#but we can only be free if we accept that the only thing we can control is our own choices

[thekaratcake-blog]

Yup, I know pinging @onlyalittleperverse will just cause him to go on some unhinged rant about howi t's cultural appropriation that we are applying modern definitions to... blah blah blah, blatant misunderstanding of what appropriation is or what "trans means"

But it's pretty cool how unbelievably clear it is that these people are trans like we see today, one of many amazing examples of even people as far back as we can go in history speaking of the exact sort of things we experience in the modern day, the fundamental terminology that even they are using and often direct translations of their language, perfectly fitting hte descriptions of certain queer groups today

It is amazing how absolutely inarguable it is that the people depicted here would be considered trans in the modern day

And of course it shows that the rate of hatred and queerphobia we see in the modern day isn't a universal thing, and it's interesting to look how hate of certain groups correlates directly with how much it benefits certain political powers to drive said hate

Stuff like how trans women have been in sports, in the biggest sporting event in the world, the olympics, for 20 years, and until only a handful of years ago, people were dead silent about it, there was no sudden turn, no trans people overtaking female sports, and no trans women even breaking any of the women's records

But as soon as gay people are too widely accepted to be used to spread fear, we see trans people targetted again, all of these decade old things being brought up and treated as if they are some new craze, some crazy new ideaology or movement, to help spread fear among those who don't know any better

To help reinforce the internal fear and predujdice of those who are unaware of the power of their own bias

I hope one day we can break free of this, one day when a politician suddenly and inexplicably shines light on a small group of people doing something "weird", people will see right through them, see them for what they are

Like, why do so few people stop to think "why are transgender people considered a political topic in the first place? This is very clearly a medical question and should have and should still be handled by the medical field and the people who regulate it"

This was the case for decades before the new fearmongering around laws that have been around for ages, but I wonder how many people even realize that trans people using hte right bathrooms, being in sports, just existing overall, isn't a new thing, and it's only framed that way to add urgency to the fearmongering so people feel they have to vote against it NOW, to give power to those who spread that fear NOW

That marginalized groups are being exploited to drive votes towards the parties that attack them and treat them as a threat, that only they may solve

Just as a king might say there is a great dragon on the hill that only he can kill, and his people should be grateful and should keep him in power so that he may do that, when in reailty that dragon is a skink he found on a rock

A history and mythology lesson reminding you that trans and non-binary people have always existed! [Long post]

[ameliasmiscmonsters]

“Your Majesty, is it really… um, necessary for…”

“For what?” You raised an eyebrow as your Dragon Boyfriend loomed from behind you.

His neck was craned around the throne you sat on, head hovering just off the stone slab floor.

The man who’d come to see you, trembled as he spoke his next words. “I… appreciate all the good that he’s done as guard of the Kingdom, but… does he have to be within your presence all the time?”

A puff of smoke escaped the dragons nostrils. “Due to the recent attack on the Harbor,” you replied. “He does. This is as much for your safety as it is mine. He’ll get pouty otherwise.” You smirked as you looked around at the beast beside you.

“’Pouty’?” Your Dragon whipped around to face you, narrowing his eyes at your words. “I do not get ‘pouty’.”

To avoid this becoming a playful back and forth, you turned away from him and gestured for the man to continue, “he’s of no danger to you so long as you’re not trying to do me harm.”

The man swallowed hard. He went on with his request, while the dragon by your side held the man in contemptive gaze.

“My family isn’t sure that we’ll be able to make the next tax payment this month. My wife is due to have another baby in the coming weeks so we really can’t afford to pay the amount of tax demanded… a lot of other families can’t either.” The mans eyes darted to the Dragon.

The Dragon beside you sharply exhaled and turned his head away in disinterest.

“So… would you consider lowering the tax? Even if it was just by a few coins, we would be really appreciative.” The man looked back at you, his hat squeezed tightly together in his hands.

Even from your place on the throne, you could see his knuckles turn white from the strength of his grip.

You gave a side glance to your Dragon, who was now looking back at you.

You knew how much he loved gold, precious things that Humans and Dragons alike valued beyond compare. He loved watching the taxes being hauled in by the knights into the vaults, proud like he was the one who had brought them in himself.

It would be a wound to his ego if you let the tax price drop, especially after everything he did to defend the docks of the attack. In the eyes of the Dragon, he more than deserved that money.

Of course, there were concerns outside of your Dragon partner too.

The docks were still in the process of being rebuilt, and they weren’t even half way done yet. The crown needed every last coin it could get their hands on. With no docks, there’s no accepting merchants who will come in from abroad and trade, no way that returning sailors can come home and see their families.

So, it looked like lowering the tax was a no go… But, that didn’t mean to say that you couldn’t do something different to help the families struggling.

“I sympathise with your plight,” you began. “I know it’s been hard on everyone since the attack on the docks, and given that you’re expecting, here’s what I’ll do:”

The man stood up straighter, twisting his hat in his hands.

“I can’t lower the tax price, but I can do what I can to ensure that you have what you need for the birth of your child, and will do what I can to help any other families who are having trouble making ends meet, while paying the tax.” You stood from the throne and beckoned over a knight. “I’ll arrange for there to be a few free care packages to be sent out. This Knight here will take you to my secretary, you just tell her what you need and what other things your fellows need and then distribute them out evenly, alright?”

The man’s jaw dropped. “W-What? Free? You really mean it, your Majesty?”

“Well, it’s only fair. It’s not like your family planned this for the same time of the attack, is it?” You joked, smiling at the man.

A grin spread across his face and he rushed up to you. “Thank you so much, your Majesty, really thank you so much!”

And before the Knight could get between you and the man, he’d enveloped you in a hug.

“Hey!”

The ground trembled, and a shudder went through your chest.

The Knight finally got between you and the man and pushed him away. “Back away, now.”

As the man backed away from you, his eyes were focused behind you, the old fear back in his eyes.

You looked over your shoulder and found your Dragon, towering over everyone in the throne room, glowering down at the man.

“You don’t get to touch what is above you,” he snarled.

“Hey!” You rounded on the Dragon.

He looked down at you, and sunk at your warning look. He grumbled something inaudible as he settled back down and turned his head to look out of the stained glass window.

You turned your attention back to the Knight, “I’m awfully sorry about that, please don’t feel-”

But the mans face was as white as a sheet, his eyes had glazed over. It was clear there wasn’t a single word he was going to hear from you. Not after that scare.

You let out a sad sigh and gestured to the Knight who still stood beside you, “please escort the gentleman to my doctor and get him some water. When he’s feeling better, please offer him some coin for the fright and take him to my secretary for the care packages.”

The Knight nodded and grabbed the shellshocked man by the upper arm. “Come, now.”

Without much resistance, the man allowed himself to be dragged out of the throne room. Once the doors were closed, you rounded on the dragon.

“You can’t just do that to my subjects.” You scathed. “He was just grateful for the help I was giving him.”

“Peasants should know their place.” The Dragon huffed. “He should have known better than to try and touch you.”

Rolling your eyes, you jabbed a finger at him. “That’s besides the point. You can’t just threaten people like that.”

The pair of you glared at each other.

Your Dragon then sighed. “One of my main jobs here, is to protect you. It’s only natural that I do what others couldn’t.” His amber eyes darted to the remaining knights in the throne room.

There was a clink of their armour as your Dragon suggested. “Maybe you should replace them all.”

“It’s not a matter of them being able to do their jobs,” you returned, “it’s of you controlling yourself. If word gets out that you are intimidating people, it makes the crown and by default you look bad.”

“Then maybe your subjects should remember their place.” He leaned down closer to you, “or perhaps it should be you who does.”

Realising that he was just trying to get under your skin, you replied, “you’re being completely unreasonable. Until you’ve calmed down, you can’t be with me here.”

The Dragon balked. “You can’t be serious! One of the main reasons you keep me here, is to add another layer of protection and now you’re sending me away?”

“Yes!” You pointed to the windows behind your throne. “Go, now!”

At your command, several Knights stepped forward and unlocked the large windows from behind you and pulled them open, providing an easy exit for the Dragon to leave through.

You and the Dragon glared at each other again, before he scoffed and turned. Scaled tail swishing angrily, he spread his wings and took off into the sky.

You watched as he circled the surrounding city, before flying over the Palace and out of sight.

Sucking in a deep breath, you rubbed your forehead and took your place on the throne once again. “Who’s here to see me next?”

And the rest of the morning went on like nothing had happened. It was hard to push an argument like that to the back of your mind when you had to see citizens of your nation, but you did the best you could.

Ever since the attack on the docks, security had been tense, you were aware of that. But there was no need to frighten citizens who were in desperate need of help. You weren’t just about to become a ruler who ignores the need of her people just because of one silly attack.

To the outside world, everyone had to know that you were unfazed by it, which is why you opened your Palace to talk to the people.

By the evening, you were just about ready to collapse. The people all had the same kind of problems, money was difficult, people couldn’t afford basic house hold amenities and the tax.

It looked like you were going to have to offer free nationwide aide to the people at this point. There wasn’t anything else you could think of doing. On the upside, it would be good publicity for the crown and the peoples approval rating would go up.

As you laid in your bed, you stared up at the canopy above your bed. The silky fabric hanging above your head rustled in the wind of the window open behind you.

It was put in after your Dragon had vowed to protect the Palace vaults, and after you two started seeing each other. It was big enough for his whole body to fit through, and your room was easily twice the size it needed to be, so he had no trouble sleeping in the same room as you.

The room felt strangely empty without him in there with you. Normally, he’d have curled up around your bed in the centre of the room, forming a scaled barrier between you and the rest of the world. Protecting you from unseen threats.

Another gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine. Pulling the sheets over your shoulders, you wondered where your Dragon Boyfriend had got to.

He can’t really be that angry with you, could he?

Dragons are proud creatures, there’s no doubt about that. But… had you really offend him so much?

Normally, when he was in a mood, he would have come back to the Palace by lunch and talked through with you what was going on. But there was no sign of him.

You’d sent the guards to go and check where else he could be, and apart from that, there was nothing else you could do.

Before the thoughts could consume you, the sound of claws scraping against stone greeted your ears, and your bedroom shook.

You pushed yourself up from your bed, turning to face the window.

The Dragon had come back. Lowering his head to fit inside your room, he greeted you stiffly. “Hello.”

You sat up straight as he folded his wings and settled behind your bed. Thanks to his massive body, it made it difficult for him to formally address you. So, he bowed his head.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier today.” He said, eyes trained on your carpeted floor. “As you are Queen, it was wrong of me to question your judgement. But, I must say this:” His head rose to meet your gaze.

“You are the only treasure I truly care about. The vaults and everything else that is valuable in this Palace, mean absolutely nothing to me. That man could have been hiding anything, a knife, some kind of airborne poison. All he would have needed to do, was get close to enough to you and then that would be it.” The Dragon pushed his head through your canopy curtains as you placed a hand on his snout. “I should have explained this earlier, and for that, I am sorry.”

Truth be told, you weren’t even thinking of something like that. Looking back, that was a completely legitimate worry.“… All I was worried about was my people.” You voiced your thoughts to him, “it hadn’t crossed my mind that enemies would even try and do something like that to me.”

The Dragon let out a snort. “You are too forgiving of the other humans in this world. They are always scheming, looking for ways to further their own agendas. Which is why you must be more careful.” He leaned away from your touch. “Promise me you won’t allow something like that to happen again? For your own safety?”

“I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t consider that earlier.” You admitted. “Thank you, for looking out for my safety.”

He let another puff of air escape his nostrils. “Someone has to, it’s not like those guards were doing anything to protect you.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, pulling the covers back over your body. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow…” Pursing your lips, you laid in bed. “… Please don’t be gone for that long again. You really worried me for a minute.”

“I didn’t mean to go for so long. I just wanted to make sure I had a clear head.” The Dragon replied as his tail curled around the end of your bed. “I could not willingly leave your side even if you commanded me to go and never come back. I’d find a way to hide in the vaults or watch over the Palace from afar.”

You chuckled at that, drifting off into a soundless sleep, happy that your Dragon was safe.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

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[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 20

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

A/N: omg i'm sorry i know i said i'd post on monday but work is busy and i'm getting ready for a month long trip so i didn't have time to write and post but yeee here we are

When Rafe opens the front door to see his teary eyed girlfriend, he’s hit with a torrent of emotions. Worry and anger battle, but the first thing he does is wrap an arm around Isla’s waist and pull her in for a hug. He knew it; he had an awful feeling that shit might hit the fan between Isla and her sister by the end of their shift, and the sight of Isla’s red rimmed eyes and pink nose proves him right. 

Rafe holds her close, her head against his chest and his free hand at the back of her head. “Are you okay?” he asks, the first and only important question to ask. He holds her close, inhaling her familiar and sweet lavender scent as he feels her arms wind around his waist, sliding under his unzipped hoodie. When he hears her sniffle, Rafe’s grip on her tightens, his jaw clenching in time with his chest. Rafe presses his lips to her temple and when he feels her shudder slightly, his pulse quickens. “Baby, please, talk to me.”

“I’m fucking tired,” she mumbles against him. “Can we—” Isla takes a breath and pulls back a bit, her arms still around him as she looks up. There’s a heaviness in Rafe’s chest when he sees the glassiness of her eyes as she sniffles, the hurt in her eyes that twists his stomach to the point of nausea. Alarm bells ring in Rafe’s head, demanding that he takes care of this—of her. To put an end to what and who is hurting her to the point of making her cry more than once. “Can we get in bed first? Please?”

The way her eyes are begging him, Rafe has no choice but to agree. “Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling her further into the house and locking the door behind her. Sarah’s not home, and neither are his parents, while Wheezie is up in her room. So Rafe takes Isla’s hand in his and leads her up the stairs to his room, shutting the door behind them. “Let me get you some clothes.”

Opening the dresser drawers, he grabs a worn shirt and shorts, and Isla quietly takes them and heads to the bathroom. Rafe sits on the edge of the bed as she uses the bathroom and changes, running his fingers through his hair as nervousness and worry makes his heart pump. He almost prefers the anger to these feelings though, overall, he just wants to make her feel better.

Rafe presses his teeth together, recalling the dirty scowls Kiara had been sending his way when he had gone to The Wreck for lunch. Frankly, Rafe doesn’t care about it; it would be nice if his girlfriend’s sister and friends accepted him, but at the end of the day, he only wants it so things are easier for Isla, so that she isn’t stressed out about worrying over her sister’s and friends’ feelings.

He knows it’s only been a day since they all found out, that it would likely take them time to accept this relationship, but he wishes they would hurry the fuck up. He wishes they would stop making Isla cry before he does something he might end up regretting—solely because it might upset Isla. 

In an ideal world, they all would get along; or, at the very least, Rafe and Isla’s friends would be able to tolerate each other because all that mattered was Isla’s happiness. Why is it so hard for her own friends to see that?

Rafe hears the bathroom door open and shut, looking over his shoulder to see Isla wearing his shirt, which hangs like a dress off of her, hiding the shorts she wears underneath as she places her folded clothes on his desk chair. There’s a dryness in Rafe’s throat as he sees the soft features of her crestfallen expression, full lips downturned and gaze lowered as she crawls onto the bed. Rafe gets up and walks over to the otherside, watching as Isla slides under the covers and he lifts the comforter on his side to get in as well.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna eat something?” he asks, voice gentle as though she’s a fawn he doesn’t want to frighten away.

He watches as Isla turns to her side, facing him, hugging the blanket as she lifts her gaze to look up at him where he sits with his back against the pillows. She looks so small, nibbling on her bottom lip as she shakes her head. “No, I’m not hungry,” she murmurs, the corner of her mouth lifting in a brief half smile.

Rafe nods, not wanting to push her. He turns to sit sideways, facing her, and reaches out to push tendrils of her hair away from her face. He sees the hurt swimming in her eyes and it makes his jaw clench. “You wanna talk about it?”

Isla sniffs, her gaze lifting to meet his. She’s quiet for a moment and Rafe waits patiently—anxiously—and she lets out a breath. “She called me desperate.” The air stills in Rafe’s lungs at the sound of Isla’s slightly hoarse voice, the words she just spoke. “Kiara. They all think I’m making a mistake, that they know you better than I do. They think you’re using me, that I’m just falling for an act you’re putting up. They kept bringing up the past, and I reminded them they’re not all innocent in it, either, and that people can change.” Her gaze remains fixed on his while Rafe feels his chest growing tighter and tighter. “They have no idea what they’re talking about. They’re just. . . Too angry right now to actually hear what I’m saying. It’s all so fucked—” She lets out a dry laugh and he sees a tear leak out of the corner of her eye, falling onto the pillow beneath her. “And talking to them right now is pointless. Not when they’re too stubborn to acknowledge they might be wrong, or that they’re being assholes.”

Rafe’s head spins, processing Isla’s words. Her sister called her desperate? He hates that Isla has faced them by herself, without him by her side to be the pillar of support he wants to be for her. A part of him—a stupid, naíve part of him—had hoped that this wouldn’t be too big of a deal for Isla’s friends, and he knew it before and knows it now how ridiculous that hope was, even if it wasn’t hope for him but for his girl. The pang vibrates pain through chest when he sees the sadness that has settled on her features; he saw it yesterday, and seeing it again today makes him even more desperate to make this right. Even if he’s clueless as to how.

He’s not sure how talking to any of them will go—especially considering how pissed he is with how they have been treating Isla, he may end up saying or doing something he’d regret. The idea of having to prove himself to Isla’s friends irks him, but not more than how much he likes her and wants to be with her. He’ll do anything to prove to her friends that he adores her and wants this relationship to work. But whether they believe him or not is up in the air.

“They’re not being fair to you,” Rafe finds himself saying, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I doubt anything I say will hold any weight with them, but I can try—”

“I know you want to help,” Isla cuts in, sitting up and making the blanket fall around her lap as she faces him, the light of the lamp glinting against her nose ring. “But I told you, they’re too stubborn right now, and angry about it all. It’s all too fresh right now, you know? I doubt talking to them is going to help, whether it’s me or you. And I’m—” She lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she looks at him a bit guiltily. “I’m half afraid if you talk to them, it might not end well for anyone. I don’t want them attacking you or you saying something that might, like, trigger them.” 

He scoffs slightly, though he begrudgingly agrees with her. Whether it’s her friends or him, someone out of any of them could say anything that could make things worse for Isla, and Rafe would much rather not contribute to that. She knows her friends, so he trusts her in what to do, but. . .

“I just feel helpless, you know?” he admits, reaching out and absently playing with her name necklace, noting the way her expression softens. “I want to make this better for you. I hate that you’re hurting and I. . . I hate that it’s because of our relationship.”

“I don’t blame our relationship,” Isla says with a shake of her head, frowning as her gaze searches his. “And I hope you don’t, either. It’s because I hurt my friends—”

“By being with me,” Rafe counters with an arch of his eyebrow, even if his brain is yelling at him to shut up. Is he trying to give her a reason to leave him? To make her realize things with her friends and sister will go back to normal if she left him? What the fuck?

“But they’re hurting me too by not listening to me,” Isla returns firmly, unwavering. “Rafe—” She sighs, taking his hand that was playing with her necklace in both of hers, holding their joined hands to her chest. He can faintly feel her heart thumping under his hand, her touch warm and soft. “I told you, this is all still new for them. It’s a reality they didn’t see coming and I really think they just need some time to accept it. I mean—” Isla exhales heavily. “It’d be great if they stopped being jerks, but I still want to just give them time, you know? And I hope during that time, they’ll see how happy you make me and realize they were wrong.” 

A small, hopeful smile appears on her face as she says those words, and even as Rafe admires the sight of it and the dimples that make an appearance, he sees the hurt that still lingers in her gaze; a sadness that has been there since yesterday. “Just gotta wade through all of the shit.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, his throat working in worry. “I hate that you’re having to deal with this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Isla assures him in a softened tone that makes his heart ache. Her smile returns, dimples and all, as she raises their joined hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His skin sears where her lips touch it. “I know I’ve been crying like a baby—” She cracks a smile when he shoots her a disapproving look because he doesn’t fault her at all for crying “But I do think it’ll work out in the end. Just gotta—”

“Wade through all of the shit?” Rafe repeats, mirth dancing in his eyes and a downturned smile on his lips. He doesn’t like it, this struggle she’s having with her friends, but the least he can do is be here for her. “Alright, you got it.”

Isla smiles before nodding towards the pillows. “Bed time?”

He returns the smile, dipping his chin in a nod. Whatever she needs. “Bed time.”

*****

Opening his eyes when he wakes in the morning, Rafe is in no hurry to get out of bed. He’s got a whole morning routine to work out, take a shower, have breakfast before heading off to work, but this morning he’s ready to postpone all of it in preference to remaining in bed next to his sleeping girlfriend.

He lays on his right side, watching Isla, who lays on her left side. Her body rises and falls gently with the steady breaths she takes, tendrils of dark wavy hair resting against the curve of her cheek as she sleeps. Face bare of any makeup, Rafe admires the light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, more prominent now that it’s the summer time and she spends a lot of time out in the sun. Those full lips are barely parted, her dark hair splayed against the pillow. Beautiful, as always. To the point where just looking at Isla summons a sweet ache in Rafe’s chest.

Lucky. He’s so damn lucky to have her. . . And he hates that it’s causing her pain because of her friends. His own friends have been giving him shit for dating her, but they’ve shut up quickly after Rafe made it clear he wasn’t going to put up with any of that shit—and he was not going to let it slide if any of them made Isla feel uncomfortable in any sort of way. She’s already getting enough of that from her friends, it won’t be happening from his side, too.

Rafe lets out a sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Isla’s head, reveling in her lavender scent, before he carefully gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb her. Running his fingers through his hair, he quickly uses the bathroom before exiting his bedroom. The house is quiet, which means his family is either still asleep or not at home and has already started the day.

As Rafe walks down the stairs, he looks out the window and notes his dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. Walking to the kitchen, he pulls out his phone and texts his old man.

To: Dad

I don’t have any meetings today, but do you need me for anything important?

Rafe begins pulling out ingredients to make breakfast when his dad responds.

From: Dad

No, nothing I can’t handle. Why? Playing hooky?

To: Dad

I wanted to spend the day with Isla. She’s going through a hard time. 

From: Dad

Of course, kiddo. Take care of your girl.

Rafe smiles briefly at his dad’s message before putting his phone on the counter and getting to work, grateful to be a part of the family business so he doesn’t have to answer to anyone other than his dad. Until Rafe takes over, but that won’t be for another couple of years. He’s perfectly fine in putting off that weight of responsibility.

So now, he works on cooking breakfast, relieved that they have all of the ingredients for him to make some omelets. Pulling out some tomatoes, onions, and green peppers, Rafe begins to chop them up. The coffee is brewing and he’s got slices of bread in the toaster, ready to toast, as he pours the cheesy and vegetable omelet mixture onto the pan. The aroma hits him as it cooks, the sizzle of the eggs distracting him from the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen.

“That smells delicious,” Isla muses from behind him, bringing a smile to Rafe’s face when he feels her arms slide around his waist as she comes to stand at his side. His free arm hooks around her shoulders, his other hand holding the spatula, and Rafe presses a kiss to the top of her head, her dark hair in waves down her shoulders. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Isla answers softly, her voice still sleepy as she cuddles into him. Rafe smiles, holding her close as he cooks their breakfast. “Your bed is stupidly comfortable.”

Rafe chortles quietly as he flips an omelet. “You can stay here whenever you want, baby,” he murmurs, meaning every word as he feels Isla relax against him. He hates seeing her upset, feels an intense combination of anger and concern whenever he sees the tears in her eyes. It goes against his nature to not confront Isla’s friends and sister for how they’ve made her feel. They made her cry and he’s supposed to just sit back and let it happen?

He knows Isla said he shouldn’t interfere out of fear that it could make things worse and he respects it because those are her friends. It’s already complicated, and he doesn’t want to fuck things up more. Keeping his mouth shut, though, is difficult because all he wants to do is take care of Isla, in every way possible. If he can’t tell her friends to lay the fuck off, the least he can do is just be here for her. And being right next to her is his favorite place to be.

“Want some help?” Isla asks, her gaze looking around, and Rafe can tell she wants to do something to keep herself occupied.

“Yeah. You wanna get our coffee?” he asks, nodding towards the Keurig.

Isla hums in affirmation. He feels her rise up on her toes, though, before her lips press to his cheek, and Rafe smiles at the sweet kiss as she moves to make their coffee. “When are you going to work?” she asks.

“I’m not,” Rafe answers. When she throws him a quizzical—yet hopeful—look, he chuckles. “Took the day off because I wanted to spend it with you.” When Isla’s lips part in surprise, Rafe pauses before sucking a breath through his teeth, realizing he may have gotten ahead of himself. “But I should’ve checked if you had plans today already.”

She lets out a laugh, the sound lightening his chest as she gives a shake of her head. “No other plans,” she says, the Keurig now on as she walks back over to him. “You have something in mind?” 

Rafe plates one of the omelets and pushes down the lever of the toaster. “How ’bout a beach day?” he asks, nodding towards the window that shows clear blue skies. “It’s the perfect beach day, I think.”

Isla’s gaze flicks towards the window before a smile grows on her face. Dimples and all. Rafe’s heart pounds. “Yeah, that sounds fun,” she agrees with a gentle nod. “I’m gonna need to head home to grab my bathing suit and—you mind if I surf?”

Rafe snorts out a laugh as he plates the second omelet. “Why would I mind?” Shooting her a smirk, he adds, “You’re not getting me on a board, though.”

She mirrors his smirk, shrugging a shoulder. “We’ll see.”

When breakfast is ready, Rafe sets the small round table by the glass wall looking into the backyard. Isla laughs when, after she sits, Rafe grips the bottom of her chair and drags her towards him so she’s as close as she can be. The morning sunlight bathes into the room as Isla pulls her hair up in a bun, a few wavy tendrils escaping and framing her heart shaped face. She’s glowing, even if her eyes are a little red rimmed—but she’s smiling, and he doesn’t want that to disappear.

“This is so good,” she mumbles after swallowing the first bite of egg and toast, widening her eyes at Rafe from where she sits on his left. As she reaches for her mug, she adds, “Gonna need you to make me breakfast, like, every day.”

Rafe grins, arching an eyebrow. “You won’t hear any arguments from me,” he answers. 

“Been holding out on me,” she mumbles, shooting him a feigned glare as she eats. “We should have you work at the Wreck. That’d really set Kie off.”

Rafe scoffs, leaning back in the chair as he grabs his own mug. “She might kill us,” he points out.

Isla scoffs after swallowing her bite. “I’d like to see her try.” Sigh, she leans back as well, right leg crossing over her knee as she shakes her head and looks at him. “I don’t wanna think about what happened yesterday, okay? I just—we move forward. Whatever the hell’s gonna happen, is gonna happen. I’m fine.”

When Rafe meets her gaze pointedly, not wanting her to lie to him, she huffs. “I will be fine,” she corrects begrudgingly. Putting her mug down, she reaches towards him and rests her hand at the back of her head. He leans his head back slightly, more into her touch as he feels her fingers in his heart, the sensation one he loves feelings as much as she loves doing it. “Thank you for breakfast.”

His hand rests on her knee. “Literally any time.”

“Is your family home?” she asks as they return to eating.

“Dad and Rose are at work,” he answers, his gaze sliding in the direction of the stairs. “Wheezie’s probably asleep and Sarah. . .” He trails off with a confused stretch of her name. “She’s either also asleep or spent the night at John B’s. I can’t keep track anymore.”

Isla hums in acknowledgement, gaze dropping to her plate as she goes to take another bite. But Rafe catches the melancholy look that darkens her eyes, and Rafe wants to desperately get rid of that look. “So! Shower after breakfast and then the beach?”

Isla nods, looking at him with a gentle smile. “Sounds good.”

They finish up breakfast and Isla helps Rafe clear the table even though he tries to gently bump her hip out of the way, but she only shoots him an easy smile as she helps him load the dishwasher. It doesn’t take long for them to head back to his room without running into either of his sisters, and as Rafe opens his closet door, he glances at Isla over his shoulder.

“You wanna shower first?”

She looks at him, gaze flickering up from her phone. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Or we can shower together,” she suggests, cheeks prettily pink.

She doesn’t have to tell him twice.

Five minutes later, they’re under the hot spray of his shower, massaging shampoo into their hair and Rafe can’t help but smirk at the fact that Isla is going to smell like him afterwards. “Ugh, this feels so good,” Isla moans in satisfaction when she stands under the spray, washing the shampoo out with her head tilted back and eyes closed—and utterly oblivious to Rafe’s hungry gaze.

His breathing shallows out as he watches rivulets of water trail down the swells of her breasts, a delicious handful as his mouth waters with the need to get those pert nipples in his mouth, just a few shades darker than the smooth brown of her flawless skin. Before he can even think about it, Rafe’s hands are reaching forward until they’re resting on the swell of her hips, prompting Isla’s eyes to open to meet his immediately.

The green of her eyes always takes his breath away, reminding him of the deep green of tree leaves when spring and summer meet. His new favorite color, he admires, as he pulls her close until their fronts are pressed together, feeling the perfect mounds of her breasts against his torso as she looks up at him with arched eyebrows as she pushes her dark hair until it’s slicked back.

“Can I help you?” she inquires playfully as he admires the way droplets of water caught on her eyelashes. A smile dances on the edge of her mouth, showing off those dimples he’s obsessed with.

“Just admirin’,” Rafe answers, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hips as the water surrounds them both. 

Isla’s grin widens, effectively deepening her dimples. It makes him weak in the damn knees. “Maybe you should be showering instead.”

Rafe scoffs out a laugh, tilting his head. “Isn’t that why you asked me to shower with you?” he muses with a slow growing grin, looking down at her. He raises his hands, cupping her cheeks, her face heart shaped and perfectly sized to fit in the palms of his hands as he wipes droplets of water away from the apples of her cheeks, though new drops replace them. He is sure his heart does a somersault in his chest when she squints her eyes with that grin she gives him. “Pretty sure it wasn’t for just showering.”

“Oh, so you can read my mind now, huh?” Isla asks, her own arms winding around him and Rafe’s grin widens impossibly when he feels her familiar touch cup his ass as she pushes herself closer into him. When Rafe hums his affirmative, Isla laughs and he watches as she goes on the tips of her toes and tilts her chin up to him. 

“Yeah, baby, I can read your mind,” Rafe murmurs before kissing her, using his grasp on her cheeks, his pinkies under her jaw, to tilt her head back up. Rafe groans appreciatively when her lips open under his almost immediately, always loving how responsive she is as his hands bury in the thick of her wet hair, feeling her fingers run up and down his back as Rafe turns her until her back is against the wall.

Isla’s back arches, her nails digging into his back as she gasps, “Oh, my God, that’s cold.” She laughs, the pretty sound echoing off the tiles of the shower as her arm hooks around his neck and Rafe keeps kissing her smiling lips.

“Want me to turn?” he asks, thinking of her comfort even as he nips at her lower lip.

“Nuh-uh,” she murmurs with a shake of her head, returning the kiss eagerly. “Just want you.”

Well, he’s never one to deny her anything, shooting her a smirk as he lowers down to his knees, trailing kisses down her body as he does. His gaze never leaves Isla’s face, her cheeks flushed and lips kiss swollen as her chest moves quickly with the way her breathing grows shallow with every kiss he places across the planes of her stomach and her hip bones as his fingers brush and down the backs of her thighs. 

The hot shower spray hits his back and shoulders as he kisses up the inside of her thighs before he licks up her center. He earns an instant reaction from her in the way she cries out and her hand finds home at the back of his head, fingers sliding through the short wet strands of his hair as Rafe licks into her. She tugs, he groans, and her body shudders as his tongue flicks her clit and when Rafe flickers up, he sees her tilting her head back and her free hand pressed to her mouth to silence the sounds escaping.

And Rafe won’t have that.

“What’re you doing?” he asks lowly, looking up at her but not fully pulling away, teasingly using his tongue to trace her lips from where he remains kneeling. “Let me hear you.”

Isla shakes her head, skin flushed, and Rafe knows it’s from both the hot shower and from him licking and sucking at her. Through her fingers, she gasps out, “Your sisters—”

“They can’t hear shit from here,” Rafe says, his words coming out as a low growl. When he sucks her clit into his mouth, Isla lets out a sharp cry, the sound just as loud as he wants, and he grunts in satisfaction. “That’s it, baby.”

He feasts on her as if he didn’t just have breakfast, spreading her open with his fingers and diving his tongue in as deeply as he can, drunk on the taste of her as he feels her tremble under his touch. He’s obsessed, honestly, with how her body reacts to him; every ragged breath and desperate moan and quiver of her muscles all the while her fingers tighten in his hair.

“God—oh, God, yes,” she moans, her hips moving with him, grinding her pussy against his mouth “Just—I’m so close—”

Another suck of her clit and she falls apart with a sharp cry and Rafe groans as the sweet, familiar taste of her hits his tongue, taking everything she’s giving him and letting her ride her climax on his tongue. She grows limp but Rafe’s hold on her his tight as he rises to his full height, and although Isla is catching her breath, she doesn’t hesitate in surging up and kissing him. 

Their tongues meet and Isla moans softly as she no doubt tastes him on her tongue and it sends a rush of hot blood straight to his cock, making him realize just how painfully hard he is. “Fuck,” he hisses when Isla’s hand wraps around his cock.

“Need you inside of me,” she says into their kiss—if it can be classified as that, with just their lips sliding against one another, breathing together. “Now, Rafe.”

His lips quirk up in a breathless sort of a smirk, his pulse electric when she gives a slow, teasing pump of his cock. “Love it when you get bossy,” he murmurs as his hands slide to her hips, then lower to her thighs.

“I prefer to call it knowing what I like,” she laughs gently as he grips the back of her thighs. “Now?” she asks knowingly.

Rafe nips at her bottom lip. “Now.”

She jumps up carefully, Rafe’s grip secure on her thighs as she wraps her legs around him, her arms around his neck and lips finding his again under the spray of water. Isla’s hand, wrapped around his cock, guides him towards her entrance, and all Rafe can think is that he wouldn’t mind adding this to his morning routine.

--

taglist: @jenniesbuttercup-blog @combatbabys-world @talkfastromance4 @you-got-me-starry-eyed @invisiblexcth @freshsturniolo346 @theafournier97 @danismyth04 @fl0werlver @perfectprettypisces @pameluuu @melsbels-zip @gabrielaperez11 @katieeeeb @cenzie811148

[david-talks-sw]

Back in 2021, @writerbuddha wrote this amazing post where he interweaved Lucas' words in his meta post defending the Jedi. I'd like to take a page out of their book and start a 4-part series of posts on Anakin. So, with illustrations by Brian Rood, I give you:

In George Lucas' words: The Fall and Return of Anakin Skywalker

- Episode I -

Episode I exists to show us that Anakin Sykwalker makes it into Jedi school, becomes free, and realizes his dream. But in the process, he has to go through a lot of painful sacrifices.

When we meet Anakin, he is a young slave boy who dreams of becoming a Jedi. Lucas makes it a point that, he’s a really wonderful, angelic little kid.

This is intentional. The reason George started the story where he did. He played with having Anakin start out in his late teens like Luke, or age him down to twelve-years-old. The problem was that a twelve-year-old leaving his mother - as Anakin does - is not nearly as traumatic as a nine-year-old leaving his mother. And there is a key story point that revolves around the fact that he was separated from his other at an early age, and how that has affected him.

The whole point of Anakin’s arc in the Prequels is that Anakin is a normal, good kid. And how does somebody who is normal and good turn bad? What are the qualities, what is it that we all have within us that will turn us bad?”

Well, Anakin has some flaws - and those flaws ultimately do him in. Those flaws are hard to see in Episode I, but they are there. He’s cursed by the same flaws, and issues that he has to overcome, that all humans are cursed with. There's a lot going on there. 

In Episode I, we see that there are a lot of parallels between Luke and Anakin. In Episode IV, Luke does struggle with his commitment to his uncle and his commitment to a larger destiny. His heart is to go and go off on this adventure, but he's caught in his obligations to the mundane, so to speak.

Eventually, Anakin takes a different road than his son takes, but it’s been set-up for you to almost expect that they will go— that Luke will follow in his father’s footsteps. Once again, these are issues that Anakin, Luke, and anyone can confront.

After all, once he liberates himself through a Podrace, Anakin is confronted with the fact that he will need to leave his mother, Shmi, behind. Shmi is caught in a struggle. She loves her son, but she wants a better life for him and has to let him go.

So she does. Right off the bat, the first movie shows Anakin’s mother display a type of selfless love - which Lucas refers to as “compassion” - that Anakin will only really be able to learn in the last movie.

Now, when they get to Coruscant, Anakin needs to be tested to allow him to be accepted as a Jedi, eventually. Because he has the powers… but as Yoda points out, there’s a lot of fear in him, and anger. That’s why they actually deny him the chance to become a Jedi. But it’s also - when they relent later on - it’s the thing that ultimately begins to describe some of his downfall.

In theory, the child should have been trained by Yoda until he was about seven or eight years old. And then when he was seven or eight, he'd be given a Jedi, he'd become the Padawan learner to a Jedi. 

But Qui-Gon wants Anakin to skip the early training and jump right to taking him on as his Padawan learner, which is controversial, and ultimately, the source of much of the problems that develop later on.

It is obvious that Qui-Gon is wrong and made a dangerous decision, but ultimately this decision may be correct. Anakin is indeed the chosen one.

That doesn't mean that the Council's prediction is wrong. The tale meanders and both the prediction and Qui-Gon are correct. Anakin will be taken over by dark forces which in turn destroy the balance of the Galaxy, but the individual who kills the Emperor is Darth Vader— also Anakin, who brings peace at last with his own sacrifice.

Once Qui-Gon dies, ironically enough, it’s Obi-Wan that has to train Anakin and take care of him and take over the responsibility that Qui-Gon has started. The Jedi Council let Anakin in and they make him Obi-Wan's Padawan.

Sources:

The Phantom Menace Commentary Tracks #1 and #2, 1999

Cut Magazine, 1999

Premiere, 1999

The Making of The Phantom Menace, 1999

Star Wars Insider #52, 2000

A New Hope, Commentary Track, Special Edition DVD, 2004

The Making of Revenge of The Sith, 2005

The Cinema of George Lucas, 2005

Starlog Magazine #337, 2005

BONUS: How George describes Obi-Wan's initial thoughts on Anakin

Throughout the film, Obi-Wan is at odds with Qui-Gon, who rebels against the Jedi rules. So when he meets him, Obi-Wan does not trust Anakin. He’s not a big fan, he has a suspicion, this initial skepticism toward Anakin which is why Lucas didn't want to overplay the scene where they first meet.

He’s like the reluctant elder brother saying, “You’re not leaving him with me. I don’t want to babysit anymore, I want to go out and do something good.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan disagree about using what one would call in mythological terms "the guide." One believes in the guide. The other one doesn't. Obi-Wan’s argument is that taking on characters like Jar Jar or Anakin with them on the trip is “going to slow us down. This is not a wise thing to do.” 

It's a classic mythological motif but at the same time, it's conflict. The characters have to grow so what happens is that eventually the character that is very much against doing this has the obligation transferred to them. 

So by the end of the film, Obi-Wan has become Qui-Gon, by taking on his rebellious personality and responsibilities.

 Obi-Wan commits, and tells Anakin that he’s going to train him. He has character and takes responsibility. Han Solo would’ve left him out on a desert planet somewhere.

Sources:

The Phantom Menace Commentary Tracks #1 and #2, 1999

The Making of The Phantom Menace, 1999

The Making of Revenge of The Sith, 2005

The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

[captainlordauditor]

If I may offer an alternative perspective on Dick's comment on redemption:

"Redemption" is often used to mean "repentance" but it can also mean "liberation". If we look at it in this context, Dick's words have a double meaning - not only does he believe he needs to repent of be forgiven for giving up on Jason, but he's also saying that doing the hard thing can be freeing. Not only does it reflect a shift in philosophy about letting go, it also indicates a greater acceptance of the responsibility of being Batman in general.

Jason being turbo evil during the Dickbats era is so interesting when thinking about Black Mirror. I don't think it's intentional, but SO many things could be read differently in the context of Dick and Jason's relationship.

Like the core theme in Black Mirror is letting go vs. not letting go, which manifests in the circus motif of holding onto someone who's falling:

Importantly, Dick is on the side of letting go. Of releasing, of letting things fall. It's probably just meant to distinguish him from Bruce, but it's interesting that this is happening post-Battle for the Cowl, which ended with this scene (in Battle for the Cowl #3):

This fall represents Dick's inability to save Jason, and Jason's unwillingness to save himself. So the falling/letting go motif in Black Mirror could be read in direct response to this - he had to let go of Jason (physically and emotionally) to become Batman.

Jason's name never appears in Black Mirror, and he is only alluded to once. In an auction selling off items of horrific value, the auctioneer puts up the crowbar that Joker beat Jason with for sale:

This crowbar is what Dick is using in the above image where he says "the feeling is like slipping, like your hands sliding out of the hands holding you". This again connects Jason to Dick's philosophy of letting go, but Dick never actually thinks about Jason. His internal monologue here is entirely general, despite him holding the item that killed his brother; his mentality has completely let go of Jason, to the point where he doesn't think about him anymore.

Dick's response to Alfred finding the crowbar is also interesting:

There's something dismissive about the way he says "just toss it in the river," yet it's clear (through his shadowed facial expression) that the crowbar deeply troubles him. It's the war between letting go (tossing it in the river) and not letting go (keeping the crowbar). He then talks about the growing evil of Gotham, which is another of Black Mirror's motifs - being unable to recognise something that was once familiar. I wonder how much of that is also linked to Jason, whose turn in Battle for the Cowl is described by Dick as "a flipped switch".

Jason's words also echo throughout Black Mirror. In Batman and Robin #6, as well as Battle for the Cowl #3, Jason is the most vocal about Dick being a bad successor for Bruce:

Dick's insecurities about being a good Batman in Black Mirror can be traced back to these conversations, and Jason gets Dick so bad in Batman and Robin that Dick actually tries to resurrect Bruce in the next issues. Despite Jason never appearing in Dick's internal monologues, it's clear he heavily affects Dick's actions and beliefs, or at the very least compounds his insecurities as Batman.

Of course, the most obvious parallel to Jason is James Gordon, Barbara's (clinically) psychopathic brother. I think Babs and Dick mirror each other a lot here - they both have the attitude of 'letting go' of their respective brothers, whereas Jim represents holding on. The narrative itself, though, implies Jim is right:

Holding on isn't about forgiving James for his actions, but about never giving up on him. About believing that he (and, by extension, Gotham) deserves someone who will stay and fight (to protect them, and to protect others from them). Dick comes to understand this:

Dick uses the word "redeemed" here on himself, implying he feels he needs to be redeemed for something - in the context of this post, we could read it as his failure to save Jason, a failure baked into his adoption of the Batman mantle from the start. More importantly, this monologue shows a shift in Dick's philosophy. The idea of letting go is the idea of mobility, something Black Mirror hammers home with the circus imagery. Here, Dick is rejecting that in favour of stability - of staying still, or fighting instead of dodging.

If the New 52 hadn't interrupted the Dickbats era, it would've been interesting to see Dick deal with Jason in this new light. He's tried to help Jason before, but kind of accepted that Jason would never use it:

Post-Black Mirror, though, I think Dick would have a different approach to 'saving' Jason. Idk I just think there's some untapped potential in their dynamic that this era represents, as it indicates a potential repairing of their relationship rooted not necessarily in Dick's love for Jason, but in Dick's newfound approach to Gotham and redemption.

[pigeonstab]

(Slides you a coupon for 1 free post about characters)

I am asking politely to hear your Nightmare thoughts, if you don't mind sharing (If you still don't wanna you can ignore this, no pressure c: )

Arghhh ty v .v

Honestly I feel like there's so much to do about like- y'know we see Nightmare as a very confident character but I feel like he keeps a lot to himself. Like we've talked about what he keeps from his gang and stuff, mostly his history with Dream and Something I find really fun actually is when the team doesn't even know that Dream and Nightmare are brothers at first. Like they know the boss has beef™ with this guy but he's not gonna tell them anything more so they just accept it and don't really question it, even if they did they probably wouldn't get much out of Nightmare. I really like the idea of like, they're fighting the stars and Dream's calls Nightmare 'brother' and the gang's just like "BROTHER???". And AGRHHH I just love how fucking lost Nightmare is. He acts so composed but he's really not. He has his reasons against Dream, and he's really mad at him but he just can't help but long for his childhood. Cause it feels like nothing has been right since then. Even if as a kid it wasn't that nice Dream was always by his side and that was the only real connection and happiness he had. And just, I feel like he misses Dream a lot more than he ever lets on. Nightmare doesn't want to seem weak, because he's been weak once and he was hurt so badly for it. He never wants to hurt like that again and so he shuts things out.

He's just a huge control freak I think.

[astroidology]

astro notessss - part ???

mars in pisces easily catches feelings because they won’t ever stop thinking about that one person. Most of times they don’t even know the person, it’s just what they feel. And they tend to have a very sweet approach to love, lots of emotions, kinda like not being able to fck around with other people once they’re in love. They also feel like they have to vocalize it to get over it.

mercury in any fire sign (leo/aries/sagittarius) are always having to tell people it’s just a joke lol they tend to be very direct and their type of humor is usually so stupid, it sounds like their making fun of everyone but it’s also usually their love language. they love when people match their energy, they feel free to say anything and they lovee ittt. another thing is If they don’t fck with you, they won’t even bother to talk to you.

moon in pisces struggles a lot to open up. it’s such a weird thing because they wear their heart in their sleeve so everyone knows they’re not doing well, people notice there’s something off, you can even see it in their face and eyes, but a moon in pisces will never be able to fully talk about it, it’s almost like talking about it makes it real and they don’t want any negative feelings. We all know they live in their own dream world, where it’s safe and peaceful and happy. and it’s all good until it hits them; reality. And they hate it. they want to crawl back in bed, fall asleep for days. They need to shut their minds off so it’s very common for them to develop escape mechanisms. really bad habits that make them feel so good.

venus in aquarius is an interesting placement. it reminds me a lot of venus in virgo and I do think they have a lot of things in common but even when they happen to be very similar, I still think venus in aquarius is more complex than that. They need reassurance in any way possible because it makes them feel safe but they are too afraid to committing to someone and having to emotionally depend on someone. And it’s not that they’re disloyal, if anything they’re one of the most loyal placements. they love imperfections, they love the real and raw. they understand there’s more to people and they accept people. but they’re afraid of it. they don’t think someone will be able to love their imperfections, so as soon as they start feeling too much, they take a couple steps back. they suddenly need some space. or at least that’s what they think they need. and it’s always something that they can’t even understand themselves.

Mars in sagittarius are the most passive aggressive unlike the other fire mars (aries/leo). They will never want to be seen as the crazy ones but they say and do things to push people’s buttons. It’s interesting how they can turn the table on others lol they be doing sht and acting so surprised if you do it to them. Usually mars in aries or leo are more out there and direct, they don’t care to look crazy lol … Alsooo sagittarius is very open when it comes relationships, they are prone to cheat because they need the excitement and the adrenaline to keep them motivated. They’re likely into threesomes or polyamory. And are definitely big flirtss lol

Moon in leo are full of strong feelings. This is when leo is taking over the emotions so if they’re sad, they’re going to feel really sad. If they’re happy, you’re able to see it from a mile away. Leo usually wears their heart in their sleeve even though they try to hide their feelings a lot. Leo naturally loves attention but only the good kind. This placements almost feels like wanting to just throw yourself out there but being too afraid to be judged. Pride also plays a big thing here. Whenever they feel offended or unwanted, they’ll go away. They don’t talk. Being alone it’s sometimes not a good thing for this placement because they get so lost in their sadness, they need some good people and some good words to lift them up again.

[goldenroutledge]

we were liars

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

word count: 8.4k

summary: inspired by taylor swift’s cruel summer.

warning(s): angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, baku ‘24 crash, mutual pining, two stubborn idiots in love basically.

a/n: this has been a long time coming! longest thing i’ve written in years and i loved every minute of it! enjoy <3

They say there’s no place like home. Whether that’s a person or a feeling, it’s hard to tell. Every summer allows you to figure that out, but at what point do you lose hope in trying? At what point do you resign to the feeling of wanting someone so badly, knowing they’re impossible to have? At what point do you stop torturing yourself into facing that fact?

Seeing as it was impossible to decline Carlos’ invitation to join his summer vacation, finding answers would be a hopeless pursuit. Not that you were paying close attention or anything, but plans were always tentative around this time of year. Knowing that whenever he calls, you’ll answer. It’s always around mid-late July, many nights during the race weekends that have you awake in the middle of the night, on the receiving end of his late night thoughts. It’s by that point in the season that Carlos begins to feel restless, carrying more doubts in his ability than he’d care to admit.

But he’s only human. He needs a break. He needs to retreat back to the solace that calms the soul, an unfamiliar peace that he doesn’t stop craving until he sees you again. For most months out of the year, Carlos settles on the sight of you running through his imagination until he musters the courage to give you a call. He settles once again when he wishes you sweet dreams to mask the three words and eight letters that rest on the tip of his tongue. Just friends or not, Carlos settles for having you in his life any way he can. You’ve already attended the many races he’s asked you to come to, sometimes with less than a day’s notice. Summer break is the reunion you both can count on, always overdue no matter how much time you’d spent apart.

The journey to the house has your mind buzzing with possibilities, or theories, as to how your dynamic with Carlos will be. Will you pick up like you never left off? Will you keep pretending that nothing’s changed between you two? For now, you’d have to put that on hold. Given that Lando had been accepted as an honorary member of the Sainz family, it was no surprise to see him, tan as ever, answering the door at Carlos' vacation home. “Y/n! Long time no see!” He greets you with a bright smile and a hug, offering to help you with some of your bags.

“No kidding, it’s nice to see you too!” You smile warmly, eyes instinctively drifting past him in search of his best friend and former teammate. “How’s your break so far?”

“Much needed.” He sighs, gathering your bags in an attempt to take them all in one trip. Lando starts rambling about his triumphs and defeats so far this season at McLaren, feeling comfortable enough to divulge his true thoughts in your company, sans the media training.

Any remarks you had in response suddenly leave you, heart melting under the gaze of those gorgeous brown eyes you know so well. Carlos’ lips turn up into a smile at the sight of you, eagerly opening his arms to meet you in a crushing embrace. “Look who made it to Mallorca!”

Your smile spreads so wide that your cheeks begin to hurt, not that you care. “I wouldn’t miss it. You know I’m not one to pass on a free vacation.”

“Ah, come on.” He grumbles at your teasing words. “Tell me you didn’t miss me, too.” You both relax in each other’s arms, never pulling too far away. To see him like this, up close and personal, feels like a dream. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while and you admire how handsome the length looks on him.

“Maybe a little bit. But it’s not like we haven’t been on the phone nonstop. We always keep in touch.”

“That’s true, but those phone calls don’t beat the real thing. They’re not even close.” Carlos runs a finger underneath your chin, so quickly that if he didn’t have your full attention, you would’ve missed it. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Who would’ve thought you would be so happy to see little old me when you’re rubbing elbows with the rich and famous every weekend. You have it all.”

He smiles, but shakes his head in playful disagreement. “Not everything.”

“Ahem.” Lando clears his throat, still visibly struggling with your luggage at the front door. “Hate to burst your little love bubble but would anyone care to help me carry this?”

His interruption startles you and Carlos, causing you both to retract from the other’s hold and stand at a very platonic and appropriate distance away from each other. Not that you were just caught in anything unusual, but it sure felt like your parents just saw your prom date kissing you goodnight on the front porch.

“Jesus Y/n, is your suitcase full of bricks or something?”

“Just bikinis.” You laugh, not missing the way Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at you before going to help poor Lando carry your bags upstairs. “Gotta get my money’s worth out of them. Not all of us get paid millions to drive in circles, you know.”

Lando scoffs. “We’re only here for a week. How many of them could you possibly need?”

“She needs options, cabrón.”

“See, Carlos gets it. What’s wrong with you?”

“Sure. Defend her.” Lando snides at the Spaniard. “I’ll remember that.”

—

The summer holiday not only gave you an opportunity to restore your serotonin levels and forget that the outside world existed, but it was also a chance to reconnect with the people you hold dear. (Sometimes) Lando, Carlos, and of course his sister Ana. Being close with Carlos’ family was a packaged deal with anyone he was also close to himself. The four of you together made for unforgettable memories. The day had been spent on the water, with Carlos showing off his ability to pilot something other than a Formula 1 car.

“Enough of the boring conversation please!” Ana interjects Lando & Carlos’ chatter about their latest golf game, wanting to revert the conversation back to something interesting at dinner. “I have a burning question I need to ask Y/n. And I know that somebody here would love to know the answer. So, who are you dating?”

Her question changes the mood suddenly, a mix of interest and curiosity filling the atmosphere. It takes you by surprise even though you don’t have to pause to think about it because the answer is simple. It’s not complicated, even if your feelings for the man sitting across from you are anything but.

“I’m not dating anyone.”

This draws a dramatic gasp from your friend beside you, one that conceals a subconscious sigh of relief from Carlos.

“What do you mean? How is that even possible?”

You chuckle at Ana’s amazement, feeling unexpectedly shy with your love life being the topic of conversation. “It just is. I’m not really interested in dating anybody right now.” As if Carlos wasn’t listening closely before, he sure is now. The inquisitive looks you receive from each of your friends prompts you to explain yourself further. “I mean what’s the point, you know? If I don’t see a future with someone, why would I put myself through that? Knowing it’s gonna end in disappointment.”

“I’m just saying, you’re way too hot to be single. Isn’t that right, Carlos?” Ana defends, smirking at the harmless embarrassment she’s pushing on her brother. He shoots her a sharp look and draws a pained gasp from her when he (harmlessly) kicks her shin under the table. Carlos clears his throat to hide it, but their interaction is evident, and ever true to their sibling dynamic.

“She’s right. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

The tips of your ears burn at his compliment, but you know he’s only saving himself. He’s the gentleman everyone knows him to be and adores him for by giving you a line that’s been written into romantic comedies since they came to be. “Thanks, Carlos.”

His heart clenches at your words, unable to tell if you really believe it or not. He knows that his statement was vague and it toes the line of friendship more than he would like, but he’s also at a loss. How could he even begin to describe the ways he loves you, or notices everything about you, big and small? How he lied when he said anyone would be lucky to have you, knowing that most people wouldn’t even come close to deserving the love you have to offer. He knows that he’s not supposed to feel this way, let alone tell you and destroy the friendship you have. Locking eyes with you across the table, he wishes you could read his mind. Instead, he settles for a polite smile.

—

Once the boat is docked, it doesn’t feel right to abandon the sunset and head back to the house. The air on the beach is crisp, smelling of the clear waters and reflecting the pink and golden hues of the setting sun. Lando and Carlos are the last to leave the boat, carrying a beer cooler to where you and Ana sit down in the sand.

Carlos hands you a drink before taking a comfortable seat next to you. The silence is tranquil as you rest your head on his shoulder, admiring the gifts that Mother Nature has to offer. A warm feeling envelopes Carlos as he peers down at you, one that he can’t pass off as just the alcohol starting to move through his system. He wants to commit this moment to memory. If he’s settling for this, then he isn’t settling at all.

“We should play Truth or Dare.” Lando suggests, growing bored of the silence, though it was nice while it lasted. His expression turns puzzled at the looks he receives from the rest of you. “What? It’s fun.”

“If you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, you would’ve made one hell of a frat boy.” You tease, Ana and Carlos agreeing with you.

Lando sighs. “I know. What a waste right?”

“But then we would’ve never become teammates.”

“You’re right.” Lando chuckles, toasting his drink with Carlos’ at the realization.

“I’ll go first.” Ana speaks up, interrupting the boys before they could get too deep into their side chatter. Judging by the closeness she’s seen from you and her brother, what’s the harm in trying to help things along? “Carlos, truth or dare?”

Carlos takes a sip of his drink before throwing his head back dramatically. By his sister’s not so subtle hints throughout the night, and really every time you are in each other’s presence, he can feel where this is going. Yet a part of him isn’t mad at it.

“Truth.”

“Boooor-ing.” Lando sneers and you can’t help but giggle. Ana gives him a look as if to say, not so fast.

“Are you in love?”

Lando regrets ever saying anything in protest, as he nearly chokes on his beer once Ana finishes her sentence. Given what he knows, it’s impossible for him to not die of laughter at the scenario. Watching Carlos fight for his life on this question tops any interview moment they’ve had inside a Formula 1 paddock. Carlos pauses, which luckily for him can be passed off as pure concern for his best friend that’s currently gasping for air.

Your chest feels tight at the question, not expecting Ana to go there. You know Carlos’ life being on the road as a very rich and attractive athlete probably isn’t one of abstinence, but you can’t deny that it doesn’t crush you to imagine someone else having the key to his heart. You take a few gulps from your drink and it makes you worry that if this keeps up all night, there won’t be any alcohol left for you to drown your feelings in. They’ll just stay trapped inside of you with nowhere to go.

“Yes. I’m in love… with life.” Carlos professes, looking around with gratitude, raising his arms up as if to give thanks to the beautiful scenery around you.

Ana scoffs. “That’s not my question! I asked are you in love. As in, with someone. Perhaps even someone next to you.” She speaks the last part quickly, feigning innocence as she looks between you.

“Please, Carlos and I are just friends.” You brush off her words, knowing how she can be sometimes when she believes in something. Relentless; just like Carlos is. A trait you can’t help but admire in them both. Lando laughs in disbelief, making kissing sounds to contradict you. Carlos’ smile falters, eyebrows scrunching together ever so slightly. It’s impossible to tell if he’s hurt at your dismissal of only seeing him as a friend, or just annoyed at the antics that are a nuisance to what was supposed to be a peaceful evening.

“We talk all the time, Anita. I think you already know the answer.”

Ana shrugs. “It’s the rules, Carlos. You picked truth, so you have to answer.”

“Yeah! Spill the beans, Carlos.” Lando encourages. “And don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

“Easy, cabrón.” He warns, glancing between his best friend and his impatient sister as they wait for him to answer. Finally, his gaze lands on you, quietly sitting beside him through all of their quips. He’d be lying if he said it doesn’t hurt to know you don’t hold him in a higher regard than friendship entails. Yet the weight pulling at his heartstrings isn’t one he feels the need to bear anymore. You may never know the full truth, but that’s just another thing Carlos feels the need to let go of. “The answer is yes. I am in love.”

While the summer weather is nothing but serene, the storm inside of you is the complete opposite. You feel like throwing up. Leave it to Lando to suggest a fun, light-hearted game to stir things up. You paste on a smile, trying with everything you have to hold Carlos’ gaze and make your ‘just friends’ statement feel like reality. The emotion glossing over your eyes betrays you. “That’s great, Carlos. I’m happy for you.”

He can’t shake the unsettling feeling that’s consuming him. Whether it’s the guilt of omitting a very important detail to that answer or the fact that you don’t seem disturbed at the thought of him with someone else. Ana and Lando share an incredulous look, unable to understand how two people can be so oblivious to one another while also being unable to look away from them. “So that’s it?” Lando mumbles, but his quiet tone isn’t much competition for the silence that’s fallen over the group.

Carlos pretends that he can’t feel the disappointment in the air, turning his attention to his friend and choosing to carry on with the game. “Lando, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Lando says cooly like it’s obvious.

“Okay.” Carlos ponders, thinking carefully as to how he’s gonna get his payback. The awkward tension between you could’ve been avoided entirely had Lando not mentioned this stupid game at all. “I dare you to… jump into the water with all your clothes on.”

“So the opposite of skinny dipping? But we have no towels!”

“Exactly.” Carlos raises his eyebrows pointedly. He can’t think of a better punishment than to make Lando sit here shivering until he can find comfort under a scalding hot shower. “Unless you are too scared…”

“Never too scared.” Lando argues, already making a mold in the sand for his drink to sit while he’s gone. “I’ll do it, on one condition. Y/n comes with me.”

“No.” Carlos answers for you, almost immediately. “That’s not in the rules, remember?”

“Come on, live a little.” Lando looks between the two of you, hoping he can make a convincing argument. If he doesn’t liven up the mood now, he’ll consider this game a wash. “How about this, if you join me, you don’t have to answer any questions or do any dares. You’ll have immunity.”

You raise your eyebrows at his idea, intrigued. You’d do almost anything to distract yourself from what just happened with Carlos. “How can I say no to that?”

“You can’t.”

“You can.” Carlos objects, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. “And you will. Come on Y/n, you could get sick. It’s getting chilly out.”

Lando scoffs at his hypocrisy. “Oh, so now you’re concerned? Because who cares if I get sick, right?”

You look between the two men, and then to Ana, who shrugs undecidedly as if to say it’s up to you. Carlos’ eyes are pleading, hoping to get through to you before you do something you might regret. Then again, these are the same eyes that looked into yours minutes ago and told you he’s in love with someone else. You don’t need to listen to his concerns, you don’t owe that to him. Drinking what’s left in your bottle, you accept Lando’s hand to help you up before making a run for it towards the water.

The two of you disappear under what’s now the nighttime sky, the moonlight shining bright enough to lead the way. It isn’t until you’re just about there, that one wrong step onto a bottle hiding in the sand halts your movements, causing a sharp cry to escape your throat as a sharper cut of glass slices into your foot. Lando barely makes it to the water when he realizes you’re no longer beside him, instantly turning around to see that you’re bleeding. “Oh fuck, are you alright?” He places a hand on your shoulder, trying to examine the injury but comfort you the best way he can.

A string of curses fall from your lips, language more characteristic of a sailor than your normal self. “What does it look like? Holy shit, it hurts!”

“Carlos!” Lando calls out, unable to peel his eyes away from your foot.

Both Carlos and Ana were already watching the scene unfold, and Carlos wasted no time in rushing to your side within seconds, Ana following closely behind from down the beach. “Y/n? What happened?”

“I stepped on this– fuck– that bottle.” You nod over to the bottle, a couple feet away from you. Carlos’ heartbeat quickens at the sight of you, clearly distressed and in pain, but knows he can’t afford a freezing moment of panic. He removes the thin linen shirt he’s wearing to wrap around your foot and compress it, in hopes the bleeding will stop.

Lando takes a step back when you remove your hands from where they clutched your injury, trying to catch his breath as he feels lightheaded at the sight, glass piercing your skin deeply. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Carlos and Ana pay him no mind, as Ana rests a hand on your knee soothingly while Carlos goes to wrap up your foot with his shirt. But you are just as quick to stop him. “It hurts, Carlos.”

“I know, I know, but we have to stop the bleeding. This cut is deep.”

“Removing the glass will only make it worse.” Ana falters, knowingly it’s not what you want to hear. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“You’re probably right, I think I need stitches.”

“We will get you there.” Carlos assures. “Just breathe with me, can you do that?”

You nod, fighting the pull of unconsciousness as your eyelids flutter shut. Clearly Lando has to do the same, feeling dizzy at the sight. He wanders over to where the bottle lay broken in the sand, a wave of guilt washing over him when he realizes the label reads Estrella Galicia. Carlos’ favorite beer, the same one they happened to have an abundance of in the cooler today. A bottle they must’ve dropped by accident when making their way up the beach.

Ana tells you that she’s going up to the house to find Carlos’ keys to drive you all to the emergency room. Lando finishes picking up the pieces of the broken bottle, heading inside to dispose of them. It’s just you and Carlos now. Not that you bothered to care who you were alone with at this moment, but you feel safe.

You notice your heavy breathing has slowed down in tune with his as he gently secures the fabric around your foot. “You will be okay Y/n, I promise.” Considering how out of it you are, you nearly miss the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead chastely. Before you can wonder how the hell you would be walking up the beach, Carlos is effortlessly lifting you off the ground and carrying you in his arms. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

—

“Don’t do that.” Ana nudges her brother’s shoulder, trying to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Do what?”

“Get in your head like you do. She’s gonna be fine.”

“She’s right.” Lando chimes in. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it’s your fault.” Carlos snaps back at him.

“What did I do?”

“I told you not to take her with you. It wasn’t a good idea and clearly I was right.”

Lando rolls his eyes. “She wanted to. And if you wanna talk about fault, it was an Estrella Galicia she stepped on. That bottle fell out of our cooler.”

Carlos felt that tightening feeling in his chest again, a mix of guilt and shame brewing into something far more intoxicating than what he’s had to drink tonight. “I would never be so careless.”

“None of us would be. It was an accident, that’s the point. It’s not like she blames any of us for what happened.”

“She might.”

“Carlos, stop it.” Ana interjects, watching him with concern as he leans forward, hands clasped together while his mind is in deep thought. “She would probably slap both of you if she heard what you’re saying right now.” Ana proceeds to retrieve some money from the bag she hurriedly grabbed before leaving for the hospital, asking Carlos to get some chips from the vending machine. There wasn’t much she could do about the bickering between him and Lando except try to diffuse it by separating them. She knows how stubborn her brother can be and knows that his attitude won’t go anywhere until he sees you.

Carlos certainly doesn’t feel like himself, sluggishly moving down the hall, unable to break his train of thought. The fact that you got hurt on his watch, still unaware of how he feels about you has his heartstrings tangled in knots. The most unbelievable part being that despite the intensity of his Formula 1 career, he’s never felt as on edge as he does right now. It’s both exciting and scary that you’ve seemed to wedge yourself a little closer to his heart than the sport that’s defined his life.

When he sees you with Ana or Lando, he envies them. He envies the authenticity that defines your friendships with them, the feeling of being able to say what’s on your mind without a care, knowing they’ll never lose you. He wonders what that’s like, he craves to have that with you. He struggles to remember when his feelings began to get in the way of that. Now he has no choice but to face it, feeling further away from you than he ever has. The longer this goes on, that distance will only worsen until you don’t know each other at all. A part of him wants to do everything in his power to stop that; another part tells him that he’s powerless when it comes to you.

His head hangs low, finding it easy to get lost in the glow of the vending machine. Behind him in line, the sound of a kid deliberately tapping his foot snaps him out of his trance, prompting him to hurry up with the chips. Heading back towards the waiting room, he notices Ana and Lando speaking to a doctor. By the looks of it, they’re hanging on her every word, urging him to pick up his pace so he doesn’t miss any updates on you.

—

The hospital room is cold and uninviting. Quite the opposite of an ideal place to spend your summer vacation. You lay there alone for what feels like hours, wishing nothing more than to have Carlos at your bedside. You know he’s here, and so are your friends, but it’s not the same. The heart monitor beeps routinely every couple seconds, and your blood pressure cuff squeezes your arm every fifteen minutes, making it impossible to doze off even if you wanted to. The pain in your foot is better, though not gone completely, after having the glass removed by a doctor and your wound properly stitched up. Given how late it was, they’d keep you until the morning, needing to monitor the wound for a possible infection.

When you ask for your friends in the waiting room, your nurse looks like she’s seen a ghost at the mention of Carlos Sainz. Once you had reassured her that you had no head injury whatsoever, she reluctantly left to go find your description of him. ‘Tall, dark and handsome. You’ll see him.’

And so taking a deep breath, Carlos is standing in front of your room, tapping his knuckles gently to the wooden door. “Knock, knock.”

You smile instinctively at the sound of his voice, eager to see someone familiar in what has been a lonely couple of hours. “Come in.”

He opens the door immediately before laying eyes on you sitting up in the hospital bed, hurt and exhausted from the day’s events. He swallows down the guilt that creeps up his throat, hoping that it doesn’t show. He doesn’t deserve to throw a pity party right now when you're the one that’s in pain. His words don’t get that memo as he laments. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, feeling helpless. “Maybe if I went too, it would’ve been me instead.”

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness, patting the foot of your bed so he will sit down. “I won’t let you think about the what if’s, Carlos, you need your feet to drive remember? Though knowing your resilience, you’d probably come back and win, glass in your foot be damned. They don’t call you the Smooth Operator for nothing.”

His heart warms at how you know just what to say to lift his spirits. “I could win only if you’re there to cheer me on.”

“Just say the word and I will be. I wouldn’t fly around the world on a moment’s notice for just anyone, you know.”

“I don’t want ‘just anyone’. Just you.” Your smile beams, and all of a sudden you feel the need to be close to him, holding a hand out to him that he instantly takes in his own. “Can I say something? And can you promise you won’t get mad at me for it?”

“Tonight can’t get much worse, can it?”

He faintly smiles at your quip, but it also worries him that your relationship may always be limited to just that, laughter and clever jokes. He needs you to know that he’s serious. And it wouldn’t be so bad to hear that in return from you either, just this once. “I love you.”

You freeze, probably looking like a deer in headlights. There must be some truth to the theory that people tend to be more honest at night. The exhaustion from the day wears on the brain while the world falls asleep, leaving the two of you to face the lingering vulnerability intertwining itself deeper into your friendship. You’d been denying it for as long as you can remember. A part of you wonders if he’s just tired of fighting it, if he’s just giving in to what everyone expects to happen between you. Even though Carlos is a terrible liar, you can’t shake the doubt that tells you his admission isn’t what it seems.

“Don’t say that. You don’t need to say that just because you feel bad. I understand.”

“It’s not about that, Y/n. I’m telling you how I feel– no, how I’ve felt– for a long time now, and I refuse to hide it from you anymore.”

“And how can you say that when a few hours ago you said you were in love with somebody else? Does that ring a bell to you?”

The realization hits Carlos, now he can understand why you’re so skeptical. “I never said I was in love with somebody else, it’s you! I was talking about you. When I said that I am in love, I meant to say that I was in love with you.” He sighs, finally feeling the weight being lifted off his chest.

The feeling that comes over you is paralyzing, unable to breathe a word in his direction. Those damn eyes that he’s giving you only complicate things. As badly as you want to express your love for him in return, you can’t. Not when the past several months, if not years, of your life have revolved around falling in love with Carlos and not being able to stop. Not being able to save yourself from the inevitable rejection that would break your foolish heart in two. Each day, the feeling buries itself deeper but comes alive in bursts. If your body didn’t remind you of it with a quickened heartbeat and a fuzzy feeling when he’s near, you wouldn’t know the difference between your ‘best friend’ Carlos and the confused one sitting at the foot of your hospital bed.

“Y/n, please. Say something. Tell me to get out or tell me you love me too.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. I know there’s something behind your eyes. There’s something you’re hiding from me, I can feel it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Y/n, you forget that I know you.” He states obviously. “We’ve been best friends for years now, so the question is how could I not?”

“Is that not enough for you?”

“Having you is more than enough. But you have to understand that I can’t go on like this. I want to love you and never hide it. For as long as you let me.” His eyes bare into yours, nearly feeling claustrophobic as he takes both of your hands in his. “Please just talk to me.”

“I don’t know, Carlos. I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out as a mumble instead of the vibrato you wished to have right about now. Tears gloss over your eyes, but you don’t welcome them. The downturn of his frown and the emptiness that’s seeping into his expression claws at your chest. “We shouldn’t talk about this now.” He opens his mouth to say something, be it out of apology or anger, you’ll never know.

Three resounding knocks to your hospital room door cut through the tension like a knife. “Come in!”

It’s Lando and Ana, the soft smiles on their faces falling as they look between you and Carlos, sensing that something isn’t right. “Are we interrupting? We thought we’d check on you before they kick us out for the night.”

“Not at all.” You put on a smile for them in reassurance, yet fooling no one. The suspense in the air is palpable enough to leave all of you feeling awkward to say the least. It’s enough to make Carlos split the distance between his best friend and sister, leaving the room without a word.

Carlos walks as fast as his feet will take him, eventually landing on the familiar chair in the waiting room he sat in when he arrived. For the first time tonight, his mind isn’t racing and anxiety isn’t coursing through his veins. He is defeated, worse than he’s ever been before. Be it a race-ending issue with the car or losing out on his Ferrari seat, those are losses that he can at least come back from. This one’s a dead end.

“Want some? You look like you could use a snack.”

His attention swivels to a boy in the seat nearby, who he now recognizes from the vending machine earlier, snacking away on his bag of Ruffles. Carlos shakes his head, but still smiles softly at the consideration. “No thank you, not hungry.”

“Do you like chips?”

“I prefer cookies.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“And why’s that?”

“I dunno, you’re Carlos Sainz. Chili. I thought you’d go for anything salty or spicy. I guess you really do learn something new everyday.”

Carlos sighs, remembering his current troubles. His eyes flicker over to the hallway containing your room, expecting to see a familiar face at some point. “Tell me about it.”

The boy, whose backpack is embroidered with the name ‘Samuel’, gives Carlos a puzzled look. “What did you learn today?”

The question leaves him clueless as to how he can answer, without trauma dumping onto Samuel who is none the wiser to the conundrum he’s in. He clears his throat before answering, eyeing the vending machine as an analogy comes to his mind. “I love chocolate chip cookies, but they don’t love me back. My job doesn’t allow me to have them because they are too sweet for me. I try to stay away from the cookies, but I can’t. I wish I could be selfish and have them all to myself, but it’s just impossible. I can’t win.”

“Maybe try a different kind? Something healthier for you then.”

“Good idea, but that would never work. I’ll always love the chocolate chip cookie. Nothing else compares to her.”

“Are you talking about a girl?”

“No, no.” Carlos tries to cover, heat rising to his cheeks. “Still talking about the cookies.”

“You could always try baking your own.” He suggests. “When my mamá bakes cookies, they’re better than anything else because she makes them with love.”

Carlos nods along, and thanks Samuel for his words of advice. He’s off in his own world right now, desperate enough for guidance that he’s willing to imagine the ridiculous analogy between chocolate chip cookies and his relationship with you.

Minutes turn into hours, and Carlos finds himself in your room once again, sitting in a chair near your bedside. He reassured Ana and Lando earlier to go home as he insisted on staying with you overnight. Visiting hours were far from over, but a small bribe for your nurse was all it took for an exception to be made for Carlos Sainz.

The sun is up before you know it, but that’s not what shocks you. It’s the man slumped over in the chair overcome with fatigue. You wish it was all a dream. That stupid game of truth or dare, stepping on the glass bottle, pushing Carlos away when in hindsight, you should’ve surrendered too. You should’ve given in the same way he did, it surely would’ve made for a less awkward ride home. It’s not his words from last night that cloud the space in your mind, it’s your own. Seeing him now, he looks tranquil. Like the weight of the world can’t touch him when he’s already said his peace. You’ll continue longing to feel the same, knowing that your chance might’ve just come and gone.

—

AZERBAIJAN GRAND PRIX 2024

“Care to tell me why you’re really here?”

A puzzled raise of your eyebrows tells Lando everything he needs to know before you can even say it. “I’m sorry, I can’t support McLaren now? One of my best friends happens to drive for them.”

“Another happens to drive for their rival, too.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing personal. Orange looks better on me.”

“Carlos would beg to differ.”

“Will you stop that? It isn’t about him.”

“Fine. But it’s not not about him, admit that.” He gives you a knowing look, one that’s skeptical of how much you’ve been avoiding Carlos lately, ever since the vacation you all took together. What was once a lively group chat between you three now consists of the occasional meme or reaction photo. “Come on, something happened between you two. Admit it.”

You sigh, eyes tearing away from him as you feel pressure under his interrogation. “Nothing happened. It’s probably more about what didn’t happen.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Like your bestie hasn’t already filled you in.”

Lando shrugs, never giving away too much. “There’s two sides to every story.”

“He just misspoke. He told me he loved me after I injured my foot over the summer. I brushed him off, and we’re pretending like it never happened.” Lando’s eyes are wide and he doesn’t realize his jaw is hanging open until you press two fingers under his chin. “And that includes you. Deal? Not a word about this to anyone.”

“Damn, that’s even worse than I thought! You’re avoiding him because he loves you?”

“He doesn’t love me, doofus. He felt guilty because I stepped on a bottle that one of you probably dropped.” Three sharp pokes to the Brit’s chest emphasize your point, the narrative you’ve spent months now convincing yourself is true. “It’s just been a little tense, we haven’t really been the same since then. He thinks I’m being cold about the whole thing.”

“Are you?”

“No! I just know him better than he knows himself and he refuses to admit it. He’s stubborn, as you know, and he won’t let me forget it. He’s probably messing with my head until I cave in.”

“Cave in to what? Admitting you love him too?”

You gulp, brain scattering while you feel for some reason, like you’re being found out. “Where would you get that idea?”

“You haven’t denied it. Isn’t that all he wants anyway? I’m sure if you told him you didn’t feel the same way, this would all be over. Which won’t happen because you do, in fact, love Carlos Sainz.”

You resist the urge to give Lando a good whack to any tender part of his body, by the way a McLaren team member accidentally eavesdrops on your conversation in passing, obviously trying to look away before you notice. “Don’t use his full name.” You warn in a hushed whisper. “Word travels fast around here, you know.”

“Please don’t injure me before the race. I’m just saying, would it hurt to speak to him for more than five minutes at a time?”

“He’ll get over it. Hell, he might already be over it. I just think a little more space wouldn’t hurt either of us right now.”

“Well, you know what they say about space.” Lando gives you a knowing look, before dramatically breaking out into his best Nick Jonas impersonation. “Space is just a word made up by someone who’s afraid to get close.”

“Very nice, Lando.”

“Just don’t look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything for him. You must think I’m some kind of idiot.”

“It’s better for our friendship this way, okay? Imagine had I said it back, what kind of damage that would do to all of us when it goes to shit. It would never work between us, and I refuse to set us up for failure. I’d rather keep things the same. And he would too, he just doesn’t know it yet. This year hasn’t been the easiest for him, you know? He’s just trying to cling on to what’s familiar. He might think that he loves me, but it’s a phase. In a year from now, he’ll be in a new team, a new era of his life and career, and we won’t even remember this.”

“Really? Because I think, if he had it his way, he’d be with you forever.”

“And I feel terrible about pushing him away, but it’s for the best, okay? You’ll see.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Lando nods slowly but unconvincingly, taking some steps backwards and away from you, leaving to do the pre-race preparations he should probably be focused on instead.

—

“For the best?!” Carlos exclaims, his eyes wide and hinting a mix of disappointment, hurt, and frustration at the turn your friendship has taken.

“I know, I had the same look. It doesn’t even sound like her.”

“Each excuse I hear from her is more ridiculous than the last. I miss when I could just talk to her, you know? Without thinking about how she’s gonna push me away this time.”

“You should just tell her to stop inventing.” Lando giggles, biting his lip to keep from breaking out into full hysterical laughter in the middle of the driver’s parade.

Carlos shoots a warning glare to his friend. “It’s one thing if she didn’t feel anything for me, but she’s been avoiding me as if we haven’t been best friends for years now. I can’t figure it out.”

“Maybe she’s scared to lose you, have you ever thought of that? What would happen in case it doesn’t work out? I think she’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been, though. She knows me. I thought I knew her, too.”

“You do. I, for one, think you’re perfect for each other.” Lando tries to offer some consolation, but he knows that Carlos can’t and won’t settle for the silver lining in all of this.

“I used to think so too. But hey, she might be onto something. Maybe it is for the best.”

—

The race doesn’t disappoint, keeping in line with the chaotic patterns the 2024 season has had to offer. Nearing the end of the race, the pit wall, mechanics, and spectators alike can breathe a sigh of relief that the position of their driver won’t be threatened. Oscar leads by 10 seconds, making it a great weekend to be a guest of McLaren for the weekend. The garage bustles with excitement as the cars begin the last lap.

It was looking like a fight to the checkered flag between Checo and Carlos, closely rounding Turn 2 just behind Charles, racing wheel to wheel down the straight before the two cars clash, the Red Bull of Checo sending the Ferrari of Carlos into the concrete barrier at 300 kilometers per hour.

A wave of adrenaline strikes you instantly, audible gasps sounding through the garage at the brutal and unexpected impact. The same sight of the crash had to be on every monitor throughout the entire paddock, leaving everyone on the edge of their seat. Carlos being a beloved member in the McLaren family certainly intensified things, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t tear their eyes away from the screen. A flash of heat burns through you as you see Checo seemingly confront Carlos and walk off, but your worries don’t dissipate until you see the man in red get out of his car, slowly but steadily.

—

It’s almost night by the time you arrive back at your hotel, Lando having stayed back in the paddock for team photos and celebrations of Oscar’s win. It’s a short walk back to the nearby hotel, and you could use the fresh air to help clear your mind anyway. Mindlessly, you open your messages with Carlos. Typing, then erasing, then typing again.

‘Glad you’re okay.’ No, too short.

‘Are you okay? Sorry about your race.’ No, too impersonal.

‘I love you too. I should’ve said it sooner.’ No, too risky. Too permanent. You’re not ready for what comes next. Who knows if he even wants to talk to you, especially about this. Don’t be selfish.

Your earlier conversation with Lando creeps up on you, giving you more to worry about than you had previously considered. Could it be guilt or pure heartache, you’re not sure. All that is certain is you can’t carry on with your relationship like this either. It only took you a few months and a crash to fuel you with the same passion he felt for you over the summer, when he confessed. Facing the truth is scary, but you won’t be able to forgive yourself if you let him go. You can’t live with knowing that he might go so far that he never comes back.

The elevator door is open, your thoughts so entrancing that you don’t bother to look up. Until that signature red polo catches your eye, and they trail upwards to meet the brown ones you remember so well, the same ones you’ve been waiting to see again.

“Hi.” He breathes, almost in disbelief. From the mental and physical wear of today, Carlos can’t be more relieved to see your face, no matter what has gone on between you. Pure surprise sets in when you, after taking a few pauses to get a good look at him, engulf him into your arms with a passion. He winces slightly at the soreness that’s sinking into his muscles, but ultimately relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, trying to untangle yourself from his hold, to which he only pulls you closer.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“It’s not just about that, Carlos. I haven’t been a good friend to you lately and you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“No.”

“I should be the one apologizing.”

“For what?”

“I pushed you away when I told you how I feel. But you need to know that I’m not sorry I said it. I’m not taking it back.”

“Why not?”

He scoffs. “This again? Why won’t I take it back? Because it’s the truth! I love you! I wish you could see it. I wish you could feel how badly I’ve been wanting to say it and hear it back from you. I’m man enough to understand if you don’t feel the same way, but you won’t even give me a conversation. You refuse to talk to me and I don’t know whether to take that as rejection or an admission. Because if you really didn’t believe a thing I said that night, we wouldn’t be here. Things would’ve stayed the same.” You stay silent, trying to process each of his words and their meanings, a mistake you’ve made one too many times. “Just talk to me, please.” His voice cracks slightly in his last word, and his plea brings tears to your eyes. “Not what you think I need to hear. Tell me what you’ve been holding inside.”

This is exactly what scares you about Carlos. His ability to understand your innermost thoughts without a word. His skepticism is more than enough to rattle you. Having him as a best friend is one thing, but leaving your heart to be broken in his hands is another. “I just don’t want things to change, Carlos. At the end of the day, we still have our own lives, our own goals and ambitions. It doesn’t matter how I feel when there’s plenty standing in the way of it.”

“Like hell it doesn’t matter. I’ve spent every waking moment wondering how all of those things could be ours, together. I fell in love with you and you’re punishing me for it, I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Does it scare you? Is that why you want to sabotage our relationship before it has a chance? You need to understand that I didn’t tell you because I felt guilty you got hurt. I told you because I refuse to look you in the eyes and lie anymore than I already have.”

“I know.” You sigh, a tear slipping away from you. “I know that.”

“Then why are you only admitting this to me now? We’ve been wasting time dancing around this long enough.”

“I know how you feel because I feel it, too. Watching your car slam into the wall like that… I didn’t want another second to go by without you knowing the truth. I don’t want to feel guilty anymore about avoiding you, about lying to you, about any of it.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I love you too, Carlos. It should’ve been the first thing out of my mouth when you told me but I just panicked. All I could picture was how this ends a million different ways and each of them were more heartbreaking than the last. But the longer I waited, I just thought it would be too late.”

“It’s never too late, Y/n.” Carlos whispers, brown eyes glossing over as they admire yours. Honestly, unabashedly, and lovingly, for the first time in a while. “I’m still here, aren’t I? After all this time.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not, remember? Some things are worth waiting for.” He holds your face in his hands, brushing his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your fallen tear. “You are worth every second.”

You don’t hold back any longer, closing the gap and kissing him with all that you have. All of the emotions that for too long, had nowhere to go, have now found their home. Your hands tangle in his hair, and the hum of approval he gives you is delicious. If it were at all possible, you feel as close to him as you’ve ever felt, and him to you. Kissing him, feeling your love be reciprocated calms your head and sends your heart ablaze. You’d reckon the wall that stood between you, was always ready to be knocked over with the slightest gust of wind, had you not spent so much time trying to hold it up. Letting go was your best decision to date, the feeling of his lips on yours just confirms that.

It isn’t until the sound of the elevator dings that you pull away, realizing neither of you had pressed a single button upon entry. To your surprise it’s Lando, his grin smug like he’d just pulled off some kind of heist. You and Carlos instinctively try to put an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you, only this time, nobody would believe there’s anything platonic about you two. By the looks of Carlos’ tousled hair and the smudges of your once perfect lip gloss, Lando needs no explanation from either of you.

“Don’t worry, you can carry on.” Lando laughs, reaching inside and pressing the ‘Close Doors’ button. “I’ll take the stairs.”

💌: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

[coraniaid]

Anyway, I do think you can preserve almost all of the core of Faith's arc in Season 3 and still present Giles in a much more favorable light than canon with only a very few minor tweaks.

At some point, in one of the early season episodes that Faith doesn't otherwise appear in -- Band Candy, say -- in a scene featuring just Buffy and Giles together, have Buffy comment on Faith's absence, wonder out loud if being alone in her motel room is good for her, and have Giles say something to the effect of "Perhaps you're right to be concerned, but we must respect Faith's wishes. In fact I offered to arrange for more salubrious lodgings when it became clear she would be staying with us for a while, but she assured me she was quite all right where she is." Because, look, of course if an older man she didn't really know offered to set Faith up with a nicer place to stay for free she was going to say no. Of course that doesn't mean she's actually happy living in a motel in the bad part of town, and of course she's still impressed when the Mayor gets her an apartment and clearly doesn't want anything from her in return (or, at least, he's only looking for wholesome family-friendly murder and torture and treason, not what she'd expect him to want). But at least this way we can point to evidence Giles actually tried to do the right thing. The thing that he explicitly volunteered to do.

In Helpless, when Buffy complains about Faith being "off on one of her unannounced walkabouts", don't have Giles -- who at this very moment is not interested in training Buffy but instead setting her up for the events of Cruciamentum -- remark snidely that "Faith is not interested in proper training", but instead explicitly link back to the events of Revelations. Have him remind Buffy that Faith took Mrs Post's betrayal very badly and say that he's deliberately letting her take a break from training for a bit because he thinks it will give her some time to recover emotionally. And, again, Giles wouldn't be right to think this -- Faith would be better off if she was spending time with other people -- but at least we'd get less of an impression that, after Post arrived, Giles decided he was done being Faith's temporary replacement Watcher and that he didn't really care what happened to her afterwards (even after Post was exposed as a fraud).

The key things you need to have happen in Consequences are (a) Faith lies to Giles and says Buffy killed Finch; (b) Giles talks to Buffy privately and they both acknowledge that actually Faith killed Finch; (c) Wesley overhears this conversation and calls in the Council to take Faith back to England. You don't actually need Giles to suggest he was only pretending to be on Faith's side to humor her; you don't need him to be so skeptical when Buffy talks about helping Faith. You could instead have Giles remind Buffy that he himself killed somebody by accident when he was not much older than Faith, and have him say that he pretended to believe her simply because -- knowing what she had to be going through -- he thought it would be better to humor her than provoke a confrontation. Rather than just have him dismiss her as "unstable" and "unwilling to accept responsibility", make the parallels with Giles's own backstory explicit. "In Faith's shoes, I would be -- I was -- unstable. Unpredictable. I needed time to accept responsibility." When Buffy suggests she could talk to her, rather than just sigh and look skeptical, Giles could apolgetically reference his own role in the Cruciamentum a few episodes earlier, and use that as a reason why Faith might not be willing to trust him yet. Instead of just ... nobody suggesting Giles talk to her, even when agreeing that perhaps somebody other than Buffy should.

And really, none of what Buffy and Giles plan at this point really even matters, because all we need to happen next is for Xander to admit that he slept with Faith and that he assumes this means they have "a connection", Buffy and Willow to react to that, and then for Xander to decide to go talk to her alone to prove his point. And then we proceed as before to Faith attacking him, Angel coming to the rescue, and then the rest of the episode as normal (including with Faith going off to tell the Mayor she heard he had a job opening).

In fact arguably I think this version of events actually works better, because after Consequences (and before the reveal in Enemies) the show actually does proceed on the basis that Giles is willing to help Faith and supervize her post-manslaughter evaluation and recovery. It has to, because if he insists she's a lost cause and can't be trusted from the beginning there's no Enemies and no chance for her to betray Buffy and the gang. So there wasn't really any actual story-driven need for Giles to seem so reluctant about trying to help Faith in the first place, was there?

I mean, in the actual show I think nobody knew at the time what Faith's arc was going to be, and that era of the show wasn't quite as dedicated to continuity as it would be later and didn't like throwing in so many references to past episodes. And the show never actually does take Giles's role in the Cruciamentum seriously after Helpless, or have Giles mention Randall's death after season 2 (Ted is the last time he's mentioned, right?). But in hindsight I think something like this -- even if it couldn't have happened -- would better balance the actual story that you want to tell about Faith with the goal of having Giles seem rather more admirable and sympathetic than his treatment of Faith ends up making him look.

[genderqueerdykes]

I'm half convinced that most people do not think about east asian people in their activism. Like at all. So being east Asian and trans* (and I say east Asian because I know that south-east Asian/south Asian people experience different things then I do) people (even those in our community) just don't think about us at all and it is very frusturating.

very true, i think a lot of people of color are completely left out. it's not right for anyone to be excluded for any reason. i do believe a lot of people are dealing with internalized racism & sinophobia. i think a lot of people are scared of certain Asian countries and as such don't really care about the feelings and lives of east Asian people of any kind. the way Americans view Asian people is horrible.

now that i think about it, i do agree. i very, VERY rarely see any kind of east asian representation at all. i think racist white people assume the politics aren't progressive enough for queer people to be accepted there, or something along those lines. which, we are seeing changes in real time in many asian countries and that's huge. i love finding out when queer rights take a huge step forward in other countries. but im also very interested in elarning about the specific struggles people in other parts of the world face

i'm USAmerican. i only know my experience. i'm mixed race, but i am not asian. i cannot and should not speak for you or anyone else, but what i can do is give you a platform to speak and spread your thoughts, and if you'd like to do so, feel free, because i also accept messages of other queer people telling their stories from their own perspective. i am always happy to hear from people in other parts of the world. i only know what it's like where i live. but i can help you shed light on what it's like where you live, and i hope that helps somewhat. you deserve to have your voice heard. you have rights too. you're a person, too

[biblically-accurate-dca]

KILL!!!!!!!!!

[la-galaxie-langblr]

what is going on w my brain

[cent-scratchnsniff]

[voxiiferous]

Vox shoots a look at James. "I'm surprised because of what that would mean for our lives," And all the differences that would have to exist. He made the switch between print and screen because of his engineering expertise, but she wouldn't have that-- the program hadn't even started to accept women until after his death. The downhill from the war would have been different too-- that was Arlene Francis, and only a few years later. "I-- we weren't exactly living in a time free from sexism," And that's just if she's a female version of him, and not in fact just a counterpart who happens to also be a V-themed tv demon in a show of spectacular coincidence.

But that's a good question, and it brings him back to the topic at hand. He holds his hands up in surrender. He can't exactly... deny the accusation with the text logs on his phone, but still, he's not guilty of the other him's actions! "The rumour mill can be a vicious thing, but I'm going to assume that your Abelie of Lust is our Abe."

Which raises the question of how they met-- because Vox doubts it's the same way. "Wait-- if we're not engaged in your timeline, how'd I--Vi leave Val to get together with Abelie? Or are the Vees not a thing?"

"Interesting indeed." Maria comments with a nod.

"Come on man, you're making my dramatics seem /reasonable,/ here. At least you're not dead," James adds, knowing that Vox would understand what he meant. "What else is different about your world? Who runs the other rings?"

"Chandra runs Limbo, Abelie Lust--"

"I'm sorry, /who/ the fuck is Abelie?" That marks one other difference, and it doesn't spell anything good.

"A no good piece of shit that I avoid at all costs, and according to the rumor mill, Vi's," she gives Vox a look indicating that that's him she's referring to, "latest interest."

[theriverdalereviewer]

everyone jumping to team kamala we will never experience true freedom in this country

[theultracharmingladynoire]

something something about how the rings not just symbolised Yuuri and Victor's bond and was not just an omamori for them something something Victor was the first person Yuuri wanted to hold on to and share his dreams with and depend on after fighting for so long ALONE something something the rings symbolising this exact same thing something something about how Yuuri's arc still is wonderful even when he didn't win the gold because he finally learnt to actually depend on people, share his dreams and aims with them and not fight alone which is something he struggles with for the whole show