#i know it to be true in my heart that hes not a misogynist

[farfromhome87]

Message Received- Part 4/5

Previous parts here. Inspired by @mollywog I wish you would write a You've Got Mail inspired fic

***Peeta***

Peeta holds his breath as he waits for her reply. The three dots have sprung to life and then paused three times already, as if she is considering her words carefully. Peeta’s palms start to sweat. He’s not exactly sure why the stakes feel so high. So what if a stranger he’s been texting for a few weeks doesn’t want to see him? How many times has he been ghosted on dating apps? It’s hardly the first time he’s experienced rejection. But still, something feels different with her. Her works stick with him like those burrs that latch onto your clothing when you tramp through a thick patch of woods. You try to pull them off, but keep finding them weeks, months, years later, clinging to the heel of your wool sock, tucked in the fold of your jacket’s cuff. They poke at you until you pay attention.

The phone pings and Peeta rushes to unlock it.

Bullseye Hmm if I agree to meet… how do I know you’re not a serial killer?

Peeta puffs air out of his cheeks in relief. He grins

Peeta Mellark Isn’t that what you’re looking for? You begged me to kill you the other day…😉 Bullseye True… Peeta Mellark Plus, i think i’m the one more likely to be in danger Bullseye Oh really? Why’s that?

Peeta’s glad that he’s still outside alone in his car–he doesn’t need his nosy, wiseass roommate, Finnick, seeing the uncontrollably large smile cracking across his face. He pauses just a moment before tapping out a reply.

Peeta Mellark Well first of all, I know you’re in the market for targets. Which means you have access to a fairly antiquated but no less deadly weapon.  Guess my only hope is that practicing with those off-center targets has thrown off your aim And second of all, you were the one who texted me first. This could be a targeted hit! Bullseye WOW, you’ve really thought this through. Guess someone would if they had done something to merit a hit… What was it? Something classic? Bank heist?

Peeta snorts, his fingers flying across the screen.

Peeta Mellark Um excuse me. BORING Bullseye Ah, you slept with the mob boss’ only daughter then? Peeta Mellark A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell Bullseye Is that what you are? A gentleman?

Peeta bites the side of his thumb, considering. He supposes he fits the bill in the sense that he is considerate, respects boundaries, and is well-mannered, maybe to a fault… But the term “gentleman” also feels weirdly co-opted by misogynistic assholes who think women should fall at their feet if they hold open a door or pick up the tab at dinner. 

Peeta Mellark Actually, yes. But not in a condescending way Um I hope Bullseye Quick, which Jane Austen beau best represents you?

Peeta lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Then he scans his mental catalog of the author’s works. He’s read most of them, but Pride and Prejudice was the most recent. And the 2005 film adaptation is one of Annie’s favorites, so it's been background noise in the apartment lately. Her and Finnick typically rewind and replay sections several times when they get…distracted. 

Peeta Mellark Ugh putting me on the spot. It’s probably Mr. Bingley

Peeta winces a little as he types it–it’s not the sexiest answer– but if you can’t be honest with the perfect stranger in your phone, then when can you be? The fact is, historically, he’s been a Bingley. Optimistic. Affable. Quick to fall in love….

Bullseye Mmm golden retriever energy. I see… Peeta Mellark Am I putting you off the meeting? Bullseye Nah I can get behind it as long as you don't jump all over me and lick my face 😜 Peeta Mellark I make no promises. Depends on if you have treats in your pockets Actually, lately I've been a little sassy. It's kinda giving Elizabeth Bennet Bullseye Well that works out. I have major Darcy vibes 

Peeta smiles idiotically at the phone, his heart feeling lighter than it has in days. They agree on a time and place to meet before Bullseye says goodbye so that she can get on her twice weekly Facetime call with her sister, Prim. It’s odd, Peeta thinks, that he knows so many intimate details about her–her deepest fears, her hopes, her dreams, even the name of her beloved sister, but at the same time he doesn’t know her at all. It feels surreal that in less than one week this all will change. 

___ ___ ___

***Katniss***

“So you’re really going to meet this guy?” comes Prim’s skeptical voice over the phone. Virtual Prim scrunches up her nose. “You, Katniss Everdeen, queen of introversion, princess of canceled plans, lady of constant solitude?”

Katniss scoffs. “Hey, I meet plenty of people. I’ll have you know I was propositioned by every single member of a bachelor party last night at Abernathy’s.”

“Ew. You know that drunk meatheads sexually harassing you at your workplace is not what I mean.” She plops her head on her hand, the giant poof of her blonde bun bobbing on her head. “It’s just–this feels so out of character. How do you know he’s not some creep?”

“Prim, he told me he’s Mr. Bingley. He didn’t even hesitate. How many creeps do you know that have Mr. Bingley at the tips of their tongue?” Katniss says matter-of-factly, as if this settles things. She pulls a few items out of the fridge so that she can wipe down the bottom shelf. Katniss can’t sit still while she’s talking on the phone–it’s either anxious pacing that gets her a noise complaint from the crotchety old man downstairs, or cleaning.

Prim still looks unconvinced. “This isn’t because of Gale, is it?” she asks quietly.

At this, Katniss lets out a snort. She swipes her cleaning rag over the white plastic surface and then replaces the contents of the shelf, wondering vaguely how she has ended up with three half-eaten jars of pickles. “Definitely not. Prim, I know Gale and I dragged things out, but that relationship was over months before it was official. We’ve been over this. There’s no one I’d rather bag a buck with, but life isn’t a hunting trip. Just because you grow up skinning rabbits with someone doesn’t mean you’re compatible romantic partners.”

The corner of Prim’s lip lifts. She looks relieved. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Anyway, this isn’t serious.” Katniss continues. “And I don’t see how it's any creepier than a Tinder date. And… I dunno, he’s nice. And I could use a friend right now.”

Prim’s face softens. “I wish I could be there. Especially with everything going on with the woods.”

“I know little duck,” says Katniss, pausing her frenetic cleaning to look her sister in the eye. Prim looks so grown up in her Panem U hoodie over a pair of scrubs, her modest apartment in the background, the brown men’s loafers of her live-in boyfriend visible by the door. She’s doing her residency at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country and is well on her way to becoming–in Katniss’ opinion–the best pediatrician Panem has ever seen. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. I’m so proud of you. You know that, right?”

Prim gives her a long-suffering look reminiscent of her teenage years. “No, Katniss. Not once have you told me this. Not once. ONCE!”

Katniss barks out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Look, will you just take Johanna with you or something? She can wait outside in case things go south.”

***

Johanna is entirely too gleeful the next day when Katniss broaches the subject during their lunch break. Her angular face splits into a grin so saucy they could probably serve it at the Olive Garden. The fact that Johanna is this excited sends alarm bells off in the back of her mind and Katniss immediately tries to backpedal.

“Maybe this is a bad idea–”

“This is a GREAT idea,” cries Johanna, actually rubbing her hands together in anticipation of Katniss’ inevitable mortification. Johanna puts a bracing hand on her shoulder and peers down at her through a curtain of purple tinged hair. “Plus it’ll take your mind off the hot nerd from the Conservation Department, since you seem so determined to hate him. Or on second thought, maybe it will be so terrible that it’ll drive you straight into his arms. Either way, I’m seated.”

Katniss groans, feeling her cheeks flush without her permission. “I do NOT want to think about Peeta Mellark right now.”

It’s true, she doesn’t want to think about him, especially not in the same sentence as 007. For some reason it feels weird, like the two of them can’t coexist in the same reality, like they are on separate planes in some metaverse. When Katniss tries to examine this feeling, she comes up empty. Honestly, feeling her feelings has never been her forte. At least not since her dad died and Katniss' mom sank into a deep depression that held her captive somewhere between life and her husband's grave. So that's why it's odd, these prickles of emotion, the heat that rises in her cheeks and pools in her core when she thinks of Peeta Mellark, her nemesis. And likewise, the twinge of guilt, as if she's betraying the man in her phone. The one who seems to see her soul. She just needs to meet him already, it feels like it's the only way to quell this confusing storm raging inside her.

***

Katniss lingers outside the agreed upon spot, a cozy wine bar in the regional capitol, suitably far enough from her home town that if 007 turns out to be a catfishing weirdo, she can more easily block his number and fade into obscurity. She smooths down her forest green sweater that Prim says accents her curves, and twists the end of her braid with restless fingers. She almost left her hair down flowing around her shoulders, but it seemed like trying too hard, especially since she had already done something out of the ordinary by swiping mascara on her short eyelashes. She had always wished they were long and luscious like her father's in the old photo hung over the mantle at home. And then an intrusive thought pokes her like a pesky stinging nettle–Peeta Mellark has long lashes, too. She accidentally noticed them the other day at the Hob after she chucked a cheese bun at him. Peeta had blinked those lashes in surprise and she wondered how they didn't get tangled up. Katniss rubs her temples in frustration and puffs out a breath of air. Stop thinking about him! She reminds herself.

Johanna clears her throat from her hiding spot in the alley where she has a good view of the interior through a window if she stands on a milk crate. She jerks her head toward the door and makes a “what are you waiting for” gesture with her hand. 

Katniss takes a deep breath and pushes open the heavy oak door. The sound of clinking glasses and conversation fill her ears. The place is nice, but not ostentatious. She's not surprised 007 has good taste. It's also quiet thanks to the plush cushions on the furniture and the intimate set up of the tables, nestled into alcoves, between lush potted plants. Her heart buoys thinking he clearly remembered that she gets overstimulated in a crowd. Katniss selects a small booth in full view of the window into the alley. A sweet-smelling candle is flickering on the tabletop and there is a painting of a meadow full of wildflowers on the wall. She can't stop staring at it, marveling at the way she can almost feel the wind rustling through the swaying grass and the sun on her face. Longing bubbles and fizzes in her chest, longing for her father, longing for the girl she used to be by his side in their meadow. 

Katniss shakes herself from the vivid memories, pulls out her worn copy of The Hobbit and a single dandelion plucked from the lawn outside Abernathy's, and places them prominently on the table. She smiles a secret smile feeling the candy bar in her jeans pocket, a subtle nod to their golden retriever banter. He'll surely find it hilarious. And maybe, thinks Katniss with a shiver, maybe she won't mind if he does bound into her personal space. She's surprised that the thought thrills rather than terrifies her. 

Then Katniss waits. She waits. And waits. And waits.

Every time she hears the faint tinkle of the bell above the door she perks up, adjusting the book and flower, hoping it's him. And each time it's not, her heart grows heavier.

— — —

***Peeta***

“Finnick, so help me god, if you ruin this for me I am going to tell everyone that you sleep in a silk bonnet!” Peeta grits out, casting a disparaging look at his best friend’s carefully styled bronze locks.

Finnick scoffs. “Go right ahead, I'm not ashamed of my beauty routine.” He examines his nails coyly, then gives Peeta a noogie. 

“Gah!” yelps Peeta, desperately smoothing down his hair. He actually put in effort today, used some goopy product that Rue recommended for curls. He glances nervously at the door, worried the scene Finnick is creating will draw attention. “I told you I don't need a chaperone.”

“Pfft,” tuts Finnick. “Not a chaperone, I'm your second. Y’know, like in case the “woman” you're sexting with is actually some burly catfisher and you have to duel him or something.”

“I'm not sexting with her!” Peeta protests, dropping his voice an octave on the sexting part. There's a little old lady waiting for the bus on the corner and she is giving them the hairy eyeball. “And unfortunately I left my dueling sword at home, so if you'll excuse me–”

Finnick grips Peeta’s shoulders before he can proceed, his expression sobering. “Ok, ok,” Finnick concedes. “But c'mon, man, you have to admit that you let yourself get hurt sometimes. You always dive in head first with that big ‘ol heart of yours.”

Peeta rakes a hand through his curls out of habit, wincing as his attempt at looking dapper is foiled. “Yeah, I know…but this one's different,” he says, rocking up on his toes, a nervous, hopeful current buzzing in his veins. “I can feel it.”

Finnick still looks skeptical, but he doesn't push it further. He's a dick sometimes, but at the end of the day, he's a great friend. “Ok, Peet. But at least let me take a look first.”

Finnick ambles over to the open door through which a welcoming amber light spills onto the darkening sidewalk, and peers inside.

“She’ll have a book with her,” mutters Peeta, wiping his sweaty palms on his dark wash jeans. “And a flower. A dandelion.”

Finnick stares for so long, and with such a curious expression on his face, that Peeta wonders if it actually is someone duel-worthy.  Finally, Finnick gives a low whistle. “Well, she's pretty, that's for sure.”

Peeta waves the comment off impatiently. He already knows this. Her beauty transcends the bounds of his shitty, outdated iPhone. It’s wrapped up in her words, the funny little expressions she uses, the way she can be poetic one moment and then snarky the next. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt chemistry like this with anyone, except maybe, well…Peeta’s stomach somersaults as a flicker of silver and a sweep of a dark braid flash in his mind and then shimmer away like butter in a hot griddle. Peeta coughs as if he can physically dispel this ridiculous notion from his body.

“Harmless then,” he says, attempting to push Finnick aside. Enough is enough.

Finnick resists, still looking mystified. “Well, I wouldn’t say harmless,” he chuckles.

“Ok, this is getting ridiculous. I'm a grown ass man.” Peeta dodges Finnick with the practice of a former star wrestler and launches himself at the door. Then just as quickly, he is reeling back, his eyes wide as cinnamon rolls. “Is that–?”

“Katniss Everdeen,” they say together.

Both Peeta and Finnick are silent for a long time. The old woman on the corner gets onto the bus and it belches a cloud of putrid fumes as it drives off. Finally Peeta scrubs a hand over his jaw and breathes, “Well, shit…”

Emotions are raging inside Peeta at the speed of weather changes in the mountains. First shock, then gut wrenching disappointment, then disgust, then relief? And then, at last, he lands on anger. White hot anger. And somehow that feels like the only emotion he knows how to handle in the moment. When he is fired up like this there is no chance of anyone stopping him, so he easily sidesteps an alarmed Finnick and marches into the wine bar without so much as a glance behind.

She’s at his favorite booth, the one with the wildflower painting. Because of course she would choose that one. How infuriating to realize that your rival has a chilling psychic power over you, that she can see inside you, instinctually know your likes, your dislikes…Is this how she has been pushing all his buttons?! 

Peeta skids to a halt in front of the table and slides into the booth across from Katniss, mastering his rage and training his face into a smirk. He drops his eyes to the bulging pocket of her jeans. “Is that a Snickers in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” he says smugly.

Katniss gasps. The shock in those sharp silver eyes tells him this was not a targeted catfishing exercise. She has no idea that the man in her phone is him. But she quickly composes herself, folding her arms across her chest in a way that pushes up her small, pert breasts and instantly draws his traitor eyes. Peeta blushes, feeling like she has already scored a point against him.

“Ugh gross,” she bites out. “It's an inside joke. For my friend.”

Peeta feigns nonchalance, digging his hand into the bowl of complimentary popcorn in the center of the table and shoving a handful into his mouth.  “Kind of rude for your friend not to show up.”

Katniss narrows her eyes. “Kind of rude for you to speak with your mouth full,” she retorts, not missing a beat.

Peeta doesn't react, which only serves to annoy Katniss more. “What's he look like?” he asks her, glancing around the bar. “Maybe he just doesn't see you tucked away in here.”

Katniss flushes a delicious shade of strawberry and Peeta chalks one point up for himself. “I don't,” she starts, “I don't know.” She holds her head aloft proudly, but doubt flashes in her eyes. She looks so vulnerable for a moment that he almost feels bad about twisting the knife.

“You don't know?” repeats Peeta incredulously. “What do you mean? Is this some kind of blind date?”

“No!” she says too quickly and the attractive bloom of pink stays painted on the apples of her cheeks. Her cheekbones are so high and sharp that they look like they could cut glass. “It's just…a-a pen pal.”

Peeta plants his forearms on the table and leans toward her, trying to throw her off balance by the proximity. This ends up backfiring, however, because he catches the scent of her hair and it transfixes him with memories of spring. There's no other way to describe the earthy freshness, the subtle notes of cherry blossoms. “A penpal?!” he scoffs, sitting back against the plush backrest and attempting to get a grip on himself.

“Don't you have a PhD or something? she hisses through tight lips. “Do you really only have the capability to repeat back what I'm saying like a giant, bespectacled parrot?” 

Peeta can't help it. He barks out a laugh, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Touche,” he allows. “But you gotta admit, I think not many of us have had a penpal since the third grade.”

Katniss just harrumphs, crossing her legs and looking defiantly at the door, refusing to meet his eyes. She looks nice in her fitted green sweater and wide-legged black slacks, and there's something so oddly charming about how those worn leather hunting boots she always wears are peeking out from the hems. It's just so her. 

“Maybe he got caught in traffic,” Peeta suggests mildly, turning around to follow her gaze toward the completely empty street.

Katniss makes an irritated growling noise in the back of her throat. There's no traffic out here in West Panem. Ever.

“Or he got kidnapped by a gang of mountain trolls,” he grins, nodding cheekily at the copy of The Hobbit on the table. Her eyes flash and she pulls the book toward her possessively as if Peeta is sullying it with his razzing.

“I know what you're trying to do, ok?!” snaps Katniss. “Trying to make me feel like some kind of undesirable loser for getting stood up.”

Peeta’s grin drops. Shit. It's fun teasing her–it’s so easy, and well, she looks cute when she’s mad–but he never meant to make her feel small. That familiar voice pipes up in the back of his mind and ice fills his veins. Peeta, you worthless thing. Katniss is scowling at him, but it’s not her usual one. She looks almost defeated. And Peeta reminds himself that the restrictions on activities in the nature preserve are set to go into effect next week. He also reminds himself how he would feel if he were the one sitting here with a raw, open heart thinking Bullseye had rejected him.

“Katniss, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

But before Peeta can beg her forgiveness, a smooth baritone that sounds uncannily like his own cuts through the air. “Peeta bread!” the voice cries delightedly. “I didn’t know you had a date?!”

Peeta blanches. Oh dear God. Rye. He’s not supposed to work tonight. It’s his business partner Thom’s night. Peeta checked the schedule! He checked that list twice, Santa Clause style.

Katniss’ head swings around so fast that her thick braid nearly knocks over her glass of water. She peers up at Rye distrustfully, her eyes flickering to Peeta's, then back again, clearing clocking the family resemblance. “This is not a date,” she says icily.

He winces at her tone. Would it really be that bad to be on a date with him? 

Rye just looks confused. He raises his eyebrows at Peeta. “Oh sorry, he just has a type–”

“Jesus, Rye,” grimaces Peeta. He wants to melt onto the floor and seep into the wine cellar. “Katniss is everyone's type,” he mumbles, stealing a glance at her. The crease between her eyes deepens and he hopes she doesn't think he's still messing with her.

Fortunately, Rye recovers himself and turns on the Mellark charm that Peeta normally has in spades, but seems to abandon him everytime he finds himself in Katniss' presence. Rye spreads his arms wide, now the picture of a debonair wine bar owner. “Well, any friend–er–” he shoots another bewildered glance at Peeta when Katniss' scowl intensifies, “acquaintance of Peeta's is an, um…acquaintance of mine. I'm going to have the kitchen send out a complimentary cheese plate and a bottle of our best red. Do you like Pinot Noir?”

Katniss' ears perk up at the mention of cheese and her stomach gives an audible grumble that Peeta pretends not to notice. She pauses before admitting, “It's my favorite.” She gives Rye a tight, concessionary smile as if to say, you seem nice enough, it’s not your fault your brother makes me want to run headlong through the plate glass window at the front of this bar.

Rye grins. “Well then you're going to love this.” Then he launches into a detailed description of the wine’s silky tannins and complex flavors, including the hint of baking spice that you get when you age it in French oak barrels, a nod to the family baking business.

Katniss looks bemused. The same expression that Peeta gets when Rye waxes philosophical about wine and that Rye gets when Peeta yammers on about biodiversity in broadleaf forest ecosystems. He notices there are specks of gold in Katniss’ right eye that catch the flicker of the candle light, just the right eye. Why can’t he stop staring?

“You know a lot about wine,” says Katniss generously, seemingly trying to make amends for her curtness earlier. 

Rye puffs out his chest. “Well, kind of comes with the territory. I co-own this place.”

“Oh, wow,” she replies, sounding actually impressed. Peeta feels a tug of pride deep in his chest that she approves of the place he selected for their first meeting. But then that heady tug suddenly feels like a trapdoor opening when he remembers that Bullseye is gone. It’s only Katniss Everdeen left. The most dizzyingly desirable yet utterly out of reach woman he’s ever known. “It’s a really nice place,” she says, gesturing to the decor with her olive hand–small, but sinewy, like she could definitely send an arrow sailing through his heart with ease…and perhaps already has. “I love the artwork.”

“Thank you!” says Rye warmly. “Most of the paintings are Peeta–”

Peeta’s eyes widen and he shakes his head at Rye, swiping his hand discreetly across his neck in the universal sign of “abort!”. Rye cuts himself off with an unconvincing hacking cough. Katniss’ shrewd eyes snap to Peeta’s  face and he avoids them. Will she remember that first conversation? The one where he said he was a painter? Even if she did, she probably thought he meant painter as in, house painter, commercial painter, right? Peeta swallows thickly, feeling her retina’s burning into his skin.

“Rye,” Peeta says, through gritted teeth. “How about that cheese plate, huh?”

Rye takes a hint and scurries off to the kitchens, leaving Peeta and Katniss alone, an unbearable silence stretching between them. The booth suddenly feels impossibly small. He shifts his bad leg into a more comfortable position and inadvertently grazes her knee with his. A flush creeps up his neck.

“So….Peeta Pie…” says Katniss, finally breaking the awkward silence. He’s surprised to see that her scowl has been replaced by a little smirk.

Peeta groans and pulls his hand down his mouth. “Bakery humor, you know? I come from a long line of bakers.” 

“Guess that explains the stuff you’re bringing to Hazelle at the Hob.”

“Yep!” he confirms.

Katniss presses her lips together, then says, “I don’t know why, but I just never pictured you as a baker.”

Peeta smirks and places his arms on the table in front of them, flexing shamelessly so that the outline of his biceps will strain at the fabric of his blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. “Ah, I guess you think I’m too cut to be a baker’s boy, is that it?”

Katniss snorts and rolls her eyes. Peeta immediately regrets it.

What a dickish gym bro thing to say?! He has never, not once in his life, flirted so terribly. He had more rizz as a 16-year-old than this! Sure… he works out his upper body a lot more than he used to, he supposes his physique must look ok. But he has to, he needs to use his arms a lot more than he used to. When the prosthetic is off it’s surprising the strength you need to maneuver around. And maybe, says a voice that sounds oddly like his psychologist, Dr. Aurelius, you worry about your physical attractiveness more than you used. You wonder whether anyone finds you desirable, and that’s why what you just said is a cry for help, a need for reassurance?

The look of revulsion Katniss is giving Peeta mirrors his internal monologue. He has to fix this! He casts around for a topic that will neutralize the situation, something they can’t possibly disagree on. His eyes land on the book.

“What’s your opinion on the decision to excise the scouring of the Shire in Peter Jackson’s interpretation of the Return of the King?” he asks suddenly. 

Katniss blinks at him. “Huh?”

“C’mon, are you going to tell me you’re ok with the film completely leaving out the impact of war on Hobbiton? That it only shows war as some epic battle of elves and dwarves and men and not one of the common people?” Peeta raises his eyebrows at her expectantly. She still has her eyes narrowed, but she’s leaning in now. He knows she won’t be able to resist.

Finally Katniss blurts out, “And it totally sidesteps the commentary on industrialization!” The words come tumbling out of her mouth so fast that even Katniss looks surprised by them. She claps a hand over her mouth.

Peeta and Katniss stare at each other for a long beat, and then suddenly, they both erupt into laughter. It’s that kind of delirious laughter that you only get after unbearable tension. The kind of laughter that makes your eyes stream and coaxes the most unattractive and uncontrollable wheezing, snorting and gasping noises from the depths of your belly. The kind of laughter that wraps you up in a cozy, giddy blanket until you forget every painful thing.

A few moments later, Rye returns with a cheese plate (which Peeta notes is definitely custom made at twice the usual size) and two generous pours of the specialty Pinot. He gives Peeta a subtle wink before disappearing as quickly as possible. Katniss and Peeta dig into the platter, suddenly ravenous.

Now that the ice is broken, the conversation flows like water out of a washed out dam. They have the same taste in books (though Peeta knew that already) and music (though Katniss says he leans too heavily into sad-boy indie pop of the early aughts). And to Peeta’s delight, she tells him more about her sister, Prim, clearly the most precious person in the world to her. It feels like a gift to be trusted with those memories. Then Peeta makes Katniss laugh, recounting the time he and Rye played a prank on their big brother, Bannock, leaving “evidence” of a mouse all around the bakery, sending him on a Tom and Jerry-style wild goose chase to exterminate the ever-elusive pest.

It’s nearly 10 pm when their conversation falls into the first lull in hours. They have had second and third glasses of wine, a fact that left Katniss in stitches over his impossibly rosy cheeks, while she seemed cool, calm, and almost entirely unaffected. She tells Peeta she’s got stamina thanks to the drinking habits of her friend-of-the family, Haymitch–a  person too irresponsible to be a surrogate father (her dad was killed in a workplace accident when she was eleven), but too close to be without a family title. Her and Prim have always called him “uncle.” The wine bar has emptied out and the ambient noise around them has subsided to a dull hum.

Peeta casts another glance toward the open door. A cool evening breeze rustles through the leaves of the Monstera near the host station. “Guess your friend’s not coming, huh?”

Katniss pinches the bridge of her nose and looks down at the crumbs of chocolate fudge cake on her plate. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just so tired. “Just–don’t Peeta. I don’t need your gloating.”

Peeta holds up his hands in defense. “I’m not,” he tells her firmly. “I swear, I’m not. Listen…” Peeta pauses, searching her face, feeling her eyes lift to his like gray stones falling into the blue depths of a lake. “Anyone who would stand you up is making a serious mistake.”

Katniss blinks. She looks like she’s trying to figure out whether he’s being a prick or not.

“Big mistake. Huge,” assures Peeta, evoking Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

The reference earns him a half smile. She shrugs. “I should go.” Katniss begins rifling in her purse for her wallet, and before he can stop himself, Peeta puts a hand out to still the motion. He marvels at the way his fingers encircle her entire wrist, at the feeling of her heartbeat quickening in the delicate veins at the base of her palm. She gasps.

“It’s on me,” he says softly. 

Katniss doesn’t jerk away like he thought she might, but she shakes her head. “No way.”

“C’mon,” says Peeta. “It’s the least I can do after barging in and ruining your evening.”

“You didn’t–” Katniss cuts herself off and sighs deeply. “Peeta, I can’t. I have a thing about owing people.”

The corner of Peeta’s lips lift up in a hopeful grin. “Okaaaay,” he drawls. “Then buy me coffee at the Hob sometime?”

Katniss scrunches up her nose as she considers this. Her pulse thrums against the pads of his fingers. “Fine,” she relents, snapping the clasp on her purse closed. 

Peeta tries not to feel devastated as she stands up from the table and slips out of the booth. He releases her wrist and she immediately covers the spot where his fingers were with her other hand, caressing the soft skin in the way he wants to do. There’s an unreadable expression on her face. Confusion? Resignation? Or…could it be, longing? Pull yourself together, man, Peeta chastises himself. You’re projecting.

He stands up, too, and breathes, “So, see you around, then?”

“Well, seeing as I’ve got a debt to pay now…guess so,” Katniss snaps, but there’s something softer in her tone, something less cutting in her scowl. “Tell your brother I said thank you for the lovely meal.”

Katniss spins on her heel and glides toward the door with that soft footfall like one of Tolkien’s elves walking atop the snow. Before she crosses the threshold, she throws her head back over her shoulder, braid cracking like a whip, and calls, “Your coffee order is shit, by the way. Peeta bread.”

And then she steps out into the street and fades into the night.

[catboygirljoker]

I saw your tag about Brown eyed Braig being sung to the tune of Brown Eyed Girl

And I need you to know that is exactly, 100% what is happening inside my brain every time I say it.

CLAPPING CHEERING......i miss his pretty big brown eyes.........

braig's texture/model/appearance/vocal performance/characterization/name are all subtly different enough that in my brain hes just a completely different character. im fully aware that this is arbitrary and makes no sense and i do my level best to remind myself that he is the exact same character. but i fail often.

but even then. even still. i legitimately get kinda emotional when i think about his brown eyes. pensive emoji.

[frostara]

To serve, my beloved

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: If you pray hard enough the Gods may listen in your words; or do not – they may decide what is better for you.

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: Overall fluff, female character insert as I don’t like “Reader” labels, mind you this is medieval time and character’s view on things is misogynistic and partly delusional

Notes: Well here I go, hopefully some of you will like it! I desperately lack Cregan content here so guess time to make some of my own!

Oh, to be a wife to a good man...

It had always sounded like a fever dream to her. Something that she could not reach in her position. Her husband will be same to her kin - bitter and harsh on tongue, not someone who would love her or their kids, perhaps. She would be stuck with him, and mistake her not, she tried to look upon her future, finding hope that she would love her kids and husband, but, evil thoughts would still come back.

Thus it felt like a blessing from Old Gods when Astrid's father, lord Karstark, took her to Lady's Summons in year 125. Lady of ten and five years was given a chance for a life bettered by the will of Gods. At first, she felt trully amazed, faces and pictures dancing vividly in her head as she tried to portray what would it be like in Winterfell? What things would lay upon her gaze and who would she meet?

Her father made sure that she would be educated on story of the house they had served for many years and it's head - Lord of Winterfell. Listening to the stories, she knew he was a real man, someone to take rulement in his hands and be a true leader, a man who would have thousands following him. Her father would tell her about Starks with so much proud, not forgetting to mention the ancestory they shared.

-Fret not, my girl, conduct yourself with honor and do not forget that we are of the winter sun.

And Astrid listened. When she reached Winterfell after all the days in travel, she could not hide away relief that soon changed for worry - the time had come. All the things she was taught and saw with her eyes were put to use by her. She smiled at people, tried to talk to many and get to know this place. Her father indeed was an example to follow along the teachings of her lady-in-waiting.

But could anyone prepare her for the man when she saw him? Lord Cregan looked like a real wolf in man's skin: dark hair and eyes black like burnt wood in fireplace with furs wrapped around him, or rather, sitting on him like a trophy of a freshly killed animal. Perhaps, wisperers were true. Once he was a boy that killed his uncle, now was of tough kind. His features were heavy with shadows that danced on his face. Astrid thought of how she would look standing in the place beside him - hair of wood colour and eyes of cold water in a river. Mayhaps, she was a match to him.

She in fact was. Were it the other lords or masters or Cregan himself, but he did look at her. And was pleased with her company, as Astrid was later told, because the look on his face was hard to read, and she was worried of herself. Nonetheless, three weeks after the Summon through wich she was in Winterfell, a wedding ceremony was soon to be prepared. She had quite some time to meet people who were serving here as well as some other nobles or rather their children. What really caught her eye was the weirwood tree.

She knew that it had some remnants of ancient wisdom in it. It’s red leaves and face – mesmerising look. Astrid came to it with wary at first, as if she was invading a sacred place and putting a dark spot on it. She only had enough courage to look at it. Then, she dared to touch it and beg for some advice. In hopes that Gods would answer her she would sit or stand there, trying to realise what awaits for her.

The day she was dressed in furs, with hair combed and heart full of excitement mixed with anxiety was she standing in front of him. They only met a couple of times and there still was a lot she wanted to know about Cregan. He looked like he knew it all: what is it like to take a wife and create a family; to be the Warden of the North and the Wolf. Astrid thought they will have lots of moons for him to share his knowledge and to ask each other questions.

And as for now, as his cold lips would be on hers and his hands will wrap around her she will stay quiet – words are left for later.

[mariclerc]

betrayal and rescue (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: your ex betrays you, but luckily your teammate has your back.

Warnings: ferrari driver!reader, single mom reader, misogynistic comments, fluff and Charles being such a sweetheart.

Part 1

The last month living with Charles have been a real dream come true for you and Mia, he has been a very important support for both of you during this time, he's a very caring and gentle person, his soft touch and kind nature is what you and Mia needed to really start healing. It was a rare, lazy Sunday with no commitments pulling you two away from bed, Charles lay propped against pillows, dozing lightly with Mia curled on his chest. You smiled at their peaceful forms, carding gentle fingers through Charles' tousled and soft chocolate curls.

Mia stirred, yawning widely before spotting you. “Mama! Morning!” she crawled over to snuggle into your side, little hand gripping Charles' shirt.

“Good morning my pretty girl!” you say softly at her, kissing her cheek. “Good morning Charlie!” you giggled.

Chuckling softly, Charles' arms wound around both of you as his eyes fluttered open, he smiled sleepily. “Bonjour, mes amours.” he murmured, pressing kisses to your heads. (good morning, my loves)

You sighed contentedly, resting your cheek against his warm and comfy chest. In that moment, all the cares and worries of the world felt so far away, here in your very own cocoon of blankets, surrounded by the love of your makeshift family, nothing could touch the three of you.

Your mind wandered back over the torturous last months you've spent trapped in your ex's grip... the constant walking on eggshells, never knowing what might set off his volatile temper, never having that feeling of safety or protection, even in your own home with Mia...

Now, Charles' strong arms encircled you both, radiating an unshakable calm, warmth and safety you'd never known before. His affection for you and Mia was unconditional, showering you daily with kind words, gifts, and adventures that filled your hearts to bursting.

Tears welled in your eyes as you peered up at Charles' handsome, adoring face. “I never thought I could feel this happy and content.” you whispered. “You gave me and Mia the life, the family, we always wanted.”

Charles' gaze softened, brushing away your tears with his thumb. “I'm the lucky one, princess.” he insisted gently. “You both brought me more joy than I ever believed possible.”

Leaning down to capture your lips in a slow and tender kiss, he poured every ounce of love into it that you still had trouble believing was truly yours after so long in the darkness. But in Charles' light, you and Mia were starting to heal, to believe, and to understand that happy endings do exist for those who keep hoping.

Mia let out a squeal of happiness. “Dada, Mama! Kisses!” she said giggling.

Charles smiled at her. “We have multiple kisses for you too, petite étoile.” (little star)

He said and then he started to fill Mia's face with kisses, who giggled more and was so happy, you smiled when you saw them, it was your beautiful family.

***

The Miami race weekend brought new challenges as you and Charles tried to keep your blossoming relationship private amid the media frenzy in the paddock and social media.

You two arrived separately to avoid suspicion, only allowing your hands to brush as you passed beside each other in the paddock Charles' eyes lingered with a smile, filling you with warmth.

During the practice sessions your radios remained businesslike, but his frequent checks that if you were hydrated or had enough fuel said everything. Small glances across the garage were your only connection, yet more intimate than any public display could be.

Qualifying came, neither of you hold back—though whether from passion for racing or each other, even if you weren't sure. You were pushing your cars to their limits as if nothing else existed.

After that, you stopped by Charles' driver room under the guise of strategy debrief. But as the door closed, his lips captured yours feverishly. Your restraint finally snapped under the tension of the day, the kiss is very slow and soft, as you two break away from the kiss, you place your forehead against his.

You gazed up at him worriedly. “Do you think people will start speculating about us?” you whispered softly.

Charles brushed his lips softly over your forehead. “Let them speculate baby, I don't care who knows how much you and Mia mean to me.”

His words filled you with joy and longing for the day you could shout your love from the rooftops, but for now, this stolen moment between you two, where the world fell away, was enough.

The press conference after the qualifying session were in full swing, you fielded questions professionally about setup choices and tire strategies that put both of the Ferrari cars on the front row for sunday's race.

But one of the journalists had an accusatory tone. “Some think it's no coincidence you and Leclerc are performing so well together... Care to elaborate on rumors of an forbidden relationship distracting you both?”

You started to reply calmly when another cut in. “Yeah, she's probably just sleeping her way to the top! Honestly, what else is a pretty face good for in a man's sport?”

Venomous laughter rose from some journalists in the room, your chest tightened in panic and rage —this was your nightmare scenario. Being a woman and also being in motorsports, you have often encountered derogatory and unpleasant comments about you and about women in general, it's like most men are bothered by the fact that a girl is faster than them on the track or that women deserve a place everywhere as them, that includes sports too. Before you could respond, Charles suddenly grabbed his microphone.

“That is completely unacceptable.” he said in a low, dangerous tone that chilled the room. His green eyes blazed with barely contained fury. “She is one of the most talented and dedicated professionals in this paddock, regardless of gender. The disrespect shown here today is a disgrace to the sport.” Charles leaned over the mic, jaw clenched. “I suggest selecting your next questions more wisely and showing my teammate the respect she deserves not only as a driver, but as a human being... If not, this conference is over.”

An uneasy silence fell as Charles grasped your trembling hand supportively under the table, you took a calming breath, regaining composure.

You swallowed dryly. ”Our performances speak for themselves, which I think is good for the team.” you stated clearly. “Charles and I simply push each other to excellence through our competition and partnership, that's all.”

Max Verstappen also wanted to give his opinion on the journalist's misogynistic comment towards you.

“Forgive me for being so bold, but I think that kind of comment is very out of place. I mean, considering that y/n is a mother and an exceptional driver and she deserves the same respect as all of us, right?” Max said, staring at the journalist, who was completely pale. “I think you should ask her about her race and strategy, and not about her private life, I don't know, that's just my opinion.” he said and dropped the microphone leaving everyone in the room speechless.

The rest of the questions thankfully remained respectful, but later, outside of the press conference room, Charles embraced you tenderly.

“No one gets to tear you down like that. You are so much stronger than their smallmindedness, okay?” he whispered in your ear.

You smiled up at him through happy tears, gripping his race suit. In that moment, you knew that with Charles by your side, you could overcome any obstacle that came your way.

Despite of those awful comments, the Miami Grand Prix was a huge success for both of you, with Charles taking victory and you claiming second place on the podium, the third 1-2 finish in the season for Ferrari, you're in total bliss. You two opted to skip the official afterparties and all the glamour, eager for some low-key family time.

Back at the hotel, Charles ordered a feast from room service while you and Mia showered away the sweat of the day. Emerging refreshed in pajamas, your heart overflowed seeing Charles play with Mia on the floor, her giggles echoing.

“Mama, dada won! Yay!” Mia squealed proudly as you bent to pepper her face with kisses, Charles beamed up at you, eyes sparkling.

“You were so incredible out there today babe!” he praised, helping you plate your overflowing meal spread across the suite's floors and furniture.

The three of you dined under the moonlight spilling through enormous windows, talking and laughing for hours as Mia dozed in your lap. Finally content and full bellies, the evening wound down with Mia yawning off to bed, Charles gathered you into his lap on the couch, kissing you so deeply and yet gently as if you were made of flickering glass.

“Thank you for giving me the family I never knew I wanted... For filling these months with a happiness I ever believed possible.” he whispered softly against your lips.

You cradled his handsome face, memorizing every beautiful line and facet. “I should be the one thanking you, you know? For trying to heal the wounds of my past and giving Mia and I the love and safety we always deserved.”

He shakes his head. “It has been such a pleasure, being with you and taking care of both of you it's been a journey, a beautiful one.” he whispered and you giggled softly.

Your relationship was far from traditional, that's for sure! But on nights like this, in the blissful quiet of each other's arms, it felt more right than anything you'd ever known.

***

You definitely enjoy the little breaks in-between races, it's were you can take a moment to ground yourself outside racing and just enjoy the calm and warm of your little family and that can be just a rewarding like a race win or a podium.

“Mama!” Mia screams a little. “A scary ghost is following me!” she says while running and giggling around the living room.

Almost a second later, Charles appeared hiding in a white blanket trying to catch Mia in his arms, but she runs away... He almost collide with the coffee table.

You laughed at their funny antics. “Oh no Mia! It's a really clumsy ghost.” you say while giggling.

“Boo! There's a sneaky little girl around here, I'm going to grab her in my arms and turn her into a little ghost!” Charles' said imitating the voice of a ghost.

Mia giggled again. “No, no! Bad ghost, really bad!” she covered her mouth. “Catch mama!” she said pointing at you.

You opened your mouth, shocked. “Me? But I'm just trying to make some tea!” you say. “It's not fair baby!”

You and Mia started run around the living room, making Charles crash almost with every single chair and the rug, you two laughed at him.

You feel and arm behind you. “Haha, gotcha!” he said in a mocking tone, making you and Mia collide to the rug, he took off the blanket, revealing is disheveled hair and a flustered cheeks.

“Dada, again, again!” she said giggling.

Charles giggled too. “Oh baby, maybe tomorrow, does that sounds good?” he asked her and she nodded.

You just smiled at him, you never saw him looking so radiant and joyful, it's like he's reliving things from his own childhood and it's so nice to see him like this with Mia.

You smiled. “You are a rather scary ghost and a little silly.” you giggled.

He chuckled softly. “Well, thank you, love! It's been years of practice.” he kissed your cheek.

“You know? You're amazing Charlie!” you say softly.

He looks at you. “Really? Well, um... Thanks darling, the truth is I only do what I can.” he blushed. “It's just me.”

You kiss the tip of his nose. “And that's why you're so amazing! You're you, as silly as it might sound, you're so passionate and so gentle at the same time!”

Mia smiled and kissed Charles' cheek. “Mwah! Dada kisses!” she said softly and he giggled.

“Do you want kisses, petite princesse?” he said to Mia and she nodded. “Okay, here we go!” (little princess)

Then he proceeded to cover Mia's face with kisses all over and she let out loud giggles, you smiled at the beautiful scene, and you realized something very important... You were in front of the love of your life and your little ray of sunshine, maybe everything would have been very different if you had tried from the beginning with Charles, or maybe not, but you are very sure of one thing... You are at home, in your safe place, with your two favorite people, the ones who keep you on your toes most of the time, but you wouldn't change it for anything in the world, Not even all the podiums or victories the world has to offer you, nothing compares to this.

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓍𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ, 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹.”

contains:HARSH ANGST+SMUT<3

summary:finally getting sick of bills toxicity and instability, i packed up all of my belongings and planned to “leave him” or as i stupidly told myself, only to find myself easily falling back into his same hypnotizing trap.

WARNINGS:abusive relationship, fighting, arguing, manipulation (I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS in this story, this story is ONLY for entertainment purposes!!!), very narcissistic and misogynistic bill, hard-dom!bill, dumb-sub!reader, p in v (against the wall), degrading, pet-names, LIGHT choking, heavy breeding kink.

notes:as someone who has experienced theses types of situations firsthand, if you ever do find yourself in these kinds of circumstances please take the initial steps to get yourself out that relationship immediately, youll be fine i promise love ya!

HEAVY THEMES AHEAD!

“yeah go fucking cry about it you sensitive bitch, get the fuck outta’ my face!”bill loudly shouted at me from the living room as i ran and locked myself into our shared bedroom, tears streaming profusely down my cheeks, as i tumbled onto the bed and proceeded to curl myself up into a small pathetic ball.

im tired of living like this, being so isolated, feeling so trapped, being so mentally and physically drained, having to constantly walk around eggshells around him.

me and bills relationship was a perfect fairytale in the beginning, but quickly came burning down in flames and burnt down to pure ashes at his rage.his anger completely undoing every single precious thing he ever once said to me.

every “i love you.” or “i cant wait to start a life with you.” was once a simple loving string of words now being dangled high above my head as a reminder of his broken promises.

i still cling onto that small glimmer of hope that he could change some-day, that he could love me again, or that he could simply hold me without hurting me.

i lay in my own pity for a long grueling hour before i decide to slowly unravel myself from my position, gently getting up from the bed, wiping the tears from my eyes telling myself,

“i need to leave,

right now.”

i kick into full panic mode and immediately start changing into a dark colored tracksuit and a comfortable pair of sneakers, then i rummage through our closet grabbing random handfuls of my belongings stuffing my suitcase to the brim.

i quietly creak the bedroom door open and make my way through the dark hallway, my luggage in one hand as i try to rush towards the front door.

“going somewhere babe?”he eerily questioned, his evil presence immediately sending cold chills down my spine.

“i-i-uhm..”i mumbled trying to find some kind of explanation but it was if something was struck in my throat, i looked like a child who just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“im leaving!”i managed to spit out, slowly turning to face him.

“oh your leaving?”he responded in a cartoonish voice mocking my own, chuckling manically at my response.

he crosses his arms over his chest as he cockily looks me up and down, he then quickly steps forward grabbing me by my chin with his right hand, yanking a fistful of my hair with his left.

“cant you see THIS is the life i promised you honey?you know no-ones ever gonna buy you all those pretty dresses you like wearing f’me, provide for you like i do, or keep a GODDAMN roof over your head like i do!”

what he was saying was true, without him i wouldnt have a single penny to my name.he took care of every expense, he even had me on a monthly allowance but he didnt do anything of it out of the goodness of his heart he rather used it to his advantage knowing hed always win.

“i know i know but, i-im tired of you being like this bill, im sick of it!i swear ill give it all back if thats what you really want!”i nervously murmured, his grip on my chin and hair tightening.

“your such an ungrateful brat, you dont even deserve to be breathing the same air as me, i shouldve just throw you out months ago like the trashy bitch you are.”

he yelled into my face before slamming me against the wall letting go of some of his grip on me as he pulled down his pants and boxers along with my sweatpants and panties.

“you wanna be treated like a worthless whore ill fucking treat you like one then.“

he wrapped one of his arms strongly around my neck keeping me in place, as he teased his cock in between my slicks folds, causing me to softly whimper.

“aww…look at you poor baby, you just wanted some attention huh, want me to fuck you isnt that right?”he purred squeezing my neck firmly in his arm, sliding his length harshly inside my walls.

though i hated to admit it, it truly turned me on how possessive and upset he got when i tried leaving it showed me he still sort-of cared.the fact he still had enough respect to still fuck me was enough to have me eating right out of his palm, anytime he showed me the slightest bit of affection it casted his spell over me all over again.

he continued thrusting his full length inside my cunt, beginning to aggressively pound away, my head banging against the cold wall.

“ugh-i shouldnt even be mmhtouching you right now ungrateful bitch!”he shouted, his free hand slapping my ass sure enough to leave hand prints the next morning.

“f-fuck fuck, im ughh-yours baby!”i moaned out, tears beginning to spill from my eyes, his tip kissing my cervix perfectly.

“das ist r-richtig, mhm!du gehst verdammt noch mal nirgendwo hin(thats right, your not going fucking anywhere),

gonna fill you all up, hopefully y-you get pregnant that way your ugh-stuck with me!”

the sound of our moans combined with the banging on the wall echoed throughout the house, the faint tv not even being enough to cover up his disgusting insults and my foul cries.

“b-bill ugh please i c-cant!”

“take my f-fucking cock mhmy little cum slut!”

his hips are bucking into mine at an animalistic pace as he urgently chases his release, my walls deliciously clenching around his girth, sending him immediately over the edge.

“scheibe scheibe scheibe(shit shit shit!)”he yelled out suddenly fucking his cock deeper inside my sweet walls, ropes of his seed oozing deep inside my pussy.

“ich w-werde ganz in dir abspritzen du mmh-dumme s-schlampe, ich werde dich mit meinem verdammten baby schwängern (im gonna cum all inside you, stupid slut, im gonna get you pregnant with my baby!)”he adds breeding his cum inside me with a few final thrusts, pulling his length out of me with a loud pop.

bill then releases me from his arm allowing me to slam down onto the floor, pulling his pants up smugly as he knelt down to my level.

“next time im beating the fuck outta’ this was me playing nice, understood? now go make me some dinner before you piss me off again.”

i nod my head instantly at his demands, rubbing the side of my cheek that hit the ground.

“such a good little girl, i love you.” he praised grinning widely down at me before getting back up and walking away from me.

“i love you too.”

and the cycle continues.

THE END

[number1greedlingfan]

Headcanons that are meaningless to everyone but me (or extremely niche inside jokes formed by my friend group)

Hawkeye finds pleasantries, mostly "hello"s and "goodbye"s, pointless and kind of annoying. She'll sometimes engage in them in person but never over the phone. She often hangs up while the other person is mid "bye".

Havoc's "tried and true" opener on dates is that he prefers rainy weather because he, quote, "loves to curl up by the window with a good book and some tea". This is not only a bold-faced lie, but it hasn't helped him get past the first date so it's not any more effective than his other lines.

Fuery pulls more women than Havoc does (not that there was any competition lmao) but he is somehow unaware of this.

Mustang's singular hobby that he does purely for fun is building model ships. His only social interaction is with his coworkers because he does not have any other friends.

Ed thinks Winry is cooped up in her shop all day and all night but that's literally only when he shows up because he DOES IT UNANNOUNCED!! Winry has a thriving social life both in Resembool and Rush Valley. She knows every single person in Resembool and keeps tabs on the neighbors. She's invited to dinners and group outings all the time. People mourned when she moved to RV. Within a month of working at Garfiel's, she'd already met most of the people on the street and she remembers most of their names.

Because of her interests, it's often assumed that Winry is a "not like other girls" type but she is the exact opposite. If you say a single misogynistic thing about other girls' interests (like astrology or pop music) on a first date she is getting up and leaving.

Ling is hypermobile and can bend his hands like this️ ⬇️ as well as do things like back bends and pulling his shoulders out of their sockets. When he was younger he would go up to literally anyone (family members, visiting officials, perfect strangers) and ask if they wanted to see him pull his shoulder out and then not wait for an answer.

Ling's favorite fruit is mango. When he was seven he refused to eat anything but that and had so many that he threw up at a family function. (Mangos were ruined for him for two years.)

Lan Fan does not get sick often but when she does It's Bad and she's taken out for a week or more. When she was younger and delirious with fever, she started distressedly mumbling that she was turning into a cookie. Nothing would convince her otherwise (Fu tried everything). In the end, they had to get Ling to help and he calmed her down in seconds by saying "there are no crumbs so I think you're probably okay".

This is a small one: Lan Fan is on the ace spectrum.

When Mei cooks for other people she makes it as cute as humanly possible. Everything that can have a smiley face or heart on it will. Side note, Al and Mei are 100% a couple that cooks together.

Mei is a little bit fujopilled. You understand.

While he seems shady as hell, Greed's rap sheet is actually pathetically small. The worst crime he's ever committed is, of course, the single instance of kidnapping that we saw on screen.

Greed doesn't understand electricity. He thinks it's powered by electric eels ("eelectricity") and has numerous drawings in his diaries theorizing on the mechanics of these machines. Ex: A generator that has an eel tank with a water wheel inside of it. The drawing is accented with large arrows and question marks and "HOW DOES IT WORK"s. That being said! He's not stupid in all academics. Give this guy some numbers and put it in a financial context and he can calculate anything.

Greed likes the "finer things" but he also has bad taste and sometimes these clash horribly. Is the furniture in his home expensive? Yes. Does any of it match in any conceivable way? Fuck no. Also that nice walnut hutch that cost 1.5K is used solely to display his novelty bong collection.

Heinkel and Darius only became close and discovered the other was gay because of the Camping Trip. So,

[aliesbienish]

Love at first swipe

Benedict Bridgerton x fem reader. Modern Au.

Warnings: Cheesy AF. Innuendos.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cute smile. Check.

Kind eyes. Check.

Well written profile with no misogynistic undertones. Double check.

This guy must be to good to be true. Definitely a bot. Or married and cheating on his poor wife. Plus what girl hasn’t been screwed over by a ‘Ben’, maybe he’ll be yours.

Still against better judgement you swiped right on Mr. cute smile, and then called it a day. Closing tinder and setting down your phone, reluctantly getting up to make yourself dinner. Honestly having a partner to share the cooking load was just as appealing as the romance at this point.

Basic spaghetti made and glass of wine in hand you plopped back onto the couch to continue your next rerun of pride and prejudice, the tv show of course. At least you could always day dream of life with Mr Darcy, and if he was always looking like he just emerged from the lake then so be it.

Grabbing your phone to enter into some simultaneous mindless scrolling you saw a notification from Tinder pop up. Oh boy a new match. Maybe you needed more wine.

Of course you couldn’t help being intrigued, so you opened it up to see a new message from the definite robot himself.

Ben: Good evening [y/n], to what do I owe this pleasure?

You: Bit early to determine I’ll be a pleasure isn’t it?

I’m actually only here because I am convinced you are a bot and honestly chatting with a bot is almost guaranteed to be more exciting than chatting with a man.

Ben: I’m nothing if not optimistic. I promise I am not a bot. And before you say it; I know that it’s exactly what a bot would say but it’s also exactly what a human would say.

You: Touché. Alright Ben, prove it.

Ben: Do you interrogate all your matches or am I special?

You: You’re special. But don’t get sappy about it, I’m just suspicious that your profile doesn’t have a photo of you fishing or in front of a car.

Through many years of observation I’ve hypothesised that each human man must show one or the other.

Ben: And have you hypothesised why that may be?

You: It’s almost certainly something to do with their hunting and gathering skills. That or compensation.

Ben: And how was this concluded?

You: Well fishing is obviously a modern (and frankly boring) man’s hunting and gathering.Least amount of work and blood involved. These men want to prove they can provide, but will likely never actually do the real hunting and gathering ie. Grocery shopping.

Ben: Science seems sound. And cars?

You: Well that’s obvious. The bigger and shinier the car the smaller the 🍆.

Ben: I quite agree…but that might be because I own a mud covered beetle.

You: Haven’t you heard it’s best to keep expectations low?

Ben: And risk losing out? No thank you.

You: If you’re real, which the jury is still out, I’m sure that’s not an issue.

Ben: Still? I’m flattered. And while it may not be an issue let’s say why would I settle for bronze when I can have gold?

FYI that’s me saying I think you’re gold

You: thanks for the clarification. You’re really into calling this early aren’t you? 10 minutes and you’re obsessed.

Ben: It’s actually been about thirty minutes if you count when I first came across your profile and haven’t stopped thinking about you since.

You: That is either incredibly honest or an amazing line.

Ben: Oh it’s both. But first and only time I’ll use it, cross my heart.

You: So what next?

Ben: Coffee, tomorrow hopefully if that’s not too soon?

You: Tomorrows great. Meet in the city? Say Leicester Square at 11am?

Ben: Done. I look forward to it.

You: You’d better be real or I’ll hurt you.

You were standing in the square outside of the cinema, your agreed meeting place. Despite the anxiety in you wanting to call the date off you’d made it. It was likely a good thing you only had 24 hours or so to think about it. Ben had been funny and endearing and so damn sure he wanted to meet you. He seemed so lovely that it defied belief, but you were willing to suspend reality.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you spun around to come face to face with Ben. In the flesh, as handsome or in fact even more so than his profile photos.

You meet his eyes and suddenly you felt lost in them.

“Hi,” You muttered, a goofy smile plastering your face. “I’m [y/n]”.

“Hi back. My real names Benedict. But Ben is fine. Long story. It’s lovely to meet you properly.”

“Thank god we’re both real,” you laughed.

“To be honest I never had any doubt. When you know you know.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Maybe I’m just trying to manifest my own luck on the dating apps 🤷🏻‍♀️

[onedeadkitty]

Mizus Gender

He/him they/them she/her pronouns for Mizu

I know the writers of the show wrote blue eye samurai with Mizu as a woman disguised as a man in a way similar ish to Mulan but uh

They accidentally made it deeper than that ??

If you removed like 2 lines of dialogue in episode 5 you could even make an argument for trans masc Mizu. Or at the least gender queer.

Being transgender is not a concept in this time period. But trust. People have always wanted to be other genders, probably for the entirety of human history. And how someone would go about being trans in a world with no true understanding of the concept, might be similar to what Mizu IS DOING RIGHT NOW.

Living as a man. PERMANENTLY. Not temporarily to achieve some near goal like Mulan and the many other stories with this concept. Mizu has lived as a man nearly their entire life and no intention to ever live as a woman in the future.

Mizu admires their freshly binded chest in the mirror as a teen.

When alone Mizu refers to himself as a man.

When alone with Ringo, (someone who knows the secret) Ringo also refers to Mizu as a man.

Mizu threatens to straight kill Ringo at the the very use of the word “girl”.

When, and ONLY when seeing 2 MEN kiss does he think of Taigen.

Not to mention madame Kajis indelicate insinuation of gay sex to Mizu, something I believe wasn’t for no reason. OR Madams iconic line “you are more man than ANY come through my door” (I’m convinced she has an idea of Mizus true sex but doesn’t care to accuse or call them out for it)

They HAD lived as a woman in the past. Only for about a year, and they did it to get married for her mothers sake. To save her from a life of prostitution. She was able to be happy, because it IS POSSIBLE to be happy while not presenting how you like. It’s a strain and some can never be happy doing so but it’s possible and people do it all the time to make their lives easier or to keep the peace with family or for many other reasons.

Episode 5 gave HUGE VIBES of going back into the closet when living with your parents or just visiting. And Mizu looked SO uncomfortable and awkward in woman’s clothing and doing “wife things” (partly cause they have never done that before) and maybe it was my own projecting but I felt so uncomfortable FOR Mizu.

These things don’t necessarily mean being a transgender man specifically. Gender is actually really complicated and has ALOT to do with what society deems it.

Mizu is a masculine person. Being what Japan wants women to be isn’t in line with what Mizu is. A violent, practical, stoic, cold, masculine, confident and capable warrior.

dressing up as a woman with the makeup ONLY to try and make her husband happy. She didn’t WANT to. “To soften her husbands heart, the bride… danced” performed femininity FOR HIM. Only for Mikio to betray her for, in his eyes, being more masculine than him, by beating him in a physical fight.

Mizu is both the ronin and the bride. Mizu will be whatever they need to in order to achieve their owed deaths. They HAVE to be a man to get their revenge but that doesn’t mean Mizu WANTS to be a woman. (To be fair who WOULD in that time but I digress) and it doesn’t mean they WANT to be a man. They WANT their revenge. Everything is secondary to that.

Mizu is so different from other characters…

I grew up in a kinda misogynistic place and my mom really didn’t let me “do boy stuff” or dress masculine in any sense until my late teens. I my self don’t know if I can even call myself Trans. But I’m masculine, I like looking like a man and dressing as one but I don’t WANT to be a man necessarily. But I don’t WANT to be a woman. I feel like we as a society put to much distinction between the two and the people who don’t fit either side get left out at times.

Mizu is such a relatable character to me, like no other characters complicated feelings about their own sex and gender have ever come close.

They are for those who don’t have a strong sense of their own gender. Especially those who are biologically female and hesitant to lean into their sex because of the societal baggage.

Once people realize that how you dress, how you act, and what you do in reality have nothing to do with your bio sex and everything with what society has forced people to do based on factors out of our control is the day we can finally stop having these conversations.

Do what you want, gender is fake.

But Mizu is forever 🫶

[skelly-words]

more bf!sukuna hcs, but he’s insufferable and stuck in my head. this is part 4…

warning: some NSFW, slight intox, minors DNI

NEVER lets you drive. he’s so misogynistic. “females are bad drivers” ass bitch. "you're gonna wrap us around a tree."

claims to despise when you baby him e.g. forehead kisses, scratching his back to put him to sleep, even fucking cuddling. don’t believe that shit for a second but pretend to and stop until he starts acting grateful.

way too confrontational to be taken out in public. just pretend you don’t know him when he’s pulling a gun on someone who stepped on his shoes.

you’d be broke if you bailed him out of jail every fucking time. at least let him marinate there all night before folding or call his dad to do it instead.

so messy. it's unintentional, but sukuna just leaves a trail of disorder in his wake. throw pillows on the floor, shoes in the walkway, and always leaving the lights on despite complaining about the utility bill.

throw him outside to do yardwork or something. he loves that shit. putting in a couple fruit trees, maybe stepping stones. by the end of the summer you have a tiered garden with slate retaining walls and an automatic irrigation system.

why does he have a green thumb? he's in a secret competition with the neighbors for prettiest lawn. and yet, you manage to kill the little succulent garden he planted for you.

a minimalist (derogatory). sukuna is always trying to throw your trinkets and knickknacks away when you're not paying attention.

he loves getting a little fashion show after you buy new clothes. it's one of the few cute things he'll admit to enjoying. it doesn't matter if the outfit is skimpy or modest, hearts are popping out of his eyes like in a fucking cartoon.

doesn't apologize under any circumstances. the word 'sorry,' isn't in his lexicon. however, he will leave his card on the counter before heading to work and pick up flowers on the way home and make reservations at your favorite restaurant. don't expect to hear a real apology though.

super duper tender-headed. you can't even detangle it without him whining. might cry if you try to do braids, twists, any kinda style. fucking pussy

irritating asf. actually hate him, idk why i’m writing this. i'd probably poison him and collect the life insurance.

UMM nsfw

calling sukuna something corny and dominant in bed (sir/daddy/king/etc.) out of the blue would make him nut. and he isn’t even embarrassed about it at all.

incapable of pulling off a quickie. i think this is more endearing than aggravating. he can't hit it right in just ten minutes. he'll ask for more time. and a little more. then it's been an hour and you're likely running late for something.

thinks you're hottest bent over (i'm not even projecting rn bc my ass is flat). don't worry, he thinks your face is cute, missionary is great too. but if you wore one of those pillow case ass house dresses with no panties he'd go crazy. i hate to air him out like this, but it's true. i gotta link this shit so you know what i'm talking about. makes him feral. maybe i am projecting bc i luv those dresses.

but anyway, he'd fall for the 'bend and snap' so bad (legally blonde reference). these are basically crack, sorry

occasionally forgets that foreplay is a thing and tries to go straight from light frenching to stickin it.

i feel like sukuna’s sunday nights are spent getting really high and kissing on you for hours. he just gets the munchies dude. leaving dewy spots of saliva on all your exposed skin. once he’s tasted that, your clothes is peeled off so he can drool on the rest of you. he doesn’t even realize how much of a tease he is. his mouth suctioned to your inner thigh… maybe i should just write this as its own thingy

p sure i said this already, but he’s a biter. gnaws on you like a mf chew toy. it’s an oral fixation thing, if you don’t like it buy him lots of lollipops and tic tacs.

ok i have to stop before i gross myself out. tyty for reading <3<3<3 have a wonderful day.

masterlist if you wanna read the rest

[miercoooles]

Didn’t Know You Had That In You

Summary: After a tiring qualifying race, you return to the pit and overheard your co-drivers talk about whether or not they would date you.

Pairing: Sergio ‘Checo’ Perez x Fem Leclerc Driver!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Sister!Reader, Sebastian Vettel x Platonic!Reader, F1 drivers x Leclerc Driver!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: a lot of time skips, use of y/n, mutual pining, teasing, English isn’t my first language (so advance apologies for the terrible writing again)

A/N: I don’t see enough Checo fics so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Also this is entirely fiction, I remember what happened during the races 2014 - onwards in F1, but for the sake of the story I had to change it (please don’t come after me).

Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

You first joined F1 as a reserved driver for McLaren Mercedes the moment you turned 20, and it was like a dream come true. Although it was difficult for you to adjust at first as it was a male-dominated sport, you managed to quickly hit it off with Jenson Button and Kevin Magnussen who are the main drivers for your team. And after months of being in the 2014 season, you were introduced by your teammates to the rest of the paddock and even became friends with some of them. So it was safe for you to say that you are already part of the F1 family.

Soon came your first ever race in Silverstone. Finishing fourth in the race, news broke out and spread like wildfire headlining that you are one of the few and currently the only female driver in Formula One, and since then you have received lots of sexist and misogynistic comments that made you feel uncomfortable and made you think twice about the career path you have chosen.

Shortly after that, you began detaching yourself from your crew and the entire F1. But when you thought no one cared that you were distancing yourself because no one approached you, you felt heartbroken. And if they did care enough to notice, no one ever brought anything up which hurt you more. That was until the Force India driver Sergio Perez, who you have gotten to meet once or twice within the four months you’ve been in F1, confronted you about your sudden change of attitude.

You were shocked at first that he was the first one who brought it up considering you weren’t really close with him, but that small gesture was enough to make your heart flutter. “Hey what’s up? You’ve been separating yourself away from us recently.”, he asked, his English broken as his thick Mexican accent became prominent and his eyes filled with concern.

You looked away, biting your lower lip as you tried to hold in the sob you have been carrying for weeks now. When the Force India driver sensed that you were close to tears, he pulled you close into his arms, embracing you tightly as he comforted you. “It’s alright, you can let it out.” He whispered into your ears as he caressed your back with one of his hands, while the other softly cradled your head.

When you felt his warmth surround you, you let everything out quietly as he held you close to his body. Your body quivered as you cried and nuzzled closer to him while he stayed there, whispering soothing words in your ear. You stayed there for a few moments before pulling away from him and thanking him quietly before leaving him there standing.

After that encounter with Sergio, you did your best to avoid the Hispanic around the paddock and pit, but you started interacting with the rest of the drivers again. You have been seen mostly hanging around your teammates and sometimes with the German Red Bull driver Sebastian Vettel.

In your unbiased (totally) opinion, Sebastian was the most down to earth driver you have ever met. He’s sweet, funny, caring, and just utterly wholesome. You first started talking during the German Grand Prix, it was mostly formal and just him trying to get to know you. But by the end of the 2014 season, you both became best friends and completely inseparable that other racers thought you two were dating to the point that they would tease you whenever you two are together. Although you have both established that your relationship with each other is purely platonic.

A thing about Sebastian is that his love language was physical touch, so he’d show affection by wrapping his arms around your shoulder, holding your hand, kissing your forehead, and crushing you with his hugs (which you love so dearly). He would obviously do the same to others, but with you it was different. He was definitely clingier to you and more overprotective of you than the rest. And if comfort was a person, it would be Seb for you.

When the 2015 race season came and you replaced Kevin Magnussen as one of the main drivers for McLaren when he announced his retirement while Sebastian moved to Ferrari along with Kimi Räikkönen. Although it was known that Kimi was the Iceman of Formula One, you somehow managed to make your way through his heart and melt his cold exterior. Thus the three of you are always seen hanging around one another and earning the nickname ‘The Paddock Princess and her Ferrari Princes’.

And despite the fact that you found your platonic soulmates amidst the crazy and busy environment of the paddock, you still constantly longed for someone. Someone who you see every race, who you battle with during races. And you usually found yourself thinking of the day he comforted you when no one would, his touch and words haunting you.

Today was one of those days where your heart ached to be hugged by him and be around him once more. When Seb found you in the McLaren garage, your eyebrows furrowed as you chewed your bottom lip while zoning out, he knew that something was bothering you.

He sat beside you, leaning his head on your shoulder, looking at you through his eyelash as he spoke. “What’s got you deep in thought?” Though he had an idea of what you were thinking of, he just asked for confirmation and to check if you were alright.

His question drew you back to reality. You blinked a few times before turning to look at him, quirking a brow at him. “When did you get here?”

“Just a minute ago. You didn’t answer my question though.” Seb replied nonchalantly.

“Sorry, I zoned out. What was your question again?”

“I asked what’s gotten you deep in thought.”, he repeated once more, his eyes not leaving yours.

Sebastian knew about your first meeting with Sergio, he also knew that you had been pining on him ever since. So when you told him about what was bothering you, he just smiled and gave you a side hug, patting your shoulder. “It’s alright, liebling. I know how much you miss him even though you still feel guilty about leaving him.”

You smiled despondently, knowing you won’t have a chance with him after making a horrible first impression while he tried comforting you. And Seb being your best friend who doesn’t like seeing you sad, he had to think of something that would reunite you to your crush. And so he went to consult with his teammate on what they could do to help you overcome your shyness with your crush.

A few days have passed since you have had your conversation with Sebastian, and you have noticed that he became weird towards you like he had something mischievous planned out for you. You shrugged it out thinking he’s just being his cheeky self to cheer you up.

However, today was different. You won your first ever pole position in your whole career. It was an achievement not just for you, but for your whole team. As you got yourself out of the car and finished your post race requirements, you ran to your team who hugged you from the barrier and patted your helmet as they cheered and congratulated you. You pulled away from them, returning to your car as you removed your helmet and gloves. But before you could even start, you were trapped in a bear hug by none other than your best friend, Sebastian, who had ended up in third.

“Congratulations, liebling! Your first ever pole, how do you feel?” He interrogated excitedly, pulling away from the hug. You chuckled at his excitement for you which resulted in him looking at you confused.

“Did I say something funny?” He asked, looking lost, and you shook your head. “No, it’s just… Shouldn’t that be the interviewer’s job to ask me how I feel?” You answered, pointing to the interviewer as they prepared.

“Yes, but I’m your best friend.” He responded, standing proudly at his statement. “ And as your best friend, it is my duty to ask you first! Shouldn’t you be more excited than what you’re giving me now? Are you disappointed? Nervous? Do you feel well?” He continued, shaking your body and bombarding you with questions to which you dismissed as you removed your helmet.

“I’m okay, Basti. Stop worrying too much.”, you assured, patting his shoulder. He gave you a perplexed look before nodding slowly, unconvinced of your answer.

There was a short period of comfortable silence between the two of you as you watched him remove his gears. “Be careful, I might melt if you keep watching me like that.” The German driver teased, making you scoff and roll your eyes as you mouthed the word ‘cocky’.

He chuckled at your attitude before he saw a certain someone behind you, removing his gears too. “Look who got P2.”, Seb whispered, gesturing behind you. You subtly looked over your shoulders to see the man you were infatuated with, run his hand through his fluffy brown hair which made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Sebastian laughed at your face when he saw your cheeks and nose dusted with a light tint of pink as your close friend knew the effect the Force India driver had on you. And so he and the Iceman devised a plan that would make the two of you talk again.

When the third placer finished his post interview, Checo made his way to the interviewer, giving Sebastian a fist bump on the way. As the Ferrari driver made his way to you, he saw you observing Sergio intently as he talked to the interviewer, your green orbs swirling with longing and affection for him, that was not easily noticed by anyone who did not know you. But Seb smirked as he watched your unsaid feelings for the Hispanic driver unfold through your eyes.

When the Mexican concluded his interview, Seb knew it was time for his plan to be put into action. So as you made your way to the interviewer, Seb stretched out his leg making you trip on his foot. But before your face planted to the ground, the Hispanic caught you in his arms.

He helped you up and asked if you were okay. You did not hear him and looked at him quietly as your brain tried to process what just happened, your cheeks turning into a deep shade of red from embarrassment. You heard Sebastian’s laugh from behind and you snapped your neck to look at him, giving him a scowl.

“Are you hurt?” A soft voice asked you once more. You turned around to see your crush looking back at you already, his eyes filling with concern as he scanned you to see if you were scathed. You shook your head softly in response. “I’m unharmed.” You replied, beaming a smile at him. “Thank you for… uhm… For catching me.” You continued, blushing as your hand made its way to your nape, rubbing it as you tried to hide your embarrassment.

“No problem.” He answered, laughing. Checo found your current situation adorable as your cheeks tinted with the shade of red. “I’m glad you're okay. And congrats on your first pole, yeah? You were amazing out there.” He complimented, grinning brightly at you as he patted your back.

You felt your cheeks heat up once more from his words before giving him a small thanks. When he left, you made your way to the interviewer and answered their question. Once it was done, the three of you took a photo, you sandwiched between the two men. You looked up to see Checo staring at you before looking at the camera and smiling.

Finishing the photo op, you and Sebastian left together, bidding your farewell to Checo. And once you were far enough from their sight, you smacked the back of his head a wee bit too hard. “Ow! What was that for?” He asked, scrunching his eyebrows while rubbing the area you hit as he followed you to the Ferrari garage.

“You idiot! You think I don’t know that you tripped me on purpose? That was so embarrassing. How am I supposed to make up for that?” You exclaimed, pacing back and forth, not even bothered by the looks the Ferrari engineers are giving you as you worry that your second impression was even more embarrassing than the first one.

Kimi leaned against the wall and drank water, watching everything with amusement as he saw you panic about whatever it was that was happening. Seb only laughed before placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from moving. “How about you take him out for dinner?” He suggested, grinning slyly. Your eyes widened at his proposition, shaking your head before smacking him once more.

“No way in hell am I going to do that. I already embarrassed myself in front of him twice. What if he rejects me? What if he starts laughing at me? Kimi, please help me stop him from spewing out more stupid ideas?” You turned to the Finnish as his teammate won’t stop pestering you.

Kimi cracked a faint smile as he saw your distressed state, walking to you before hugging you, “You worry too much you know? If he does reject you, at least you tried. Is that not what matters?” He comforted you, trying to assure you while he caressed your back. You silently thought of what he said before pulling away and nodding.

“Whose side are you really on, Kimi? But you’re right.”

“When were my ideas ever wrong?” Vettel interjected, smirking.

“Don’t push it, Vettel. If it wasn’t for you, I would not be in this situation in the first place.” You threatened, jabbing his chest with your finger and the Ferrari drivers just chuckled.

“Go, liebling. Ask your Prince Charming out.” Sebastian teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Kimi whistled, encouraging you more.

“By the way, congratulations on your first pole, kiddo! I knew you could do it.” You heard Kimi yell as you walked away from them. You turned around and smiled at Kimi, making a heart with your hands before going on your way to find the Mexican driver.

Searching every garage in the paddock, you found him sitting outside the Force India tent, drinking water.  You stood in front of his team’s tent as you thought of ways on how you could approach him, not seeing that he was already looking at you.

When you stopped in your tracks in front of your crush’s tent, he immediately noticed your presence. He crossed his legs over the other, tilting his head and smiling softly, as he watched you stand over at the entrance pondering over something.

When he first met you, he was enamoured by you. Not because of your looks but because of your determination and dedication. He knew how it was incredibly hard for women to enter a male-dominated sport that was rising into fame. But when he saw you, something about you just immediately wanted him to be closer to you.

There was something about you and the way you carried yourself with elegance even when you are surrounded by males who are always at each other’s throat. The way you made everyone comfortable and laughing after the race. So when he saw you disconnecting yourself from the rest of the paddock, he knew he had to do something. He was usually a quiet and reserved type of guy, but to you, it was different, he only wanted to preserve your smile that never fails to pull his heart strings.

On the day he confronted you, never in his wildest dream he thought he’d be bold and courageous enough to pull you close as he let you cry in his arms nor did he ever expect to be in such propinquity with you, not that he was complaining. He caressed your back, guiding you to lean on his body, steadying you.

Not being able to stop himself, he placed a small and soft kiss on your temple, his lips brushing your forehead lightly before whispering comforting words into your ear. He felt you stiffen and he thought he overstepped his boundaries that you were going to run away. But he smiled as you relaxed into his arms once more as you recovered from your crying.

The moment you pulled away, silently thanking him before leaving him standing there, he wanted nothing more than to chase after you, but his fear of crossing your limits made his legs won’t budge.

After that small but meaningful interaction, his heart constantly searched and yearned for you. He would find himself walking around the paddock, looking for you. And when he did see you, you were often hanging around with your teammate Jenson or with the Ferrari drivers, Kimi and Sebastian, mostly the latter. Though Sergio won’t admit it out loud, he would always feel a twinge of jealousy in his chest whenever he sees Sebastian’s close proximity to you as he wished it was him in the German’s place.

So when he saw you right now standing in front of Force India’s tent, he grinned, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He placed his cup on the table beside his chair before standing up and striding towards you.

“Hola, what brings you to enemy ground?” The Mexican started with a teasing tone.

You hadn’t noticed that you had been spacing out until you heard and saw Checo in front of you. Your cheeks turned into a light shade of red due to embarrassment from zoning out, resulting in a chuckle from him.

“Hi! Uhh…” You trailed off, looking away as you turned shy in his presence. He hummed, signalling you to go on and tell him what you were meant to say.

“I wanted to ask if you would like to have coffee with me? Just a little thank you for all the trouble you’ve gone through because of me.”

There was a deafening stillness that came after your question. If it was possible for your face to turn any more red, it was definitely right now. You wished and prayed for the ground to swallow you alive as the silence prolonged every minute.

Hesitating to look up, you saw Checo’s face that was taken aback.

“You don’t have to, I was just thinking of returning the favour.” You followed up, running your hand through your post race hair, feeling more nervous than ever.

As he gave you no answer, you turned your back and slowly walked away from him, disappointed. Checo recovered from his shock as soon as he saw you starting to walk away. And not wanting to lose another chance with you, he grabbed your wrist, halting you from your movement, and spinning you around to look at him.

“I would love that.”, he responded, smiling in relief.

“But I’m not sure your boyfriend would like that.” He continued, gesturing at your best friend who had been watching the entire thing.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what the Mexican was saying then looking behind you and to see Sebastian, grinning widely and completely amused at your situation. You threw daggers in his way before turning back to the person in front of you, your nervousness washing off as you finally understood.

“Basti? My boyfriend?” You asked, chuckling as if the idea of you dating your best friend was ridiculous. When you saw Checo’s straight and confused expression, you giggled before turning serious.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Checo. If anything, he’s my platonic soulmate and my brother from another mother.” You explained, suppressing a smile at the thought of Sergio being jealous of Sebastian.

He nodded at your clarification, his body relaxing. “Okay then, I would most definitely be up for coffee with you. It would finally be nice to finally have an encounter with you that doesn’t involve you getting hurt first.”

As years went by and when 2018 came, the drivers you bonded with left one by one until the only ones you were close with was Sebastian, Kimi, and Checo. Your old teammate Kevin Magnussen returned to drive for Haas, while you continued your contract with McLaren.

But still being the only current female driver in F1, the sexist comments followed you around. And adding fuel to the fire, your younger brother, Charles, joining Sauber Ferrari for Formula One sparked a lot of judgement from others especially when they found out that you were related to one another. Though it made life in and out the race more enduring, you did not mind as the thought of you racing against your own brother was more thrilling.

Presently, you are holding a contract with Ferrari alongside your brother for the 2023 season and you are currently preparing for the Miami qualifying race.

If you had to be honest, you are completely terrified of today’s qualifying since the practice races went terribly for you, not that you expected anything better. But at the same time, you were excited because your brother managed to stay on top despite the issues with the track.

When you finished preparing, you stopped over Charles’ garage and wished him good luck, hugging him and ruffling his hair. He grumbled and groaned about his hair being hard to fix but nonetheless smiled at you before embracing you once more.

You made your way to your car, getting in and putting your gloves and your steering wheel in their proper places. Prior to that, you said your little prayer, sighing softly that nothing bad would happen.

As the race started, everything went smoothly until the last lap when Charles had an accident, crashing into the barriers. And although you wanted to stop the race and run to him to check if he was okay, you had to finish the race as you were the fourth quickest.

“Is Charles okay?” You radioed to your engineer as you crossed the finish line. When your engineer confirmed that your younger brother is safe, you let out the breath of air you had been holding.

When the race concluded, you made your way to your brother, tackling him to the ground.

“You psycho, you scared me to death.” You reprimanded him, huffing. “But, I’m glad you came out safely.” You proceeded, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing up and helping him up from the ground.

“Sorry, you know how hard it is to control the car when the turns in Miami are wide.” He mumbled, rubbing his nape from embarrassment and you just nodded in understanding.

Soon after the whole qualifying, you had no idea that everyone would be gathering in the Ferrari motorhome. So when you went back to the tent, exhausted and ready to pass out, you were shocked to hear voices from different people as they talked about different things.

You camped outside where the Ferrari is located, sitting on the ground, not wanting to ruin their boys’ get-together as you eavesdropped on them waiting for someone to speak up.

“So, I have a question.” You heard Pierre start. You did not have to see them to know that they all looked at Pierre as they waited for him to continue his thought.

“Would you or would you not date Y/N?”

Even with the silence, you knew that the boys were confused and appalled at the random question they were thrown with. You stifled a laugh, staying as quiet as possible, not wanting to announce your presence.

“Excuse me? What do you mean would you or would you not date my sister when she’s literally my sister? Also, aren't some of you taken already?” Charles complained, his Monegasque accent thick.

“I mean it as a hypothetical question, Leclerc. It’s not like I’m asking them to break up with their current partners and get on with your sister.” Gasly snarked sassily, and you knew that Charles would have rolled his eyes at his best friend.

No one made a noise for a whole minute, worried about what Charles’ reaction would be if they answered honestly.

“Don’t you think she’s a wee bit old for us?” The current youngest driver answered. You silently scoffed at Oscar’s question, wondering how old they thought you were. You were about to barge in when you heard Esteban counter.

“She’s turning twenty-nine as far as I know. Am I right Charles?”

Your brother hummed in agreement with the French, clearly annoyed because of the topic. It made you smile to know that your brother is still overprotective of you even though you were older than him. You unconsciously moved your hands to your necklace, playing with the ring on it as you anticipated for their answers.

“Since no one is answering, let’s do a poll. Raise your hand if you are willing to date Y/N Leclerc.” Pierre announced, impatiently.

A few drivers put their hands up including Carlos, Lewis, George, Zhou, and some others, not that you could see them anyway. When Pierre was satisfied with the amount of hands raised, he continued. “Now whoever won’t date her, raise your hands.”

The rest of the people who did not raise their hand on the first question, lifted their hands up. But there was one person who did not participate in the poll and Pierre noticed it. Pierre told the others that they could put their hands down as he made his way over to the 33 years old Mexican Red Bull driver.

“You have been awfully silent, Prime Minister of Defense.” He taunted. Checo, who looked lost, knitted his eyebrows at the Frenchman who was pressing him for answers.

“He’s married, Pierre. Even if it is just a hypothetical question, he won’t answer that.” Max Verstappen, his teammate, intervened, rolling his eyes in the process.

Max was right when he mentioned that Sergio is married, but no one knew who he was married to because he managed to keep it off the radar, both from his fellow drivers and the media.

At this point, you knew that there was a fight that was about to erupt between the drivers, so you stood up from the ground and dusted your pants before entering and involving yourself.

“What are you doing boys?” You asked, acting clueless like you had not heard that they were talking about you.

Most of them stayed silent, even your own brother could not look at you and as much as you wanted to laugh, you had to hold it in to not break your cover.

“Well, I was just wondering whether any of our friends here would want to date you.”

“And how is it coming along?” You questioned, leaning against your brother.

“Some of them would want to date you, while others don’t. But I’m really curious about Checo here since he didn’t choose one at all.”

You raised a brow at Pierre’s statement as you fought back a smile. “Is that so?” He nodded and then the air was once again still.

“How about you, Y/N? Would you date Checo?” A voice broke out, making you whip your head at the Spanish Aston Martin driver.

Before you could even answer, Charles already intervened. “Hey, you can’t ask that question to a lady.” He pointed out, his ever so feminist side coming out to protect you.

You patted your brother’s shoulder, calming him down, before answering coolly. “I can neither confirm nor deny the answer to that question. He’s married, Nando. I don’t want to be a homewrecker.”

“Okay, how about this? Imagine he’s not married and is currently a bachelor, would you date him then?” Alonso stated, fixing his question.

You were stunned to say the least when Fernando persistently asked the question. You stayed quiet until Pierre started pestering you to answer the question before sighing, knowing that his stubborn-headed nature won’t stop until you give an answer.

Everyone was staring at you as they waited for your answer. You took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, finally replying. “If he were single. Then yes, maybe I would date him.”

You buried your face on your palms as you hid your embarrassment when you heard them all squeal and go crazy at your response, teasing Checo along with it. If you were embarrassed, imagine how much more if you were the Mexican driver.

“Okay, enough. Now leave the poor man alone, yeah?” You shook your head as the boys nodded, still teasing Checo.

You went to your driver’s room to change your clothes as you had dinner reservations tonight. When you came out you saw that they were all still there. You walked past them, feeling their eyes check you out. You had a glimpse of Charles, sneering and clenching his jaw and fist as he watched his friends ogling his sister.

“I’ll be out, boys. Please don’t make a mess of the garage.” You reminded them, before turning around to leave them.

But before you could exit, you halted in your tracks, looking over your shoulder. “Chéri, I suggest you get ready if you still want to catch our dinner reservation.”

When you hadn’t heard a peep from your significant other, you turned around to see seventeen of the drivers looking at one another, flabbergasted, eyes accusing one another because of your statement. You watched Charles who was doing his best to hold his laughter as the boys’ dispute broke out.

You looked at the man you were speaking to, his eyes widening as he realised what you just did. “Ah, yes. I had forgotten about that. Gracias for reminding me, mi amor.”, his voice you loved so dearly spoke out.

You smirked when you saw the other drivers’ glance over to where the voice came over, their jaws dropping slack on the ground as your partner revealed themselves.

Your significant other walks towards you, kissing your cheeks before heading out and getting ready for your dinner. Once he was no longer out of sight, the boys started flooding you with questions and inquiries. You gazed at Charles, your eyes pleading for help as the boys crowded you, and he only laughed, giving you two thumbs up in support.

“You’re married to… Checo?!?”

“You’re Checo’s secret wife?”

“Since when?”

“How?”

They bombarded you with more questions until you held your hand up, signalling them to stop. When they calmed down, you and Charles guffawed together.

“You knew?” Pierre asked Charles, looking hurt by the betrayal of his best and closest companion.

Charles shrugged, catching his breath from the laughing fit, “Well, she’s my sister. Of course, I knew.”

“And you never bothered telling me about it?” Pierre pushed further into the topic as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing your brother should have done.

The two approached one another as if they were preparing to fight. You took a step in between them, holding your arms out to prevent the heated argument from escalating.

“Woah, woah. Calm down. Let’s not get into a physical fight, yeah?” You chided, raising an eyebrow at Charles.

The two looked away, their faces red from shame as they realised what was going to happen. They mumbled their apologies before shaking each other’s hand in truce. Charles went back to his post beside you, thus you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Wait if you’re married, where’s your ring?” Lando piped up.

“I mean Sergio always wears his ring, but I don’t see yours.” He proceeded, tilting his head innocently like a child. 

Once again the question asked brought the eyes of the drivers drilling holes into you.

“Are you insinuating that I’m embarrassed to show the world that Sergio is my husband, Lando?” You retorted sassily. When you saw Lando’s face flushed white as the colours drained from it, you let another laugh loose.

“I’m only teasing. I always have my wedding ring on me, I just don’t wear it during races. Instead I put them on the necklace Papa gave me.” You explained, showing the ring that was hanging with the pendant necklace your father gave you for your 18th birthday. The boys made an ‘o’ with their mouth as they slowly understood what was happening.

When Checo entered the motorhome, he immediately went to you, kissing your cheeks then proceeded to wrap his arm around your waist protectively. You eyed your husband and saw that he wore a light blue long-sleeved button down polo that hugged his body well. Its sleeves folded up until his elbow and left two buttons open. Along with that, he wore grey pants that were neatly pressed and white rubber shoes to finish it off.

You looked at your watch, your eyes widening when you saw it was almost 7 in the evening. You looked at Checo once more, whispering in his ears and he nodded.

“We have to go or else we’ll miss our appointment. Charles, if you still plan on joining us, you should get ready now.” You reminded your little brother who was busy talking to Carlos.

Charles looked at you and excused himself from Carlos as he made his way to his driver’s room.

“So Y/N, huh? I didn’t know you had that in you, compadre.” Alonso started, winking as he teased his fellow Hispanic driver. You laughed as your husband tightened his grip on your hips, his cheeks turning into a deep shade of red.

“I don’t understand what you mean?” The man beside you said, his face forming yet another confused expression.

“Oh, come on now. You managed to pull the most amazing and talented driver on the grid. Surely, you know what I mean?” Alonso continued, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You laughed more when you felt Checo hide his face on the crook of your neck, his cheeks heating up at Fernando’s comment. You kissed the crown of his head, as he buried his face more when Nando wouldn’t stop.

“Nando, I think you’ve embarrassed him too much already.”

Fernando laughed at what you said before stopping and patting your husband’s back. When Charles returned the three of you bid your goodbyes to your co-drivers before walking out of the motorhome and into your car.

Sergio sat on the driver’s seat while you sat on shotgun and Charles at the back. As Checo drove, he placed one hand on your thigh making you smile as you leaned your head on the window.

“That was fun.” Charles commented, breaking the comforting silence that surrounded the three of you.

You let out a chuckle once more before turning to Checo, seeing that he was already looking at you. His eyes gleaming with pride and joy at the thought of you finally revealing your marriage to your friends.

[stars0fthesea]

Hello! I’m so extremely bored so I’m gonna post a song analysis kind of thing? But it’s about Jason and Amelia. Uhmmm idk how to explain it soooo JUST READ!!!

Song: A Humans Touch (on Spotify by TWRP, McKenna Rae)

(TW: Mentions of child abuse and neglect. I don’t go into super details but it is mentioned.)

(ALSO ALSO These are my own versions of Jason and Amelia. They were childhood friends that grew up together!!! I’ll make another post about that or whatever.)

Jason and Amelia ^

The first bit could be applied to both of them.

“Am I toy to you, my love? Just a thing to play and then throw away.”

For Jason it’s the feeling of betrayal. he did everything for Amelia, kept her safe from the world. He was loyal to her and yet she betrayed him when he was at rock bottom. He believes that Amelia took all the “love” he gave to her without giving anything back. Essentially she “threw him away” after she realized she no longer needed him. Even though that isn’t what happened.

Jason just can’t ever blame himself for his own actions and the consequences that follow. He didn’t keep Amelia safe, nor was he ever loyal. He wanted control over her, and when he no longer had that control he became angry. That anger mixed with the exhaustion and burnout he faced ended up killing him.

For Amelia, she felt terrified— she was terrified. Always feeling as though Jason never truly loved her, only used her, manipulated her into having no one around her. Scaring her from ever making true friends and only having Jason, until the end. Which goes with the “Am I just a toy to you, my love?” Jason played with her, toyed with her emotions. Turned her once confident personality into a more confined one.

“I never asked for this”

Jason never asked his parents to neglect, abuse, and kick him out of the house all because he wanted to become a toymaker. Amelia never asked for Jason to treat her the way he did just because she was one of the only one to treat Jason nicely.

“I always did my best.”

Jason always listened to his father. Fixing any flaws his father would point out. He did everything to try and get his attention, try and make him proud— until he realized that nothing. Nothing. He did would ever make his parents happy. Everything he did was a mistake in their eyes. And so he tuned them out. Jason didn’t need them anyways. For gods sake he would show them just how amazing he really is.

…

“Without your love, I am a broken mess.” Self explanatory for Jason…after Amelia killed him he ended up being broken. His heart became more rotten after losing Amelia’s love for him. He turned into a mess, looking for a woman that can replace what Amelia left. A void in his heart, waiting to be filled.

This entire part is just Jason. ^

“I never did you wrong”

These words fit Amelia more. During their entire relationship Amelia didn’t do anything to Jason. She was supportive of his dreams, offered to help him succeed, she was an amazing friend.

Yet Jason still treated Amelia as if she was nothing but a toy. She did everything for him, but Jason treated her like a child. Hell she could have done so much more than the pathetic redhead and he’d still see her as something he has control over. Amelia knew that they would never be equals in his eyes, and she didn’t dare say anything about it. (If you couldn’t tell he’s a misogynist.)

For Jason these words just circle back to his entire belief being: His actions are justified because everything he did was to protect Amelia from the cruel world she didn’t understand. He didn’t do anything wrong to Amelia, she just didn’t understand anything. She didn’t understand the love he was giving to her.

“Until the new me came along.”

Amelia again! This kind of goes with the first part but I wanted to write it separately. We know Amelia didn’t do anything to Jason, yeah.

She eventually did free herself from his control, realizing what he was doing to her. It took a lot of courage and strength but she did it. She escaped Jason. And eventually she killed the man that manipulated her. Thus why the lyrics: “I never did you wrong, until the new me came along.” Fits her so well. This new version of herself took over control and got rid of the evil redhead.

“it was just you and me”

Jason from the very start of his life was neglected. His own parents didn’t want him. He was alone. At school nobody would speak with him. The teachers felt bad, but they didn’t do much with the children teasing and bullying Jason. He had absolutely no one.

But then.

Amelia showed up in his life. Amelia who was smiling brightly since the day she met Jason. She was talkative and sure a bit annoying, but Jason finally had someone. And it wasn’t bad. Despite all the other children whispering rumors about Jason, Amelia stuck by his side.

It was just Jason and Amelia.

Jason needs Amelia. Or at least that’s what he thinks.

He takes the lives of every woman that reminds him of Amelia. Whether it be their personality, their face, their looks, whatever. He desperately tries to feel how it once felt to have Amelia by his side. Call it obsession if you will…but really he just misses having such power and control over someone.

[yourgfdgirlfriend]

can we talk about how toxic this whole “that small thing gives me the ick” narrative is?

like, girl, him using a basket at the grocery store or bringing water to the airport gives you ‘the ick’, but him never doing a single chore or believing women are inherently better at cleaning, like it’s some instinctual level ability is fine!? you’re gonna deal with him actually thinking he’s superior to you, but don’t he dare pick up a ping pong ball or you’re out?

wanna know what gives me ‘the ick’? rudeness. sexist behaviour. selfishness. masculinity, that is so fragile wind could knock it over. being unable to give a genuine apology. those are things that make me wanna drop someone; not normal human actions.

can we stop picking on any even slightly feminine perceived behaviour in men and just let them live without this ginormous expectation to always be this strong masculine picture of a man that no one is ever gonna be able to fulfil? you’re creating the same pressure on them we as women get all the time. you’re feeding into toxic masculinity. stop. make an effort to end this thinking instead. all the ‘icks’ I see on social media are so fucking stupid and misogynistic in their core; usually accompanied with sentences like “well, if he’s gonna cry about a birthday gift, he’s not my alpha anymore” no, he’s not. he is a real person with feelings, you fucking brainwashed-by-the-patriarchy monster.

give me a fucking break; i’m so sick of seeing people pressured into these roles their whole life and being so unhappy and hold so much resentment. just stop. let men cry. let men think kitties are cute. let men dangle their feet. let men giggle and be silly. let men have genuine moments of happiness without thinking about whether or not they seem masculine enough. cut them some fucking slack. and maybe there will be fewer men hating women, because they always had to be a certain way to be accepted. every woman knows the feeling of all these expectations and rules you have to follow. we know how much it sucks; how suffocating it is. so let’s stop repeating this narrative and start breaking out of it. reflect on where you’re coming from before criticising someone’s behaviour. we’ll all be happier for it.

and don’t anyone dare to use this as anti-feminist. this is inherently feminist, because it breaks with the tale of women being poor innocent damsels in distress unable to harm anyone or anything; always the victims. perfect little dolls. we’re not. women are cruel and flawed. women are offenders. women are judgmental. women are cold hearted and shortsighted. women are petty. women are misogynistic. (not all women of course *cough cough*) women are not perfect. we are human. of course the “women are capable and smart. women are superheroes” side of feminism is widely preferred. let’s be honest no one wants to hear bad things about themselves, especially when fighting against your own oppression; but it’s therefore no less true. both are legitimate; they’re two sides of the same coin. deal with it.

and if I see anyone hurting a sweet boy’s feelings, because him owning a stuffy or something adorable like that gave you ‘the ick’ I’m gonna personally bitch slap you so hard, that looking in the mirror will give you the ick for the rest of your life. savvy?

[twopoint99]

Possible spoilers if you haven’t already listened or read the book. Also, spoilers for The Horror of Dracula, 1958 and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992.

One of my favorite things about @re-dracula is seeing the reactions of people whose main exposure to the story is through the many film adaptations. The differences in how the characters relate to one another are way too many to list from film to film. Even aside from the bizarre choices (Lucy as Mina’s sister-in-law - the Horror of Dracula, 1958, or Mina as the reincarnation of Dracula’s lost love - Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992) the most important difference between those adaptations and re - dracula is that these are fully rounded characters who clearly care about one another.

Jonathan adores Mina, Mina loves him, and loves Lucy. The suitor squad and Van Helsing genuinely cherish Lucy and it causes everyone palpable pain when they see her slipping away. When the group finally gets together in one place, they all acknowledge and respect the various strengths they each bring, and they hold one another up as needed.

None of the characters seem cast aside, as often happens in film adaptations. Even the 1992 film, which includes all three suitors, doesn’t manage to make them all seem like full personalities. They appear more as aspects of an individual, or as tropes. Lucy herself in the ‘92 movie is the complete opposite of her characterization in the novel. Her behavior in the film is anachronistic at best, and offensive at the least. It is a perfect illustration of the stupid and misogynistic attitude in horror that “wanton” women are punished.

Not only that, but it also completely changes the story and the dreadful implications of it. Lucy isn’t targeted because she’s “done something wrong” (quotes because I don’t believe expressing/exploring one’s sexuality is wrong, no matter what my favorite genre keeps telling me), she is targeted because she is convenient. Dracula wasn’t musing in between leaving his castle and reaching England that by golly, he couldn’t wait to terrorize Lucy Westenra! He saw an opportunity, like any other predator, and he took it.

Of course, we’ve seen that he is very willing to play with his food once he feels in control. He was very pleased to be able to torment Jonathan, yet another character who is often treated poorly in adaptations - in the 1958 version he’s so smug and patronizing toward what appears to be a terrified woman, that I was actively hoping for his death.

In contrast, the novel/Dracula Daily/re-dracula show us a sweet, earnest man, one who is gentle and loving. He, like Lucy, is a convenient victim, and like Lucy, is innocent.

The true horror is that terrible things can happen to anyone, and no amount of wealth, education, or simple good-heartedness, will act as a shield. There are no preventatives, and no one “deserves” the terrible things that happen. The real strength of the story isn’t in deciding which characters(usually women) are worthy of saving, an overly simplistic approach that many film adaptations take, some more subtly than others. The story resonates because in spite of the randomness of the horror, the people involved decide to do something about it.

These people are not always perfect or even heroic. Dr. Seward (who I really enjoy, and who is also often portrayed badly in adaptation) is not a safe person for his patients to be around. He is ableist, arrogant, patronizing, and definitely not handling his own mental health well. He is also loving, practical, loyal, and in many ways exceptionally tender-hearted. All of the cast is achingly good in their portrayals, but Johnny Sims’ interpretation of Seward has been revelatory. The man is flawed, but gosh darnit, he’s absolutely human. His pain is visceral, his awkwardness is utterly relatable, and his attempts to make things make sense is so hard to hear, because we want the awful things to be a puzzle with a logical solution, but we also know that there is no motivation for what is happening, it is all chance.

Mina herself questions why they need worry about Dracula, once he is gone from England. By this time she’s had a horrific experience with the count and understandably wants to be done with the whole thing. Earlier, however, she begins her work of compiling all the information available about Dracula, because she understands that something may need to be done, for the good of all.

She is afraid of losing her husband, she is afraid of what other horrors may wait, but she also is able to put that aside to continue to pursue stopping Dracula, so that there won’t be another victim, and so that Dracula himself might be saved from the horrific reality he’s experienced for so long.

I have been telling people ad nauseum that re-dracula is hands down the best adaptation of the novel I’ve ever encountered. It is because it is treated as a story about people, real people, with real connections to those around them, real flaws and strengths, who grow to share a bond. They swear to stop Dracula, not out of vengeance, as Jonathan can be forgiven for wanting, but out of love for those they have lost and those they may save.

[mister-mykal]

9-1-1 8x06 Thoughts on the Buck, Eddie, and Tommy of it all

Okay I have like almost no followers, which makes sense because I usually only normally lurk here. I'm also sure none of my followers are into 9-1-1 here, but I just need to scream into the void on the off chance someone sees this. None of my friends watch this show so I really just hope even just one person reads this and makes me feel a little less foolish because a lot of the discourse here is so "us vs them" and black-and-white. This is gonna be obnoxiously long, so I don't expect anyone to read all this, if any of it, but I'll put a TL;DR at the end. I will not be bashing Tommy or Eddie in this post! Also I'm typing while it's late for me and my ADHD makes me a horrible proofreader, so sorry for typos and the such.

I hate fandom drama, I cannot care less about whatever beef bucktommy stans and buddie stans have I've been trying to mostly ignore it. I'm just upset if this ends up being sloppy writing on the 9-1-1 team's part. I'm gonna try to be nuanced about how I felt about 8x06 because I feel like there is a way to do this and not completely screw the writing for either Tommy or Eddie.

Tommy does not have to be endgame, that is fine. I think Eddie is definitely more popular with the fans and plenty of people love a good slow burn. Their chemistry is also undeniable. But plenty of people enjoy Tommy too, despite his cavalcade of haters. And to have thrown away what seemed like a character arc in the making for him seems like a waste if this is the last we see of him? I hear he's going to be in at least one more episode, so I hope they do that justice. I don't need them back together, I just need this to make better sense.

I know people really hate Lou and Tommy, but I'm pretty neutral about him. (Idk how true the very little things I've see about Lou is because I keep hearing he's homophobic, misogynistic, racist, etc. but I have not be able to find any receipts. If it is true, that sucks and I get why they would try to write someone like that out of the show. However, just I'm gonna focus on it from purely a story perspective right now.) I enjoy seeing Buck happy after all the shit he's gone through in his past relationships. I was cautiously optimistic from the interviews that said he was finally "getting of the hamster wheel". But yet again, Buck loves with his whole heart and has his hopes dashed. It would have been one thing if Buck was the one who ended things, but really? This again? He doesn't need his heart broken AGAIN. I don't care who Buck ends up with, I just want him to be happy and secure with whatever partner he chooses.

Why bring back a previously established character who has some growing to do and then throw them away again? Boooo, if they wanted Buck and Eddie's queer awakening arcs to happen separately, and weren't interested in expanding Tommy's character, they should have just set up Buck with random throwaway guy. Otherwise it's just drama for the sake of drama instead of something that's in greater service to the narrative or character writing. Tommy becoming Eddie's friend first especially feels too intentional. Tommy already having established relationships with Hen, Chim, and Bobby feels too intentional.

Tommy's insecure feelings over Buck eventually choosing someone else, likely Eddie, over him is incredibly real and make sense. He's never felt like he's had a place to belong in general. He's jealous of the 118, he's jealous and threatened by Eddie's relationship with Buck. Honestly, I also wouldn't be surprised if Eddie was the one who caught his eye at first because it's not that hard to clock Eddie if we're being honest. It's pretty clear Tommy was baffled that Buck was fighting to get his attention over Eddie's. Why set up this arc and end it before it's even started? If there's a ever a starting point for Tommy to grow, it's right here and now. Otherwise it makes no sense.

At the same time, Eddie's character writing makes ZERO sense if he isn't a deeply closeted gay man (or at least asexual, but that's unlikely, especially with the way they've been positioning Buck and Eddie for the longest, and especially the way they position Eddie and the Hot That whole interaction with the hot priest and the mustache, beard, fruit juice, plenty of metaphor we all picked up on that. Never has an actual straight character said "no offense, I'm straight" like that within the context of the surrounding narrative. Like come on? Denying yourself FRUIT JUICE? Denying yourself joy?? which gay used to be a synonym for? Girl, please. And even with Josh's speech a bit? I think it's obvious enough that it could also be extended to Eddie, even though he's closer to Buck's age. Growing up Catholic is pretty rough for queer people.

On top of the fact that there are plenty of other hints while he did/does have love for Shannon, it was almost always in the context of that she is the mother of his child. He literally had a panic attack over someone mistaking Ana for his wife, and over their relationship starting to get serious. Ana is a lovely lady that most men that are attracted to women would be happy to have... so what's the issue, really? And then he only thinks about staying with her simply because she could be the new mother to his child. Be so for real.

And Eddie honestly has been pretty awful to the women he has dated, and you can either choose to read that as him being a chauvinistic, exploitative pig (doesn't really align with the rest of his character), or someone deeply in the closet who doesn't really want to be with a woman. (yeah, that's sounds more accurate.)

We can reconcile all of this though. Buck more than likely has romantic feelings for Eddie, I think it'd be silly to think otherwise, but even though Buck has figured out who he is, it doesn't mean Eddie has yet. He's made progress, but he has at least a little ways to go left. As far as Buck knows, Eddie is straight in this moment. He's never hesitated to write him off as his "best friend", while Eddie... well, he'll realize he's in love with Buck soon enough.

Still, I feel like it's a bit disingenuous to say that Buck doesn't care about Tommy at all, he is clearly hurt by the break up. At the very least, even if they don't get back together at all, they need to talk this out like adults and have Tommy explain himself better, because it's obvious Tommy has walls from from past experiences. Doesn't make it okay that he did Buck like that, but no one on this show has been perfect so... 🙄 At the very least we should get that one episode from that "See you around, Buck" (Ouch, Tommy. Though I feel like that was more so Tommy distancing himself to Buck to protect himself more than to hurt Buck.) Though just as easily, we might only ever see him here and there again on calls that require air support so who knows. 🤷🏾

There were some pretty obvious parallels set up between Abby and Tommy this episode. Abby and Tommy were both firsts for Buck, they're both around the same, older age. Both of them are experienced and life and deeply lonely, so how could they possibly turn away someone who has as much love to give as Buck does? Both of them are, seemingly, just stepping stones on Buck's way to self discovery. Buck even says it himself, he calls their relationships "transformative", but obviously because the experiences Tommy has had as an older queer man, he's probably not a stranger to beings someone's flyover until they get to their actual destination. I understand why he would want to protect himself like that.

Even if that's the case, I don't think Buck would want to leave things like this. I know in one of the interviews Oliver says Buck is be heavily considering if he wants to fight for this or not, but at the very least I hope they've shown his growth and showcase his emotional intelligence by calling out Tommy that it's not fair to him to sorta decide how he feels, even if it is Buck's first relationship with a man.

It's far from Buck's first relationship and idk, it feels a little icky to tell the bi person to go fool around a be a slut when he's said that he's tired of sleeping around and wants to settle down. That can just be a character flaw with Tommy (I've met plenty of biphobic monosexual queer people), but at the very least can't Buck call him out on it? Let them have a more mature, complete conversation and let Tommy say the quiet part aloud. At the very least, I get Tommy's intention, he doesn't want Buck to have any regrets, but I don't think he knows just how much he's hurt him and how many times he's been through the situation.

Something really upsetting, even though Tommy has had his problems and hasn't been the greatest person, really sad about any closeted queer person who's been nasty, but much of it came from circumstance, not getting a chance to grow after they literally set that up with the script. Well, you do you I guess. At the very least if Tommy is nothing more than a plot device, couldn't you have let Buck come to conclusion they should break up and give him even an ounce of power in his romantic pursuits for once? Instead of the one loving too hard and too fast and hurting from it? The interview where (I don't remember who exactly) said we wont be seeing much more of Tommy, if at all really annoys me because if this is it? Ugh. That break up didn't feel conclusive at at all.

TL;DR: Wasting a previously established character as a plot device after setting up what seemed like some sort of character arc for him even if he wasn't Buck's endgame seems like really sloppy writing if you decide to discard him back into the obscurity for the rest of the series. It feels like a cheap way to add extra drama and the implications and situations you could create from at least dragging this out a little bit more could create a more satisfying resolution to this at the very least. Why retread old ground again when you said that you wouldn't and waste all the potential you were setting this up with this scenario? It still seems unresolved, so hopefully this tie this up, regardless of who Buck ends with in the end (because the focus really should be on Buck finally getting the love and care that he deserves in a romantic relationship, or at least getting to end one amicably.)

Anyway tear me apart, ignore me, whatever. IDC anymore.

[passionateseadruid]

I am loved! I am loved!

Few things: Tad bit of Misogyny (Adam, kinda Lucifer), swearing (almost everyone), Sera, Slander (Lucifer and Lilith), extermination talk, bad people mentioned

sequel to this

Me and my husband, we are doing better.

Or at least that’s how I feel.

It had been a few centuries since you’ve been married and it seems like he’s been more tense lately. You thought to take him out to for lunch.

“Adam! Sweetheart?” You opened the door of the conference room that a small light blue elephant cherub had directed you toward. He had come with you. “Thank you silver.”

“Babe! C’mere!” Adam motioned you over. “Listen Sera my baby agrees with this.”

“Darling? Do you?”

“I completely agree with my husband. What am I agreeing with?”

“Adam thinks that it’s a good idea to kill off some of the worst sinners in hell.”

“…Adam?”

“Yeah because you’ve been spewing nonsense about the whore with some mildly entertaining curves trying to overthrow us with those sinners.”

“Her husband had a smaller waist and wider hips than she does.” You and him wheezed at that.

“True! Oh ho ho,” he panted from laughing too hard. “And this is why I love you, honey.”

“Um… so what was his idea Sera?” You asked bashfully. Adam had never publicly stated his love for you. Sure he was touchy-feely but he always blamed that on his high sex-drive when asked.

“Adam wants to train an army to kill certain sinners.”

“Only the really bad ones, like the ones we talked about.” Adam assured.

“Like the people harming children? Or those that sexually abused others?” You asked.

“Yeah! Or the really really bad killers who just slaughter tons of innocent people for no reason other than that they can!”

“Yeah Sera I agree. Not all of the souls down there would have to get involved.” You reasoned.

“No, course not.” Adam agreed.

“I don’t know, darling.” Sera looked at you both apprehensively.

“Sera, you know that people like that do not deserve to live. It was only because of Lucifer that they exist! And it is because of him that they get to roam freely!” You asserted, anger grew in you as the seconds passed thinking about Lucifer.

“…okay.”

“But! Just the very bad ones.” You warned.

“Course! I may be a “misogynist” or whatever but I’m not a monster.”

“Do you want to go get burritos now?” You grabbed his hand.

“Fuck yeah! See you later Sera!” He tossed you over his shoulder and slapped your ass.

////////////////////////////////////////

It had been a few months and Sera arranged a meeting with Lucifer.

“Sera! Please make him bring Lilith!”

“Why on earth would you want that?”

“Because then Adam and I can show them that we don’t care about them!”

“Ugh, please don’t be so immature.”

“Please Sera! Please please please!”

“Okay okay! Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t care. And don’t interrupt the meeting okay?”

“Thank you Sera!!”

////////////////////////////////////////

The day of the meeting you had picked out matching outfits for you and Adam. White robes with gold accents. You had gold jewelry in the shape of crosses. And you slipped on your wedding ring with the biggest diamond you’d (or anyone’d ever seen).

“Adam sweetheart! Cmon!”

“Babe why do we have to go?” Adam whined.

“The Morningstars will be there. Don’t you want to show them up?”

“…yes.”

“Come on then! You big baby.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Adam.”

////////////////////////////////////////

“What the fuck are they doing here?!” Lucifer shouted.

“Calm down Lucifer. Darling here overseas humanity.” Sera calmly explained.

“Why did you have to mess up all of humanity?” You glared at the two.

“And Adam was the one who came up with the idea.”

“Yeah bitch!”

“Okay… then why are they on Adam’s lap?” Lilith asked.

“Because we’re married?” You said.

“WHAT?!” The two exclaimed.

“Yeah! I can steal your bitch too Luci.”

“Hey…” You pouted at Adam.

“Don’t take it to heart! You know I think you’re a badass bitch!” He nuzzled your neck and gave you a little peck.

“Can we please just get this over with?” Lucifer asked Annoyed.

////////////////////////////////////////

After the meeting Lucifer cornered you. “You may think you’re special because you got into the pants of the first man; but you’re not. You’re just some freak with pretty privilege and that’s all you’ll ever be!”

“…” You smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I-” He just stood there stuttering like an idiot.

You purposely brushed his shoulder and said, “Keep dreaming that you could ever have this.” Not looking back as you strutted down the hall to find your husband.

“Get your hands off me!” You heard him scream. “I love my baby and you aren’t going to change that Lilith.”

“I’m sorry are we going to have a problem here?” You walked in.

“Of course not babe. The Morningstars are just trying to stir up drama.” He came over to you and you wrapped your arms around his.

“How well I know.” You turn back. “Lil, step off my man and try to get a hold on your for a change.”

‘Yes me and my husband, we are doing better.’

Taglist: @pandaquick (I am so sorry I forgot😭 would you like to be added to my new series tag list?)

[bonefall]

My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!

Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.

For secret siblings...

I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.

Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.

(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)

But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.

Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.

They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.

(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)

There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.

She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.

Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.

I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.

It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.

What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.

(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)

His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.

Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.

Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww