
Summary: Max turns 27, and his best friend surprises him with a birthday party. Unfortunately, a few shots from his fellow drivers gives Max more confidence than he expected.
Warnings: Fluff. Friends to lovers.
Requested: No. Just a birthday piece
F1 Masterlist
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
redbullracing just posted
liked by schecoperez, christianhorner and others
redbullracing so many max memories 🎂 here’s to 27. happy birthday
2,331 comments
christianhorner happy birthday, champ
f1 happy birthday, max
user not rbr only using pics of max in team gear
user waiting (not so) patiently for yn’s bday post because she posts the softest pics of max
user i love how this post is just fans complaining about max’s car
→ user it’s ‘cause all the drivers will be waiting for yn to post
user here’s to hoping for more wins when the autumn break is over
user have a purr-fect day 🐱
yn_ln just posted
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others
yn_ln happy birthday, maxie. no matter how old you get, or how many records you set, you’ll always be the goofball that peed in my paddling pool. happy 27th 🧡🦁
5,533 comments
user yn’s yearly dose of humbling
→ user she always posts the most ego destroying photos of him
→ user as a best friend should
maxverstappen1 i was 5! and you promised you would stop bringing that up
→ yn_ln was i drunk when i made this promise?
→ maxverstappen1 yes…
→ yn_ln then you know it doesn’t count
→ maxverstappen1 for my birthday this year, i’d like a new best friend
→ yn_ln already bought your present and i can’t refund it. soz
danielricciardo why have you posted two pics of him with his tiddies out
→ yn_ln you mean you don’t like the vertiddies? i’m blessing the mv1 fan base
→ redbullracing and my timeline
→ yn_ln see
landonorris 27 years means 27 shots
→ yn_ln only if you’re taking him home at the end of the night. he can puke in your bathtub
→ maxverstappen1 that was one time! and tbf, i’d just won my first wdc
→ charles_leclerc why do you keep desecrating this woman’s water features
lilymhe ew, is that a man?
→ yn_ln i’m only friends with him for his money, i swear! you’re the only one for me
→ user um, haven’t you been friends since you were kids
→ yn_ln it’s called playing the long game. i could tell he was going to be rich since he was little
→ maxverstappen1 i can’t tell if i’m insulted or complimented
maxverstappen1 added to his story
yn_ln added to her story
landonorris added to his story
landonorris replied to maxverstappen1’s story wow. what a gorgeous date → i still think you should set us up → maxverstappen1 fuck off → landonorris with a sight like that, i thought you’d be in a better mood
maxverstappen1 replied to yn_ln’s story i can’t believe you pulled off a whole surprise party without me knowing → you’re phenomenal → yn_ln you’re not mad at me for ruining our nice, quiet evening like you were expected → maxverstappen1 no. i get to celebrate with all the people i love → and we still had our quiet dinner just the two of us → i can’t believe you’ve done all of this for me → yn_ln i’d do anything for you
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Tangled in the white bedsheets, you realised you hadn’t changed out of your dress from the night before. Max’s old hoodie, a 33 above the breast, covered the top-half of your frame, providing some semblance of warmth and comfort. Head propped up on the pillows, you squinted at the bright screen in your hand. Blinking furiously, you couldn't tell if the pounding in your head was from the lack of sleep or the disbelief at what you had done. A friendship of over two decades ruined in a single night. Thumb swiping at the screen, a wave of shame washed over you as you scrolled to another post. And then another.
Another image. Another angle. Another trending tweet.
All of them accumulated in one place, screaming at you. For years you had buried the feelings you harboured for your best friend. Shoving them deep down below the surface, hiding them under quick-witted remarks and fleeting touches. He had never shown even an inkling that he returned the way you felt. Laughing it off when the other drivers questioned the nature of your relationship. Shoving you at Lando when he joked he’d “take you off his hands”. Asking you for fashion advice a few hours before a first date. And you had endured it all, in order to remain under the light of his platonic love. In one night, you had torn down the wall you had sloppily cemented together.
The shrill sound of your phone pounded against your skull, piercing through the destructive thoughts. Blurry images of his face pressed against yours were replaced by a professional photo. Max’s face grinning back at you, his cheek smushed against the sliver of your face caught in the edge of the photo. Another night. Another celebration. A very different ending.
“Why are you awake already?” You muttered to yourself, looking at the contact picture filling up your phone. You thought you’d have more time. More time to think of an excuse, to plan a lie, to pretend you knew nothing about it.
About his face going viral, her body going viral, the pair of them connected going viral.
“Morning, old man.” You answered, attempting a light-hearted tone. “I thought you’d still be passed out.”
“I tried,” grumbled Max. “But my phone wouldn’t stop blowing up.”
“That’s odd.”
“Uh, huh. You been on Twitter this morning?”
Silence fell. You didn’t know how to respond to that with a clear voice. Max didn’t need you to. He could read your silence almost as well as your words.
“Did that really happen?”
A sting shot through your chest. Here came the let down. “Well, it can't have been a very memorable kiss if you don’t remember it happening.”
A false laugh echoed down the phone. Max’s eyebrows scrunched together and the unspoken pain.
“I remember every second of it,” he said vehemently. “I just thought I was dreaming again.”
You didn’t hear his words. Already having prepared your next line. Say the words before he can. That’ll make them hurt less.
“It’s okay. I know they didn’t mean anything. You were just drunk. I’m sorry it’s gone viral. I can’t imagine the kind of PR mess this will be.”
“No! No, I wasn’t. I mean, I was intoxicated, sure. But, not drunk enough to do things I didn’t mean-”
“Max, it’s okay. I get it. Nothing will change between us because you had a few too many G&Ts. I’m happy to speak to PR with you and see how we can fix this-.”
“Will you just stop?” Max demanded, voice too loud to both your sensitive ears. He winced as you fell silent, sharp intake of breath filling his ears. “Stop trying to brush this off as nothing. Yes, Charles filled me with shots, and I was more easygoing than normal but I remember every. second. of. that. kiss. You had a cocktail umbrella tucked behind your ear, and Alexandra’s lipstick mark on your cheek. Lando had stolen your hair clip so it was down and loose, just how I like it. I was intoxicated but just enough to give me the courage I didn’t have before.”
“You tasted like gin,” was the breathless reply he got.
“What are you doing this morning?” Max asked, desperate to break the heaviness between the two of you. Desperate to hear your usual answer after a night out; ready for him to take you for a greasy breakfast to mop away the alcohol.
He could hear your smile - picture it in his head - when you said, “Waiting for you to pick me up, of course.”
“I’ll be there in 20.”
“Make it 30. I have terrible morning breath.”
Max’s laughter eased the tension in her body. “Maybe this time you’ll taste like mint.”
maxverstappen1 just posted
liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others
maxverstappen1 the best birthday gift this year
6,333 comments
yn_ln i love you 🧡 i can’t wait to spend many more birthdays by your side
→ maxverstappen1 mijn hart
redbullracing finally. we’ve been waiting for this to happen since abu dhabi 2021
→ user rbr so real for that because the way he grabbed her. i fr thought he was going to kiss her there and then
→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to
landonorris but i got you personalised gaming headphones :(
→ oscarpiastri and i got you the ultimate guide to minecraft
→ danielricciardo yes but neither of you got him laid. yn did
→ yn_ln daniel!
→ charles_leclerc i got him drunk enough to kiss her. does that count?
→ yn_ln no!
→ maxverstappen1 yes
→ yn_ln you guys suck
→ landonorris sounds like that was your job
→ yn_ln @/redbullracing @/mclaren @/scuderiaferarri pr training for all of them!
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
Requests are open. Coming up;
Drunk and flirty Toto
K Mag Part 2 ‘cause it seems I’ve converted some of you
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#formula one social media au#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smau#max verstappen x reader
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Forgotten Thing : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: you know just how busy max is, and you understood too, only now you're starting to feel like the forgotten thing in his life
The sound of light snores greeted you as you walked into the apartment, unable to stop your eyes from rolling. Your heart raced as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the ground with a loud thud, not caring about the figure asleep in your living room.
“Max,” you called out, standing to the side of the sofa with your arms folded across your chest.
The sound of your voice had him stirring, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A smile was on his face for a moment until Max noticed how nice you looked, eyes going wide in horror when he remembered that he had promised to pick you up from work.
“That was a lovely walk home,” you sarcastically told him, taking a seat on the end of the sofa, “at least you got some rest though, that’s what matters, right?”
The frustration was clear in your voice as you found yourself let down by Max again. It was becoming a pretty normal feeling for you, to be given empty promises and assured of things that you knew that Max wouldn’t be able to follow through.
“Don’t be mad, please,” Max asked of you, sitting himself up. “I only planned on closing my eyes for a few minutes, and then I just lost track of time. I mean, all you had to do was walk home from work, it’s hardly the most difficult job in the world.
Your head shook at how dismissive Max was. “The walk home didn’t bother me Max, it’s the fact that you promised you’d be there. You keep promising and not delivering, it’s like I’m some forgotten, unimportant part of your life.”
Max brushed his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up, not quite understanding what you were so fed up about. “I’ve been so busy at work recently I obviously just needed the sleep. We can’t all have a job like yours, some of us are working nonstop.”
“I see, because my job is a walk in the park, isn’t it?” You scoffed.
You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Max, he’d always seemed to be supportive, but now you weren’t so sure. It was like the two of you were in competition, with Max clearly feeling like he was winning.
“It’s not the same, how hard I work and how hard you work is very different. I’ve got a flight to catch early tomorrow morning and you’ve got the next two days off, so I’d say I’m slightly more important,” Max argued.
Your mouth went wide in shock, letting go of a gasp. You didn’t recognise the man in front of you, the man who usually was so caring and sympathetic had turned into someone who couldn’t care less about you.
“I’ve always looked after you Max, done absolutely anything for you. It’s a shame you can’t do the same for me. I might as well just leave, that’s how you make me feel,” you spoke.
Max’s eyes widened once again, his body tensing up. You stood up, feeling Max's eyes watching your every move, slowly backing towards the front door.
“You wouldn’t actually leave,” Max sniggered.
“Why not? What is there to make me stay anymore?” You challenged, your voice getting louder. “Why shouldn’t I go somewhere where I actually feel valued and appreciated rather as if I’m nothing.”
“Love,” Max whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel that way, it’s just been so hard for the past couple of weeks. I really did intend on picking you up, I set an alarm and everything, but I must’ve just slept right through it.”
“If you were tired or stressed Max, you should’ve told me, I’d never have expected you to pick me up if I knew,” you sighed, walking back into the room again.
“But you’re right, I do keep making promises that I can’t keep, so I wanted to pick you up to prove to you that I care.” Max tapped the space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to sit beside him as his hand rested against your leg.
“I know that you care about me,” you assured him.
Max’s head shook, “but I’ve not shown you that, when you’re constantly here caring for me, I just take it for granted, we’re supposed to care for each other.”
You smiled weakly across at Max, knowing better than anyone just how hard he worked. For all his faults, you could never fault how loved he made you feel, even if his mind was elsewhere sometimes. Your hand reached out and pressed against the side of his face, lips pressing against his cheek, unaware of the way Max’s heart raced with relief at the feeling of your lips on him.
“If you’re free this weekend, do you fancy coming to the race?” Max asked you, “I’ll make sure that we can spend some time together when I’m not needed at the garage. We can explore, have a proper look around.”
Your head nodded at his suggestion, excited by the thought of being at a race again. It had been a while, you were never quite sure if Max wanted you there or not, but now he couldn’t imagine himself going to the race without you.
“You don’t need to do this, I know how hard race weekends are,” you assured him, squeezing against his hand, “I don’t need anything to be made up to me.”
“But you do,” Max defended, knowing just how badly he’d treated you. “I want to make sure you know that I care, I’m going to make sure that we have the best weekend together too.”
Max moved his free arm around your frame as he pulled you into his side, pressing several gentle kisses against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was more loving than anything you’d felt from him in a while, letting you know just how sorry he was.
Once he was done, Max kept his head resting on top of yours. “Whatever you want to do whilst we’re there this weekend, we’ll do. I’ll even drive you around and pick you up from the paddock.”
“Max,” you whispered, but he quickly shushed you, knowing what you were about to say.
“Don’t tell me that you understand that it’s alright, because it’s not,” he laughed, reading your mind perfectly. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and that needs to be put right.”
“I do understand, you work so hard.”
“And so do you,” Max responded, “I never should’ve made it sound like your job doesn’t matter, because it does, you’re the hardest working person I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising,” you grinned, pressing your head further into Max’s side, “I know how sorry you are Max.”
A hum came from him as he leant back on the sofa, cuddling you into his side as he draped his legs over the top of yours.
“Let’s sleep for a bit,” you suggested, placing your hand on his chest, “I know how much better you sleep when you’ve got someone to cuddle.”
Max nodded in agreement with you, “you can’t be telling anyone how much I love being cuddled to sleep, people won’t think I’m cool anymore.”
“Leave me stranded at work again and I might just reveal all your secrets,” you teased.
“You wouldn’t,” Max challenged, watching your head nod out of the corner of his eye.
“You wouldn’t want to find out.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula one#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#formula one x you#formula x reader#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you
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this is miguel o’hara being a dick
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
-
miguel knows he’s fucked.
he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.
but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.
you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.
yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.
the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.
“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,
hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”
his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”
“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”
“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”
“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”
no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.
un-fucking-believable
“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“
Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.
“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.
“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.
oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.
the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.
“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.
Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.
“cariño i—“
“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,
but he just did and now he’s paying the price,
his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.
“baby, please—“
you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”
with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.
he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.
it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.
he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.
but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy
God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.
and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.
Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.
he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.
“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“
soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.
Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.
beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.
Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”
you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”
you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.
tulips. your favorite
he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”
that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”
“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”
a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.
you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.
“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“
“stop talking”
he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.
seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.
“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”
he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“
“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”
Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.
“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”
“a cute one though” you pout at him,
he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”
“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”
he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”
you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”
he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”
he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”
his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.
you do miss him touching you,
“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”
Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.
“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”
you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,
“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,
“i wanna hear you scream my name.”
-
part 2?
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A Surprise Visitor
Word count: 2.1k
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Summary: After two years of watching from afar, Y/n surprises her boyfriend, Lando Norris, at the Monza Grand Prix, creating a buzz in the paddock and revealing their private relationship.
Requests are open
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The hum of the jet engines thrummed through the cabin, but I was too excited to care. This was finally happening. After two years of watching Lando's races from my cramped little apartment, I was on my way to my first Grand Prix. It had taken a miracle—or more precisely, a break in my grueling medical school schedule—to make it happen, and now I was on a plane bound for Monza. Lando had no idea I was coming.
For two years, we had been each other's biggest supporters, but always from afar. With my studies and his relentless racing schedule, we made it work through late-night FaceTime calls, stolen weekends, and text messages sent across different time zones. Lando understood how much becoming a doctor meant to me, and I understood how much racing meant to him. It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it. And now, finally, I was going to surprise him at one of the biggest races of the season.
The plan was simple: get to Monza, navigate through the labyrinth of the paddock area, and find Lando. But of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. After all, Lando had kept our relationship very private—mostly because of my request. I had wanted to avoid any extra scrutiny or attention that could interfere with my studies. So, not many people knew who I was. That anonymity had always been a blessing, but today, it might turn into a curse.
As I approached the entrance to the paddock, the reality of the situation hit me. The security was tight, and without a pass, there was no easy way in. I tried to remain calm and confident as I approached the guard at the gate, a stern-looking man. I put on my most winning smile.
"Hi, I’m here for Lando Norris. I'm his girlfriend," I said, hoping my nerves didn’t show in my voice.
The guard didn’t even flinch. He glanced at me. “Do you have a pass, ma’am?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. I’m surprising him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t have a pass, I can’t let you in. Anyone could say they're someone’s girlfriend.”
I felt my face flush. Of course, he was right. I had counted on my story being enough, but without any proof, I was just another face in the crowd. My mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that would convince him. I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically through my photos to find one of Lando and me that wasn’t overly intimate but still proved I knew him. Finally, I found one from his last birthday—a picture of us at a quiet dinner, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like idiots.
“Look, this is us,” I said, holding the phone up to the guard.
He squinted at it, but it still didn’t seem to sway him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without clearance, I can’t let you in.”
I bit my lip, starting to panic. Would I really come all this way just to be turned away at the gate? Just then, I heard a familiar voice from behind the guard.
“Hey, is there a problem here?”
It was Charlotte, one of Lando’s closest friends who often accompanied him to races. Relief washed over me. She knew who I was, thank goodness. The guard turned to her, explaining the situation, and Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “She’s with Lando. She’s legit,” she assured the guard, who seemed to visibly relax.
“Alright, you’re good to go,” he said, opening the gate for me. I breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking Charlotte profusely.
“Lando’s going to flip when he sees you,”
Charlotte led me through the bustling paddock, weaving between crew members, engineers, and the odd driver. My heart pounded with every step. I couldn’t believe I was finally here, in the thick of it, about to see Lando. I’d spent so many weekends watching him on TV, wishing I could be there to support him in person. Now, I was just moments away from making that a reality.
As we rounded a corner, I saw the familiar McLaren colors and a group of people crowded around, busy with last-minute preparations. And there he was, standing near his car, deep in conversation with his race engineer. I paused, taking him in. Lando looked focused, his brow furrowed as he listened intently. He was in his element, and seeing him like this—so determined, so alive—made my heart swell with pride.
Charlotte gave me a nudge and a wink. “Go on.”
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward him, trying to keep my emotions in check. With each step, my excitement grew, and I couldn't help but smile. When I was just a few feet away, Lando turned around, still half-listening to his engineer. His eyes skimmed over me at first, not really registering who I was, but then they widened. His mouth fell open in shock.
“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”
The smile on my face grew wider. “Surprise!”
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a heartbeat, his face broke into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. He closed the distance between us in two strides, wrapping me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground. I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice muffled against my hair. He set me down gently but kept his arms around me as if afraid I might disappear if he let go. “You’re really here?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said, my own eyes brimming with happy tears. “I finally managed to get a break from school. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did more than surprise me,” he said, pulling back to look at me. His eyes were bright with joy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, seeing just how much my presence meant to him. “I’m so proud of you, Lando. I’ve been watching every race from my apartment, but I’m finally here to cheer you on in person.”
His face softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the chaotic paddock, wrapped up in our little world. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I wish you could be here all the time.”
“I wish I could too,” I replied. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and full of relief. “I have to admit, this is the best surprise ever. But how did you even get in? Did anyone recognize you?”
“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It was a bit of a challenge. Charlotte saved the day.”
He glanced over my shoulder and waved a grateful hand at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing smile. “Remind me to thank her later,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to me. “But seriously, Y/N, you being here… it just makes everything better.”
I felt my heart flutter at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make your day a little brighter. Now, you better go out there and win, okay? I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”
Lando’s grin widened, and he nodded with determination. “With you here, I feel like I can do anything.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I felt a rush of warmth spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Stay close, alright? After the race, we’re celebrating. Just you and me.”
“Deal,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Now go be amazing.”
Lando jogged back to his team, but not before throwing a final, beaming smile my way. My heart swelled seeing how happy he was. I lingered by the McLaren garage, watching him fall back into his pre-race routine. As I waited, Charlotte stayed with me, giving me a quick rundown of the paddock scene. The energy was buzzing, filled with engineers shouting, journalists hunting for stories, and drivers moving from garage to garage.
As Lando chatted with his team, I noticed a few heads turning in my direction, whispers circulating among the crew. It wasn’t long before Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s former teammate, appeared with his trademark grin, clearly having caught wind of the new face in the paddock.
“Oi, Norris!” Daniel called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve been holding out on us, mate! Who’s this lovely lady?”
Lando looked up, a sheepish yet proud grin spreading across his face. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s finally here to see me race.”
I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned toward me. Daniel's grin widened, his playful nature kicking in immediately. “Girlfriend, huh? And you kept her hidden all this time? Smart move, mate.”
He walked over, extending a hand to me. “Daniel, nice to meet you. I’ve gotta say, we all wondered if Lando had someone special cheering him on from the shadows. Now I see why he’s been driving so fast. Gotta impress the missus, eh?”
I laughed, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel. And yeah, I’ve been watching all the races from home. I’m finally getting a front-row seat.”
Before I knew it, more drivers began to gather around, curious to meet Lando’s mystery girl. George Russell approached with a friendly smile. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Norris in line? Good job,” he said, giving Lando a teasing nudge. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Oh, shut up. Just because you guys didn’t know doesn’t mean I was keeping secrets.”
Charles Leclerc joined the group, his charming smile lighting up his face. “Y/N, right? I’m Charles. It’s nice to meet you. I have to say, Lando’s been very quiet about you, but now I see why. He was trying to keep you away from us.”
“Not a bad idea,” Lando chimed in, trying to sound casual, but I could sense a slight edge to his tone. “You lot can be a bit much sometimes.”
Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease Lando. “Come on, we’re not that bad! Besides, now that she’s here, we can all get to know her better.”
As the group chatted, I could feel Lando's arm subtly wrap around my waist, a gentle but possessive gesture. I couldn’t help but smile to myself; he was clearly proud to show me off but also keen to make sure everyone knew I was his.
Max Verstappen wandered over next, always one to enjoy a bit of friendly banter. “Lando, man, you’ve been hiding her from us because you knew we’d try to steal her away, huh?” he said with a playful smirk.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lando shot back, his tone light but his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.
As we continued to chat, I noticed Carlos Sainz giving me a slightly lingering look. He flashed me a charming smile. “You know, if you ever get tired of this guy, you could always come cheer for Ferrari,” he joked, winking.
I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted teasing, but I felt Lando tense beside me. He tried to play it off with a chuckle, but I could tell the idea of me getting attention from his friends—even if it was in jest—was stirring a little jealousy.
“Alright, alright,” Lando cut in, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of possessiveness. “I see what you’re all trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Y/N is here with me, and that’s how it’s staying.”
Daniel, always quick to pick up on vibes, grinned broadly. “Look at him getting all protective! I think we’ve found Lando’s kryptonite, boys.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I have someone to protect,” he shot back, which earned a chorus of “ooohs” from the group.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly, leaning in close to whisper, “You know they’re just messing with you, right?”
He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone hitting on you—even as a joke.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
#fanfiction#reader insert#fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#fluff#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula racing
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we can’t be friends (wait for your love) | max verstappen x best friend! reader
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen, kellypiquet, and others
yourusername maxxie won in brazil! so so so proud of my best friend 💗
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user372 okay but compare y/n’s post to kelly’s and you can tell who actually is proud of him
↳ user33 one of them only posts when he wins and the other posts congratulating him no matter the results
maxverstappen ecstatic to have you in the paddock this past weekend! thanks for coming y/n/n
↳ yourusername i’m there whenever you want me to be maxxie!
kellypiquet so so proud of my boy!
↳ yourusername so proud of him too! 💗
user81 kelly staking her claim on max like y/n and max aren’t just friends 😭
↳ user44 you don’t know the lore??? go check user711’s pinned on twitter… rip y/nmax ☹️💔
francisca.cgomez great to see you around this weekend! missed you tons bbygirl 💗
↳ yourusername missed you tons kiks, so so grateful to have seen you this weekend 😘
user4 missed the ynmax content </3
↳ user71 when we went YEARS without ynmax content because kelly told y/n she didn’t like her relationship with max :(
twitter user771 pinned tweet!
kellypiquet
liked by maxverstappen, yourusername, and others
kellypiquet still riding the high ☄️
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yourusername so so proud of him! can’t believe it!
↳ kellypiquet p’s asking when auntie y/n can come over
↳ yourusername give me a date and a time and i’ll babysit for you!
user832 only posting when he wins is crazy 😭
user18 diabolical move telling y/n (the ultimate mom friend) that her daughter wants to see her auntie y/n
↳ user33 plotting how to get rid of y/n using P
maxverstappen ❤️
messages between Kelly and y/n
kellypiquet and maxverstappen
liked by landonorris, carlossainz, and others
kellypiquet and maxverstappen baby verstappen coming may 2025!
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user33 no y/n in the likes ???
↳ user72 ynmax drought again????
↳ user21 definitely something to do with max and kelly having a baby together ☹️💔
carlossainz congratulations to the two of you!
↳ maxverstappen thank you carlos!
landonorris that was.. unexpected. godfather lando 2025!
↳ maxverstappen and who said anything about you being godfather?
user91 the way y/n would’ve been the mother of max’s kid if they both stopped being delusional 💔
↳ user61 leave them alone my god, do you y/n fans ever stop being weird
↳ user91 nah this has gotta be kelly’s burner or something 😭
lewishamilton congrats man! happy for you!
↳ maxverstappen thank you! means a lot coming from you
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others
yourusername while i am not officially a musician, i have dabbled in music before… here’s my first ever single, we can’t be friends, out friday! i hope you love it just as much as i do.. and a special thank you to charles_leclerc and lewishamilton for helping produce and cowrite this song!
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lewishamilton thank you for letting me help produce this song! so so proud of you and how far you’ve come from the little girl in the paddock chasing around her papa and his drivers to now being an official marketing and pr agent
↳ yourusername thanks lew! i appreciate you so so much! truly such a blessing for you to help me out with this!
user832 okay but album when?
↳ user1 CHILL she just released a single
user44 and when we get an album about what truly went down 2016-2020 then what
↳ user33 hey so actually let’s not because i’ll go insane
charles_leclerc thank you for letting me compose some of the piano parts! it was a blessing to be able to work with you
↳ yourusername no, thank you for helping me get the ideas out of my head! so honored to work with you on this piece
messages between max and y/n
this was definitely not what was supposed to come out first, but i figured posting this which was sitting in my drafts was better than trying to write and add photos to a new smau! so hurt my feelings, which is max x ex! reader, will be out sometime by the end of the week (or beginning of next week at the latest)! this is very short, but i do really like this one and wanted to post it to garner feedback on what everyone seems to like seeing from me! likes and reblogs are appreciated.. (also i am working on a taglist and masterlist, so comment down below if you’re interested in being added to a taglist!)
#f1 smau#formula one#f1 social media au#f1 imagines#formula one imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen smau#formula one social media au#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#max verstappen series#max x reader#f1 x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one angst#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula one x reader#formula one smau#we can’t be friends universe
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♈︎ 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 ♈︎
✶ Aries in 1st: Being ruled by the planet Mars, these natives give a bold and invigorating first impression. What you see is what you get with Aries in the first- they have a raw and honest personality- which can be off putting for some people because it can be taken as rude depending on the person/situation- but I have to say you must admire them for being so tenacious and authentic in nature. I can hands down say the best quality about Aries in the first is what you see is what you get! They have a strong ego here, are not ashamed of their behaviors, body or personality - regardless of what others say to or about them. ✶ Aries in 2nd: Bold spenders, can be quick to have, give away and lose money. Fleeting self worth and values- can feel and act confident one hour and then shy and shameful the next. Values honesty, integrity and sense of self- this may be because they don’t have the greatest sense of self. Believes that kids and the younger generations have the most value in the world. Having children of their own could be of the greatest importance- OR (and this is a big or) they could never want kids and value connecting to their inner child and independence greatly. It’s one or the other. Can feel at war with their finances and self worth.
✶ Aries in 3rd: Athletic and popular in middle school/high school. Known for their leadership skills and qualities amongst their peers, classmates, cousins and siblings. Can be the youngest of their siblings or babied by others. Intellectually motivated, driven and competitive. Impulsive and passionate in their speech. May say things for shock value or improv their actual knowledge. Finds stimulation in an intellectual debate and arguing. It’s hard to win an argument with these people because they speak so quickly- their arguing style is just backing people into a corner mentally, they don’t give up easily. However, they can regret things that they say when they are angry or upset.
✶ Aries in 4th: Huge indicator of raising yourself as a kid. Family required you to be very active, you could be the most successful in your family as an adult because of this. Family is a point of weakness for you, mainly because they possess a lot of “childish” qualities. You may feel like your parents/guardians were big babies and never grew up. You could put a lot of energy towards your family, but could have a shorter fuse with them over all people. You may be the youngest out of your entire family. Your family could be competitive with you our vise versa. Your family could be the start of your “Villan Arc” 💀- your family may have childish values, argue a lot or they may be a “board game family”. TW - Worst case scenario- violence in the home.
✶ Aries in 5th: Play fights when flirting, aggressive flirters, acts like they hate their crush. I have this placement lmaooo and I LOVE to play fight with my man- like btch?! You wanna go!?!?!? It’s so much fun to me and usually leads to s*xies ayyye. But that’s definitely a me thing, I love to talk smack to my significant other- that’s how it’s always been. Being competitive, NO BORING DATES EVER! Known to have secs on the first date. Passionate- goooood lovers. Either wants to have kids right away or doesn’t want kids at all- this I huge independence thing that keeps them from not wanting to have kids. You can’t be the baby, if you have a baby! Commitment issues.
✶ Aries in 6th: Enjoys active routines and work place. Known to work in establishments with competitive pay and many enemies in work place. Can be scene as bossy by their coworkers. Needs to be weary of being hypocritical of their coworkers. Temper at work. Benefits from a workout routine. Needs to take out stress and anger from work & daily responsibilities. Can be very active or have hyper pets, may need a big back yard to run their dogs or other animals in. Competitive in health and motivated to be the best version’s of themselves. Picky with their diet and what they decide to put in their bodies. Can have an all or nothing attitude- because theirs definitely a reason why they are so picky. Usually this stems from poor self care habits and bad physical health. ✶ Aries in 7th: Passionate and assertive lovers, the fire they feel for their committed partners are unmatched. They may loose interest beyond physical lust- especially if they don’t take they time to figure out whether or not they ACTUALLY like someone. These individuals could truly find good in anyone so it’s important that they don’t project their desire for commitment onto someone else. They can date or be friends with some bold and persistent personalities- even bossy. It’s important that these natives find someone who will give them some wiggle room to find themselves. These people find out who they are through trial and error in their relationships - it’s typical for these natives to have “failed relationships” that lead them to find out what they definitely don’t like- which leads them to their ultimate truth.
✶ Aries in 8th: This gives the native a hyper-vigilant quality to the native with Aries in 8th. In the past the native may have been made to feel like they didn’t belong, maybe they were bullied, or judged for something they couldn’t control. This may lead them to be on edge, secretive and even defensive about who they are authentically. They are very protective about who they actually are because they have been hurt before- many of these people are Virgo Risings, so it’s interesting to see that this may be one of the reasons why they are so hard on themselves and receive a judgmental sort of reputation. ✶ Aries in 9th: I love this placement so much honestly, because a lot of these natives have the philosophy that they can go after anything that they want. They have a particularly strong sense of self and actually may have a hard time understanding why other people don’t go after what they want or believe in themselves and their dreams. This is a super hard working placement IMO - it gives very much that “I want it, I got it!” vibe! It’s very possible at a time in their life that no one believed in these individuals so they just had to prove themselves to the world, and that’s so beautiful.
✶ Aries in 10th: Go getters in their career- they do best when they are their own boss- they definitely don’t do well with being told what to do because of their sensitive nature. However, they have a lot of creativity and art to give to the world. They need a career that is authentic to who they- a simple 9-5 WILL NOT cut it for these people. So if you’re an Aries 10th and you’re still trying to make your boring, loveless day job work- this is why. It is not in your genetic code to be running someone else’s business 😂 you are the business starter- not finisher! Quit diminishing your own light because I know y’all are hard on yourselves regardless. Pick your hard and go after it!
✶ Aries in 11th: Leaders of the pack, these natives love bringing their friends together and being absolutely crazy with their friends. They are naturally socialites and feel their best when they are interacting in their community and collaborating with like minds. These people live for their down time, special niche hobbies and interests. They work hard to play hard. They may also have some pretty strong humanitarian values they stick by, these natives have no problem with telling people their opinion on any given situation and they really don’t care what you have to say about it 😆
✶ Aries in 12th: With Aries in the house of isolation, hidden endings, mental health, dreams and subconscious awareness- this can make a native who suppresses their anger deeply and keeps a lot of their authentic reactions to themselves. They may feel more comfortable expressing this rage internally or when they know nobody else is around. They may be completely out of touch with their anger and impulses. They could have to isolate before taking action towards their authentic desires or dreams. Dreams can be violent and they may have intense nightmares. These natives can work out their best alone- although they usually like to workout with someone, this keeps them from pushing themselves for fear of being ugly or vulnerable. They don’t like to show their struggle to others, complain or their authentic side.
Happy Aries Season Everyone! I hope you are all safe and navigating eclipse season /mercury retrograde with ease. I am making a series out of the signs in the houses. I hope y’all are enjoying my content! Love you and thank you so much for reading my content and giving me feedback. This is such a sacred study to me. It is my life.
~Kya
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When they don't know you as well as they thought they did
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)
Main Masterlist
C/W: the boys are crushing on MC and it's implied MC is crushing as well, but there isn't any established relationship. Just friends feeling things for their friend, very common. Self-insert, perhaps?
A/N: this is just fluff, very silly, a little ooc maybe, but I'm not sure. I just wanted to make something fun and lighthearted after the recent news.
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No one is surprised anymore at the firmness the brothers speak with when they call you part of the family. Between the pacts and the unsolicited free therapy, it’s only fair, and only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the affection running through the House of Lamentation.
Still, there are instances every once in a while where, although it’s difficult at the beginning, the boys have no other choice but to accept the fact that you have a completely different life back in the human world and they may not know you as good as they would like.
It starts with the small things; embarrassing conversations where their ignorance gets you to laugh like a maniac more than a couple of times. There they are, blushing in self-consciousness while you cackle uncontrollably because they believed some urban legend about a faceless suited man with freakishly long arms.
Then, slowly, but surely, it turns into more personal things about you, like your irrational, downright, phobia of lizards or the fictional characters you’re surprisingly attracted to.
(Some of those aren’t human, which makes them all feel a strong sense of hope, but you don’t need to know that).
The brothers learn about your studies, favourite subjects and what you’d like to do with your future, even if it sounds hopeless or unlikely. They also keep every bit of information about your friends and family; little comments that you let go here and there and help them understand why you are someone they love so much.
The whole situation evolves in such a way that inviting them to your birthday party in the human realm seems to be the obvious next step.
‘It’s so I can celebrate it with all my loved ones’ you say, and they really can’t deny your offer after that.
So, after a few awkward introductions and half-truths about their origin, everyone is happily talking to each other and eagerly waiting for their turn to be with you.
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Lucifer, who has had a special interest in your family for a while, finds himself chuckling in understanding when your mother complains about the occasional mess in your room. In your defence, he feels obligated to partially throw his brothers under the bus and blame them for keeping you in a constant state of disarray, but then she says something that… perplexes him.
You don’t like perfection? His eyes open wide at the revelation and your mother chuckles, misinterpreting his expression. She doesn’t know who he really is or what he represents, after all.
Just how vast is the veracity of that statement? Does it refer only to a state of mind or do you apply it to everything else?
Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to feel too anxious before he remembers the little details. When your triumphal smile shone in the dimness of his room that time he made a silly mistake in chess, ultimately granting you the win; or when the Anti-Lucifer League managed to leave his hair unkempt for an entire day, which got you to shamelessly look at him for longer than any of his younger brothers would’ve ever liked.
Not being perfect isn’t something he would ever do consciously and he had always found solace in the fact that you like him despite his mistakes. However, knowing you actually like him because of those mistakes? Perhaps letting those cracks show in his façade isn’t so bad as long as it is for you.
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Not far from him, Mammon chats with your human best friend. There’s an air of competitiveness between them, both wanting to be the ultimate best friend, but it all stays light-hearted. There’s no real threat when Mammon gets to be your first demon, you know? It’s a unique position!
But he still makes sure to assert dominance by stating he would’ve made the perfect party for you, better than the one you’re currently enjoying; with food and decorations from the Devildom and the Celestial realm included, matching outfits and, of course, keeping everything hidden so you can have the best surprise of your life. He had thrown a lot of those with Asmo’s help back home, so he knows you love them!
Or he thinks you do, at least.
Your friend sniggers harmlessly when they hear that last part, pointing at him with an infuriating smartass attitude, and immediately shatters Mammon’s reality.
What the heck do they mean, you don’t like surprise parties? He’d done a lot of those back at the Devildom and you’d never complained, appreciative as you are, even helping him do the same for other’s birthday parties!
Sure, you had always looked dumbfounded by the loud cheering and the confetti after stepping through the door, but that was part of the fun… right? You would tell him if you wanted him to stop, wouldn’t you?
He feels a pang in his heart when the idea of you being uncomfortable for his sake appears in his mind, but it doesn’t make sense. While you undeniably treat him better than anyone else in all of the realms, you still correct him when you see fit and him making you unhappy on your own birthday would be one of those occasions.
He trusts you to confide in him when things are wrong just as much as you trust him to do his best. That’s what friends are for, after all.
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And where else would Levi be if not hidden in a corner playing with his DDD?
He had tried mingling with people at the party, or at least tried hanging around them, he swears, but conversations became repetitive and boring and then he received a notification for a daily reward from one of his apps, so, of course, he had to sit down to collect it. Then minutes passed as he completed minigames to power up his cards and… you get the idea.
So when a friend of yours walked towards him, complimenting the pins and badges on his bag and the faint music coming out of his headphones, sure, the evening started going way smoother.
He talks enthusiastically, just like any other time his interests are mentioned, wildly gesturing with his hands and letting the little bubble around them be full of their eager exchange. However, a casual lament from his companion stops him right in his tracks.
It’s a shame you don’t like anime…? His first reaction is to laugh, enumerating everything you’d watched, and later commented on, with him under a blanket in the tranquillity of his room, but the utter surprise in your friend’s face leaves him speechless.
You really don’t like it? But… But he’s made you see so many things! Did you like any of them? Did you lie to his face when you said you enjoyed them? He would’ve never chosen a best friend like that; you were not like that and he refused to believe the contrary.
Also, would a liar buy merch on their own like you did? Would they watch the best episodes again or listen to the soundtrack on repeat when they had a bad day? This new revelation only makes him aware he was the one to change your perspective of the fine arts and he’s damn proud of that.
You are still getting an earful when you get back home, though.
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Satan thinks the kid is a young cousin of yours, but he really hasn’t been paying attention to anything in a long while. How could he, when the enthusiastic toddler had taken their mother’s phone just to show him the family cat’s pictures and videos?
A Mackerel tabby cat, too chubby for his own good but not enough to be actually concerning; playing with feathers, blinking slowly, bumping his head against legs and shoulders, meowing sweetly and, basically, opening his heart in half and making it roam inside his chest like a butterfly.
What a good party.
He mentions all the stray cats behind his house, obviously leaving behind the name of the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, and all the times you’ve gone with him to feed them and play. Satan even shows pictures on his DDD and stops with an adoring expression when you appear on the screen, sitting on your toes with a kitty on your knees and smiling past the camera, straight at Satan.
However, what he hears next takes the air right out of his lungs. He sits down and clutches his pearls and the kid stares at him in anxious confusion, clearly witnessing but not understanding the severity of his distress.
Who, in their right mind, doesn’t like cats?
He remembers the first few times you had accompanied him to his route, intimidated and slightly lingering behind. Initially, he had assumed it was due to the novelty of your friendship or a possible fear of Devildom fauna, but nothing against cats!
Were you afraid of them or just plain uninterested? Why keep going with him if you weren’t as fond of them as he thought you were? Wouldn’t it be because of him, would it?
A warm feeling covers him like a blanket, makes him search for you with his eyes and then immediately blush when you excitedly wave at him, point at the kid and mouth ‘Cute cat!’
Yeah. Very cute.
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On the other hand, Asmo hangs out with the people responsible for the decorations of the party and compliments them on their work. The colours are well-coordinated, there’s nothing out of place and the distribution was thought with all the guests in mind.
Although he hasn’t been able to help in that regard, he’s made sure you would be the centre of attention that evening; a complicated feature coming from him, but he had never minded sharing the main spot just as long as you were the one by his side; and everyone knows that.
You look cute and pretty and hot in your outfit, a style that both compliments and pleases you. You also worked together in your makeup for hours before getting to the party.
However, taking that much time might have been due to scrolling through social media and gossiping so much, but never mind that. Everyone agrees you look incredible and that is more than enough for him.
It isn’t until one of your friends mentions how weird it is to see you wearing makeup that he dares take his eyes away from you to stare at them in disbelief.
He would’ve never guessed that given that one of your favourite pastimes together is makeup as a whole: going shopping, watching tutorials, following trends, doing your own next to each other, doing each other’s… And, even if he wants to use it, his charming power is useless against you, so he knows you do your makeup because you want to and not because you feel forced by him.
Whether it’s something you share because you enjoy it or something you enjoy because you share it with him, he isn’t sure, but he can swear on his precious damned soul that makeup isn’t a need for you.
It’s just a bonus to your beauty.
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Sitting at one of the tables, Beel is simultaneously talking to your older sibling while gulping down an entire plate of bite-sized snacks; thankfully, whatever apprehension anyone felt at his hunger died hours ago and now the conversation flowed more naturally, mainly centred around you.
As much as he loves having you near him and his brothers in the House of Lamentation and thinking of you as another member of the family, he is very interested in knowing how your human family is, especially your siblings. It’s another way of relating to you and making him feel closer.
Plus, he gets to know stories from your childhood you may never tell him on your own; anecdotes that will stay at the table he is currently sharing with your sibling.
Unfortunately, they reach a point where, although he wants to keep asking questions about you, doing so with a mouth full of food might end up with Lucifer’s scolding of the year. Also, he really wants to make a good impression.
So your sibling begins asking the questions. Surprisingly, they start with his tattoo; dark red curling around his muscles and almost going unnoticed under the colours of dusk. Beel smiles without giving it any importance because it really doesn’t have it, but forces himself to stop gulping down food when your sibling throws a fun fact about you.
You find tattoos attractive?
He feels an instant burning on his cheeks followed by the rapid beating of his heart and a knot in his stomach, but there’s also a faint unpleasant sour taste in his mouth.
You’ve never asked him about his tattoo, barely sparing a glance at it when you worked out together or he took off his jacket.
He wonders if you don’t like it or if you think it doesn’t look good on him because all he can remember is the focused look in your eyes while looking at his and the curve of your smile growing bigger as you listen to whatever he says, even when it is entirely about food, and…
You know what? He doesn’t really mind. He is fine with things as they are.
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As both a friend of yours and a fellow younger brother, Belphie respects your sibling’s decision to spill your darkest secrets and thoroughly enjoys the air of comradery between them.
Don’t worry, he won’t let it go past actual serious matters; if you want him to know any of that, he’d rather have you telling him yourself when you’re ready and not get betrayed by your sibling. Silly and harmless pieces of information, however? Those are more than welcome.
And he already has a favourite.
You need to hug plushies to sleep? Tell him more. He doesn’t judge you for feeling the need to hug toys or pillows while sleeping. Actually, he understands.
Do you have a favourite? Is it in the human realm or is it in your room back at the House of Lamentation? While he can recall seeing that ugly zombie iguana on your bed, he’s never seen you cuddling it while sleeping and, other than that, he doesn’t remember seeing one, so he wonders if you hide it somewhere when you know he’s going to your room; but what about those times he enters uninvited?
Does that mean you left your preferred plushie in your room in the human realm? Does that mean that you don’t actually need to hug anything to sleep?
Whenever you share a bed, which is pretty frequent, Belphie can sense an invisible barrier between you that he’s dying to break. It’s nothing physical, given that only he knows how truly comfortable your lap and your chest are, but it’s obvious in the way your hands hesitate to bring him closer.
Shy and indecisive, while you don’t reject his advances, he’s still unsure what your feelings on the matter are. He’d initially thought you weren’t used to having anything so close to you while sleeping, but… now… Maybe he has to assure you that you can hug him as hard as you want.
Belphie is just as good as any plushie, after all; if not better.
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I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).
I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense.
That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it.
And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit.
And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims?
Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.
Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing?
And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased?
Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.
He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own.
Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends.
Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.
You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust.
And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.
Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.
Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.
Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.
#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#baldur’s gate iii#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion headcanons#smooth brain astarion I will defend you until you can do it yourself#trauma can give you literal brain damage#of course he's a little eccentric#tw: trauma#tw: abuse#smooth brain astarion
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