#but this year it stole my brain and for that i apologize | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheftsunoda · 3 months ago

Text

beauty and brains

(part three)

smau + real life

(this part is quite wordy i apologize)

“jules goes to meet lando’s family and him and charles have a much needed conversation.”

Charles Leclerc x !Doctor Sister Reader x Platonic F1 Grid

Leclerc Reader x Lando Norris

part one

part two

part four

tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg , @msliz , @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 , @goldenstrawberryx, @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me, @htpssgavi , @cmgmikealson, @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog, @glow-ish

—

dr_jules_leclerc

japan 📍

liked by lando, quadrant, arthur_leclerc & 8,378,790 others.

dr_jules_leclerc : special day in japan w quadrant, libertywalkkato and the loml

see ya in suzuka bbs

—

lando : you are so fucking beautiful

lando : so happy to have you there with me angel

liked by author

dr_jules_leclerc : so happy to be there with you handsome- I am so proud of you<3

liked by lando

username4 : I am so happy they are happy^^ it warms my heart

username5 : they r so fucking cute

quadrant : our fave couple

liked by author and lando

arthur_leclerc : lando do you think it’s cool to just steal my big sister from me?

liked by author and lando

dr_jules_leclerc : arthur stop being dramatic - i will be in the paddock tomorrow

lando : I thought we agreed mclaren paddock tomorrow….

dr_jules_leclerc : I am splitting my time equally children.. you will both see me tomorrow.

pietra.pilao : absolutely loved getting to meet and hangout! (she is even more beautiful in person guys)

liked by author and lando

dr_jules_leclerc : you are the absolute sweetest! pls convince max to move you guys to monaco so we can hangout everyday😚

liked by pietra.pilao, lando and maxfewtrell

maxfewtrell : Trying my hardest to make it happen. Nice meeting you, Jules! So glad you gave Lando a chance- he is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.

liked by author and lando

alexandrasaintmleux : my beautiful angel 😻

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dr_jules_leclerc : love you smmmm pretty

leclerc_pascale : Je vous aime tous les deux!

liked by author and lando

charles_leclerc : Maman! You were supposed to tell Jules to stop ignoring me

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dr_jules_leclerc : charlie…i have not been ignoring you..i literally saw you two days ago

charles_leclerc : two days too many

dr_jules_leclerc : omg between you and arthur I can’t ever have a moments peace

liked by leclerc_pascale

leclerc_pascale : Maintenant tu vois ce que je ressens.

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arthur_leclerc : I have been betrayed by my own mother and SISTER

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username8 : I met Jules tonight and she was the absolute sweetest - definitely even more beautiful in person!

liked by author dr_jules_leclerc : so nice to meet you- thank you for the kind words!!

—

lando just made a post!

japan 📍

liked by dr_jules_leclerc, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri & 2,366,378 others.

lando : mega day at liberty walk hq with quadrant to launch our car/helmet combo- absolutely incredible to have the love of my life by my side. japan is even more special than usual this year. can’t wait to hit the track!

dr_jules_leclerc : so proud of you my angel- i will always be with you every step of the way! now go kick some ass on the track tomorrow 🤍

liked by author

lando : my love for you grows more and more each day

danielricciardo : get a room would ya

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : miss you danny😭 still planning that trip to aus and im bringing max bc my maxiel heart is hurting

liked by author, danielricciardo and maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: just let me know when the plane is leaving and I’ll be there

liked by danielricciardo and dr_jules_leclerc

username2 : JULES WILL BE THE ONE TO REUNITE MAXIEL I LOVE HER

maxfewtrell : 🇯🇵🔥

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username4 : was this an event for Jules or for Lando? because she stole the show..😍

liked by author

lando : she really did 😻 my girl is a stunner, ain’t she?

liked by dr_jules_leclerc

username4 : omg she absolutely is

lilymhe : fun time have been had lando now return my wife

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lando : settle it over 18 holes?

dr_jules_leclerc : she’d beat your ass babe

liked by lilymhe and alexalbon

monsterenergy : power couple

oscarpiastri : mate she looks cooler than you at your own event

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : love you osc

mclaren : we r in love with your girlfriend lando

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dr_jules_leclerc : you have my heart admin

—

real life - quadrant liberty walk event - jules pov

The energy buzzed through the cool Tokyo air, a perfect mix of roaring engines, camera shutters, and excited fans echoing off the walls of the Liberty Walk compound. I tucked my hands deeper into the pockets of my oversized jacket. I smiled to myself as I watched Lando animatedly talk cars with some of the team, his face lit up, bouncing slightly on his heels in that way he always did when he was excited. Five months into this whirlwind of a relationship, and it still didn’t feel real sometimes—being with someone like him, in places like this.

“Babe!” he called, spotting me across the lot, motioning for me to come over. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I weaved through the crowd, offering a few polite nods to fans who recognized me.

"Dr. Jules! Could we get a picture real quick?" a younger girl in the crowd asked me and I stopped abruptly.

"Absolutely." I said and leaned into the group and she snapped the photo.

"Have a good night! You and Lando are perfect together." She said with a smile.

"Thank you mon ange, you have a good night! I hope you have fun." I said with a smile and then walked to join Lando.

Lando reached for your hand as you reached him, lacing your fingers together before tugging you gently toward a grinning guy standing next to a girl with long blonde hair and killer style.

“This is my best friend, Max—And this is his girlfriend, Pietra,” Lando said, his voice proud, like he was presenting a prized possession. “Guys, this is her- I told you she was real- Dr. Jules Leclerc.”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes at Lando before extending your hand. “Just call me Jules- no need for formalities- I promise I’m not as mysterious or important as he makes me sound.” Earning a glare from Lando.

Pietra leaned in and gave me a quick hug instead of a handshake. “Finally! He talks about you all the time. I was starting to think you were a figment of his imagination.”

I smiled warmly. “I’ve been buried in the hospital the past few weeks, but I couldn’t miss this.”

“You’re a pediatric oncologist, right?” Max asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s intense.”

I nodded. “It has its moments. But I love it.”

Lando gave my hand a small squeeze, and when I glanced up at him, he was already looking at me with that soft, proud expression he reserved just for me. “She’s basically a superhero,” he said, only half-joking.

“Oh god,” I muttered, cheeks burning. “My head won’t be able to fit through the door if you keep this up.”

Max and Pietra laughed, clearly already warming to me.

“It is very impressive, something to really be proud of. You should have a massive ego.” Max said with a chuckle and Pietra nodded.

“We’re getting food later with the rest of the team,” Pietra said, looping her arm through mine casually. “You better come. I want to hear all the embarrassing Charles stories.”

I laughed. “Deal—but only if you promise not to tell him.”

“And I want to hear the embarrassing way Lando asked you out.” Max chuckled as he walked beside Lando.

“I think we can skip that today.” Lando said eyeing me and I chuckled lightly.

As the four of us fell into easy conversation, I couldn’t help but glance at Lando, his arm still loosely around my waist, his eyes sparkling. The event was exciting, sure—but this? This felt like something quietly perfect. Like I was exactly where I am supposed to be.

The soft hum of the plane’s engines was the only sound in the first-class cabin, dulled further by my noise-canceling headphones that currently played nothing but the low, steady rhythm of my own heartbeat. Lando was stretched out beside me, legs long, one arm slung across his lap as he scrolled through his phone. Every few seconds, his thumb would stop, and he’d glance at me.

I tried not to fidget. I was usually good under pressure—my whole career was built on staying calm in life-or-death situations. But this? Meeting Lando’s family for the first time? Terrifying.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I mumbled, turning my head toward him with a tiny smile.

“Like what?” he asked, wide-eyed and completely innocent, though the twitch of a smirk gave him away.

“Like you’re waiting for me to bolt out the emergency exit.”

He laughed under his breath and reached over to tug one of my headphones off. “I’d tackle you before you even hit the aisle.”

I rolled my eyes but leaned into him slightly, his warmth grounding me. “I just… I’m nervous.”

“Why?” he said, voice soft now. “They’re going to love you.”

I gave him a look. “Because I’m your girlfriend. And—newsflash—I don’t exactly have a laid-back job. What if I say something weird or fall asleep mid-convo from exhaustion? What if I spill wine on your mum’s rug or call your brother the wrong name—”

“Okay, okay,” he cut in, chuckling, slipping his hand into mine. “First of all, my mum already loves you and she’s only seen a photo. She literally asked if you were the one who saved that little boy from the racing-themed tumor project. Like… you’re halfway to sainthood in her eyes.”

I laughed softly, the tension in my shoulders easing a little.

“And second,” Lando went on, “my family is chill. No pressure, no royal protocol, no calling anyone sir—except maybe me, if you’re feeling flirty.”

I swatted his shoulder playfully, cheeks heating. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to my temple. “But I’m ridiculously into you.”

I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder as I stared out the window. The clouds below looked like cotton stretched thin, and the sun was just beginning to dip, painting the sky in streaks of apricot and lavender.

“Do you think your little cousins will like me?” I asked quietly after a beat.

“They’re obsessed with anything F1. And you’re a literal doctor. I’m not even the cool one in this relationship anymore.”

I chuckled. “You never were.”

Lando gasped dramatically and pretended to be wounded, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ouch. My ego.”

I reached over, brushing my fingers along his wrist. “I’ll make it up to you. Just… hold my hand when we land, yeah?”

“Always.”

—

I barely had time to adjust my hoodie—Lando’s hoodie, as always—before the front door burst open and chaos immediately ensued.

“LAN-DOOOOO!”

A blur of tiny limbs flew at him, arms wide like they were mid-flight. Lando stumbled backward, laughing as one of his younger cousins tackled his waist. Another followed seconds later, shouting something about who won the last family karting race.

I stayed just outside the doorway, suitcase in hand, watching it all unfold with a half-nervous, half-amused smile. Honestly, it was adorable. Chaotic, yes—but adorable.

Then a new voice cut through the mayhem.

“Alright, give him a second to breathe—he’s not going anywhere!”

I looked up as a woman appeared from the hallway—poised, but warm, with the kind of presence that made me instinctively want to stand up straighter. Her eyes found mine immediately, and the smile that bloomed on her face was the kind that made my chest loosen just a little.

“You must be Jules,” she said, already stepping forward with her arms out. “I’m Cisca. Finally—I’ve heard about you nonstop.”

I hugged her, a bit surprised by how natural it felt. “It’s really lovely to meet you.”

“No, darling. It’s lovely to finally have you here.”

Before I could answer, another voice piped up behind her—calm, curious, and just as warm.

“Is this the famous doctor we’ve been hearing about?”

A tall man with graying hair and kind eyes stepped forward, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. This must be Lando’s dad—Adam. I straightened instinctively, not quite intimidated, but definitely a little on edge.

“Hi,” I offered with a soft smile, extending my hand. “Jules.”

“Adam,” he replied, shaking my hand firmly, then smiling. “We were starting to think you were mythical.”

“She is,” Lando cut in from behind me, dropping the suitcase to the floor and wrapping an arm around my waist. “Mythical, magical, and very much mine.”

I shot him a look. Adam laughed.

“I see the charm’s still running on full power.”

Before I could respond, a new presence slid into the hallway with a graceful sort of energy—cool, confident, and stylish without even trying.

“Hey,” she said with a wide grin. “You’ve got to be Jules. I’m Flo.”

I took her in immediately: Lando’s sister, effortlessly beautiful and clearly used to sizing people up fast—but she was smiling, which gave me hope.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” I said, returning the smile.

Flo raised a brow. “All good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” I said, glancing at Lando, who looked suddenly far too pleased with himself.

The introductions started to blur after that—more cousins appearing from every room, snacks being offered like it was a competition, and multiple requests from the younger kids to show them how to do CPR “just in case.” I politely declined.

Flo pulled me aside once during the biscuit tornado and said, low enough so only you could hear, “Don’t take anything personally—this house is a zoo when everyone’s home. But… you fit in, weirdly well.”

It hit me unexpectedly—the weight of that sentence. I fit in.

Dinner was a mix of laughter, teasing, and gentle nudges from Cisca every time someone brought up Lando’s childhood phase of trying to name every Formula 1 driver’s pets. Adam asked about my work—genuinely curious—and even the little ones eventually quieted enough to eat. Flo talked to me like a sister you didn’t know I needed, and Lando? He couldn’t stop smiling.

Later, as I helped clear the table, Cisca touched my arm gently.

“Thank you for coming, Jules,” she said quietly. “You’re very… grounding for him.”

I blinked, then smiled, heart aching in that soft, slow way it did when something really mattered.

“Thanks for having me,” I whispered back.

And as I stepped back into the living room—Lando perched on the armrest of the couch, motioning for me to sit between him and Flo—you realized something else:

It already felt a little like home.

—

I barely had time to breathe after dinner before another voice rang out from the hallway.

“Oi! Is she here yet or did you scare her off already?”

I turned just in time to see a tall, sharp-featured guy with the exact same mischievous grin as Lando walk into the room, carrying a box of beers in one hand and a duffel in the other.

“That’s Oli,” Lando whispered under his breath with a crooked smile. “Brace yourself.”

“I heard that,” Oli called, shooting Lando a mock glare before turning to me. “So you’re the doctor-slash-twin-sister-slash-person willing to put up with this idiot?”

I blinked, then grinned. “Guilty.”

Oli set the beer down, dropped the bag, and walked straight up to ,e like I was already part of the family. “Respect. Honestly. Can I shake your hand, or do I have to go through a background check?”

“Just the handshake should do,” I deadpanned.

He laughed, clearly already loving me. “Alright, she’s cool. Lando, you might actually be in trouble.”

“Might?” Flo called from across the room, where she was stealing the last chocolate biscuit off a plate.

Just then, a new figure stepped in behind Oli—a woman with dark brown curls pulled into a loose braid, subtle makeup, and the calm energy of someone who’d spent her whole life being the observer in a storm of louder siblings. She smiled when she saw me, kind and open.

“Hi. I’m Cisca—junior, not mum,” she said, extending her hand. “Sorry we’re late. We got stuck in traffic and then Oli had to stop for snacks.”

“I told you I was starving,” he muttered, heading for the fridge.

I shook her hand, already liking her immediately. “Jules. It’s really nice to meet you.”

She leaned in a little, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Don’t let them overwhelm you. We tend to… swarm.”

I laughed. “I’m used to swarms. Pediatric oncology’s basically organized chaos with tiny humans.”

Oli popped his head out from behind the fridge door. “Oh god, you really are cool.”

Soon enough, the living room was full again—Oli cracking jokes, Flo calling him out on old stories, Cisca Jr. and I falling into quiet conversation on the couch about my work, and Lando sitting right beside me with a hand resting lightly on my knee, like even in all the noise, I was his constant.

At one point, Oli started recounting the story of how Lando accidentally reversed a golf cart into a pool on a family trip. Everyone roared with laughter—especially me, because the mental image was too much.

Lando just buried his face in my shoulder and groaned. “This is a violation of trust.”

“You brought me into the lion’s den,” I whispered, patting his back. “You had to know what was coming.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes sparkling, voice low. “Still glad you came?”

I didn’t hesitate. “So glad.”

The house had finally quieted.

The sound of laughter and clinking plates had faded into the gentle creaks of a house settling for the night. Most of the lights were off, except for the soft golden glow coming from the kitchen. I padded in, barefoot in one of Lando’s old hoodies—again—and found Cisca at the counter, stirring a mug of tea with slow, thoughtful movements.

She looked up and smiled, her expression calm and warm.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked, reaching for a second mug.

I shook my head, sliding onto one of the stools. “Too much adrenaline. I haven’t socialized that hard since med school.”

Cisca laughed gently and passed me a mug, chamomile and honey wafting up in soft curls of steam. “You handled it beautifully. They all loved you.”

I cradled the mug in my hands and looked down at it, the warmth grounding me. “It was a lot… but a good kind of a lot. Your family is amazing.”

She watched me for a second—really watched me—with that same steady, maternal gaze she’d had from the moment I walked in.

“You’re good for him, you know,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen him this… settled in a long time. Maybe ever.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the softness in her tone. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“You were just yourself,” she said, setting her spoon down. “That’s all it ever takes with the right people.”

I swallowed, something about her words landing deep in my chest.

“I was nervous coming here,” I admitted. “Not because of you or your family—but because… I know how close you all are. And I guess part of me wondered if I’d be too different. Too ‘doctor,’ too serious. Too… I don't know."

Cisca smiled gently, reaching out to place her hand over mine. Her grip was warm, comforting.

“Being close doesn’t mean we’re all the same. It means we show up for each other. And tonight, you showed up. For him. For us. That’s all we need.”

I felt my eyes sting a little—not with tears exactly, but something close. I blinked quickly and gave a small laugh. “Okay, if you keep being this nice to me, I will cry.”

Cisca squeezed my hand. “Then I’ll make you another cup and hand you a tissue. I’ve done it before.”

I looked at her, really looked, and saw a woman who had raised her kids with fierce love, sharp wit, and the kind of empathy that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. She didn’t need grand gestures. She just saw people.

“I really love him,” I said suddenly, softly.

Her eyes sparkled just a little. “I know you do.”

I sat in silence for a moment, sipping my tea, letting the quiet settle between us—not uncomfortable, but full. Like two women connected by someone they both adored deeply, each in their own way.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” she added a moment later.

I smiled to myself. “I remind him. Daily."

—

I closed the kitchen door as quietly as possible, mug still warm in my hands, my heart even warmer.

The lights were dim down the hallway, but I didn’t have to guess where Lando was. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed in one of his old hoodies, hair messy from running his hands through it, TV remote forgotten beside him. The second he saw me, his face softened like he’d been waiting to exhale.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, thumb brushing under his bottom lip as I walked over.

I nodded, slipping onto the edge of the bed beside him. “Your mum and I had tea.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Oh no. Did she—did she bring out baby pictures? Or worse, the ‘Lando in the bathtub’ ones?”

I laughed, leaning into his side. “No, no blackmail material. Just… a really lovely conversation.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear, eyes searching my face like he wanted to memorize every version of my calm.

“What’d she say?”

I hesitated for a second, then looked up at him. “That I’m good for you.”

Lando’s breath caught, and his hand slowed where it had been tracing lazy circles on my thigh.

“She’s right,” he murmured. “You are.”

I smiled softly and leaned into his chest, letting the quiet settle. The world outside the walls of this room—my job, the races, the headlines, even Charles and his inevitable protective sibling grilling—it could all wait.

Right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped in flannel sheets and sleep-heavy affection.

“She also said you’re lucky to have me,” I whispered against his hoodie.

He kissed the top of my head without missing a beat. “I am. So ridiculously lucky.”

The Norris kitchen was already buzzing when I came down the stairs the next morning. I was in one of Lando’s oversized hoodies again—this one with the faded Quadrant logo—and a pair of socks that barely matched. My hair was up, barely tamed, and I hadn’t even thought about makeup yet.

But the second I stepped into the room, four pairs of eyes flicked toward me. And then I felt it.

I blinked. “…What?”

Flo grinned around her coffee mug, clearly trying not to laugh. Oli leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk.

“Good morning, Jules Norris,” he said pointedly.

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “That’s not even funny.”

Cisca Jr. glanced at her mum, who was very pointedly looking down at the toast she was buttering—but her smile was giving everything away.

Lando walked in right behind me, still sleep-warm and squinting at the brightness, and reached for my hand like it was second nature. Everyone noticed. I could feel it.

He yawned, totally unbothered. “Morning.”

Oli raised an eyebrow. “So you’re just casually holding hands in front of us now, huh?”

“Is this an official soft launch?” Flo teased, bumping my elbow. “Or are we already past that and in the ‘planning the wedding playlist’ era?”

Lando didn’t even let go of my hand. He just looked around, deadpan. “I’ve been in love with her for months. What stage do you think we’re in?”

I turned slowly to stare at him, heart suddenly thudding louder in my chest. He met my gaze like he meant every word.

Silence fell over the kitchen—except for the loud clink of Oli’s spoon dropping into his bowl.

“Well then,” Cisca said, setting down the toast, eyes twinkling. “I suppose we should start planning seating arrangements.”

Everyone burst into laughter, but Lando never looked away from me. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, grounding, steady.

I bit your lip to hide my smile. “We’ll start with brunch first.”

He smirked. “Then forever.”

—

dr_jules_leclerc just posted!

liked by ciscanorris, flonorris1, leclerc_pascale & 4,363,628 others.

dr_jules_leclerc : lando took me to meet his family and now i am the favorite

ciscanorris : We miss you already! Come back soon❤️ Love you both!

liked by author and lando

lando : we love you mum

flonorris1 : best sister in law i ever could’ve asked for 😉

liked by author and lando

leclerc_pascale : So glad you both had a good time! Safe travels.

liked by author and lando

ciscanorris : You raised a great girl, Pascale.

liked by author, lando and leclerc_pascale

leclerc_pascale : And you raised a wonderful man!

liked by author, lando and ciscanorris

charles_leclerc : great now come back to monaco pls

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dr_jules_leclerc : alex come get your menace

liked by lando, arthur_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

arthur_leclerc : it’s my fault- i keep calling lando our brother in law

liked by author and lando

charles_leclerc : they are NOT married

lando : doesn’t mean we will never be charlie 😚

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charles_leclerc : bad answer

—

lando just posted!

liked by ciscanorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri & 3,378,368 others.

lando : can’t wait to make her dr. jules elise leclerc-norris (i added leclerc so charles won’t kill me)

ciscanorris : My beautiful children!

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

mclaren : glad you both enjoyed your break! 🧡

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dr_jules_leclerc : miss you admin!

charles_leclerc : did not make it any better

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carlossainz55 : Am I best man??

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dr_jules_leclerc : you can always be a bridesmaid too

adam_norris_pure_electric : Very excited to brag about my daughter in law who saves lives everyday!

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lando : your son driving in f1 is no longer brag worthy?

adam_norris_pure_electric : lando she literally saves lives everyday - a SUPERHERO

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oscarpiastri : You guys are so cute it makes me sick to my stomach.

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

—

It had been a couple of days since Lando and I flew back from the whirlwind family visit. I was back at work, deep into patient rounds and case notes, and Lando had been catching up with sim training, press, and a full inbox of post–triple header chaos. The house was still littered with half-unpacked bags and the soft scent of my perfume clinging to his hoodie on the back of the couch.

And today—finally—Charles came over.

Charles sat across from Lando on the balcony, legs stretched out, espresso in hand. He looked relaxed—but Lando knew better. There was a storm under all that calm. There always was when it came to me.

“So,” Charles said finally, eyes squinting against the sun. “You and Jules.”

Lando swallowed, setting down his coffee.

“Yeah. Me and Jules.”

“She’s serious about you.”

It wasn’t a question—but it hung in the air like one.

“I know,” Lando said quietly. “I’m serious about her too. More than I’ve ever been with anyone.”

Charles looked at him for a long beat. No teasing, no narrowed eyes. Just watching.

“I always knew someone would come along,” he said eventually, “but I didn’t think it’d be a driver.”

Lando didn’t flinch. “I didn’t think it’d be your sister. So here we are.”

A twitch of a smile—barely there—but it made Lando feel like he hadn’t already lost the fight.

“I’ve seen her go through hell and still walk into that hospital every day like she’s made of armor,” Charles said, voice low now, all truth. “She doesn’t let people in easily. Not really.”

“I know,” Lando murmured. “But she lets me in. And I don’t take that for granted.”

Charles stared down into his coffee for a moment before asking the thing that mattered most.

“What do you want with her?”

Lando didn’t hesitate.

“I want to build a life with her.”

Charles looked up.

“I’m not saying tomorrow. I know she’s got a career that matters and so do I. But when I think long-term, it’s her. Always her.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was full. Full of everything they didn’t need to say out loud anymore. Lando had shown up. He’d met the family. He’d seen Jules in chaos and quiet, in grief and joy. And through all of it, he stayed.

Charles finally leaned back in his chair, sighing through his nose.

“She talks about you like you’re… peace,” he said. “Like she finally stopped running.”

Lando smiled—soft, genuine. “She’s peace for me too.”

A long pause.

Then Charles clinked his espresso glass against Lando’s and said, “Don’t screw it up, mate.”

“No pressure,” Lando said, smirking. “Just the most important relationship of my life and your blessing. Easy stuff.”

Charles shook his head, smiling despite himself.

“I still might kill you if you ever hurt her.”

“I’d let you.”

Another beat of silence. Then Charles added, a little too casually, “So… when are you telling Maman?”

Lando’s eyes widened. “About what?”

“That she might be planning a wedding in the next year or two.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Let me propose first, man.”

“Tick-tock,” Charles said with a grin.

But underneath the teasing, Lando could feel it—the trust. It was real now.

—

omggg part three is finished! as always let me know if you guys want me to continue or if you have any requests for other stories! thank you for all your support this far!

#charles leclerc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula 1 #lando norris #mclaren #scuderia ferrari #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando fluff #f1 fic #arthur leclerc #oscar piastri #quadrant #lorenzo leclerc #leclerc!reader

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xi-vz · 6 months ago

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HC—Luo Binghe looks almost identical to Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky. (basically Airplane is hot but doesn’t realize it.)

•

Shen Yuan woke up back in modern China after spending sixty years in PIDW, so, of course, the first thing he did was message Airplane.

(That’s actually the second… third?…thing he did. The first was trying reach out to the system. The second was crying.) ((But if Shen Yuan were asked why he was crying he’d scoff. Tears? No way! His eyes were just dry.))

Anyway, he reached out to Shang Qinghua—who, by the grace of God, came back with him—and found out that they both lived in Hong Kong. And not only that, but in the same neighborhood! Which was insane, but also very lucky. Maybe even too lucky? The universe never usually helped them out. Maybe this kindness of them being so near each other was an apology from The System? Whatever it was, it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The two agreed to meet on a Saturday, when Shen Yuan didn’t have school (being back as a senior in high school sucked).

Here’s the thing, Shang Qinghua sent a long winded text as a warning about how he looked very different. Which…fair. Everyone in PIDW was gorgeous, and people in the real world were not like that.

They agreed to meet at a café. Shen Yuan had sent Shang Qinghua a selfie so the man knew who to look for. It was a decent selfie, one Shen Yuan may have spent too much time on. It was a mirror selfie, showing off a nice outfit and Shen Yuan throwing up a peace sign. The photo showed an older teenager, with black hair that fell to his shoulders, large black eyes, and a silly smile. (He sent the picture to his mom too.) ((Seeing his family again was a whole other story better never to be told. There were a lot of tears and hugs on Shen Yuan’s part. It was a little embarrassing.))

Shen Yuan had gotten to the café early, snagging a corner table and waited with two iced lattes. He watched people out of the window. The streets were busy with both pedestrians and cars, there were delivery bicyclists and people carrying shopping bags. It was crowded. And loud. And dirty.

Being back was weird.

But, having indoor air conditioning was nice. And the internet! Oh God, he’d sell his kidney for the internet back home.

He blinked his eyes, his contacts felt harsh against them. Years without needing them made him forget what they were like. He should’ve worn his glasses, but had honestly forgotten where he put them. Maybe he should buy another pair? It wasn’t like he lacked the funds and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be in the modern world.

It was the chair across from him scrapping across the wooden floor that startled Shen Yuan back into focus.

His phone told him that Airplane was five minutes late.

“About time you showed u—Binghe?” Shen Yuan gapped.

“Close-ish?” Shang Qinghua flushed and adjusted his black framed glasses. His curly hair was kept in an undercut, he had pierced ears and a lip piercing and a sleeve tattoo on his right arm. He had freckles, dimples, and a 5 o’clock shadow too. Which. What? Okay. “Hi.”

That was Shen Yuan’s husbands face looking back at him! Sure, the eyes were black and there was no demon mark, but he intimately knew that face.

“Qinghua?!” Shen Yuan wheezed his name, his heart doing weird things in his chest at the fucking shock. “You look…you’re nearly identical to…”

“Yeah,” Shang Qinghua sighed, “imagine how surprised I was the first time I saw Binghe. The system stole my face!”

The voice was the same as Luo Binghe’s, even though the pitch was a little different.

And the body. Because…Shang Qinghua was tall? And muscular? And he was mother fucking LUO BINGHE.

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan stared.

Shang Qinghua sighed as he grabbed his iced latte. His nails were painted black.

“My brain can’t—” comprehend this. Shen Yuan’s mind was static. Error 404 bounced around in his brain.

Was this some sick joke? Did The System do this? Was he really back in the bamboo house resting in bed and having a weird as fuck dream?!

“Wanna take this somewhere else?” Shang Qinghua asked, his eyes darted around the establishment uncomfortably. People were staring. At him. Because he was fucking gorgeous.

Shen Yuan had So. Many. Questions.

“Is it as bad as your office at An Ding?” Shen Yuan asked, his lips curled disdain.

Shang Qinghua huffed a soft sound of amusement. “Where do you think Binghe gets his clean freak mentality from?”

“Wait,” Shen Yuan stood up when Shang Qinghua did. “When you said you wrote a self-insert, you didn’t mean Shang Qinghua??? You meant Luo Binghe?!”

“Well, yeah, bro.” It was surreal to hear the word ‘bro’ come out of that mouth. “Binghe is all the good, bad and ugly of me, amped up to eleven. Well…with bad at a fifteen.”

“Wait, what?” The hamster in Shen Yuan’s wheel of a brain began to run faster as thoughts began to practically explode. But there was one that was louder than any of the other:

Did this mean that Shen Yuan basically married Shang Qinghua?!

#shen yuan: could it be... that you're actually the real luo binghe? reverse transmigration???#shang qinghua #svsss #svsss shen yuan #shen yuan #svsss shang qinghua #the scum villain's self saving system

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happysparklingshadows · 8 months ago

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A Certain Hunger (4/?)

Chapter 3 ✿ Chapter 5

Summary: It's been a few weeks in this cabin, and thinking about being saved is getting a little bit bleak. So, you have a good idea for everyone to find a job to make things easier for your time being in Canada. You pick up a fishing rod, and everyone else picks up the gun to see who will become the hunter. You reconnect with a childhood friend and start to accept your new home.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Smut, HOMOSEXUAL SEXXX, Lowkey controversial entirely written sex scene with a character yall wouldn't guess lol, Lowkey mean reader, Depiction of a terminal illness and death of a mother, 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Homophobic slurs, Alcohol/drug use, gore and blood, depictions of mental health, depictions of death, 90s slang is used (411 means giving the tea or details of a situation to someone).

Word count: 13.4k

Notes: I want to apologize for my hiatus, but it was for good reason. I needed to care for my father, who got very sick around September last year when I was going to write the 4th chapter, and he has since been better. Sadly, I lost my motivation, but I have detailed notes for the following 8 chapters, and I will be trying to finish seasons 1 and two of the story as soon as I can before the third season airs! This year, for NANOWRIMO, I have decided to write for this story and see how far I can go within the next month or two. Thank you to everyone who was so kind and understanding about my disappearance and still loves my story!

“(Y/n), what the fuck is a ratio?” Jackie whispers to you loud enough for Shauna to hear beside you in a lull in math class. Mrs. Goldberg had to leave the class for some reason, you don’t remember why. You smile over at Jackie with her lovely brown eyes and take a good look at her. She’s as beautiful as you remember.

You chuckle as you look into your notes and say, “From what Mrs. Goldmen wrote, an ordered pair of numbers a and b, written a / b where b does not equal 0.” You read from your notes as Shauna and Jackie looked blankly up at you from the obtuse definition. You laugh with them, “Whatever the fuck that means!”

Jackie and Shauna laugh with you, but Jackie groans in frustration at the last question.

Taissa, behind you, leans forward and smiles, “What’s wrong?”

Jackie turns dramatically to Taissa as she pulls her paper over to Taissa; she just wants the answer now. You look at Jackie moving around as Van pulls your attention with a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, (y/n), can you help me with the first question? Jackie stole my answer key.” She joked as you turned to help her.

You giggle at her joke as you look down at the paper.

It was blank.

There weren’t even questions printed onto the page like you thought. You looked at your paper again, flipping it around but finding that it had nothing written on it either. It didn’t have the answers you thought you were writing on it.

You furrow your brows as you look up to Van, but the redhead isn’t there. Neither were the others. A chill runs down your spine as you start to remember.

The door of your old math teacher's class slams open, causing you to squeal and jump from your desk. That then was the only desk in the room. It was as if when your eyes looked away from something, it disappeared.

Mrs. Goldmen looks at you with a sad, sympathetic smile as she leads you to the hallway; you don’t have any control at the moment as your legs walk you down the hallway with her. Mrs. Goldmen's hand is on your shoulder as she says words that have been etched into the gray matter of your brain. “Honey, your mother has gone to the hospital, and your father is here to pick you up.”

You remember this. This was the day your mother’s health got so much worse. The day you became her caretaker.

Fat tears run down your eyes as you walk to the office door. Mrs. Goldman disappears when her hand leaves your shoulder. You look around for her; the hallways of your old high school are empty, and liminal darkness creeps in the corners of the walls. You felt an urge to go into the office.

You held the cold handle and turned the knob to the left to open the office door.

It wasn’t right.

You are met with the darkness of the woods, which has claimed you as its own. You turn, and the hallways no longer protect you from the cold forest. You scream as you are surrounded by woods again; the door stands alone with its hinges.

You feel the ripe cold air coming up your legs and arms; you hug yourself.

Howls from the trees start to chant above you. Every corner was a howl from a freakish, unnatural octave, and you started to feel the snow melt under your toes and the nip of the winter bite at the skin of your arms. Unbearable and cutting is how it felt—hunger in the air.

You look down at yourself and see something that drops your heart.

The gold heart necklace from Jackie’s Sweet 16.

You don’t think before you run. You run straight and away from trees as the howls follow you. Helpless as sticks and bushes stopped you as you rushed through the 4ft of snow.

You sob and run, knowing you are coming to an end. You are going to die. You should just stay still and watch with open eyes as they slice your throat, shoot you with an arrow, or stab you with a spear. So why would you run?

But you ran anyway.

Raw, cold toes feel the crunching of the snow. Twigs tickle between your toes and scratch when you lift your feet.

You don’t hear anything anymore. You are in the heart of the woods; the tree watches you as you finally fall onto a mound of snow. Nothing makes any sense. You cry and feel yourself shake with adrenaline; you need to keep going.

A chanting comes to your ears. You freeze in the moment; you hear yourself.

You crawl towards the song, French humming and chanting from a distance.

Over the hill, you see yourself dressed in your old headdress, the pink stain furs of a white rabbit made into a cloak with the head of a doe adorn on the top. You circle the campfire that cooks the meat; the others dressed in their cloaks watch with stabbing eyes.

The queen in the center watches a younger you dance around the fire. The Antler queen nods her head and looks around the circle.

You watch yourself take a satisfying bite of the fatty meat from the pan that cooked the chunks. The others immediately rush to the pan and take their share of the meat. The grease shines on your satisfied smirk on the younger self, bubbling in your stomach. “Wake up, " you blurt out to yourself in a panic.

You gag as your eyes fill with tears.

No.

No. You don’t want to remember this.

This wasn’t even the worst of it.

Stop.

Wake up (y/n) wake up wake up wake up wake up-

‘21

You wake up violently from your dream. You feel yourself lean harder onto the surface you were on and feel a darting pain from a rod in your neck. You gasp as you look around, realizing you weren’t in your house again.

The tree whispers to you again. You know it.

You stand in the wooded area behind your home. It was always comforting to hide in the trees and smell the sun's sweet earth, playing pirates or whispering about boys you never liked with Shauna and Jackie. This was your hideout as a child. You played fox and hounds and painted nails as you watched the sunset. You hate it now. It screams at you, and it itches your skin to be surrounded again; you need a little distance. Your breath is short again.

Your hands cling to the tree behind you, and you feel something in your hand: your pocket knife. You turn around to look at what you have done again. You stare back at the symbol. Even when you dream, you seem to find a way to protect yourself, even a little bit.

You put the knife in your nightgown pocket. And you backed away. Slowly accepting the fact that this is something you will never stop doing, no matter the pills, sleep therapy, or drinking, can make you stop sleepwalking to the trees when you think about them. It follows closely behind, no matter the distance.

Fucking Shauna.

When you went to her house last night, you weren’t planning on sleeping with her.

You were sitting at her island drinking coffee like you usually do. Ever since you returned from New York to Wiskayok, you reconnected with Shauna because of the brunches with Jackie's parents. You have been coming over for coffee to talk about your lives like regular people. It was refreshing to look at Shauna and see an adult woman instead of the girl you grew up with and survived with. Not seeing Shauna was especially hard after coming home from the wilderness because you were the closest to her before the crash, even before you knew who you were. You still don’t know who you are without her in some ways.

You both talk about the upcoming brunch, how you'll get a rabbit as a present, and how Jackie’s parents will talk down to you like they always do. But as the conversation continues, Shauna confesses that she and Jeff are in a deep dry spell. They haven’t touched each other in a long time, and how Shauna has not been touched in a long time. Then, without even thinking about it, you two start kissing each other.

Then, something instinctually comes over you as you kiss and touch each other. The planned 40-minute coffee became hours of love-making.

But as soon as the passion ended, you left. You felt satisfied and a little weird from your desperation with Shauna. You get dressed, kiss them goodbye, and return to your lives like it never happened, like it has always worked. You remember feeling so grateful Callie was sleeping over at her friend's house and Jeff was out of the house for the night for some reason.

When you drove home, all you thought about was your day with Misty and Natalie, Travis killing himself, and making love with Shauna. It was a blast from the past. As you entered your driveway, an intrusive thought came to mind: the image of a pan over an open fire frying chunks of meat.

You shouldn’t have gone to bed thinking about the past. This only happens when the team creeps into your space; they always do that if you give them a chance.

You thought grumpily as you walked back to your backdoor. Your cat, Ginger, rubs on your legs when you get into your backyard. Your nightgown has mud at the ends, and your feet are dirty; your toenails have dirt under them.

A black van passes by as you walk into your home. It hisses in the wind as it drives by. You look at it, worried someone will see the dirt on your nightgown and think you are some senile old woman.

You get back into your home and sigh. Rubbing the ache in the back of your neck, you start a pot of coffee for yourself before you start your day. You needed a moment for yourself before you had to act all day, masking all your quirks and characteristics to seem normal.

“You don’t think people can notice you’re a little crazy, right?”

You froze as you put your cup of coffee on the counter. You know that voice.

“I mean, I love you for how crazy you are, but you have been losing it a lot lately.” Jackie’s voice says behind you. She always stands in her yellowjacket uniform with curled hair; she looks precisely how she should be remembered. “Don’t want you to bite someone on accident.”

“I’ll try not to, Jackie. But you never know; someone might not know not to put their hand so close to my mouth.” You say back at her. You feel your eyes well; she was always so sad to remember even more when you see her. Her phantom has been long accepted and dreaded, but something that no one could stop. You didn’t know if you even would want her spirit to leave you.

“Well, you should comb your hair and take a bath. You look like death… smell like it too,” Jackie says, and as if she was never there, she was gone.

You sigh and rub your eyes. You turn back for your coffee and pour sugar inside of it, “It’s too early for this shit.” You mutter to yourself. You can’t get angry at this. It’s your best hallucination, and you couldn’t get mad with Jackie, never with her. You got to leave, but Jackie never got to the chance to live out of the cedar and butterfly weeds.

‘96

“Lottie, I know it is… fucking weird as shit. But we can’t pass up a house in the woods, okay? I didn’t see any books wrapped in human skin.” You say softly to Lottie as everyone finishes their breakfast of berries and gossip. You rub the stinging at the back of your neck that can’t go away.

“I know, but it just doesn’t feel right being in the same house as a dead body,” Lottie says back.

“Well, maybe we can make something for the house to ease, you know, the energies.”

“Like charms?”

“Maybe? I have never dealt with this situation, but I trust you can settle the energies here. You are so good at being a peacekeeper.” You say to her and put your hand on her shoulder; you take it off quickly because you still don’t know where you stand with her after last night's kiss. Because you know if the others were to look at you and check if you were gay, you would be quickly exposed.

“Thank you, (Y/n)...” She says, looking down at her shoes.”Are we okay? I didn’t mean to make things weird. I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

You smile, hiding the hurt, and quickly say, “Oh, my god, yeah, we are, Lottie. I get it. We have been through a lot, and we just wanted some comfort. It’s not a big deal.”

Lottie chuckles out of relief and pats your arm; she nods. “Okay, good; I didn’t want anything to be weird.”

“No, nothing is weird, Lottie.” You reassure her as you move yourself away. You want to peel your skin off, and a sudden loneliness surrounds you.

The morning moves on quickly. Travis sits on the porch with a gun, and you just stare at him as you walk to the campfire in front of the cabin with the angler's box and pole.

“Okay, everyone! We need to talk plans!” You announce in your loudest voice. Everyone circles the fire and the porch to listen to you; every morning since the crash, you have made an effort to set goals for the day and get through the days until rescue. “Okay, so we’ve been in these woods for ten days. We are low on food but shouldn’t worry too much longer. We now have a fishing line and a working pole with the help of Lottie and Shauna,” You say as you smile at the two. The others do the same, giving little thanks to the two blushing girls. “So, we’re not hopeless right now; anyone who wants to learn how to fish can come with me and see if you want to do that. But does anyone know how to use the rifle?” You ask the group and consider your list of things to speak about today.

Couch Ben clears his throat and says, “I went hunting with family before, so I can teach people who want to.”

You nod your head at him and say, “Okay! Everyone should try it out to see who is the best with a gun. We’ve been out here for a little bit, and I am sure we will have to take care of ourselves until they get here-”

Jackie interrupts, “So, we shouldn’t worry about the food because they must be close by now?”

You look over at her; you know why she is talking. She doesn’t want a job, and she doesn’t want to worry about getting saved. But it has been 11 days since the crash; you don’t want to kill hope.

“Well, kind of. We should be prepared if it takes them a few more weeks to find us in these woods. Jackie, we’re in the thick of it right now, so it would be better if we all tried to use the gun and see if we can hunt-”

“Well, are you going to try out the gun?” She asked you with crossed arms and a well-known tone of annoyance.

You suck your teeth and tilt your head to her, “No, I am going out fishing. I know I am good at it, so I will do that. You can try to see if you are good at hunting. It’s just a tryout.” To end this small conversation, you say, “Okay, so the goal for today is to find some food and learn some skills tonight. Mari, Laura, and Krystal have already volunteered to clean and do the projects we have started at the cabin, alright? Anything else?”.

No one else had anything to say. You nod as you hold up the fisher pole and say, “I am going to the beach to fish and make a little project. if anyone wants to come with me, you will find me.” You say this as you see that no one will move to fish with you for some reason. You nod and start heading out of the campsite and walking down Natalie's trail to the lake. A few nights ago, Natalie took the time to crave a path to the beach and plane with small crosses on the trees. She wanted everyone to be able to tell where they were in the woods without getting lost.

The days have gone by quickly lately since you all have found the cabin, and it's been getting to you a little bit. You didn't like the feeling of being able to find your way around the woods, even though it was convenient. It still would never replace your home. You missed home, and you can't tell anyone else about it.

As you walk down the trail deep in thought, the sun hits your eyes through the leaves, it reminds you of your backyard. It’s precisely like where your tree house stands just outside your home, where you can look out the window and see your mother washing dishes. God, you missed your mom. And as of an hour ago, she should have taken her morning medicine and had her legs messaged because she can’t walk around too much. You feel your throat tighten, and your body has a wave of emotional nausea.

“Hey, Wait up!” Shauna called from behind you on the trail.

You stop and smile at her, “Hey, Shauna. You coming with me?” you ask.

“Yeah, I don’t want to touch the gun. I don’t want to kill anything.”

“I get it. I hate fish, so I like killing them.” You joke to her with the best deadpan voice you can muster.

Shauna chuckles and shakes her head softly, “You’re a freak, you know that?”

“Oh yeah? You’re not going to say that when I get a fish.” You cackled. “You can just journal if you want; I am just going to make you help me make a lazy fisherman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a heavy stick supported with rocks with a hook and line attached. It just catches fish without anyone doing anything. You just raise the line, and hopefully, a fish is hooked.”

“We have hooks? What was in that box?”

“Not a lot, but it had a bait hook and a lure for the pole. It had some rusty hooks and oil for the pole. I made some hooks from the pop things on top of the cans.”

“The tab?”

“Yeah, I kinda cut them and made them like hooks. I’m thinking about making a net while we’re here.”

“You think we’ll be here long enough for that?”

“I don’t know; all I know is I will go crazy if I sit still too much. I overthink, you know.” You confess to Shauna as you come across a wide river a little off the trail from the lake. You and Shauna make some marks on the trees to make a path back to the trail.

After a while, the two of you settle up after making a lazy fisherman. It was easy to be around Shauna. You’ve been sandbox friends, and that kind of love never dies. You mainly talked about school and the annoying people you knew, like Randy. The biggest meathead you’ve ever met.

“Randy smells like Salmi and is cold to the touch but also is very hot when you stand near him.” You say to Shauna as you cast a line with a little bug at the end. You sit on the river's edge with Shauna sitting against a tree.

Shauna laughs out loud as she hugs her journal to her chest. And you keep going on your rant.

“Honestly, girl, If I ever hear him say the words Faggot or Dyke again, to Misty or Kevin or whoever. I’ll write a story about him eating Jeff’s ass and finally getting to feel Jeff’s sweet touch. Because you can’t tell me he isn’t in love with that guy.” You say with a laugh in your tone as you can’t talk straight. It’s ridiculous, but it was so funny to both of you. Shauna is snorting like a pig next to you, making you fall on your back, laughing.

“What the fuck?!”

“He thinks about gay people too much to not be gay!” You laugh louder. Both of you laugh until your sides hurt. It felt nice just to be girls for a moment in the woods, and you pretend you were at the back of your house with Shauna.

It lulls for a moment before Shauna asks, “Randy called Misty a dyke?”

“Yeah. At the Spring Fling.” You said with a little bit of sadness going through. You felt so bad for Misty in moments like that. “I remember when me, you, and Jackie got there after getting ready seeing Misty-”

“In that big puffy pink dress,” Shauna says, pointing a finger at you. She remembers, and she smirks a little. At the time, unfortunately, you laughed at her dress for being out of date and seemed to be “trying too hard.”

“Yeah… But Misty was just there and- I mean, I am not going to say Misty is cool or that she isn’t weird. Sometimes, I don’t know if she isn’t an alien, but she isn’t mean or disgusting.” You say as you gently rile in the line. You feel yourself frown a little bit. “She was standing in the corner without a date and any friends, and Randy just comes up to her and calls her an ugly dyke.” You say a little quieter.

“Oh my god, that is so horrible; why didn’t you tell me the 411?”

“I mean, I only knew because she cried when I went into the bathroom. I was a shoulder to cry on; I didn’t want to make it a thing if Misty didn’t want to. I wish I could have done something. Fuck Randy.”

“Fuck Randy!” Shauna agreed. Shauna looks at you fish peacefully as the sound of gunshots rings in the distance. You look over to her and think about the next thing to discuss.

“So, Jackie is mad at me, isn’t she? Jackie learning how to shoot a gun?” You ask her, point her to talk to you about Jackie. You love Jackie deeply, but she usually causes drama within the trio.

“Yeah, she is being a bitch lately.”

“Yeah, I think she has the worst attitude out of everyone, but I can’t be upset that she is trying to come to terms with the crash.”

“Okay, but she doesn’t have to fight everything you ask her to do. You’re just trying to help everyone.”

“Thank you. And yeah, I hope she will stop fighting me every step of the way, but we just don’t know how long we’ll be out here, so I just don’t think we should be so argumentative…” You sigh and look at her with wary eyes, “I’ll talk to her. Like I always do. It’ll be okay. We love each other. No fucking gun will get in the way.”

“You’re right. It’ll be okay. We must be here for each other before we’re rescued.”

“You're right.” You say as you keep watching your line in the water. Praying for a fish to take a bite

‘21

You smile as your father laughs at the TV. You rub your hands to apply lotion to his shaking ones. You and he were watching “I Love Lucy” because it was his favorite childhood show.

He doesn’t have fully solid days constantly anymore, and it's the reason you have him in the nursing home. Somedays, he was just like you when you returned from the wilderness. He wouldn’t eat or do anything but watch TV. He would sit in his chair and watch TV; when it was off, he didn’t know where he was anymore. One day, he forgot where the bathroom was in the home he had lived in for 45 years, and he wet himself before you found him in the living room looking in the china cabinet, thinking it was the bathroom. But other days, he was as sharp as nails, playing chess and talking about things from the 70s like it was yesterday.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and early-set dementia, but you were calm. You were now an adult with savings and a career, and you had the means to care for him now. To repay him for him nursing you after you came back.

You remember the nights he would pet your hair back after you vomited from episodes of PTSD. How he would sit in your bedroom holding you in his lap with tears in his eyes, listening to you scream in his chest. He just sat there with you and let you sob; no words were needed. He just stood there and let you cling like a little girl again. He let you yell at him and berate him as if he were the wilderness himself because he knew you weren’t yelling at him. He knew when to push you forward and when you needed to be held.

He helped you through the 5 years of healing after you were found. You had a total of 3 surgeries to make your brain's blood vessels normal again. You had to wear a splint on your neck for 1 year. You had to have countless MRIs throughout your life. Countless painful nights as your neck stabbed at you and caused you to feel no comfort. Your dad was always there with you, sitting beside you at every doctor's appointment and every event. He would only sit outside the waiting room for your therapy sessions.

Your father looks at you with (e/c) eyes and a soft smile, “I’m so happy to see you, peanut. How is your job?”

“Well, I'm still stuck around the last few chapters of my trilogy, Trying to fight my publisher for more time," you say as you let his shaking hand down and go to his other to lotion them. They were callous and dry. Your father's hard work was shown in his battered hands, which shivered. “You took a shower already?”

“Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you.” He rasps with a chuckle, his wrinkled face still holding his cheeky smile. He had the same soul as he always had, and moments like these make you think of happy memories of being in the woods with him and your mom.

“Oh, thank you, dad! I was going to say it didn’t smell like a caveman in here.” You chuckle back with him as you finish rubbing the lotion on his other hand.

“Oh, hush, you!” He slowly pokes your side and cheek, holding a smile.

“No.” You giggle back at him as you stand up, your hands moving to comb his hair. “Have the nurses been kind to you?”

“Sweethearts. Kirsta, the night shift nurse, is very kind. She comes in here when I sleep and never has a bad attitude.” He said as he leisurely scratches his nose, “Don’t hate the food.”

“Well, that's good, Dad.” You say as you look down at him. He looked clean and comfortable in his recliner. “I should get going. I need to get a few words down before I go to bed.”

“Alright, Peanut.” He says and takes you in. He grabs your hand gingerly and says, “I love you. Be safe. Text me when you get home.”

You chuckle and nod your head. You find it adorable that your father still wants you to tell him whenever you leave him. Even when you lived with him at your grown age, he wanted to know you were safe. “Of course, Dad! Don’t worry.”

“You better, " he says as he points at you with a shaking finger. He was so cute to you at that moment. You just laugh and nod your head to him. “I will!” you state back with a big smile.

You leave his room and start walking down the hallway of the nursing home. Walking down the halls, you can hear the other residents talking and watching TV.

You hear a ping on your phone and see Shauna texting you again. You sigh as you click on the notification.

Shauna Okay so I did something bad. You Like what? Did you rear-end someone again? Shauna No Shauna Dinner You Omg you went to the dinner? What happened? Shauna Jeff is cheating Shauna Jeff is cheating on me, and he isn’t trying to fix some fucking data system. I am just so done. Shauna So I went to dinner. Shauna And I stayed for dessert. You Omg you didn’t Shauna Yep, and I am going to see him again tonight. You Shit Shauna! You I mean, get your lick back but don’t go too far.

As you approached the front of the nursing home, which had a large circle desk for the nurses, you turned on the curve and accidentally tripped over another woman.

You look at the woman with a smile, which drops for a second because you know her. It was Misty. You didn’t realize she worked here, where your father is, but you quickly perk your lips up again.

“Oh my god, Misty!”

“(Y/n)! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well. My dad has been here for a while, and I am here to visit! I didn’t know we were going to meet again so soon.”

“I was picking up my Tupperware, which I left yesterday.” She shows you her red-top Tupperware in her oversized purse. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to have Chocolate Martinis at Antonio’s; they are outstanding.”

You didn’t want to. You have been seeing the team too much again, and you had sex with Shauna last night. You become increasingly like how you used to be when you get around these women.

“Sure! You wanna pick me up from my house?” You blurt without a second to stop yourself. You wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t stop it.

“Great!” Misty beams with a big smile as you both leave the nursing home. “I’ll tell you about the Travis situation, " she adds as she walks beside you.

‘96

You and Shauna sat beside the riverbank for a long time, talking about everything and nothing. It didn’t feel like you were doing anything as you and she gossiped about the others in the wilderness. It was relaxing and pleasing. You kept looking down to your now two fishing lines for any signs of fish. The sounds of gunfire going off in the distance, in an odd way, were comforting because you knew where everyone else was while being far away.

While waiting for the fish, you started talking about school and dances- anything to keep your mind busy.

“So, after my mom curled my hair and did my makeup, she left me to get my dress on. You remember the one purple one with the ruffles.”

“Sophmore year homecoming, right?” Shauna asks as she points to you, trying to remember.

“Yeah, that one. I don’t know if I have ever told you, but the zipper popped open when I put on the dress.” You said with a smile hurting your cheeks as you laughed loudly from your gut at your story. It used to make you cry thinking about that time, but now it is funny. Shauna bubbled in laughter beside you as you continued, “She was yelling at me, crying and sobbing, that I was going to that dance whether I liked it or not. She just started sewing me into the dress.”

“No fucking way your mom sewed you into a dress!” Shauna laughed with you as she grabbed your arm. Her eyes water with tears as she laughs with you.

“No, she did! It was the last time I ever got anything from Macy’s.” You giggle as you glance back to the fishing line one more time.

Shauna began to chuckle softly, her eyes crinkling slightly as she listened to your story. It made her miss everyday life before the crash. "God, homecoming. I wish we were back there instead of this," Shauna motioned to the wilderness around us with a sigh.

"Yeah, same. I would much rather be crying about being fat over this any day." You sign as you lean on Shauna’s shoulder. You try to keep the good vibes that were made, so you smile and nudge her, "But, hey, we have each other, and people are looking for us. They have to be."

Shauna smiled softly as you moved closer to her. She smiled at you, but inside, she wasn't sure if she believed you'd be found. But she didn't want to worry you. "Yeah, of course. Maybe we're already on the news," she added, attempting to sound optimistic.

"Oh yeah, I don't know how people haven't heard about us,” You said quickly after she finished because you believed you were headline news. “ All our families must be doing everything to find us, and they would have known as soon as the plane didn't land." You added a lump in your throat growing as you said families. You thought about your family's reaction and everyone’s family’s reaction to them being missing. You couldn't imagine the fear and worry they must be experiencing, not knowing where you all were. But you tried hard to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, needing to remain strong.

"I'm sure they're out there looking for us. They'll find us," she said, mostly trying to persuade herself and you.

"They will, and all we have to do is wait until they do." You nudge her again and smile, saying, “Besides, we have good company.”

As you move your head back, you see the lure dramatically dunking into the water. You quickly grab your pole and start to reel in the fish. As ywou start to move, you can feel how heavy the fish is on the other end.

“Whoa, oh my god, did you catch a fish?” Shauna asks in excitement as she sits up on her knees beside you and looks at the water.

“Trying to!” You say back as you keep reeling in the fish.

Suddenly, after struggling with the reel a little bit, you pull up two fish on one hook. You squeal in happiness as you quickly grab the two fish with pride. Shauna squeals with you as you hold the two big fish.

You and Shauna hug each other happily as you hold the pole up, “Holy shit! Holy shit Shauna!”

“They are fucking huge!” Shauna gushed as she grabbed one of the fish and immediately cringed at the feeling of the fish’s slimy-scaled skin. “Gross”

“I know, right? Come on, let's get this back to the cabin before we get some more,” you say with a big smile. You feel relieved. You all will eat tonight and be full tonight. Your dad would be very proud of you.

You walk back to the cabin in triumph as you laugh and talk with Shauna all the way up the trail. Before too long, you arrive at the cabin, and everyone starts to finish off firing the gun.

Van's face brightens like a light bulb as she sees you two walk to the cabin with dinner: “Whoa! Look at you!”

Everyone’s attention turns to you, and they cheer for you both on for the find.

“You got a fish!” Jackie squealed as she sat up from her seat on the cabin steps. Mari came over and grabbed the fish with a big smile, holding the fish from the mouth with her finger. “No, they caught two fish!” Mari said back, she looked into its lifeless eye.

“I didn’t do anything.” Shauna chuckled as you shook your head, wanting to share the praise with her.

You roll your eyes and look back to Mari. You notice behind Mari that Natalie is looking at you with a serious face that you can’t place in your mind. You couldn’t tell if Natalie was angry, happy, or disgusted by the fish.

“Yeah, the pole still works, thank god.” You chuckle as you put the pole on the wood seat you all have made around the fireplace. You add, “I think it’s a good sign we got two fish. Maybe it’s the woods telling us we’ll be okay until we’re found.”

You look up to the group, and your eyes meet Lottie’s as if you were saying, “See, told you so” with your eyes. She warily smiles at you and looks down as you silently converse with just the context from earlier.

“You are you trying to sound like Miss Cleo? Wanna read my future?” Jackie jokes and snickers at your comments, dismissing them as stupid. You chuckle and shake your head, “No, Jackie, I’m being hopeful! I can overread a thing or two.” You say as you push her shoulder; she looks at you and chuckles.

You and Mari let the fish rest on the cabin table before you descaled them for dinner tonight. There was more than enough for everyone to eat, and it made you feel so proud to be able to provide dinner for everyone. And because you were going to wait anyway, you both put a bowl on top of the fish to keep it fresh until you return from everyone testing out shooting on cans.

You didn’t care much for the gun or the loud noise of it going off, it unsettled you deeply. It made you feel uncomfortable and cringe at the ringing in your ears.

Lottie and Van placed the old cans on a log infront of the group, quickly retreating into the brush of the woods. With your arms crossed, you lean against a tree, waiting for everyone to finish practicing there.

“Team, this is how this will go down—one final round for all the marbles. You got five targets, five shots each. Mari, can you start us off?’

“Um, just a thought. Shouldn’t we be saving bullets, you know?” Laura Lee added with concern in her voice.

“Uh, yeah, in theory, but lucky for us, the nutjob who lived here before was apparently hoarding for the apocalypse.” Couch Ben reassured as best he could. You could tell he didn’t want to be here, but he was putting up as much of a front as he could.

Mari fires a shot at the cans. You quickly cover your ears as you cringe at the boom. She missed the can, and you recoil before she goes again.

“The cans,” Travis mocks as he looks at her with narrowed, judgemental eyes. You couldn’t stand him in any way lately. His mere voice made you wish it was a gunshot. “You’re-You’re aiming for the cans.”

“Shut up,” Mari snapped at him as she cocks the gun, still holding it to the cans.

“Do you like being this way?” Natalie says to Travis, her eyes slowly rolling to him in annoyance. Waiting for the gunshot, you haven’t moved your hands from your ears.

“If you shit the bed again, you gonna ask for another do-over?”

Natalie shakes her head at him quietly as you glare at him. You just want him to shut up with his edgy and macho persona so everyone can get on with this stupid practice. You added, “You don’t ask for a do-over, you just clean your fucking bed, we are shooting cans, idiot.”

Your hands aren’t as firmly over your ears as Mari fires again. You flinch again as you cover them. Your eyes locked in a broad expression as you looked at the cans; the startling way the sound ripped through you, made you freeze like a deer in the woods, hoping the bullet wasn’t for them.

And she fires again quickly, this time hitting a can. You smile and nod at her, keeping your hands over your ears. You now see the eyes on you as you react to the sounds. You feel a blush over your body as embarrassment comes over you, but you can’t bring yourself to pull your hands down. “Hey. All right.” Couch Ben says calmly but clearly happy she finally hit a can. “Good job, Mari.” Everyone slowly claps for her. She smiles, and as she walks back to Akilah, she thrusts the Gun into Travis’s hands.

Travis immediately starts preparing to shoot at the cans, and he hits four cans until he misses his first.

“So close, flex.” Natalie teased him from behind. You looked at her with a snicker at her comment.

Suddenly, Travis turns around with the gun ready in his hand, and he aims it at Natalie’s face. “Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Whoa!” You gasp as you step closer to Natalie out of instinct to protect your friend, your eyes as wide as saucers.

“Travis! Put the gun down.” Couch Ben shouts demands at him, His eyes wide with panic because he can’t stand and take it away from him.

You don’t even think as you yell, “Put the fucking gun down, Travis! What the fuck are you doing?”

He then turns around and shoots at the cans after an intense silence. You cringe again at the sound of his gun.

“All right, that’s, uh-yeah, that’s good shooting, Martinez. Don’t ever do that again.” Couch Ben says awkwardly as everyone quietly watches on with tension in their shoulders. You felt yourself seething with anger bubbling in your stomach.

“Don’t choke. Again.” He says to Natalie with an antagonistic glare.

He then backs away and stands near you. You look at him with disgust as you spit at his feet, “Stand away from me, asshole.” You hiss at him.

He looks at you in surprise that you are still so angry at him that you just keep your mean mug on him, and he steps away. He was surprised at your sudden outburst, as did everyone behind you because you were known for being overly friendly, but you ensured he knew not to be near you.

You look at Natalie and nod, “You got this, girl.” you say. You cover your ears quickly before she does anything else.

Natalie looks at Travis with the same intensity as you and takes a smooth, deep breath. She then puts the gun to her shoulder and hits each can without hesitation. One by One, they drop to the forest floor. She then smiles slowly as she finishes. Everyone cheers and applauds her for showing Travis up.

You snicker as you look at her. Natalie moves her head towards you first. Meeting your eyes with happy eyes and a big smile, she looks at you quickly over and looks away to the other. You blush quickly, trying not to overthink about her looking for your approval first and your praise, and you don’t think much about her looking you over. She sure wasn’t checking you out.

After the gun practice, everyone searched for berries and mushrooms in the woods. Travis left to the cabin with his tail tucked between his legs after you kept telling him to go away. He left after you said that you don’t trust him and no one should because he acts like a brat. He looked hurt and looked around at the other girls with eyes that screamed he regretted what he did with the gun, but no one had his back. He just stepped back, and you shook your head as you turned to the others.

“Are any of these, like, Maple syrup trees?” Laura Lee asks as she looks up at the tall sycamore tree.

“What?” Tai questions as she walks behind her, towards the clearing a few feet away.

“I don’t know,” Laura Lee mumbled as she walked away. She softly touched your shoulder as she walked by, needing you to stabilize her from the trail's incline.

You found some chestnuts on the ground. They were fresh and not ready yet, and you put them in your pocket as you heard Akilah smack Misty’s hand.

“Don’t eat that kind,” Akilah panicked as she pushed the mushroom in Misty’s hand on the forest floor. “It’s poisonous.”

Misty looks at her with big eyes and a little shaky hands.

Van says, sarcastically, “Like “Kill you” poisonous, or like, “trip your balls off” poisonous?”

“What? I don’t know. My Girl Scout leader didn’t get all that specific about it.”

” (y/n)?” Taissa asks as she kneels to the ground with Mari.

You look over to Taissa, looking at tiny button-like mushrooms that grow from decaying animals.

“Don’t eat that one either. That's a dead mushroom. It is too new to eat if we could eat it. It would be like eating rotting meat. Don’t even touch.” You say as you look for more nuts on the forest ground. “Try to look for nuts. They are on the ground. If it has a hole, just drop it for the animals.”

“Well, could you just show us something edible so we can get going?” Misty asks kindly, impatiently—this is the first time you have heard her sound like that.

Taissa looks behind her to Misty, rising to stand over her, “What’s the big furry?”

“Coach needs a sponge bath?” Van teases Misty with a smirk, and you feel one grow on your lips at the joke, too. Everyone pauses to look at Misty, animals looking down at the runt. As a snicker comes to their lips, Taissa fully laughs, covering her mouth.

“That’s-That’s so mean.” Taissa laughs as she looks to the ground. Everyone softly holds their laughs as Misty storms off. Van laughs as Misty rushes past and giggles out, “I’m sorry. Whatever.”

Van puts her arm around Taissa’s shoulders, and you look at them. Jealousy courses through you. Why couldn’t you have someone like they do?

“Get off me!” Taissa patted Van’s arm away. In response, Van smears a smash berry she hid on her finger on Taissa’s face. “Did you put a berry on me?”

“I did.” Van said, taking her arm off her, and moved herself towards you.

“Okay, so, everyone, we just need to focus. We know we can’t touch those and those ones.” Taissa spoke to the group, trying to lead them back on track,

“No mushrooms, No mushrooms.” Van says as she starts to look up the trees for the chestnuts.

“Uh, Guys…” Jackie called out from a few yards away. You all moved quickly to her voice out of concern that she had encountered a wild animal in the woods.

“Jackie? “What is it?” you called back as you rushed to her.

“Guys, come here!” Jackie laughed.

“Look! Holy Shit!” Jackie exclaimed. You come over some trees and bushes to see Jackie slapping the door of a small personal plane that has vines and moss growing on it. The woods themselves are almost swallowing it, as it has had overgrowth for at least a decade, only covering and trapping it in place.

“W-what is this doing here?” Van asks in disbelief.

“It must have been the dead guy’s.” Jackie says as she looks at the wheels being stuck in the mud.

Laura Lee quickly finds the door and opens it, “I wonder if It still works?” Laura Lee questioned to no one in particular.

Van gently spins the propeller, “Holy fuck!”

Laura Lee is inside the plane, messing around loudly. You don’t want to get near that thing. You never want to be near a plane again. You stand away as you watch them touch the plane in excitement, everyone else coming closer to the plane.

Suddenly, as your anxieties manifested themselves to life, the plane started from Van’s spinning the propeller and Laura Lee messing around inside. The engine started with a startling rattle as it crept forward.

“Holy shit.” Van says as she steps back in shock. Jackie is wholly frozen until she suddenly pushes Van out of the way of the plane.

“Back away! What the fuck?” Jackie says as she is frozen in place.

“Stop the fucking plane!” You scream out to the plane. You feel yourself planted to the ground. You didn’t even react when Van fell to the ground. Everyone yells to stop the plane, and Laura Lee panics inside the plane, crying out, “I’m trying! I’m trying!”

The plane stopped just in time to avoid harming Jackie. She looked at the plane with buggy, big eyes and took a deep breath of relief.

Everyone pauses after the intense change of events. You stand frozen in silence as you look down at the wheels and wings. You had an intrusive thought creep into your mind, but you quieted quickly before speaking it out.

Lottie looks on, almost disassociated, as she says, “It didn’t want him to leave.”

You turn your head to her and look at her deeply concernedly. She says what you had thought. Maybe the wilderness didn’t want the mummy to leave. That's why he did what he did in the attic and why the air was so suffocating.

‘21

You giggle at Misty’s goofy joke about old men as you try not to spit out the chocolate martini in your mouth. Earlier today, Misty called you to ask how you were doing after the road trip because she thought the air between you and Natalie was off. She just wanted to check up. It ended up with you sitting across from her at an Italian restaurant.

“Yeah, so I just turned off the oxygen tank.” She says to add on to the joke, which kind of makes you laugh harder because you can see her doing that.

“Stop, you didn’t!” You giggle again as you try to hide your face with a napkin; your face is red hot.

“I didn’t-” Misty laughs with you as she sips on her chocolate martini. She says, “I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” You say it with some sternness from Misty’s character. You make her feel more supported if you sometimes reaffirm what she wants to be seen as. You see her in that way. No one likes to be told who they are.

You notice her laugh, look slightly behind you briefly, and note it.

“Well, So, How is your work? Any new boos” Misty asks as she takes another sip of her martini. You feel yourself smile at the question and know she asks for more profound reasons.

“No, no, nothing special about work. And just little flings here and there. Keep the bed warm,” you say as you look at Misty’s eyes intently. You feel a little tense when you ask, “And you? How is it going with Kevin?” You ask with a soft joke about the last time you saw each other.

Misty became slightly flustered momentarily and shook her head, “I was trying to get Natalie out of her comfort zone.” Looking behind you again, she says, “But more or less the same. No one special enough to say they dated Misty Quigley.”

You chuckle and smile at Misty’s last comment, but you look behind you as soon as she finishes talking out of curiosity. You see behind a window of the inside of the restaurant. Dressed up nice, Misty is holding her head on her fist, listening to the man across from her, Natalie. Misty is following Natalie.

“Misty-”

“I can explain!” Misty says as she blabbers on, “I was trying to keep an eye on her and make sure she is okay after seeing Travis because she might do something crazy or relapse.”

You quietly listen to Misty explain herself with a soft smile as you scoff softly, pulling out your phone, “And here I thought you wanted to spend time with little old me.”

Misty squeals, “I did want to see you. I wanted to get a drink.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckle softly and say, “Sometimes you trade friends out for a night out. It’s alright, girl.”

Suddenly, Misty straightens her back and smiles softly. She lifts her drink to her lips as Natalie rushes to your table. You lean back on your chair with wide eyes, holding your chocolate martini.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Natalie hissed to Misty, standing in a black dress. She was clearly on a fate tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a mumbling jealousy in your stomach as you looked at her.

“Okay, so, don’t look now, but,” Misty lowers her voice to a whisper and says, “that reporter, Jessica Roberts, is sitting at the bar right now. She’s watching you.”

“And what are you doing?” Natalie tilted her head to the side as she looked at Misty with suspicious eyes, her tone clear of annoyance.

“I’m having your back.” Misty stated.

“Y-you’re having my…” Natalie is in disbelief. “How did you even know I was even here?”

“I’m a citizen detective, " Misty said, looking at Natalie with big, innocent eyes.

“I hate to break it to you, but we’re not Rizzoli and Isles. I don’t need you.”

“Yeah, but, Natalie-”

“Go the fuck home.” Natalie spat.

“Alright, you need to stop talking to Misty like that-” You finally cut yourself into the conversation.

“Who are you speaking to?” Natalie snapped her head to you and said, “I expect this from Misty, but you? I don’t understand why you are here.”

“I’m here, having a drink with Misty. I saw her at her job, and we decided to get drinks.”

“Oh please, you came here to spy on me! How fucking pathetic. Don’t you have to write a book about rubbing off a genie?” She hissed at you and looked daggers into you. She went too far in your eyes now, and you lean on your elbow on the table as you look back into her eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you so strong and high mighty?” You hiss lowly to Natalie. Ever since the night in the woods with Natalie, you have had difficulty holding back your teeth when you feel cornered, even a little. “Misty is here protecting you and having your back like always. Because Jessica,” You point to the bar, Jessica looking to the bartender to order another drink, “Is here waiting for you to relapse to spill the beans about it. Stop biting at people trying to be there for you; you might not be so alone. Now go drink, and go on your date with goth freak Kevin Tang.” You cut coldly as you look into Natalie’s blue eyes. You grab your drink, lean back in your chair, take a sip.

“Make sure you don’t go too far. You might need to get another one of your coins, right? What does that make it 9 times you have gotten a sobriety coin?” you stab at her and mention her many times in AA. You didn’t care how hurtful or unnecessary your anger was to her. You must say it to her, and she needed to hear it. She needed to back off Misty.

It was intense, and it was real.

You didn’t need to bite so hard. But she didn’t need to bite first.

You two hold a glare as Natalie steps back and scowls at you. She doesn’t say a word. You know why.

It’s because you are right.

You feel Misty touching your hand and saying, “Are you alright? That was pretty harsh.” Once, Natalie returned to her table with a perfect smile mask.

“I’m alright. But I think we should go now.” You say softly as you touch Misty’s hand back,

Misty holds your hand with a squeeze quickly. She wants to hold you. You have protected her yet again from the wolves in the group.

You both held the heavy silence as you softly panted a bit. You felt it in the car; it was surrounding and whole. You were happy and open, as always.

In the car, you look over to Misty, noticing the flustered face she holds. She was always awkward, but you always found her adoring. As you both drive down to your home, the trees that pass hypnotize you into a calm place. You feel your body, and with each breath you take, cold air enters your nose, and an image of last night's dream comes to your mind. Running past trees, you felt as if you were back there somehow. Maybe it was because of the anniversary, the reporter, or Travis’s death; you couldn’t pinpoint it, but you felt a forgotten hunger you hadn’t felt in a long time. You let it take over like it did them because of the exciting thrill of it all again. It felt youthful and intense.

“Misty.”

“Yes?”

“Do you miss me?” You ask her as you softly touch a lint off her shoulder.

“W-what do you mean? I have been with you for the past two hours.” She says as she drives down your street.

“No. No, Misty.” You chuckle, and the hunger comes over you. You want to feel warm; you have been far too cold lately. “Have you missed me and the warmth we shared?”

You don’t understand yourself. You sound like you did all those years ago in the woods. How sexual you became without trying. It felt like the air around us darkened into lustful wants and licks. How natural you were with your body.

Misty was caught off guard by how quickly your words changed the car's atmosphere. The memories of the wilderness and how you looked her over suddenly brought back feelings that she thought were long gone. Misty’s throat tightened, and her heart quickened as she glanced over at you, taking in the expression on your face as you asked her the question. She slowly parked the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel tight “Y-yeah, I did…”

Your hand snakes onto Misty’s inner thigh, and your thumb rubs the fabric of her jeans. Your eyes stare down at your hand.

“Would you like to feel my heat again?” you whisper, feeling your hot breath hitting off her cheek. You don’t understand the tingling and desperatiness your cunt feels at this moment. You shouldn’t have touched her, spoken to her, or even considered thinking about her. You knew better than to let yourself cave into your primal instincts, instincts you have because of the wilderness with them. All the hurt in the woods manifested into want as it always did.

Misty’s breath hitches at the feeling of your hand on her thigh, and her heartbeat quickens in her chest as her skin tingles under your touch. It's almost as if no time has passed at all. Your words and desperate tone send a shiver down her spine as she glances over at you, her eyes darkening with lust and need. “Yes… please.” She whispered back, her voice filled with want. Your hand moves up her thigh and softly rubs the fabric at the crotch of her jeans. You could feel her heat underneath.

You lunged at Misty, cupping her cheeks with your hands. You pulled her into your face and kissed her. Your lips met and mashed together as your hands moved closer to her, pushing her back against the driver’s side door. Thank God you live on a dirt road.

Misty lets a small gasp into the kiss as your hand moves up her thigh. Her body already feels as if it's on fire. She responds to the kiss passionately, her desire for you growing with each passing second. She reaches up and grips your hair, pulling you closer as she deepens the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with desperate need.

(y/n) hands quickly work to unbutton Misty's jeans. You move your kisses off Misty's lips to her jaw and neck. Misty lets out a small moan as your lips move down her jaw. She leans her head back and closes her eyes, surrendering herself to the feel of your lips on her skin. The feel of your tongue moving down her neck, sending small licks and nips here and there, makes her shiver in pleasure. You softly growl in lust as you start to pull the jeans and underwear down her pale legs, your thumb touching the bare skin. She spreads her legs farther apart, allowing you to pull her jeans and underwear down, her breathing getting more labored with each passing second.

You quickly push your two fingers inside of Misty’s weeping cunt, and she dramatically moves her leg to the center console for you to have more of her. You move her head from her neck and just look at her as you push inside of her, a gasp rattling the car escapes from her.

You look into her brown eyes for a moment as you see when pleasure takes over her being as you feel her walls tighten around your fingers. You feel her pink, wet hole flex and twitch to your fingers; it feels like she hasn’t had sex in a long time as you start to pump your fingers into her.

Her hand locks into your hair, or more so your head, as she rubs her other hand on your shoulder. She softly pushes you down to her cunt as she rolls her head back in a deep moan. You feel the vibration on the pads of your pointer and middle fingers. You feel the hotness of her cunt as you lean down, her musk clouding your judgment and making you think of only one thing.

You lean down, pushing your body to the floor of the passenger’s seat, licking her cunt. You taste her flavor and wetness leaking from her clit. You circle your tongue around the bulb with reckless abandon. You feel her gushing onto your fingers, and her loud moans only encourage you to go harder.

“(y-y/n)! Honey- right there, yeah!” Misty’s needy, desperate moans fill the car up with hot air. Her legs shake as she rolls her eyes. She panted like an animal as you tongue into her, sucking up all her wetness as you could. You felt throbbing in your wrist as you curled your fingers up to touch her soft spot. You could have been here for days and not cared.

Misty grabs her breast as she arches her back to your mouth. She moaned louder and louder to tell you she was going to cum, but you didn’t care. You kept licking and sucking her juices.

“Sweet Jesus!” Misty whispers to the air as she feels you fuck her harder with your mouth. She finally lets out a high-pitched, needy groan as her feet curl, legs twitching. Her eyes closed as her head hit the glass of her door, and she leaned back to relish in the feeling. You bury yourself in her folds, looking up from her lap, and watch as she shivers, as your tongue doesn’t stop.

You move your mouth up to her clit again and your fingers into her hole, pounding her with an elemental need to feel your fingers caress her cervix. You don’t move again. You don’t care how uncomfortable it felt as your legs were pinched into the floor, or how the cupholder stabbed into your rib, or that your neck was throbbing so that you could hear your heartbeat. You wanted her, and you wanted to feel her ultimately come undone to your fingers again.

‘96

The clattering of some forks and spoons scrap across the plates, people talking over everyone else, and the heat of the fire warm the cabin’s first floor. Everyone was in a better mood after shooting practice and settling for the night. Travis sits alone in the corner of the room, rejected by everyone tonight as punishment. You felt yourself thinking about him being sad and alone in the corner. “Good.”

Jackie and Shauna sit beside you at the table, your attention entirely on them and their discussion about how Pamala Anderson’s sex tape scandal.

“I mean, she shouldn’t have been a slut and done it, is all I have to say.” Jackie shrugged and took a bite of the white fish, and her face cringed when she pulled out a small bone.

“No!” You say with a chuckle and shake of your head, “Someone shouldn’t have robbed their safe and sold the sex tape.”

“She shouldn’t have even done it. Like, who just does a porno if they are not a slut?”

“She was with her husband. Who else are you supposed to have a sex tape with?” Shauna asked as she shook her head at Jackie.

“No one! No one should ever do a porn! It's so degrading.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how someone would want to make one, but she wasn’t with a whole lot of guys. She’s married to Tommy Lee. And it was supposed to be his thing for tour.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t think a Mötley Crüe member would have a sex tape? I wouldn’t be surprised if they taped the many other women they have fucked,” You say as you delightfully eat the fish. It was fresh and delicious after days of only eating berries and leftover snacks you could find from the crash. You are having meat, and it feels like a real treat as you haven’t tasted anything as delicious in weeks.

Before you could continue, Van touched your shoulder as you looked at Jackie. You turned to her as she said, “Hey, do you have a sweater I can burrow? I don’t think anyone else has anything I can wear.”

You smiled big at Vanessa, nodding your head, and stood up. “Yeah, I have a few.”

“Where are you going?” Jackie asks sassily as you get up. She tilts her eyes at you.

Shauna looks up at you and is slightly confused, but she also asks, “Are you coming back?”

“Yeah, just getting something for Van, hold up.” You say as you start to walk away.

“Thanks, (y/n). You're a lifesaver.” Van beams as her smile moves with you. You touch her shoulder as you walk past her, and you walk over to the other side of the cabin to the bags.

You were one of the lucky ones that found all your luggage. You had your carry-on, luggage, and purse still intact and untouched from the fire. You were so happy to have your journal and book you haven’t finished, but you felt bad for everyone still looking for their things. Van could only find her carry-on; some didn’t have anything they packed. You all carried every bag you could find, but some still had missing clothes. Because of that, Van has been coming to you to burrow clothes as the only other heavy girl much smaller than you, so you let her burrow your shirts and hoodies since the crash.

A small sandwich bag falls to the floor as you open the bag and grab the heavy yellowjackets sweatshirt. It was your stash of weed with the rolling papers and filters. You blush as you quickly grab the bag from the ground and put it into your jeans pocket. You look behind you to see if anyone has seen that, with embarrassment painted all over your face.

You walk back over to Van and hand her the hoodie. You smile widely as you sit down. You didn’t want everyone to know you had weed, but you think that tonight would be the best night to do anything. You smile as you whisper into Jackie’s ear, “I have weed.”

She stops eating instantly, and her eyes bug out. She looks over at you and laughs, “What?”

You hit her shoulder softly as she laughs again, “You have what?”

“What?” Shauna asks, besides Jackie, and when you two make eye contact, it makes you laugh.

You whisper in Jackie’s ear again. “I have weed. Would we like a joint?” Jackie laughs and hits you on the shoulder, her mouth wide open in shock and amusement. She nods her head and whispers to Shauna, and you turn your head to Van, “Hey, I have a joint-”

“What?” Van asks as she leans her ear towards your lips. Your lips accidentally graze her ear, and you say, “I have a joint. Tell the other seniors. Don’t be suspicious; don’t tell the underclassmen.”

Van smirk grew wide on her freckled face as she nods her head, she says. “Okay, I’ll let them know. When are we doing this?”

“When everyone is asleep, " you tell her, knowing that if anyone overhears you, they will not understand what you are discussing.

You light the joint with a twig, puffing the air out of the end of the filter. You hear muffled giggles from Jackie and Shauna beside you. " Stop laughing,” you snicker back and pull the joint from your lips. You pull Shauna and Jackie to the back of the cabin and show them the weed you packed on the plane. You all decide to roll one out.

“Didn’t know you would have the good stuff,” Jackie smirks with an amused laugh in her voice. She takes a puff and hands it to Shauna with a muffled cough.

Shauna laughs softly as she also smokes and coughs in response to inhaling the smoke. She covers her mouth with her elbow, and you laugh at her.

Van moves behind the cabin's hunter shed, and Taissa, Natalie, and Lottie follow her.

“Hey!" you say to them as you take a hit of the joint and blow the smoke quickly.

Natalie says to you, “Damn, (y/n). Didn’t know you were such a criminal. Hand that over to me.”

You giggle happily as you hand it over to Natalie. You look up at her from your spot on the log. She looks down at you with heavy eyes as she takes a hit. She slowly looks over your face again before handing it over to Van. You felt a blush come over you again as you felt her eyes scan over your features, and you didn’t know what to do. You felt insecure and flattered at the attention but still deeply hesitated to meet her eyes.

Natalie, who never passes up a joint, reaches out her hand to take it from you while Taissa eyes it. Lottie looks at the joint and then at you with a tiny bit of concern; the others knew she’d probably be the one most concerned about the joint.

“Where’d you get that from?” Nat asks as she inhales the joint.

You felt yourself joke, “Where do you think I got weed from?’

“I don’t know. A drug dealer.” Van jokes to you with a scrunch of her freckled nose.

“Sort of. My mom is the one who has the weed. She has a weed card since she got diagnosed with cancer.” You said without realizing the words from your throat. You hadn’t thought about your mom almost all day, “She grows some behind our house in the woods, Natalie,” You point at her jokingly, “Don’t get any ideas. You have to buy that shit.”

Everyone laughs loudly at your joke. Lottie takes the joint and smiles, holding the smoke in her mouth. You look at your feet, and suddenly, your mother comes to mind. You think about your mom, and a lump grows in your throat. Did she take her night medicine? Is she watching Frasier? Is she worrying about you?

From the side of the shed, there is a crunch of leaves and twigs, and a petite figure comes from behind the shed. Natalie turns herself and turns back to face you. She gives you a face of “fuck it's her again.”

Misty comes from the shed, pushing a curl behind her ear as she looks at the group. You smile at her as Jackie rolls her eyes, smoking the joint beside you.

“Hey Misty! What are you doing here?”

“H-hi. I was going to the bathroom. What are you guys doing?” she asks nervously as she approaches the group.

“Drugs.” Lottie says as she looks at Misty with a humorous tone.

You laugh as you take the joint from Jackie and wave your hand to Misty to enter the circle, “Come closer, it’s okay; it’s legal here.” You joke, and it makes everyone laugh with bloodshot eyes. Misty chuckles and looks around at everyone in approval. Sometimes, it was painful to see her so desperate for some kind of friendship that it made you feel bad, so in your intoxicated state, you pulled your hand out for her, “You can try it if you want to, Misty. Sit.”

Misty’s eyes looked wide as everyone turned their head towards you as you invited her into the smoke circle, but no one stopped you. They seemed also to want to see what Misty does.

“I-I can? Is it safe?” she asks as she approaches the log beside you.

Jackie snickered and looked at Misty with narrow eyes, “No, that’s why we are all smoking on it.” She condescended.

You shake your head and take Misty’s hand. “Ignore her. Just don’t take a huge hit. You gotta get used to it, then you’ll want more,” You told Misty gently. You puff the joint before it goes out in the wind. Your body is starting to relax and calm in the woods, and your neck doesn’t hurt as much as it did earlier.

You hand Misty the joint, and everyone watching the scene plays out with amused eyes. You gently hold your hand over hers to guide her. “Have you ever smoked a cigarette?”

“No, they’re bad for you.”

You chuckle and nod, “Yes, but they are just like weed. You take small inhales, not like you're trying to breathe it in, but sip on a drink with a straw, okay? Baby puff.” You say, pulling the joint back to your lips and showing her.

Your lips wrap around the filter softly as you take a quarter breath in. You then dramatically hold it out and show that you take the rest of the breath through your mouth. You hold the smoke in for a moment and then let it out for her to understand. “You get it now?” you cough.

“I-I think.” she says as she takes the joint from you, holding it between shaky fingers. She takes a puff and then starts coughing furiously. Natalie took the joint from Misty’s shaking hand before it fell to the ground, she takes a puff inbetween her laughs.

Misty holds her fist to her lips as she tries to get all the smoke out of her lungs. Everyone laughs happily and claps for her when she does it, enjoying seeing Misty try something for the first time. You put your hand on her back to pat it gently. She seems to relax at your touch momentarily before finally getting her coughing under control.

“You finally tried marijuana for the first time!” You exclaim and rub a circle on Misty’s back, her cheeks crimson.

“It was amazing,” Misty breathlessly says as she looks at everyone else. Everyone is very high now, and their eyes are bloodshot and dry. You smack your lips, longing for a drink.

“Misty, have you ever drank?” Lottie asks as she sits with her knees to her chest. She tilts her head to the sides and watches Misty’s facial expressions. You didn’t understand the feeling you felt from her eyes. It felt almost like she was studying and calculating Misty. You have never seen that look on someone.

Misty studders and says, “Y-Yeah, I have. I stole some sherry from my mother’s cabinet.”

Van laughs a little “whoa” out as a joke about how mild Misty’s confession was, the smoke of the joint coming out of her mouth like the hot breath of a hunger wolf, and she says, “I’ve done crazier.”

Taissa looks at Van with a playful glare and says, “Like what?”

“I stole a whole bottle fo whiskey from my mom. And she didn’t even find out. She didn’t even realize she didn’t drink it, so she just got more for herself.” Van confesses with a smug smirk on her face, and Natalie chuckles and nods her head like she’s done that before to her mom. You felt a little wrong about what Van said because it made you feel like her mom had a nasty drinking problem.

“I did that before with my mom’s cigarettes.” Natalie says, “They never notice if you just take a few here and there.”

Jackie smirked and said, “I know every one of my mom's pills in the bathroom cabinet. I took a few for the trip. She’s never caught me before.”

“My dad is very strict with those things. I don’t think I can do anything without my parents knowing,” Lottie said, looking to the ground with a severe expression. You couldn’t put your finger on it, it her confession felt like it had a little more then she was letting on. Lately she has been off and talking more vague about things, and confessing more things about her life. Lottie’s parents were strict but the more you hear about them it sounds like they hover over Lottie’s every move.

“My mom just grows the shit, and I just take it.” You blurt out with your words softly slurring because you are high, and you realize you talked about your mom again. Was she okay?

Everyone laughs at how you talk and starts to laugh at their words sounding like yours—slurred and funny to hear.

You felt a sudden wave come over you as you laughed with your friends. It felt good—maybe too good—so good that it made you think about your mother. Was she okay? Did she get her pills on time? Did she bathe? Did she go to chemo?

In your laughter, your laughs turn to sobs in a second. You cover your mouth as heavy sobs leave your throat. You couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t stop yourself.

Everyone slowly realized that your sounds weren’t in glee anymore; they were out of sorrow and a moment of weakness.

When you look, you see brown eyes, concerns, and worry on all the faces. You let out one thing that you knew was going to hurt them. Your body didn’t stop itself from letting out deep-seated sorrow.

“I’m sorry. I really miss my parents and momm- mom so much.” You whimpered as you wiped your tears. You had a full belly and a fire keeping you warm. But inside, you have never been so cold and helpless in these woods.

Everyone’s faces soften and twist in their sadness. We all know what we are feeling, and they also start tearing up. Everyone missed their parents, and you felt like an asshole even saying anything.

You sniffle and try to stop your tears. Being strong has worn you down, but you have a “strong shoulder.” Like your father always said, you can handle the hurt.

You say to everyone, “I think we all need some love right now. Group hug. Please.” Standing up, throwing the dying joint into the fire, moving your plush arms around to urge them to you.

One by one, they stood, hovered over you, and hugged you and each other—a moment of shared pain and joy. Being strong was hard, but as you felt them hold you, you felt a second wind. You have to get yourself and the others out of here. Out of these fucking woods.

Note 2: Sorry to anyone who wanted to be on the taglist and I couldn’t add you! I hope you still find this fic!

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist ❀

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic

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obsessedhoneycomb · 3 months ago

Text

Mind The Gap - How they got to know each other II

Toto Wolff x fem!reader

-> masterlist

A/N: another little blurbs for my Wolff girlies. Any feedback or ideas are welcome! :)

---

You were standing leaning against the bar, clutching onto the glass of champagne. George was somewhere talking with sponsors, the crowd full of joy around him. At first you didn't want to be here, but you understood your role as his girlfriend and that you need to represent your relationship in public. Even though he wasn't ashamed of talking with her again. Your eyes wandered around the hall, locking with Toto. The old man knew how to make you breathless in a second, but he probably didn’t know about how he’s affecting you. And he never will. Forbidden.

He closed the distance between you, standing beside you casually. “Enjoying the night?”

You took a sip of your drink, nodding softly. “Yeah, I guess.”

Toto looked around to find George. “He just left you here, didn’t he?”

With a sigh you looked at Toto. “He’s just busy with his duties. He didn’t mean to.”

He was tired of your constant apologizing for his behaviour. But he kept it back in his mind. “Sure. He’s a busy boy.”

“I heard you have a date here with you.” you just bit into your cheek. Was that jealousy speaking?

Toto chuckled, looking into the empty glass of where the whiskey was earlier. “Horner snatched her from me. Talking a hole into her brain about Spice girls.”

That made you genuinely laugh. “I can’t believe that someone wants to talk to him.”

“Me too.” He laughed softly, looking down at you. “Don’t you want to get some fresh air?”

You nodded, following him out of the ball room. Standing at the balcony, you looked up at the night sky. Toto watched you from beside you. Taking in your side profile, how you smiled softly when you saw something nice, the way your breath stuck in your throat every time you stole a glimpse of him. Oh no, Torger, you can’t think about her like that.

---

After that day on the yacht, where you met with him after a year of no contact, he took you on a date. Because you needed to be careful to not be seen together, he picked you up, driving one of his luxurious Mercedeses with tinted windows, and he took you to some kind of cliff with a view into the countryside.

Handing you the coffee, you smiled and took a sip of it. He remembered how you liked it. “Delicious, Toto.”

Loving the way his name rolled out of your tongue, he shifted proudly in his seat in the car. “I’m glad I’m still capable of remembering some things.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, because old men like you have it difficult.”

“Hey, watch your mouth, young lady.” he smiled amused, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Jokes aside, I love this place. You really surprised me.” your eyes lingered outside for a moment and then they were back on Toto, who was already watching you. The tension between you was palpable. After those months of longing he was finally beside you and you were finally free to touch him, to kiss him.

Putting the coffee cups aside, he leaned closer to you, cupping your face into his hands, his gaze boring into your eyes.

“Tell me if something is too much.” he just whispered against your lips, his hot breath making your mind spinning and he just sealed the kiss with claiming your mouth.

Your hands shot to his neck, to pull him even closer to you, your mouth crashing together, Toto savouring the taste of you, groaning into the connection. Nobody ever kissed you like he did.

With need of catching a breath you parted from him and he gave you a confused look, a little worried. “Was it bad? Did I do something wrong?”

You frowned a little, with a soft smile. “Absolutely not. You did everything right. The best actually. I just- I can’t breathe. You’re so fucking intense, Toto.”

That made his lips curl into a small smirk. “Oh, I see. The old man got you all weak, huh?”

You smashed his arm playfully with laugh. “You have no idea how weak you make me, Torger.”

He groaned and pinched your cheek a little. “Don’t call me that, darling.”

---

Weather at RedBull ring wasn’t ideal and with George having his mood swings, you felt like a pain in the ass. You should stay at home, maybe visit your family, friends. But he insisted on you coming to cheer him up.

Race was fully on, you were standing in the garage, watching it on the displays around when you noticed Toto’s focused expression and you couldn’t help but stare for a while. Nobody questioned your looks, because he was the boss, everybody was looking at him.

“Focused as hell, isn’t he?” the voice of a young woman came out beside you, and you just turned your head to the direction. You haven't seen her in the garage before, but she seemed familiar.

“Yeah. He’s the boss afterall.” you shrugged trying to cover your interest.

“Mhm… He seems to be more interesting for you than your boyfriend on the track.” she smiled amused, her eyes looking into the dark corners of your soul.

“I- uh-”

She laughed softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Calm down. I don’t judge. My dad has a thing for younger women.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah. I’m Rosa. Toto’s daughter.” she smiled softly, outstretching her hand for you to shake it. You accepted, stunned. Holy shit, his full grown daughter was just talking to you.

“For the record, I wasn’t staring at him.”

“I know how women act when they like him. You can’t fool me. And it’s okay. My dad is sweet and caring. He’s different when there aren’t cameras around. Also don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody about your little crush.” she winked at you with a smug smile.

Toto met with Rosa after the race, talking and laughing at some things she was telling him about.

“I noticed you have a huge fan in your garage.” she chuckled, taking a swig from the water bottle.

Toto looked at her a little confused, his brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” Funny, that you were the first person who crossed his mind.

“That woman. Young. Mid-twenties I guess. One who’s dating George. I spoke to her today, she was staring at you, ogling you like a tasty cake.”

“Rosa. Don’t talk like this.”

“Dad, please. You should step up and assert your dominance. George is clearly obsessed with his ex, so you can do something. You’re Toto Wolff for god's sake.”

Toto stopped in his tracks, looking at his daughter in disbelief. “Look, even though I like her, I can't interfere with things that aren’t my business. I’m not in the best position to make a mess of my personal life and I can’t go against my team.”

Rosa just shrugged her shoulders. “Hm… Okay. I just said my opinion. Do as you think it’s the best. But you deserve to be happy. Truly happy.”

Toto just sighed, your sparkling eyes in his mind along with your cute smile. He was falling for you and people around him weren't making it any easier.

———

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @mimisweetz

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4barbatos · 14 days ago

Text

✦ heavens help the fujoshi

sypnosis: you are a devout girl — faithful, disciplined, and beloved by your church. you rise before dawn to pray, teach hymns to children, and clutch your rosary each night before bed.

but behind your devotional texts, you secretly read yaoi. and now, you’ve started shipping your childhood best friend with the bard who recently arrived in town.

there’s only one problem: you don’t know who the bard really is.

a/n: guys i know i said i’d work on your reqs first BUT. i was listening to confessions of a rotten girl and suddenly my brain was hit with the most unhinged fic idea 😭 this might actually be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. i was giggling. i was kicking my feet. i had to pause every few lines to wheeze into my hands.

btw this is dahlia x fem!reader (one sided tho xD) but also like… venti x dahlia if you tilt your head. honestly idek anymore 😭

you are a devout follower of barbatos.

every sunday morning, you wake before sunrise to kneel at your window, hands clasped in prayer as you whisper blessings to the wind. you wear your best dress — modest, pressed, with a tiny hand-stitched anemo vision near the collar. you polish your rosary until it glints in the morning light. you water the altar flowers. you sing in the choir. you stay after mass to help clean the pews and organize hymn books by alphabetical order. your collection of devotional texts is so extensive the church librarian once asked if she could borrow from you.

you are, in the eyes of your community, a perfect girl.

you do not curse. you do not gossip. you do not raise your voice. you attend confession twice a week, even when you don’t need to. the sisters say you are blessed. the elderly women pinch your cheeks and call you heaven-sent.

you do not think impure thoughts.

except you do.

you think about boys. you think about boys together. kissing. holding hands. brushing fingers in the candlelight. unbuttoning stiff uniforms. gasping into each other’s necks. you tell yourself it’s just fiction. just a passing obsession. a sinful phase.

you burn with shame every time. you cry about it for three hours and write apology letters in your prayer journal, pages stained with real tears and guilt.

“i’m sorry, barbatos. i didn’t mean to imagine that. i didn’t mean to enjoy it.”

and then you do it again the next night.

you met dahlia when you were six years old, the two of you seated side by side in the third pew from the front, legs swinging off the edge, too short to reach the kneelers. you shared crayons during sunday school. he stole the grape-flavored communion wafers just to make you laugh. when you cried after forgetting your memory verse, he recited it with you in a whisper, line by line, until you could say it on your own.

you’ve been pew seatmates ever since.

dahlia became a deacon two years ago. he wears the vestments like armor — precise, pressed, a perfect fit. he reads the scripture with a voice sharp enough to cut, each word laced with conviction. to everyone else, he’s curt. unflinching. impossible to impress.

but he softens when he speaks to you.

he always has. you think it’s just because you’ve known each other so long. that he’s just more patient with you, because you’re friends. because you grew up together. because he’s kind, in his own way.

you don’t like him like that.

he is stern. he is sarcastic. he scolds you when you skip breakfast before mass and sighs whenever you apologize for things you didn’t do. he pinches the bridge of his nose when you confess stupid things like:

“i imagined a blasphemous scenario again”

“i saw a fanart of two male knights kissing and i couldn’t stop thinking about it for three hours.”

he listens anyway. every other sunday. he waits for you in the confessional, silent and steady, as you cry your heart out and stumble over shameful, half-choked prayers. he absolves you with a quiet nod and tells you not to cry so much next time.

he is in love with you.

he always has been.

and you — so holy, so blind, so busy writing apology letters to barbatos for fictional sin — will never, ever know.

venti arrives one summer afternoon, carried in by wind and rumor.

no one knows exactly where he came from. some say he wandered in from the countryside. others whisper that he followed the scent of wine and wildflowers. all you know is that he showed up during the sunday procession with a lyre strapped to his back and a smile too bright for someone who’d just walked five miles through the heat.

you think he’s just a bard. a traveler. maybe a scholar passing through. a friend of dahlia’s, perhaps — though dahlia never mentioned him before, and dahlia never smiles at anyone like that.

you are wrong. so wrong.

venti stays in the village inn, but you see him every day.

he plays outside the chapel after morning prayers, sitting beneath the old sycamore tree with his legs crossed and his instrument in his lap. the first time you hear him sing, it feels like your lungs forget how to breathe. his voice is soft and weightless, like windblown petals. you can hear the holy in it. the kind of beauty that should be illegal. the kind of voice that makes saints weep and sinners confess.

you start staying after mass. at first, just a few minutes. then longer. sometimes you pretend to organize hymn books just to linger near the window where his music carries through the open shutters. sometimes you peek from behind the statue of barbatos, clutching your rosary like a shield, just to look at him.

venti talks to everyone. the altar boys, the flower girls, the old aunties who sell rosaries outside the gate. and somehow, he talks to you, too.

he calls you by name.

he tugs at your sleeve and offers you fruit from the market with a grin that makes you feel like you’re the one sinning just by being looked at.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t know how to act. you are not good with people like him — bold, unashamed, unholy in their beauty.

and then, one day, you see him laugh at something dahlia says.

and your brain — poor, sinful, overactive brain — betrays you.

what if they kissed.

what if venti leaned in just a little closer? what if dahlia grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in? what if they bickered in the vestry and made up in the candlelight? what if they fought like angels and kissed like sinners?

what if —

you choke.

you literally choke on the communion wafer you were holding.

and that night, you cry so hard your nose bleeds. you throw away your entire sketchpad. you kneel by your bedside for two hours whispering:

“i’m sorry, barbatos, i didn’t mean to think that, please don’t smite me, i love you, i swear—”

you do not know that the very archon you are apologizing to is the same man who winked at you from behind the altar that morning.

the sacristy is quiet that afternoon.

sun leaking through the stained-glass windows, filling the room with soft, holy light. you’re humming an old hymn under your breath, dahlia beside you in silence as he unwraps new votives. his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. his hair’s a little messy. he smells like incense and old books.

you do not notice these things. not the way he keeps glancing at you. not the way his fingers brush yours when you pass him the lighter. not the way he looks at you like you’re made of everything he’s ever prayed for.

you’re too busy thinking about something else.

you say it like it’s nothing. a passing thought. just something that’s been on your mind lately, something you’ve written in your journal at least six times.

“you and venti look cute together.”

he drops the candle.

it clatters against the tile and rolls under a pew like it’s trying to escape the conversation entirely.

there is a long, painful silence.

“…what?”

dahlia says, voice flat. it echoes like thunder in the tiny room.

you don’t notice the horror in his face. or the way his hands suddenly go very still. you just keep going. calm. innocent. completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve just committed theological war crimes in front of the man who loves you.

“you have a nice dynamic,” you explain, as if you’re reviewing a fictional couple. “he’s playful, you’re sarcastic. it balances. it’s kind of cute, actually.”

a long, painful silence follows. the kind that feels like it should be filled with thunder. or at least divine punishment.

he stares at you.

he stares at you like you have just walked into the holy sanctuary with blood on your hands and a yaoi doujinshi in your pocket.

he doesn’t respond. he just slowly crouches to retrieve the runaway candle, jaw tight. you don’t notice the way his fingers shake. you go back to humming, completely unaware that you have just shattered his entire sense of spiritual and emotional stability.

that night, dahlia lies facedown in bed and screams into his pillow for forty-five minutes straight.

he kicks the mattress. he punches the air. he very nearly commits a second sin by almost tearing a page out of his favorite hymnbook.

“WHY IS THE GIRL I LOVE SHIPPING ME WITH OUR ARCHON,”

he whispers into the darkness, voice hoarse, soul crumbling.

“WITH OUR ARCHON—”

across the village, venti sneezes in his sleep and rolls over with a smile on his face.

venti finds out almost instantly.

not because you tell him — oh, no. you would never tell him. you can barely look him in the eye without panicking, let alone confess that you’ve been imagining him in blasphemous situations with your childhood best friend.

but he knows.

he knows because you keep praying about it.

because you whisper about it in the pews after choir practice, voice trembling, heart hammering, hands clutched so tightly around your rosary it creaks under the pressure.

because you write about it in your prayer journal with trembling ink-stained hands. entries like:

“dear lord barbatos, please forgive me for imagining brother dahlia pushing the bard against the chapel doors. i promise i am not corrupted. i simply have an active imagination.”

and venti — who is, unfortunately, the very god you’ve devoted your entire life to — the same god you whisper to in the quiet of dawn, the one you sing to in soft trembling alto every sunday, the one you imagine your brother dahlia kissing against the pulpit —

he reads every word.

it is, without a doubt, the most entertainment barbatos has had in the last hundred years.

so he feeds into it.

of course he does. he’s bored, and you’re adorable, and your devotion is a little bit insane in a way that delights him. how could he not?

he starts calling dahlia “dear.”

starts lingering too close during homilies. starts brushing hair out of dahlia’s face under the guise of fixing his collar. starts singing old hymns with lyrics suspiciously altered to sound romantic, staring directly at dahlia the whole time.

one day, he sighs dramatically and says,

“ah… if only i could be blessed with someone like you.”

while looking straight at him. right in the eyes.

you go home and sob.

you clutch your rosary like a lifeline. you cry into your prayer pillow. you tear out three journal pages and burn them in secret because they were too far gone. you fast the next day out of guilt and only drink holy water for dinner.

you do not know that venti is barbatos.

you do not know that the man you keep confessing to — your friend, the bard, the one you watch from behind the pews with wide eyes and sinful thoughts — is your actual god.

you do not know that dahlia has known this entire time. that he’s been silently suffering in the shadows of stained glass, listening to you gush about your “favorite dynamic” while internally screaming because your delusions now involve him and the anemo archon.

you are simply a girl.

a good girl.

a girl who wakes before dawn to pray.

who volunteers at sunday school and helps scrub candle wax off the floor.

who teaches children to sing hymns and then goes home to read yaoi behind her stack of devotional texts.

you are so, so devout.

you are so, so rotten.

and your god thinks it’s hilarious.

reader be like 😭😭😭 preach

#dahlia x reader #???????#dahlia brainrot #venti brainrot #dahlia x venti #venti x dahlia #venlia #genshin dahlia #genshin venti #genshin crack #genshin imagines #genshin fics #reader is so real #i love these two sm

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transboyswitchytales · 1 month ago

Text

'Get Lost in My Eyes'

Agatha All Along Week 2025 @agathaallalongweek

Part 1, 2

Day 6 Prompt : Soulmates

Agatha Harkness x Reader Witch

“I used to think I was afraid of being lost, but then I realized I was afraid of who might find me.” ― Nenia Campbell, Raise the Blood

Soulmate Au / Love at First Sight Au / Fluff and Angst / Yearning-Core / Lovesick Agatha / Running from your past / Nicky mourning/ AAAWeek25/ MDNI 18+

My Masterlist

Mistakes are mine....because my raccoon brain wrote this super late and I am tired.

Agatha couldn’t believe it.

She’d been looking for you for the past eleven months, two weeks, three days, four hours, and seventeen minutes.

Agatha tried to find you in the forest, and she even got your stupid caravan fixed. And you were gone to the wind.

Even Senior Scratchy told her that he’d wanted to go with you, but that you had told him to look after Agatha.

Agatha Harkness was absolutely pissed. She was livid, furious to the bone.

You had the fucking gall to break down all of Agatha Harkness, century old witch murders, every emotinal wall. You made Aggie believe in light and love again. You made her hum in the mornings, she used to hate mornings. She used to hate everything.

And then she’d seen you in a clearing doing magic, and her world was never the same.

Now Agatha was left with all the love and yearning and no you.

She just wanted you back, the second you two fought, she wanted to apologize. But you were gone.

And Agatha was lost. She’d been lost for about ten minutes, that is, because she knew exactly what she wanted, no scratch that, needed to do.

She needed you. She needed you like trees needed dirt. Agatha couldn’t sleep anymore. She lay in the bed you used to share in the caravan, and she inhaled your scent. And Agatha had never hated herself more.

She needed to find her soulmate.

To get you back, and Hecate’s tit, she’d do whatever necessary to get you back.

So here she was…in the middle of fucking nowhere again. Chasing your ghost, she’d been all over Canada for two seasons, she’d been through the woods. She’d followed the mentions of you like a hound on a scent.

Agatha begged, borrowed, and stole to get information on you.

Agatha talked to more mortals this year than she’d ever done before.

Agatha would take out a photo of you and hold it up to some sorry mortals uninterested eyes. And the witch held her breath and waited, hoping this would be the lead she needed. Sometimes she thought about how she’d tell you how silly this was, because she’d never told you about Agnes O’Connor. But now she really wished those detective skills would work in her favor.

Agatha found that she talked to you outloud a lot.

Which was insane, because the only person with her was..a rabbit. Your shared familiar, and he stopped listening to her cry and drone on a long time ago.

But Agatha talked to you..at first she knew it was nuts because you weren’t here. But after a while she found it was the only thing that made her feel like she was real. That you hadn’t been some trick of walking The Road.

So she said your name as she drove, or bought gas, or walked up to ask strangers if they’d seen you come through.

Agatha knew it was insane, really, she did.

But she talked to you and sometimes..she talked to Nicky.

She asked him if he was taking care of you.

She begged her son to watch over you and keep you safe…like Agatha should have done. Like she wanted to do, and would do for the rest of her life.

Agatha had …the first week stopped at a payphone and called Billy. She had demanded he get her in touch with Lilia.

Lilia had been surprised to hear from her, but she’d said she’d pulled a card. And knew of her soulmate problem.

Aggie had rolled her eyes and asked if Lilia could mail her a few books on…the topic of soulmates.

Lilia could be heard smiling through the phone. But she complied like a with with a coven.

And Agatha had read every book front to back. And she’d need to apologize to you a lot, but that was something …Soulmates were something she’d never let herself believe. And now her tail was tucked between her legs. Because the witch should have known better.

Agatha knew she’d loved you from the first moment she saw you and your purple. And now Aggie was afraid she’d spend the rest of her miserable long existence sleeping in the woods. Feeding your shared familiar lettuce and asking strangers if they’d seen you.

Which Agatha Harkness mentally prepared herself for this, she’d do it. She’d traveled to the ends of the earth with this shitty turd on wheels to find you. Agatha had pick pocketed a trucker the other night, taking this wallet with the measly fifty bucks. But also his flip phone, and she’d called Billy and asked her shamble of a coven to try and do a locator spell.

“You mean you haven’t?” Jen asked Agatha, who scoffed.

“Of course I have, but she doesn’t want to be found.”

“So what makes you think she’ll let us find her?” Jen gave the sass right back and Agatha hurt Alice slaps her arm.

“Because she’s not looking to block you, she’s blocking me!” Agatha snapped but there was no bite to her words. The coven only heard the truth, a witch gone to madness with a broken heart.

“We’ll work on it, honey.” Lilia cut the younger coven members off, knowing the sound anywhere.

So they did, they worked every Thursday. They’d all drive over to Jennifer’s store, she’d turn the open sign to close. They’d go into her backroom and have circle.

Agatha would wait by the stolen flip phone…

Billy would call and tell her once again..nothing.

“I thought I taught you how to do a simple location spell, Billy.” Agatha seethed and she was thousands of miles away and didn’t need to see the teen to know he was hurt by her words.

But Alice was the one who spoke this Thursday.

“She doesn’t want to be found, Agatha. It’s not your coven's fault you hurt this witch. And obviously your soulmate would be powerful, because you are powerful. So it would be like someone trying to find you!” Alice said, and Agatha didn’t have anything to reply to that. She just hung up.

It wasn’t fair, Agatha knew that. It was nice that they were doing this for her every week. Agatha knew she shouldn’t yell at them every week when they called to say nothing had turned up.

Because, of course, the perfect match to Agatha’s soul would be a powerful witch. Fuck if Agatha was honest how powerful you were was an utter turn on. If not so annoying in this circumstance.

So Harkness was in the middle of nowhere.

She pulled over at another truck stop, but this one had an abandoned diner to the side. She turned off the engine and looked at the passenger seat, the one you sat in. The one she talked to.

“I know, every time I see a diner I think of that day. I mean I think of how you ran away, and how stupid I was not to run after you. I know..I know I’m a moron. Because I think of that moment a million times a day..even without seeing a lame sticky diner. But I can’t help but wonder if I could go back…All the things I would have done differently. I would have asked you about your past, I promise you that. You grew up in Salem too, damn we probably drank at the same places. And…what they called you, those names..Well, you were so alone. And I want to know all of it. I was a coward. Nicky could have told you I was a coward..I promise if I- when I see you again I’ll tell you all about him. He would have loved you….I..I love you.” Agatha said and then turned to the empty seat.

Before she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. Taking the keys out, the one that had your keychains. One of them had an mini Ouija board, a coffin, a plastic encased Alaskan daisy, and a four leaf clover. It was an interesting choice of keychains. Agatha had always wondered how you’d gotten them.

She’d been an idiot. Agatha wanted to go back and slap herself.

She should have asked you all the questions.

The ones she asked your ghost now.

The ones that made her stomach hurt. Why did you always dance to Creedence Clearwater Revival? You put it on when it rained and danced to ‘Have You Ever Seen The Rain.’ But for some reason, you always skipped Bad Moon Rising? Why, why would you skip it? Did it have a memory, did someone you’d loved have a memory with it? Agatha drove herself mad thinking of these things.

She knew you of course, but in the light of day, it wasn’t enough. Agatha would close her eyes and see the freckle on your shoulder, she remembered that tattoo on your left hip. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what year you’d gotten it.

And now Agatha Harkness wondered why she’d pretended to play it so cool. Why had Agatha not been a crazed woman and prayed at the deity of you, why now did she have to be haunted to make an altar for you?

And that wasn’t her waxing poetry. Agatha didn’t change a thing in the caravan. Your toothbrush sat, unused, by the sink. She could’t throw away the Jones Green Apple soda in the mini fridge.

Why Green Apple, why not the blue lemonade? These were the thoughts that ran through Agatha's mind.

She’d needed to know her soulmate. Sure, she knew what tea’s you loved, the bands you listened to, the way you ordered your eggs. And for lovers or life-long partners, that was enough, right? But not as her soulmate, she wanted to know why? Had your mother made you scrambled eggs and now you despised them? Had your mother understood you? Did you stop at the side of the road and pick blackberries because you once thought of them as a delicacy? Had you lived off them in the woods while on the run?

Agatha craved these answers. And she’d pretended to be too cool to ask. Agatha had been so used to pretending that she didn’t need anyone. That she’d fooled herself.

But now you weren’t here.

And all Agatha wanted was you.

Opening the truck door, she shivered. It was getting a little cold in the mountains again. But she reached into her pocket for the loose last five dollars she had.

Opening the gast station door and walking in to find a man with an incredibly long mustache…like down to his knees long. She walked up and pulled your photo out of her right pocket.

It was very worn, and not the only one she’d owned. But Agatha used this one, because mentally she’d had to fight with herself to show a photo of you at all….it felt like she was giving a private show to a filthy voyeur. Agatha felt possessive over your smile, the way your nose scrunched when you smelled lilac, the gentle way you turned the shower off. All of you.

So Agatha had battled for this photo.

Its edges had multiple creases, and the sides were rounded from Agatha’s pockets rubbing against it. Like a sore in your mouth, you can’t stop touching.

Agatha plastered on a friendly mask and held up a photo.

“Have you seen her?”

“Who are you to her?” He shot back.

Agatha had heard this response before, and she found it hard to lie everytime, so she stuck to the closest truth she had, her truth, her intentions towards you.

“My wife.”

“What did you do?” He mused a little enjoyment seeping into his tone, and Aggie tried not to bare her teeth in irritation. But her eyes fell to his hand, and she saw a wedding ring. Yeah, she wished she were also wearing one. She’d have to rectify that shit the second she found her witch.

“I fucked up, so have you seen her?”

“Why not call her? When I get in trouble with my woman, I buy her baked beans. It always does the truck.”

Agatha held the photo like it was the only thing stopping her from using her purple on him.

“Her phone's not connected.”

It was a lie, you didn’t have a phone, Agatha didn’t use to have a phone. Neither of you had needed one before now. Because the only one she’d wanted to talk to was you. And now she’d had weekly updates with a coven to beg them to track you down.

If it were as easy as calling you, she’d have never stopped redialing. If she could find you online, Billy would have done it by now. Your name only had a million Reddit posts about how powerful you’d been.

Billy had asked Agatha if he’d wanted her to read it.

“No.”

“Really? It’s actually really interesting, Agatha, you sure?”

“No, I want her to tell me. I want her story..but I don’t want to hear it from anyone else.” Agatha whispered into the flip phone one evening.

“That’s actually really romantic.”

“Go to bed, Toto.” Aggie had hung up, and it was a half truth. Agatha wanted to know, of course, she did. But if you hadn’t cheated and read up on her…it felt like being unfaithful to do it to you. Agatha wanted to be someone worthy of the kind of love you gave. And she was sure she hadn’t been in the past, but people could change, right?

Agatha hoped you believed that. Because she’d never have trekked all over the world for anyone else.

No.

Agatha’s soulmate was worth this and much more to her.

“You ask her folks?”

“I have five dollars to my name.” Agatha pulled up the crumpled bill and slapped it down on the counter. “If you answer my question, it is yours. Now…please have you seen this woman or not?” Agatha had gotten really good at the word please. She’d never said it before. And now she found herself begging strangers often.

“Keep the five bucks, lady. Anyone willing to give their last cent must be love-sick to the bone. Yeah, I seen her. You missed her by an hour.”

Agatha’s body lit up like fireworks.

“What? Which way did she go? Fuck keep the five dollars, did she say anything?” Agatha was practically jumping across the counter. She’d kiss this big man in a minute if he said the right thing.

“She was up to the cabin, she must have rented it from Kenny. She looked a bit like you in the eyes. Kinda like she hadn’t slept in forever, she must be love sick too. She bought booze and firewood. No food, I asked if she wanted my old hot pocket. But she just gave me this smile, ya know like when someone’s real sad?” He droned on, and Agatha wasn’t sure if this was helpful or making it worse.

“Can you draw me a map to the cabin?”

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll give you a map and I got a key.”

Agatha was kinda worried that this man had a key, and that he would give it so freely to a stranger. But she wasn’t about to ask questions that could turn the tide for her. He handed an old yellow key to her, and then got out a new map and pulled a broken pencil out of the register drawer. He drew it and then scratched his purple nose once before nodding.

“Yup, past the broken tree. You’ll see a cutout of Bigfoot. Then some graffiti from 06’ that says ‘The Avenger Suck’ it’s green. You turn left twice and you’ll be there. Can’t miss it.” He said and she pushed the five dollars to him.

“Nah, lady, I read those Norah Roberts books. This was like that, I don’t need your money.”

She shook her head and left the money.

“I owe you a lot more than five bucks,” Agatha said, and he smiled a real grin at her. And she grabbed the map and ran out, but she heard him yell after her.

“GO GET YOUR WIFEY!”

She jumped into the car so fast that Agatha made a big mistake…not buying gas.

About an hour later and it was dark, very dark. And Agatha was extremely lost, but she had the small car light on. And she tried to figure out where she’d gone wrong.

That’s when fate pissed in her cherios and she remembered that gas was….important.

Because the stupid home on wheels gave up. And Agatha screamed in the cab.

Senior Scratchy made an inappropriate comment, and Agatha grabbed the map and stepped out of the broken-down vehicle.

Her boots fell on gravel and it was cold, very cold.

But not as cold as Agatha’s heart felt, she was lost, and you were here. She was so close, she was so mad.

Agatha closed her eyes and thought of that mustached fucker and wished he’d drawn a better map. And then she thought about how whoever Norah Roberts was, she would find out, and curse that bitch. Because love was … exhausting.

Agatha screamed into the night in frustration, then turned and kicked the fat tire. Her tantrum served to only make her foot hurt.

But she sat on the side of the road and huffed, a big white cloud coming out of her mouth from the cold.

Closing her eyes, she pictured you, like she did every time she closed her eyes now.

Agatha saw you that first day, doing magic.

Her eyes flashed open.

That fucking mustache man had said for Aggie to call you…She couldn’t, of course. But you’d been doing a spell that day…a soulmate summoning spell.

Oh god, she’d read about it in one of Lilia’s books. How had Agatha not thought of this?

The witch closed her eyes and thought back to the spell, remembering your hands. She tried to focus and her fingers went into the air, just like she’d seen you do a long time ago.

Agatha’s fingers glowed purple, and she tried, and she was sure she was close. Because Agatha swore she could smell your perfume. But she forgot how it ended, and she groaned and dropped her hands.

“I love you. I love you. I love you more and more every second. I fucked up so bad. I’m so sorry. Please ….Please, I want to come home.” Agatha let the tears flow, and she felt like a lovesick, stupid teenager. But she was.

That’s when Agatha jumped because a big jacket fell onto her shoulders.

Her eyes opened, and you were standing right there.

“You look lost.” You said into the dark night.

Her witch.

Agatha’s soulmate.

Agatha’s mouth fell open. She was convinced you were a hallucination. That was until Senior Scratchy started to squeak and squal in the caravan. You turned and smiled in the direction of the small familiar.

Your hair was longer, and you did look way more tired. Like this year had aged you. But Agatha also saw you were wearing one of her shirts and an old Agnes flannel she’d saved.

But you bent down to a crouching position in front of Agatha.

“I thought you didn’t believe in Soulmates, Harkness. That seemed like a soulmate summoning spell if I ever saw one.” You said, and Agatha blinked in the darkness, but she’d know your eyes anywhere.

Agatha kept opening and closing her mouth, but the tears flowed freely down her face.

You reached forward, and it looked like you’d wanted to wipe one away. But Agatha was disappointed as you stopped yourself. Looking down and then up at the sky, before back into her blue eyes.

“You know it gets pretty cold out here. Hitchhiking isn’t really a good idea. And I know my boy isn’t much for long walks. So why don’t you let me get you some tea, and you can tell me all about it.” You tell her, and Aggie doesn’t move, but you smile and walk over to the home you’d once shared. You open the door, grab the keys with your old keychains, and scoop up the rabbit. Who is so excited to see you. He starts telling you how Agatha keeps talking to outloud, and she’s gone insane. He tells you about the time Agatha almost left him behind in Nevada. And he tells you how she’s been looking everywhere for you.

But you just smile as he squeaks. You put your hand out, and Agatha is not so stunned as to not take it.

When your hands meet, the hair raises on both of your arms. Just like so long ago, and Agatha gasps. The magic surging through her, and it feels like home.

But you drop her hand and she wants the contact back immediately.

You half walk half drag yourself to a cabin, and Agatha can’t believe she didn’t see it, it was right there.

But she follows you into the small cabin. The smoke was coming out of it on this chilly night.

Agatha looks around the small space, she’s trying to see if there are any traces of another. If you’d moved on, if you’d picked up another witch. She wasn’t above killing again. And her eyes raked over the home, wondering if the horrid, mysterious lover was hiding in the shadows.

You knew Agatha too well, though.

“You can stop that. It’s just me. I found a cat, though, but he’s a stray. Besides that, it’s me.” You call out and put the bunny down. Before walking to the small fridge and pulling out some lettuce for the poor guy.

You put on a tea kettle and open a pantry with a stocked tea selection. You picked your favorite, which was also Agatha’s.

Because that was enough to know you were soulmates. Two witches liking the same tea, the same way, same amount of sugar.

You made the mugs, but waited for the kettle.

Agatha stared at your back, she’d been trying to form a sentence. Sorta like the first time you’d met. And words that came so easily to your ghost were impossible now.

You both were silent until the tea kettle whistled on the burner. You pulled it off and poured the tea. Finally turning around to a very conflicted Agatha. But you waited, not handing her the tea. You just looked at her until Agatha gathered something close enough to speech.

But you open up the floor when Agatha fails once more.

“So, Senior Scratchy told me a lot of stories. But I know they can’t be true, right?” You say and Agatha see’s the hurt there. And she ust have shrunk at your words because you are looking at her with so much intensity.

“You….You walked away and…” Agatha tried to form a smarter thought. What was it about being in your presence that had her quick wit turned so completely void of all mental structure? Agatha tried again: “You are my soulmate and-” You turn your chin to the side and you squint at her like you hadn’t just heard her say that. A wickedly curel smile passes over you and Aggie knows she’s fucked up.

“The great Agatha Harkness doesn’t believe in soulmates.” You correct the witch. And Aggie feels like this isn’t where she’d wanted to start this. She takes the jacket off her shoulders and puts it onto the kitchen table. She immediately recognized it as one she’d picked out for you so long ago. Before her eyes fall back on yours, a new urgency to her words.

“Yeah, well, I walked The Road, and that wasn’t real…but that.. doesn’t matter, I kissed you. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, I should have known all along that you were my soulmate.” Agatha tried, and she cursed how bad she was fumbling through this. Ok, maybe she’d pick up one of those Norah Roberts books. She had to get better at this.

You kick your foot on the floor and look down. You looked so warn down, and Aggie wanted to fix it, she ached to fix it.

“I always thought The Road was a myth.” You mumble like it’s the important part of what she’d said. Agatha tries to keep you talking, she would rather you keep talking.

“I walked it, I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Agatha means it, she wanted you to know everything. Every place she’d ever visited, every ailment she’d ever contracted, and every story she held; it all belonged to you now. Agatha wanted you to know it all, she wanted to never have to tell you a story again, because you’d know it all. Even the ones she’d been so scared to share. Agatha knew you’d keep every memory and every deep secret safe.

But you eyed her like she was full of shit and Agatha felt like the convesation had just backtracked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Because you talk so much about yourself.” You let out a sad chuckle, like the idea is so far-fetched.

Agatha felt an adrenaline rush, and she decided to word vomit, even if it wasn’t romantic or right. She needed you to hear it all.

“I was an feral… I was born in Salem like you..I had a horrible mother. I killed my coven…I didn’t mean to..They tied me up and…And I drained them and I killed my mother. And she hated me, and I fell in love with Death. But it was…not a happy love…not really. And I had a child…Nicholas Scratch. I called him Nicky and Rio; Death, she..she took him. I begged her not to.. He was sick, but he was so smart and good. He was funny and kind.. ..we used to sing about it all about The Road. And the Darkhold..and .. I went to this cursed…town and the Scarlet Witch and the hex and she trapped me…I was Agnes and...Then Rio…Only this time it was a place.. and her son.. My…Well, Billy, who I write those letters to..But we walked The Road and…and I died and then I got my body back and then…I met you….And all of that, all of the hurt and the pain…It all didn’t seem so big, because you looked at me. And….And….”

You waited for her to continue, unsure if Agatha had ever said this many words without taking a breath. But Agatha just kept staring at you. So you helped her out. Because you were going to need a lot more context on all of those words. But you knew what happened next, as you never forgot it;

“And you traveled the United States in a shitty caravan with your familiar and a witch. And then said witch told you about soulmates, and you didn’t believe her. And then you lost her.”

You say it so clinically that Agatha’s fists clench at her sides, you notice it, of course. You just eye her.

Agatha had never seen you be cold. But she figured you were her soulmate, and she did cold well, why couldn’t you? But Agatha had never gotten this side of you, and she didn’t want to have it ever again.

“I read up on soulmates in witches, and it’s actually a… thing.” Agatha wants to slap herself after she says it. And you blink twice before your jaw sets to the side.

“That’s it?” You say, and Agatha swears she’s the biggest word klutz. She puts her hands up to stop you. Hoping she won’t be kicked out of the cabin.

“I’m not finished.” Agatha tries, and you roll your eyes. Before, leaning back against the countertop like this was too much to stand for.

“You paused, so I figured you were done.” You snidely say, and Agatha has never seen you this mad. And she knows she deserves it, part of her is just so glad that you are mad. At least she’s in the same room with you again. At least she didn’t find you in this cabin with a lover.

“I’m not!” Agatha tried, but it just sounded defensive and lame as she said it.

“This is a really shitty apology Harkness.” You say, shaking your head, and Aggie wants a redo button. Whoever Norah Roberts was she never fucked up this bad.

“I’m not done yet.” Agatha put two hands out to stop you, but you barrelled through your thoughts all the same.

“You had a year to work it out, too. Kinda sad this is the best you got. Kinda doesn’t make up for fighting in the middle of a witch hunter territory after killing witches in a diner. Then me telling you the truth, and you standing there and letting me walk away. Doesn’t make up for the year of this shit. You think it was fun to fall in love, and then have you tell me how stupid I was? I should have known better; my own soulmate wouldn’t want me. Who the fuck would right?” You throw your hands up, and Agatha’s heart breaks, and she crosses the space so fast.

She kisses you hard, and you are shocked. But Agatha keeps kissing you with everything she has, and eventually, you sink into her embrace. Her hands find your hair and pull you impossibly closer to her body. Your hands fall to her hips, and her lips practically burn yours.

Agatha doesn’t let you leave for air, as she kisses you with such love and intensity that your toes practically curl. But eventually, you are puffing and pushing her hips, but she keeps her hold of your hair, like she’s refusing to give you space.

You pull back to yell at her. But she doesn’t let you. Agatha’s not going to let you think that shit for another moment.

“I want you, I want you so bad. I want you morning, noon, and night. I’m so dense, you can punish me for the rest of our lives. Just don’t go. Don’t leave again. Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I’d follow you anywhere. I’m not lost, not anymore. You are it, you are home. Fuck, I’m I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that wasn’t the first thing outta my mouth. You were right the whole time. I was a fool, a jackass, so bad. Please punish me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I can be good. I can, I can be good.”

The words slipped out that she begged her mother, and Agatha cursed herself. She hated it then, she hated it now. It sounded so pathetic.

But you studied her, and Agatha couldn’t read your face.

You cupped her jaw with such a delicate touch that Aggie was sure she’d shatter like glass under you.

“Whoever told you you weren’t good, Agatha Harkness?” You said, cradling her face, and Agatha whimpered.

“Please.” She begged, and you sighed and leaned your forehead against hers. Both your eyes still looking into each other. Agatha was sure she would dive into your iris’s, she’d swim laps around your iris if she could. She’d lose herself in your gaze, your eyes were the first she wanted to see in the morning and the last sight she wanted to see before she died.

You take a deep breath and you can’t believe Agatha.

“Don’t ever say that again, ok? I’m not going to punish you. And you are good, so good. I couldn’t have fallen in love with you to the depths that I am if you weren’t…so you. Agatha, you are so special.” You whisper, and Agatha doesn’t blink, unable to miss a millisecond of this.

“Don’t go,” Agatha begs, and one of her hands falls to your back and pulls you closer to her so your hips are pressed against each other.

“Was Senior Scratchy telling the truth?” You ask, and Agatha doesn’t find comfort in that. But she doesn’t need a clock to know, so she answers.

“I’ve been looking for you for the past eleven months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, and forty-three minutes,” Agatha says, and you smile sadly at her. You correct her, even though it is impressive; the witches count down.

“I meant that you talked to me.. While you were traveling, that you talked out loud to the passenger seat. That you missed me and talked to me?” You asked, and you were almost ready to cross your fingers.

“Yeah, the rabbit doesn’t lie.” Agatha licked her lips, not about to half truth to you ever again.

“I dreamed you did that. I was in the back and I could hear you. But I couldn’t talk back. You were in… Canada? And you told me about Nicky…and you named all the flowers he used to pick..and something about a bell? This sounds crazy…” Your eyes turned to the floor, but Agatha grabbed your chin.

“No, that’s real. I did that. I went on for like five hours straight about strains of flowers. And that bell, I still have it. He stole it…and I killed a coven and…You heard me?” Agatha said finally, really catching on. You smiled sadly and nodded.

“You, Agatha Harkness, are too beautiful to be ignored.” You tell her, and Agatha lets out a shaky breath. She’s not sure anyone else has ever given her a compliment that sunk into her skin like aloe on a burn.

“I wanted you to hear me..I wanted to talk to you so bad. I missed you. I kept buying banana bread at gas stations.” She adds the last part and then feels ridiculous for bringing it up.

“You hate bananas.” You state, and Aggie smiles, because of course, you remembered that. It was so small, yet Agatha felt victorious. After all this time, you remembered the ins and outs of Agatha, too.

“But the smell used to fill that stupid cab. And I took it for granted..I mean…I took all of it for granted. The sound of your voice when you get sleepy, the way you write your y’s with that little loop at the bottom, the silly hair ties around your wrist. The way you used to dance in a humid field with lightning bugs on blood moons. I am so sorry. All of you, all the things that make you my witch..I didn’t know how good I had it. But fuck, I do now. I swear I do. Let me make it up to you, please?” Aggie’s hand moved over your skin like she was memorizing you.

“I don’t know-” You start, and Agatha panic,s and she opens her mouth to plead, but you put a finger over her lips.

“It could take a really long time to make it up to me…I mean it could take centuries of make-up sex..” Agatha's whole being shifts, her aura color changes, and she smiles so big and tears fall that she doesn’t even feel embarrassed about.

Agatha kisses your finger and you drop your hand.

“Centuries of make-up sex, you say?” Aggie can’t keep her giddy feeling out of her face and voice. She’s practically ready to shout it out into the empty wood, she wants to yell it so loud that Billy could hear it states away.

“You’ll have to be big spoon every night.”

Aggie couldn’t believe it, nothing had ever sounded better. Her eyes couldn’t deceive her, these were your terms and Agatha was ready to sign in blood.

“Well, that goes without saying, I’ve done a lot wrong.” Aggie plays along even though she’s dying to tell you she loves you. Even though she’s sure you know.

“You’ll have to make me that dinner with the red potatoes and garlic I like. Oh, and you’ll have to make tea every morning when it’s too cold, and my feet are like ice and I don’t wanna touch the floor. You’ll bring me tea, you make the best tea.” You ramble, but Agatha's mouth is so close to yours as you negotiate, and her eyes are gone. So focused on you, as she nods and her breath lingers on your lips.

“Whatever my soulmate wants,” Agatha promises to you, and the Goddess that brought you to her. Whatever you wanted.

“This is gonna take a long time, are you prepared for that?” You move to wrap your arms around Agatha’s neck, and she lets her nose brush against yours. Her grin is so big you wonder if it hurts her face.

“I’m prepared to put in the work.” She whispers, and your knees feel like jelly.

“I guess that only leaves one last question.” You say, and your lips are so close, yet you don’t kiss her. The moment hanging in between you, one you’d remember for the rest of your days.

“Yes, Mrs. Harkness?” Agatha asks, and it’s the sweetest marriage proposal you’ve ever heard. You would use her name forevermore.

It’s so clear that this witch was willing to pull the moon down for you, Agatha’s eyes shining with so much love that you both would burst.

“Do you want to get lost with me?” You ask her, and Agatha’s resolve breaks, and she lunges the small distance forward and kisses you so hard you see stars behind your eyes.

#kathryn hahn #fanfic #my fanfiction #agatha all along #agatha x reader #aaaweek25 #prompt soulmate #soulmates #au #a03 #i love you #Spotify

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myheromarveldemia · 1 month ago

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When Touya Caught (16-Year-Old) Shoto Having "Big Fun"

Touya: You get your lying, conniving, half-and-half self in this house! Out of the goodness of my heart, I won’t tell Dad what happened, but trust and believe that dealing with me ain’t gonna be a picnic, either!

Shoto: Touya—

Touya: Shut up! Go sit your lying butt down somewhere.

[A nervous Shoto takes the nearest seat]

Touya: Boy, you’ve got a lot of nerve. Here we are thinking some villain put you six feet under, but you weren’t on a hero mission, were you? You were in Osaka, having big fun! Did you have big fun, Shoto? Tell me, didn’t you go for big fun?

Shoto: I—

Touya: Shut up! Don't you dare answer me when I'm asking you a question!

[Natsuo and Fuyumi are watching in secret]

Touya (not even looking in their direction): Go to bed, both of you.

[They leave; Shoto tries to leave as well, but Touya stops him]

Touya: Not you, buddy. You’re not going anywhere. (starts pacing with folded arms) I hope you go through what I went through this weekend. I hope that someday you get scared out of your fucking mind that someone you love is in danger—only to find out that they’ve been playing you for a fucking fool this whole time. I’m almost glad that I get to be this angry at you because that means I know you’re okay. But make no mistake, I’m enraged. I’m enraged, Shoto, and you know why? Because come to find out—you’re not even in town at all. No, you, despite not being of legal age to drive, got the brilliant idea to take MY CAR all the way to Osaka to see Walt Disney’s Frozen On Ice—having big fun! Isn’t that what you had, Shoto? Didn’t you have big fun? Well, let’s see, you got yourself a nice bowl of zaru soba, didn’t you? Had you some nice, tasty soba in a little noodle shop in Nagoya. (looks over at his boyfriend) Keigo, tell me, you ever had noodles in Nagoya?

Hawks (dryly): Not on the weekend.

Touya: There he is, the Number Two Hero’s golden child, enjoying himself a nice bowl of soba without a care in the world. But lo and behold, my fucking car gets stolen! That’s right, the car you stole got stolen AGAIN. Now, a normal person with half a gnat’s brain would simply take that massive L with grace and go home, maybe even report the stolen car to the authorities if you can spare a moment or two, but you? (laughs sarcastically) You and your boyfriend and girlfriend scrounge up enough loose change to take yourselves on a bus all the way to Osaka!

Hawks: Dude, what were you thinking?

Shoto: I wasn't thinking.

Hawks: Boy, that's right on the money.

Touya: And you and Inasa and Momo really thought no one would find out about all this? You really thought that, didn’t you? Well, did you?

Shoto: Touya—

Touya: Shut up! Well, guess what? We found out! We found out you were wild and free with Elsa and Anna and singing “Let It Go” at the top of your lungs! Or so you thought. Now, if you wouldn’t mind giving us a little recap, why is it that you didn’t get to see your precious Frozen On Ice and have big fun?

[Shoto remains silent]

Touya (through gritted teeth): Answer me when I'm talking to you.

Shoto (shuddering, tearing up): We got our phones stolen and we couldn’t access our tickets.

Hawks: FYI, it really didn’t help that y’all turned off the “Find Your Phone” feature on your phones.

Touya: You owe Keigo the biggest apology for having to fly your sorry asses out of trouble. He and I planned a nice, romantic weekend of smoking pot together for our anniversary, but our whole weekend’s shot because we had to save my baby brother from the consequences of his own actions!

Shoto: Touya, Hawks…I’m really sorry. Mom and Dad’s divorce has been hard on me, too, and Inasa and Momo were just trying to cheer me up, and you guys know Frozen is my favorite movie (seeing their glares)—but I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I—I would like a punishment before bed.

Touya: Do I look like Dad to you? Don’t answer that. Just—get out of my sight.

Shoto: I won’t be able to sleep with this kinda guilt on my conscience. I insist on a punishment on before bed.

Hawks (holding Touya back from attacking Shoto): Why don’t you go to bed before your punishment is not living to see another day?

Touya (calms down): You know what? I do have a punishment for you. You’ve lost our trust. After all the bullshit you put us through, it’s gonna be a long time until we can trust you again. If we can at all.

Shoto (crying): Touya, I said I was sorry. It really won’t happen again.

Touya: Just go. For all I know you’re lying to me right now.

[Shoto heads to his room, sobbing and passing Natsuo]

Natsuo: If you’re thinking of running away from home, please don’t take my car.

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not-magdi · 2 years ago

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The one bed trope

Summary: Having to share a bed with your best friend because what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

A/N

I didn't do any proofreading because it's way too late for my brain to function so apologies for any mistakes I made.

Between playing for the national team and having to be back in Barcelona, the players got a few days off to recover a bit. And since many barça players also played for Spain, they decided to rent a house and enjoy their little holiday together.

A few players had their partners with them, wanting to spend the little time they had together.

Normally, only girlfriends were allowed on these little get-togethers well, there is one exception.

The one and only Y/N Y/L/N, best friend and obvious secret crush of Pablo Gavi. The two of them met when Pablo threw a ball at Y/N's face and laughed at her as she started crying.

After his parents forced him to apologize to her, the two of them became friends. She started to attend his football games, and he helped her learn for her tests.

Y/N was the first he came to when a game didn't go like he wanted it to, the only one who could calm him down after his temper got the best of him.

Pablo protected Y/N with everything he had. A boy treated her badly? Ohh, believe me, Pablo had his head. She called him crying because school stressed her? That boy came running to her house at lightspeed.

Nothing and nobody could separate these two, they always tried to do as much as they could together. So her going on holiday with him was no surprise.

The Sevillian is currently driving to the airport to pick Y/N up, she is arriving a day later as she could get time off sooner.

Waiting at the arrival hall, a smile grew on his face as he saw Y/N's bright orange hoodie she stole from him and worn religiously for the past 12 years. The ends were starting to frizz and the color was not nearly what it used to be.

A slap on the back of his head rips him out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly he sees the orange hoodie standing before him.

"You back in the real world again?"

"Y-yeah sorry, I'm still a bit tired" Scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment he answers.

Accepting his answer Y/N engulfs Pablo in a tight hug, hiding her face into his neck. Happy to be back together with her Pablito again.

"I missed you Pablo-Bear" she mumbles into his neck, tightening her arms around him.

"Mhm, missed you too you big teddy"

Pablo hoped Y/N couldn't feel how his heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and how his cheeks were the same color as cherries.

After they were done hugging for about five minutes he grabbed her suitcase and basically dragged her to his car.

"Woah Pablo slow down, nobody is chasing us!"

"I know but I can't wait for you to see the house, it's so beautiful"

Laughing Y/N lets herself be dragged to the car, the touch of Pablo's hand against hers hot on her skin.

They arrived at the house after a short drive, Y/n being completely mesmerized by the beauty of the house, nearly running into a plant pot while staring at one of the big windows.

After greeting everybody, Y/N decided to unpack her things. Following Pablo up to her room she walks in behind him. Confused Y/N looks around the room, seeing clothes scattered around the room.

" Pablo ... am I sharing with someone?"

"Y-yeah um funny story actually ... you're kind of sharing with me"

"O-oh um ok, yeah sure no problem ... but are we sharing a bed too?"

"No! ... well yes! Umm o-only if you want w-we don't have to ... I can totally sleep on the couch if you want"

"N-no ... no problem at all, I mean it's not the first time we sleep in the same bed right?"

It would be the same right?

Well, nothing much changed since then, only the way Y/N's heart jumps every time his brown eyes look at her, or how her stomach feels all warm and fuzzy when she sees his beautiful smile, and the way his eyes shine while he does it.

But hey what could possibly go wrong?

Well after unpacking and meeting everybody at the pool they discussed what they wanted to do for the week. The whole time she could feel Pablo's eyes on her, tracing every move she made.

Now they were all sitting on the outside lounge letting a peaceful day come to an end.

After yawning for the tenth time Y/N decides to call it a day, waking the sound-asleep Pablo who is cuddled up to her she bids the whole group goodbye taking the sleepy boy with her.

Arriving at their room Pablo immediately flops down onto the mattress.

"Pablo come on you need to change you can't sleep in jeans"

"Hmpf nooo let me sleep in peace"

Climbing into the bed next to him she cuddles herself into the blanket. After she feels the bed dip behind her she turns around, only to be met with Pablo already looking at her.

"Goodnight Pablito"

"Night Y/N, sleep well"

Minutes turned into hours and Y/N was still tossing around, not able to fall asleep. Little did she know that on the other side, Pablo had the same problem as her.

Suddenly she feels two arms wrap around her, tightening around her waist.

"I know you're asleep right now and I hope you can't hear me right now but I just wanted to tell you that you have no idea how much you mean to me and that I hope that one day I have the courage to actually tell you how much I love you and not in a friend way. I know you probably don't feel the same but I just have to get that off my chest. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes anymore."

"Don't worry your secret's safe with me"

"Fuck you're awake ... Y/N I'm so sorry please forget what I said. I don't want to lose you over t-"

Shutting him up with a kiss on his plump lips she leans over wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say this"

"S-so you f-feel the same?"

"Yes, I really really like you too"

Kissing her again the two of them fall asleep together, Pablo having Y/N in his arms, the same since they were kids.

Or was it the same?

No, it was way better this time <3

#pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x you

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blackflash9 · 3 months ago

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The “Lin Was Always Right” Crowd Needs to Breathe Some Fresh Air

I need us to move past the idea that Lin Beifong is some eternally wounded saint, surrounded by selfish, unsympathetic antagonists. She’s not a martyr. She’s not the only one who’s been hurt. And no, Suyin and Tenzin are not villains simply because they challenged her worldview or didn’t live up to her (very rigid) expectations.

Let’s talk about Suyin, actually. Because the way she gets flattened into “the selfish sister who never faced consequences” is so intellectually lazy, it makes my brain itch. Suyin did mess up. She was reckless in her youth, hurt her family, and buried that damage under art and idealism. But she also changed. She built a life with meaning. She apologized. She reached out. She tried, repeatedly, to reconnect.

But none of that counts to sure fans, because it doesn’t fit the narrative of Lin as the always-right, always-wronged victim. To those people, Suyin’s every action is just more ammo. More proof that she’s manipulative. That she’s fake. That she owes Lin more and more. Apparently, forgiveness is a luxury Lin never has to offer, not to her sister or herself.

And don’t even get me started on Tenzin. The man was raised under the crushing weight of legacy, chose duty over love, and built an identity around never quite being enough. He made hard choices, some selfish, some necessary, but he wasn’t some cold-hearted robot. He cared deeply. He struggled openly. And in the end, he grew. But fandom sometimes throws him under the bus, too, all because he didn’t center Lin’s emotional comfort in every moment of his life.

"And the Winner Is..." (transcript)

Korra: [Folds her arms, smugly.] "So ... Pema stole you from Beifong. I'm surprised our "esteemed Chief of Police" didn't throw her in jail." Tenzin: [Korra looks at him with a pleased expression.] "Oh, she tried." [The camera slowly zooms toward Tenzin.] "Anyway, Pema didn't steal me, Lin and I had been growing apart for some time. We both had different goals in li-" [Comes to a realization. The camera quickly zooms out to show Korra again.] "Why am I even telling you this? It all happened a long time ago and we've moved passed it." Korra: "Hm, apparently Beifong hasn't."

Lin and Tenzin drifted apart. That’s not betrayal. That’s life. But the narrative gets rewritten: he "abandoned" her. He "chose" someone else. And that’s where the worst distortion comes in: Pema.

Let’s talk about Pema.

Because the way this fandom reduces her to the “homewrecker” trope is both tired and cruel. She’s not some scheming usurper. She didn’t steal anything. She confessed her feelings, like an adult.

The Spirit of Competition (transcript)

Korra: [Turns around and sees Pema on the path.] "Oh, hey Pema. Uh, how long were you standing there?" Pema: "Long enough. But trust me, I know what you're going through. Years ago I was in the exact the same situation, with Tenzin." Ikki: [Very surprised.] "Daddy was in love with someone else before you?" Pema: "That's right." Korra: "So what did you do?" Pema: "Well, for the longest time, I did nothing. I was so shy and scared of rejection, but watching my soul mate spend his life with the wrong woman became too painful. So I hung my chin out there and I confessed my love to Tenzin. And the rest is history."

↑ People love to quote this scene, Pema telling Korra how she confessed her love to Tenzin while he was still with Lin, as if it’s proof she’s a villain. As if she “stole” him. It was as if she deliberately wrecked a relationship and taught Korra to do the same.

But let’s pause.

Korra is a teenager at this moment. She’s brimming with first-crush energy, inexperienced, and deeply impressionable. She hears Pema’s story and interprets it like a young person would: romantic, bold, and affirming of a “speak now or regret it forever” mindset.

But Pema? She never tells Korra to act now or steal someone. She simply shares her experience of waiting in silence for a long time, fearing rejection, and eventually making a decision after witnessing what she perceived as emotional misalignment.

We aren’t told exactly how old Pema was at the time.

We don’t know if Tenzin and Lin were actively unraveling already.

We don’t even know if Pema’s confession ended the relationship, or if it was just one part of a much longer emotional transition.

But the fandom acts like she cornered Tenzin in an alley and seduced him from Lin’s arms. That’s projection. That’s fanfiction. Tenzin made his own decision.

But instead of acknowledging that relationships end for complicated reasons, people invent villains to justify Lin’s pain. Pema becomes a target. A scapegoat. Never mind that she’s been respectful, patient, and emotionally grounded. Never mind that she carried the emotional labor of raising four kids while Tenzin spun himself out trying to be his father’s ghost. In this fandom? That’s irrelevant.

It’s like people don’t want complexity. They want catharsis. They want a scapegoat for every fracture in Lin’s life, someone to blame so they never have to look at the part Lin herself played in the distance she feels from others.

Yes, Lin has trauma. Yes, she’s allowed to be guarded. But she’s also deeply judgmental, emotionally avoidant, and often more willing to simmer in resentment than engage in vulnerability. That’s not a flaw to erase, it’s what makes her real. It’s what makes her compelling.

But instead of leaning into that complexity, so many of you twist the narrative to make everyone else the villain in Lin’s personal tragedy. You flatten nuance in the name of catharsis, turning rich, flawed characters into scapegoats to preserve the idea that Lin was always right.

You’re not being deep when you woobify her. You’re just dodging mutual accountability.

Let these characters be messy. Let them make mistakes. Let them fail and forgive. Stop stripping away their emotional depth just to protect one character’s pain.

Let Suyin be complicated. Let Tenzin be burdened. Let Pema exist. And for the love of nuance, stop treating Lin’s trauma like a permission slip for moral infallibility.

(Credit to @beifong-brainrot for the insightful post.)

#avatar the last airbender #legend of korra #suyin beifong #anti lin beifong #anti lin stans #pro suyin beifong #pro tenzin #tenzin #“anti” for the right reasons here I don't hate anyone #But this needs to be addressed #we love and support suyin #enough with with slander for these characters #Just let them be people #pema #pema lok

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auroraharper · 2 months ago

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To all the boys I love - Carlos poly (Final Part)

Carlos wakes up with an ache in his stomach. At first, he thinks it’s from the emotional damage of the last two weeks. But then the pain twists—sharp, hot, wrong—and suddenly he’s on the floor, gasping, vision swimming.

He just barely manages to call emergency services before blacking out.

Cut to: The Hospital

The paramedics rush him in with appendicitis.

The doctors are calm and efficient, prepping him for emergency surgery.

But then…

Isack is sitting in the ER waiting room because he tagged along with Ollie—Carlos’s honorary duckling—who rode in the ambulance just in case. He’s scrolling his phone when he overhears a nurse say:

“We have to get him to the OR stat or he won’t make it.”

She’s obviously talking about some other patient. But Isack, already spiraling and deeply dramatic, gasps like he’s in a telenovela.

He bolts up. His fingers tremble as he types into The Group Chat of Idiots:

ISACK:

carlos is dying THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL he’s going into surgery they said “he won’t make it” come to st. martin’s hospital NOW

………………

What Follows Is Absolute Chaos

Charles Leclerc

Was in the middle of doing his 47-step skincare/hair routine. He runs out of the hotel with a face full of moisturizer and hair in foamy clips. No shoes. Not even socks.

“MOVE, I NEED TO SEE MY BOYFR—I mean—MY TEAMMATE.”

Max Verstappen

Was wearing nothing but sweatpants. No Red Bull merch in sight. He vaults over the concierge desk. Nearly kills a poor old man with how fast he drives.

“Out of my way. He can’t die without hearing me say it first.”

Lando Norris

Still in his PJs—banana print. Trips on his shoelaces while trying to FaceTime George and Oscar mid-sprint.

“OH MY GOD HE’S DYING?! NO HE CAN’T DIE, HE HAS TO YELL AT ME”

George Russell

Shows up in a robe from the hotel. Slippers flapping.

“He can’t die! I haven’t even apologized properly for being a jealous dick yet!”

Daniel Ricciardo

Tear-streaked, barefoot, and clutching a stuffed duck he accidentally stole from the McLaren hospitality suite.

“I swear if he dies, I am gonna die too and I’m gonna haunt the FIA.”

Oscar Piastri

Silent, pale, but sprinting. Stops only to buy a vending machine chocolate bar on the way in.

“In case he wakes up and wants something sweet.”

Alex Albon

Screaming. Actually screaming. Wearing one sock, no pants, and a hoodie that says CARLOS IS MY LOML.

“IF HE DIES I’M SUEING DESTINY.”

At the Hospital

They all arrive within ten minutes of each other. They flood the front desk like a pack of emotional hyenas.

“Carlos Sainz. Where is he. We’re his—uh—friends. ALL of us.”

The nurse blinks. “He’s… in surgery.”

Seven grown men collapse into the nearest chairs in sync like synchronized heartbroken idiots.

Charles sobs into George’s robe. Max is pacing, muttering in Dutch. Lando is hugging Oscar like a koala. Daniel is rubbing the duck’s head for luck. Alex is texting everyone a goodbye just in case he dies of heart attack break.

Then Ollie walks in calmly with a juice box and goes:

“He’s fine, you morons. It’s just his appendix.”

Everyone stops mid-panic.

“Wha—what?” Charles hiccups.

“Yeah. They got him into surgery fast. Doctor says he’ll be sore but okay. You all good?”

Isack is happily sipping his apple juice like a kid after soccer practice.

He’s got a snack bar in one hand, legs swinging off the chair.

He’s totally unaware that seven full-grown F1 drivers are emotionally devastated and mentally aged ten years in the last two hours because of one panicked text he sent.

He watches them all in silence for a while—red-eyed, sniffling, curled into themselves like they just watched the saddest movie ever.

Then, earnestly:

“Wait… are you all okay?”

All heads snap toward him.

Max: murder in his eyes Charles: still clutching a tissue and muttering in French Daniel: holding Carlos’s emotional support duck like a baby Oscar: blinking like his brain is buffering Lando: hasn’t spoken in ten minutes, still hugging George Alex: looks like he aged twenty years George: literally trembling

Isack, smiling: “I thought I helped?”

Silence.

Then—

Daniel, voice cracking: “You SAID he was DYING, Isack!”

Isack: shocked “He isn’t?!”

Ollie (rolling his eyes): “Bro. It was his appendix.”

Isack: tilts his head “But the nurse said—!”

Oscar: exasperated “The nurse wasn’t even talking about Carlos it seems! You eavesdropped a random conversation and TEXTED US LIKE HE HAD FIVE MINUTES TO LIVE!”

Isack: “Okay but… you did all come running.”

Max: “I LEFT MY WALLET AND PHONE IN THE HOTEL, ISACK.”

Charles: “I AM WEARING NO SHOES.”

Alex: “I CAME OUT IN PUBLIC IN THIS HOODIE!”

Isack, blinking wide-eyed: “You all really love him that much, huh?”

All of them fall quiet.

The rage fades.

The room settles.

Because yeah.

They do.

They love Carlos Sainz so much that they didn’t hesitate. Not one of them. They just ran.

Isack, still utterly oblivious, beams.

“Well. Guess I did help.”

Ollie groans and thunks his forehead on Isack’s shoulder.

George mutters, “I want to strangle you, but also maybe hug you.”

…………..

Carlos’s eyes flutter open, the sharp pain in his abdomen reminding him that he’s not dreaming.

He groans softly, blinking against the bright white light of the hospital room.

But then—

“Carlos?”

His head turns to the side. The sight that greets him makes him blink again, just to confirm he’s not hallucinating.

There, all of them. Every single one. A ridiculous, sprawling mess of F1 drivers crammed into his tiny hospital room.

The air is thick with exhaustion, but also with an undeniable warmth.

Max is asleep on the floor, head tilted to the side like a tired puppy. Lando has fallen asleep while sitting against the wall, his head slumped on George’s shoulder, both of them still wearing their race suits.

Charles is seated in a chair, hands tucked together, looking like he’s been watching over Carlos the entire time.

Daniel is curled up on a small sofa, one arm around Carlos’s emotional support duck. Oscar, Alex, and Ollie are sprawled out on the floor, limbs tangled in a messy heap of exhaustion.

Carlos blinks again, still processing. He opens his mouth but doesn’t get far.

"Why… why are you all here?"

The noise of shuffling feet and chairs dragging fills the room as one by one, the drivers wake up, stretching and yawning like they’ve just woken from a long, drawn-out battle.

They all move toward him, eyes softening when they see he’s awake.

Charles speaks first, voice a little raw.

"You’re… alive."

Carlos’s lips twitch into a soft smile, his heart swelling in ways he doesn’t know how to express.

He looks around the room, seeing all their eyes on him, their worry, and their relief.

"I didn’t think I’d ever see all of you in the same room at once…" Carlos says softly, trying to ease the awkwardness that still lingers from the letter fiasco.

Max, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, stares down at him. His voice is quieter than usual. "You scared the shit out of us."

Carlos, a little sheepish, gives him a small, apologetic look. "I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think it would turn out like this."

Oscar steps forward, voice full of concern, though his smile is tired.

"We shouldn’t have reacted the way we did. I… I think we were all just so shocked, we didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling."

"And about how we were hurting you, too," adds George, looking away, clearly guilty.

He takes a deep breath before continuing. "You never meant to hurt anyone. We should have talked it out before everything blew up."

Carlos sighs softly, eyes flicking from one face to another.

"I never meant to send the letters. I thought… maybe if I kept everything inside, I wouldn’t risk ruining our friendships. But then I hurt myself instead, trying to pretend that… that I could live without saying anything."

Lando leans forward, still looking a little frazzled, but his eyes are full of earnestness.

"Carlos, we don’t blame you for any of this. We didn’t get it. But we should have. We know now. We just… wanted to say that we’re sorry."

Carlos’s gaze flicks between all of them, and his heart feels lighter with every word. They’re trying, he can see it in their eyes. This is the start of the healing process.

"I just… I thought maybe you’d all be happier if you didn’t know how I felt. I was scared of losing you, and I didn’t want to burden any of you. But I guess keeping it all inside didn’t help either."

Daniel, who’s been quiet until now, leans in.

"Carlos, we’d never want to lose you. I’d rather have you yell at me about your hair than keep all that stuff inside. You matter to us."

Carlos smiles at that, the corners of his mouth lifting a little, his heart swelling with warmth.

He looks at them all again. The mess of them. The chaos. The love.

"I never wanted to break your hearts, or mine… But I was so afraid that I’d hurt you by being honest. And now I’ve hurt us all by not being honest."

Alex gently places his hand on Carlos’s, a silent gesture of support. "We’re going to be okay. But, Carlos, you’ve got to trust us. We’re not going anywhere."

Carlos lets out a soft sigh, feeling the weight lift just a little. The air in the room feels lighter, warmer.

"Thank you," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys."

Then, almost as an afterthought, Isack, who had been lurking at the back of the room and silently watching the whole scene unfold, jumps up from where he was sitting on the floor.

"OH. And, uh… about that time I sent a text saying you were dying… Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to trigger the panic attack. But look at all of you… all worried… you really do love him that much, huh?"

Everyone just stares at him.

Lando, unable to help himself, lets out a short laugh before muttering, "You actually think you helped with that?"

Isack, grinning sheepishly, shrugs. "Well, I thought it was a nice dramatic touch. Didn’t think the whole paddock would go into full panic mode, though."

Carlos, still holding Alex’s hand, chuckles softly, but then his voice turns serious again.

"I’m still not sure how all of this will work between us. I don’t know if I can handle... sharing my heart with all of you."

Charles, who’s been quieter than usual, steps forward, giving Carlos a reassuring smile.

"We’ll take it one step at a time, Carlos. Together. No matter what happens."

And just like that, with the weight of the past few weeks hanging heavy in the air, there’s a sense of peace—fragile, but real.

For now, they’re all just here. And for the first time in what feels like forever, that’s enough.

……………

The morning sun shines cheerily over the paddock, but the atmosphere is anything but light.

There's a chill in the air—not weather-related, but courtesy of Ollie Bearman, Kimi Antonelli, Isack Hadjar, and Gabe Bortoleto: The Ducklings.

Four rookies. Four pairs of judgmental eyes. And they are judging hard.

Oscar walks into the McLaren garage, waving cheerfully.

“Morning, guys!”

Silence.

Ollie, sitting on the pit wall, sips his coffee like it’s poisoned.

“Oh. Look who finally showed up. Not running around shirtless and panicking today?”

Oscar blinks, caught mid-step.

“Ollie, come on—”

Isack joins in, arms crossed.

“I don’t know. I think his panicked half-naked sprint was the only time he used his legs for something meaningful lately.”

“Burn,” Gabe mutters with admiration, sipping his Red Bull mockingly.

Across the paddock, Max tries to approach the Red Bull hospitality unit only to find Kimi Antonelli standing like a bouncer at the door, arms folded across his chest like he's guarding a sacred temple.

“You here to drive or to break hearts again?” Kimi says coolly.

Max opens his mouth—then closes it again.

Meanwhile, Daniel skips toward the Alpine motorhome all chipper and optimistic, only to be stopped by Isack holding up a bright yellow sign like a traffic cop.

The sign reads:

🚧 CAUTION: Idiot Crossing. May cause emotional trauma to national treasures named Carlos Sainz. 🚧

“Seriously?” Daniel gapes. “You guys made props?”

“We printed them overnight,” Ollie says proudly from behind him. “Stapled them all over the drivers’ room.”

Back in the Ferrari hospitality, Charles tries to sneak in unnoticed but is ambushed by all four ducklings standing in formation, blocking his path like angry mall cops.

“Charles,” Gabe says solemnly. “As a former simp, I expected better of you.”

“You were supposed to protect the golden retriever, not make him cry,” Kimi adds with cold disappointment.

Charles clutches his espresso like a lifeline.

“Mon dieu…”

Even George isn’t spared. As he heads toward Mercedes, Ollie walks past him, dropping a single folded note on his desk.

It says:

“You may dress like Prince Charming, but that was not charming at all. 2/10. Do better.”

The only one who manages to get a pass is Alex, because Ollie and Isack have a soft spot for his memes—but even he gets side-eye when he tries to sit with Carlos at lunch.

“We're watching you, Albono,” Gabe mutters. “Like hawks. Duck hawks.”

…………………..

Four years later — post-season break, Tuscany

The villa is loud.

Max is grilling, apron on, tongs in hand, arguing with Charles over the proper amount of salt for meat. Daniel is barefoot on the patio, swaying to a playlist he made titled "Carlos Worship Hour: Vol 26". George is tending to the herb garden because “Carlos likes fresh basil.” Oscar and Alex are trying (and failing) to hang fairy lights across the balcony. Lando is inside, baking cookies. He’s somehow managed to get flour on the ceiling.

And in the middle of it all, sitting on a sun-drenched couch with a book and the world's softest hoodie (stolen from Oscar), is Carlos.

He looks peaceful.

His hair is a little longer now. There are laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He’s glowing with sun and love.

He reads the same sentence five times before giving up and smiling at the chaos unfolding around him.

“Is this what retirement looks like?” Carlos teases, as Lando crashes into Daniel with a tray of semi-burnt cookies.

“Retirement?” Max scoffs from the grill. “You’re not retiring until you win that second title.”

“He already won it last year,” Charles says with a dramatic sigh. “Let the man rest.”

Carlos chuckles, watching them bicker like it’s his favorite movie. Because it is.

This mess—this wild, aching, beautiful mess—is his.

……………………

The fairy lights are finally up (after Oscar nearly fell off the ladder three times), and the table is set under the olive trees. Everyone’s there.

The ducklings too—Kimi, Ollie, Isack, Gabe—older now, race winners, still protective, but proud. Still ducklings at heart.

Carlos sits at the head of the table, not because he asked to, but because the others made him.

Daniel raises a glass.

“To the man who survived seven idiots falling in love with him—”

“—and never once made us feel like second best. To Carlos,” Daniel finishes, eyes warm.

“To Carlos,” they echo, and Carlos’s throat goes tight.

He looks around at them—all the drivers who once broke his heart, now the men who spend every day putting it back together with gentle hands and whispered I love yous.

They still argue, of course. They still compete and clash and forget who’s turn it is to do dishes. But they love him like gravity, like instinct, like breathing.

And this time, Carlos didn’t write letters to hide the love. He lives in it. Wrapped in it. Held by it.

Later – Nighttime

The others are asleep—Max curled protectively at Carlos’s back, Charles draped over his legs, Lando on the floor with a pillow, Daniel snoring with one sock on. Carlos is awake, scrolling through his notes app. Sometimes he still writes. Not to bottle things up, but to remember.

He types:

“I didn’t ruin the friendship. I found a family. I was never too much. I was always just enough. They love me. And I love them back.”

He hits save. Then closes his phone, rests it on his chest, and falls asleep surrounded by the kind of love that once only existed in the letters he never meant to send.

.......

Author’s Note:

Okay. okay. okay. breathe in, scream out—WE MADE IT. This chaotic, unhinged, heart-shattering circus of Carlos + seven idiots is officially FINISHED. 💌🏁

But don’t worry, I am an emotionally damaged gremlin and I will not rest—because guess what? The next story is already cooking: “The Summer I Fell In Love” — yes. it’s Carlos. yes. it’s poly again. yes.

Now for the real talk: While Carlos is out here being loved, worshipped, emotionally cradled and kissed by seven beautiful men, I am:

Writing this at 3AM,

Crying over my simulation lab,

Debating whether I need sleep or just more caffeine,

And if one more person asks me about my “placement prep,” I might throw myself into the nearest server room and become one with the motherboard.

I suffer. I cry. I code. I write. I romanticize fictional love to cope. This is a therapy session disguised as a fic.

So thank you to everyone who read this fic and screamed with me. Carlos deserves love. We deserve less assignments. See you soon in the next poly disaster. I’m already emotionally invested. Bye

— your emotionally overcooked author, Ria desperately trying to graduate and manifest a boy who kneels like Charles did.

#carmax #carlando #charlos #carcar #carbono

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