#i mean this is not to say that george is a better option
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shesnake · 2 years ago
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George addo lazarus project is so crazy... he did all that for a woman who in one time loop dumped him while he was having a nervous breakdown during supercovid for a guy who would push her in front of a lorrie
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wonder-worker · 8 months ago
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"[Elizabeth Woodville's] piety as queen seems to have been broadly conventional for a fifteenth-century royal, encompassing pilgrimages, membership of various fraternities, a particular devotion to her name saint, notable generosity to the Carthusians, and the foundation of a chantry at Westminster after her son was born there. ['On other occasions she supported planned religious foundations in London, […] made generous gifts to Eton College, and petitioned the pope to extend the circumstances in which indulgences could be acquired by observing the feast of the Visitation']. One possible indicator of a more personal, and more sophisticated, thread in her piety is a book of Hours of the Guardian Angel which Sutton and Visser-Fuchs have argued was commissioned for her, very possibly at her request."
-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight's Widow", Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, Dynasty
#historicwomendaily#elizabeth woodville#my post#friendly reminder that there's nothing indicating that Elizabeth was exceptionally pious or that her piety was 'beyond purely conventional'#(something first claimed by Anne Crawford who simultaneously claimed that Elizabeth was 'grasping and totally lacking in scruple' so...)#EW's piety as queen may have stood out compared to former 15th century predecessors and definitely stood out compared to her husband#but her actions in themselves were not especially novel or 'beyond normal' and by themselves don't indicate unusual piety on her part#As Laynesmith's more recent research observes they seem to have been 'broadly conventional'#A conclusion arrived at Derek Neal as well who also points out that in general queens and elite noblewomen simply had wider means#of 'visible material expression of [their] personal devotion' - and also emphasizes how we should look at their wider circumstances#to understand their actions (eg: the death of Elizabeth's son George in 1479 as a motivating factor)#It's nice that we know a bit about Elizabeth's more personal piety - for eg she seems to have developed an attachment to Westminster Abbey#It's possible her (outward) piety increased across her queenship - she undertook most of her religious projects in later years#But again - none of them indicate the *level* of her piety (ie: they don't indicate that she was beyond conventionally pious)#By 1475 it seems that contemporaries identified Cecily Neville as the most personally devout from the Yorkist family#(though Elizabeth and even Cecily's sons were far greater patrons)#I think people also assume this because of her retirement to Westminster post 1485#which doesn't work because 1) we don't actually know when she retired? as Laynesmith says there is no actual evidence for the traditional#date of 12 February 1487#2) she had very secular reasons for retiring (grief over the death of her children? her lack of dower lands or estates which most other#widows had? her options were very limited; choosing to reside in the abbey is not particularly surprising. it's a massive and unneeded jump#to claim that it was motivated solely by piety (especially because it wasn't a complete 'retirement' in the way people assume it was)#I think historians have a habit of using her piety as a GOTCHA!' point against her vilification - which is a flawed and stupid argument#Elizabeth could be the most pious individual in the world and still be the pantomime villain Ricardians/Yorkists claim she was#They're not mutually exclusive; this line of thinking is useless#I think this also stems from the fact that we simply know very little about Elizabeth as an individual (ie: her hobbies/interests)#certainly far less than we do for other prominent women Margaret of Anjou; Elizabeth of York;; Cecily Neville or Margaret Beaufort#and I think rather than emphasizing that gap of knowledge her historians merely try to fill it up with 'she was pious!'#which is ... an incredibly lackluster take. I think it's better to just acknowledge that we don't know much about this historical figure#ie: I do wish that her piety and patronage was emphasized more yes. but it shouldn't flip too far to the other side either.
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writer-logbook · 3 months ago
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How to get back into writing: a 5-steps guide
As someone who hasn't written anything in a decade, this is what I did to get back into writing seriously.
Identify which archetype of writer fits me better. You may have heard George R.R. Martin saying there are two types of writers: gardeners and architects. Whether you believe in that statement or not isn't relevant per se, but the actual meaning behind that point is that you need to get to know yourself as a writer, how you work, what you need, etc., so you can adapt your environment to achieve your goals. Speaking of which…Gentle reminder : you're a person not a robot. You are allowed to work the way you want to, and not to follow whatever pieces of advice that are linked to these archetypes.
Set a realistic word count/session I can stick to over the long term. When you're a 9-6 office employee, it's not always easy to find time to write and sometime our day at work got the very best of us. Having that in mind, I set my word count up to 200-500 words per session or 1 chapter per week (they're rather small in my case). Gentle reminder : babysteps are better than no-step at all.
If I'm not writing, fine, I'll do some research or anything else. Your story will always require something from you. When I'm not in the mood for writing, there are two options : forcing myself or doing what I call para-writing. For instance it's : reading articles or books about improving my writing style, improving my worldbuilding, drawing a map of my city etc. This are not things that would appear in the novel but it would guide me throughout the process the way a walking-stick would do for an injured man. Gentle reminder : you always find something useful to do but at the end of the day, you still have to write.
Have a general idea of what I want to tell. I won't lie, I've plotted my entire novel from the very beginning to the very end, which means I know exactly what to write and when. If you're against having a defined plot, I'm no one to judge, but having at least the key events or the major points will definitely help you. Like a lighthouse, it will help you navigate through the mists of confusion or hesitation. Gentle reminder : It's better to know where to go even if you end up losing yourself along the journey. Having the map doesn't mean you have to follow it, but rather when you can allow yourself to take a step to the side.
Write something I enjoy. A bit cliché I admit, but it's the best advice I could give. You'll spend hours, days, weeks - even years !- on that story so better buckle up to something you really want to write. Otherwise the risk is to abandon that hard-work you've done halfway through the process. No one needs that frustration and that self-doubting questionnings. No one. Not you. Not even me. Gentle reminder : it's okay to want readers and reviews but I promise you, your writing will be really different on something you trully want to share...Remember how pissful it was to write an essay for class you didn't want to ?
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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 8 months ago
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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 2
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Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, underage drinking, ED mentions.
Parts
Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6
Regina doesn’t say a word to you, or even glance your way.
She storms in and throws her bag down onto the bed next to yours, sweeping your clothes onto the floor with her hand. You open you mouth to protest but she cuts you off.
“Not a word, loser.”
Loser means she hasn’t got anything specific against you. No blackmail material, no weird rumours. Loser is a good place to be.
You sit on your bed and watch in silence as she starts to replace the pillows on the bed with her own pink pillows and satin blanket. She takes up over half the drawers for her own clothes, moving yours into a single pile at the bottom of the shared wardrobe. She puts her makeup and toothbrush, both varying shades of pink in the bathroom. She’s marking her territory.
“Don’t touch my shit.” She scowls, flips her hair and swiftly leaves the cabin. Her faint vanilla scent lingers in the air. It’s both intoxicating and sickly.
You wait a few minutes before you leave too, just to make sure you don’t accidentally bump into her and make yourself a target. The last thing you want is to be Regina’s plaything of the week.
Todays activity would be orienteering. You stand around the campfire pit, avoiding the crowd, waiting for instruction on where to go.
“Please stay in your room groups, follow the map you’ve been given. You’ll be taken to where your group will be starting, just follow the map back to camp. Everyone understand?”
There are excited chatters as everyone groups up with their friends. Unfortunately for you, the crowd parts to reveal Regina who’s giving you a look like she might murder you in the woods and leave you there.
You wait, in silence, next to Regina, for a camp member to pick you up in a jeep and drive through the forest to your particular starting point.
“Please don’t make me, don’t leave me here. I’m too pretty for this” Regina whines as the keep drives away, leaving you both stranded in a clearing.
Against better judgement you decide to speak. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Karen and Gretchen.”
“Whatever, just give me the map.” She snaps and snatches it from your hands. Wordlessly she stomps off through the trees. You have no option but to follow like a lost puppy.
As it happens, Regina isn’t a great map reader. And lots of the forest looks identical which makes it even harder. Your feet start to ache, you feel like you’ve been walking in circles for the past couple of hours.
“Can I please just look quickly, I trust you know where we’re going but I think I should still just look at the map” you try to reason which was clearly an awful move because she starts to turn around slowly to face you.
She moves,she’s stalking you like prey as she comes towards you.
“Are you calling me dumb?” She growls.
You shake your head, suddenly unable to speak, afraid that any sound past your lips would make her pounce.
“I’m reading the map, loser. I don’t want to be stuck out here any longer than necessary.” She spins around and continues her forward march through the forest.
This is going to be a long day.
It’s been hours since you or Regina said a word to each other, and hours since you started walking. You hadn’t stopped for a break. You managed to eat an apple while you walked, throwing the core into a bush but Regina hadn’t taken her hands off of the map to eat, drink or give you a look at where you were going.
You felt for your box of cigarettes in your pocket. Regina probably wouldn’t turn around or notice, and you needed one now, Regina is really starting to test your patience. Just as you put the cigarette to your lips ready to light ,Regina’s knee buckles and she trips slightly, heading straight for the ground.
Instinctively you go to catch her, both hands under her arms.
“Get off me weirdo.” She barks but it comes out a little more strained than usual. She’s gone pale and there’s a sheen of sweat across her perfect forehead. Somehow she’s still effortlessly beautiful.
She pushes herself up and tries to keep walking but her legs start to falter again and you rush forward again and catch her as she faints.
You try calling her name, shaking her gently, offering her water but nothing brings her round. Her hands feel cold.
Fuck.
In a panic you call the emergency number a teacher had given you and someone says they’ll come to collect you both in a jeep and administer first aid.
Regina comes round before the jeep arrives and you can feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off her. You try and think of something to say. She doesn’t speak to you the entire way back.
Everyone stares as they see you both come back to camp after being picked up but Regina plays it off well, bragging that she even gets treated like royalty here. You admire her ability to make quick excuses, and to be honest she still looks like royalty. Beautiful blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, icy blue eyes, sweet vanilla scent, outfit still perfect. Only you noticed the lingering sweat, the nervous look in her eye and the slight grass stain on the back of her jacket.
When the car stops Regina gets out and immediately goes to find Gretchen and Karen to sit together for dinner. Half of you is glad she’s gone, she was starting to get irritating, but you also want to make sure she’s okay. You go back to the table you were at before, you can’t help but watch her again.
Just making sure she’s okay, you repeat to yourself.
This time you watch her eat closely, notice she picks up food and when her friends aren’t looking and drops it under the bench onto the dusty floor. You wonder if that’s why she fainted earlier. You’re not sure why the thought of that makes you angry, and a knot forms in your stomach. It makes it hard to finish your food.
When dinner is over the teachers watch the three girls closely, making sure they go back to their newly assigned cabins. All three comply which means there’s a moody Regina heading your way.
You sit on your bed and pretend not to hear the door open, and keep your eyes fixed on your phone, pretending to read or maybe scroll social media.
The giveaway is that you forgot to let out the breath you were holding.
“If you tell anyone what happened I will ruin your life.”
You just nod, not daring to look up at her until you hear her lay on her bed and roll so she’s facing the wall away from you.
Then you allow your eyes to look at the sleeping lioness, her breathing seems slow. Maybe she’s asleep.
Your eyes trace down her curves- that is dangerous territory. You look away sharply just incase somehow she knows you’re looking.
She’s probably asleep.
You reach over to your bag and try and pull out your switch as quietly as possible. Mario kart, that’ll take your mind off of Regina.
You’re on your third lap when you feel the bed move and smell that addicting, warm vanilla scent.
“What is that you’re playing, dweeb?” It’s like she can’t even ask a normal question without it being insulting.
“Mario kart? Have you never played Mario kart?” You question her, meeting her gaze which seems slightly less intense than usual. To be honest, you can’t really picture someone like Regina playing a dorky game like Mario.
You disconnect the joy cons and throw one at her. She gives you a wary, icy look and picks up one of the controllers, scooting closer while still maintaining a large gap between you both.
You’re disappointed for some reason.
She obviously picks peach, and the pinkest cart, completely ignoring its stats which makes you giggle to yourself. You play as Bowser.
The first race you explain the controls to her, she picks it up quite quickly but you have years of experience on her and win.
She pouts and sends a glare your way. You stick your tongue out.
She giggles, Regina giggles and it might be the best sound you’ve heard. You definitely want to hear more. She doesn’t seem threatening like this. How much of Regina was an act?
The second race, she loses again, you win but not by too much, she’s definitely getting better. When you look over at her, her brows are furrowed and she’s completely lost in the game now, determined to win. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating makes you blush, and you’re glad she doesn’t look up.
The third game is nearly neck and neck but you beat her again. She finally snaps.
“What the fuck, you gave me a shit controller! I could have beat you!” She yells.
“Not my fault you suck at Mario kart.” You quip back bravely. She also sucks at losing apparently.
Suddenly she springs up and pounces, desperately trying to grab the controller off of you, but you hold on. You nearly forget why you’re holding it, mostly you’re squeezing the controller to distract yourself from Regina’s hair tickling your face, her lips being so close, her knees either side of your thighs.
She puts up a good fight but you start to see that familiar sheen of sweat and she seems cold and clammy all of a sudden. She must notice this because she huffs out a whatever and gets up, wobbling to her bed.
You miss everything about her suddenly, that one hit of the real Regina was enough to have you addicted.
She lays again, but this time face up, trying to control her breathing. You realise she’s on the verge of passing out again.
“I have a cereal bar in my bag, I don’t want it, you’re welcome to have it.”
She huffs and looks at you.
“I’m not accepting food from anyone after that stunt Cady Heron pulled. Who knows, you might be giving me a bar of lard.” She spits, but you can tell even speaking is hard for her now.
“It was just an offer.” You reply quietly.
Once she’s steadied herself again she stands and rummage through her bag, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka and 2 plastic cups. She pours 2 shots worth into both and fills it with a fizzy orange mixer. She hands you a cup.
“You better not get too drunk and puke and get me into trouble like Karen.” She says as she takes a sip.
You both drink in silence for a while. The alcohol makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and a little too calm in Regina’s presence.
“Why don’t I know you?” Regina suddenly breaks the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not a new student, so why don’t I know you, I don’t know what you’re about.” She leans towards you like she’s inspecting you.
“I don’t know I just stay out of the drama.” You answer truthfully.
“Huh, boring answer.” She says taking another drink. “You’re friends with Pyro Lez though, that’s not exactly staying out of it.”
You shake your head “I only started hanging with them after that whole mess. Me and Janis have a mutual interest.”
“Is it girls?”
You stutter for a moment and see a glimpse of intrigue flash across Regina’s face.
“It’s art.”
You haven’t lied. That’s what connected you and Janis in the first place, it was a lucky dodge to the question.
She’s staring at you with an unreadable expression and you decide to stand awkwardly and get your cigarettes. You need a break from Regina, this feels all too much like she’s trying to uncover your weak spot.
It’s hard to tell what’s genuine or not.
You sneak outside to your spot from last night and light the cigarette, inhaling deeply, mostly from the butterflies in your stomach, bouncing around your rib cage.
Obviously you noticed Regina at school, who didn’t? But you’ve never had this much interaction with her. You can see why people fall victim to her so easily, there’s a side to her that seems so real, Is this part of her trap? Maybe you’re just easy prey but the chase is feeling all too thrilling.
Everything about her draws you in, golden hair, soft lips, even her scent. Are her lips as soft as they look?
Before you can register, the cigarette is pulled from your lips as you see Regina take a drag and then place it back between your fingers.
You skin burns where her hand brushes yours.
Suddenly she reaches to grip your hand, steadying herself. She clearly feels faint again. She’s swaying slightly and she looks like she’s losing focus.
“You need to eat something.” You state bluntly.
“Whatever you don’t know me.” She spits back, but she’s still gripping your hand. She starts to lean a bit too much.
“Fuck, Regina. Okay we’re going back inside.” You have to half drag her back inside the cabin and prop her up on the bed.
You check the cabins mini fridge, you brought enough food to sustain you that week. You didn’t know if the camp would have vegan food so better safe than sorry. Luckily the cabin had a mini fridge, probably for drinks but you stored some meals in there to keep fresh, and there was a microwave in the small kitchen.
You grab a pot and throw it in the microwave. Hopefully Regina doesn’t mind mushrooms.
She’s still laying on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. You feel momentarily guilty for drinking with her, you knew she hadn’t eaten, it was a bad idea.
The microwave pings and you grab a fork and take it over to Regina.
“I’m not eating that, it’s probably processed shit.” It comes out as a defeated sigh.
“I made it, just eat something please, passing out wouldn’t be a good look” This makes her think, and she picks up the fork and takes a bite. The whole time she’s glaring at you so you decide to sit on the bed and play on your switch again.
You don’t look up for a good half an hour. Worried that Regina will stop eating if you so much as move. Clearly the whole thing with Cady has made her wary of food. The thought makes you feel sick. The plastics may rule the school but the constant insecurity that seems to come with it is too big of a price to pay.
A quiet voice breaks the silence.
“Thank you.”
You smile slightly but still don’t look up from your game until you hear shuffling and Regina is holding your sketchbook before you have time to snatch it back.
Your heart is in your throat, you’re not sure why her possible criticism of your sketch bothers you so much.
“This is beautiful.”
You’re beautiful, you idiot why don’t you see it, you think, but don’t say it out loud.
She tears the page from your book. Great, Back to cruel Regina, tearing up anything she doesn’t see as worthy.
What you don’t expect is her folding and placing the sketch under her pillow.
“I’m tired now.” She yawns and climbs into bed, flicking the lamp next to her off.
You’re left in the dark, confused, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your lips.
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odinsblog · 7 months ago
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“I'm observing such a huge gap between different social groups that I didn't even realize were different. I, you know, most of my friends are in the media. A lot of my journalist friends are just much better informed.
A lot of them have had experience reporting in Israel, Palestine, and are quite critical of both Israel and the antisemitism narrative. Then, like, my wife is a lawyer, and her circle is a little bit different, right? It's not dominated by media people, like people in the law or in other professions seem to be broadly much more kind of taken by the sense of profound insecurity and shift in the American Jewish experience.
I think we sort of see different things, for example, when we watch the hearings in Congress on antisemitism on campus.
The university presidents, of which there have now been two hearings, one with three presidents, one with the president of Colombia, and there will be many, many more. And what I see is a right-wing campaign against higher education that is weaponizing antisemitism as an idea, right? Not antisemitism as a practice.
And what they see is, with the possible exception of the president of Colombia, is people who represent institutions or lead institutions that they feel an affinity with, often institutions that they graduated from, who are not standing up for them. Which I find that viewing of those hearings somewhat shocking because people seem to be turning off their critical faculties. But people, intelligent, educated, politically astute people don't turn off their critical faculties unless they're scared.
So I think the underlying fear is real. But just because it's real, it doesn't mean it's justified.
I think a factual account of what we're seeing on campuses now is that this generation of Americans is far more critical of Israel than their parents' generation. And this is true of both Jews and non-Jews. I think that they look at information available to them and they see a 57-year brutal illegal occupation.
And they don't understand how it's possible that their parents and the politicians that their parents support and the politicians who come and give commencement addresses and all that other stuff that I can say about politicians, how it is possible that these people support that state? I think that is an entirely understandable view. It also reflects a huge generation gap.
I think some of those young people are assholes, and some of them are antisemites. I think it's a small minority of the protesters, and it is not actually part of the critique. The protesters' demands, the protesters' organizing beliefs are not in any way or shape antisemitic.
And then there are Jewish students who were brought up Zionist, who were brought up to identify strongly with the state of Israel, who are, I think, a little bit like my cousin in the settlements again. They see these protests, and even probably the participation of their fellow Jewish students in these protests, as threatening their core identity, as threatening their ties to their families, as threatening everything that they were taught for the first 18 years of their lives is true. And of course they feel rattled, of course they feel unsettled, of course they feel threatened.
Like, wouldn't you, if you felt that everything you had believed in was being turned on its head, and if you, by apparently reasonable people? And so you have a couple of options. One is to look at what the protestors are saying, to engage with the facts, to engage with the critique of everything you've ever believed.
There was a terrific, George Curran's podcast a couple of weeks ago with three Columbia students, one of whom sort of narrated that kind of trajectory, getting to university and finding this stuff out and having their mind blown. That's a very difficult path, and it's a very difficult path, especially if you are, say, a first year student in 23, 24.
And then there's the easier path of staying integrated in your community, in your beliefs, and saying this is antisemitic.
Because unfortunately the things that the protestors are talking about are so horrible that you can't say, okay, let's agree to disagree, that you can't hold both of these things in your mind at the same time.
You can't continue to hold your family's uncritical, long-standing support of Israel, and an understanding of what is happening in Gaza and the occupation that has preceded the war in Gaza.
So yeah, of course they feel rattled. That doesn't mean that they're being surrounded by antisemitism.”
—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses campus protests (part 3 of 3)
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ashdreams2023 · 6 months ago
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Hiii hope you're having a great day<33
I was wondering if you could write a Draco Malfoy x reader fic with him being jealous and it has some angst but ends in fluff. Byee<3
Sure sweetie!
Draco Malfoy x fem reader
Selfish
You never knew what to label what you and Draco had, whenever people asked what you were to each other you couldn’t quite say you were a couple but you didn’t get physical or step over what you may consider normal physical touch for friends but he also flirted with you in public, held your hand when going out in a weekend.
But he always made that one expression when people assumed you were his girlfriend, a look of irritation and almost embarrassment.
You acted like it didn’t bother you, it wasn’t like you were really his girlfriend…but you also weren’t against the idea…
It was around the fourth year, the year the ball was held, everyone was looking for dates and Draco had already asked Daphne and she said yes, you couldn’t be mad or displeased though, he had already told you he would ask you if only he options rejected him or had dates already.
It was basically a slap in the face that you weren’t even considered a real options, you were just plain old you.
Well…screw him…you actually have been asked to the ball and you said yes!
George Weasley…yes a Weasley, you expected him to make fun of you and say you’re out of your mind…at least George didn’t make you cry…
"Him? You could do so much better I’m honestly disappointed"
"Well excuse me for not being as gorgeous as Daphne to be asked by someone better!"
He looked startled at the outburst and frowned "I didn’t say you were ugly…Merlin what’s gotten into you? Did that dumb lion drug you or something?"
Draco was an idiot and you were a fool to think he would care "you’re the fucking worst Draco Malfoy!" You ran out of that room refusing to let him see you cry.
You dogged Draco like the pledge for days up until the ball night, you got ready alone, not feeling you can go and celebrate like any team thee girl in the darn school.
The dress you wore was your older sister’s dress, it was supposed to be saved for a special occasion…you wanted to feel special like every other girl…
Blue was his favorite color, you dress was blue, sparkling and cut in a really nice flattering way, you should’ve felt amazing, and you did, you felt great when gorege called pretty and when you walked in and some of your classmates stared in awe at you.
Then you saw him, he glanced up at your direction, his eyes widening but he never spoke and instead took his date and left with his date to dance.
You felt heavy in the chest but chose to hide your discomfort and dance the night away or at least avoid him.
You realized two things that night, your date might have made you laugh but you couldn’t sit in silence and enjoy the dancing itself…something Draco was doing.
When the slow dancing began you couldn’t stand it anymore, he wouldn’t stop talking and you felt so irritated which resulted in you sitting down and him deciding it wasn’t worth the fight and went to goof off with his friends.
"I told you so" Draco’s voice rang in your ear as he walked towards you, his date nowhere to be seen.
You didn’t feel like replying to him and kept watching the other couples dance. Draco seemed offended by you ignoring and pulled a chair and sat directly in front of you.
"I told you this was a ridiculous idea, now look at you, pouting in sparkling dress that you won’t ever again, over a guy that didn’t have the decency to walk you back to your dorm-"
"At least I was an option" You snapped standing up and storming out the bloody ball room, how could he be so mean to you?!
You ran until you reached one of the trees near the forest, stupid Draco, stupid Weasley and stupid feelings.
"You’re the most unbelievable girl in the world! What has gotten into you!" He bloody followed.
You turned around with tears running down your face, you felt so ugly, so pathetic and so… vulnerable "me?! I’m unbelievable?! You…you damn idiot! My night is ruined and nobody here seems to care! You keep telling me I told you so and my date isn’t as charming as I hoped him to be…I’m a joke! I’m as pathetic as granger on the stupid stairs"
Draco clenched his fists "Yes you do look pathetic and yes Weasley was the furthest from Prince Charming and…and I should have asked you"
Your lip trembled as tears kept going down your soft cheeks "But you didn’t…I wasn’t even an option…I hate you so much"
"…you don’t mean that…look I…" Draco’s cheeks flushed red "You could’ve had anyone, it would’ve been a waste to invite you!" He stepped closer.
"A waste? I waited for you until the last minute then you went asked Daphne! Why couldn’t you just ask me first?!" You cried pushing him back.
"Because I was angry! Ok! I was jealous! I thought if I gave you the fails idea that I’ll ask you no one would dare come and take you! I’m selfish ok! I didn’t want you to go with anyone and I was gonna break up with Daphne the night before the ball then that idiot Weasley asked you!"
You felt breathless, within seconds your emotions shifted from to frustration to confusion and now…disbelief.
"I need to leave I-" you took a step back and almost tripped on your back but he caught you by your waist.
"Don’t hate, I can’t stay sane if you hate me…I know you can’t stand the sight of me now but please, I’m begging you" his ice blue eyes softened, his breath hit your flushed face and all you could think about is how close he was holding you.
"I…you hurt me but…I could never truly hate you" you blinked a few tears away and rested your head on his shoulder.
"I’m thankful…care for a dance? Daphne has two left feet and I could appreciate someone who can match my pace"
You chuckled breathlessly and nodded "sure…you still owe me though" Draco nods, rests his hands on your waist and moves from side to side, with the faint music coming from inside the castle you two dance under the moonlight, it might’ve not been a perfect night from the start but it sure ended in a memorable grace.
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brrmian · 7 months ago
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something that so many star wars fans somehow fail to realize is that george lucas always intended for the fall of the republic to be a completely unavoidable tragedy. that’s what makes it such brilliant storytelling.
placing the blame on just one party in the galaxy-wide farce that was the clone wars just isn’t interpreting the story the way its writer intended. neither is saying that all players should be held equally accountable. i don’t think the jedi were at fault for the state of the republic, and (despite the fact that he did horrible things) neither was anakin, on a galactic or governmental scale.
the real villain is palpatine, who shaped the government into a corrupt system by his own hand. the blame for turning a democratic republic into an authoritarian dictatorship (which it was long before it became the empire) under the noses of thousands of incredibly corrupt politicians must be placed entirely on him, and him alone.
by the end of the war, the jedi council recognized that they had already lost the ability to hold onto what it truly means to be a jedi. in their prime during the days of the old republic, the jedi knights were “the guardians of peace and justice.” they’re meant to as diplomats, peacekeepers, mediators, and public servants. when the clone wars began, they were essentially forced into being soldiers, generals, and quasi-politicians by palpatine and the senate. all of those things are antithetical to the jedi’s beliefs, but they had no other choice.
placing even the smallest bit of blame on the jedi for anything leading to the republic’s downfall—and their own—is not only unfair, it’s factually incorrect. the jedi order is a monastic organization. they have no say in the senate and no voting power. saying they’re corrupt, when in fact they were just as conned by palpatine as the rest of the galaxy, is victim-blaming and scapegoating.
palpatine shoved the jedi face first into fighting the war, and pretty much threw the clone army into their laps on top of that. the jedi had no say in the matter, and they certainly had no say in the war itself being started, either. because he controlled both sides, palpatine was able to make the CIS and the republic declare war on each other even though its citizens wanted the same outcome: political independence and survival. if not for palpatine’s schemes, the separatists would have been allowed to secede peacefully, the republic would have continued existing, and the war would have been completely avoided. but that was unfortunately not the case.
so in a galaxy thrown into an unavoidable war by its own secret dictator, with an army of sentient slaves suddenly at their command, and the risk of billions of deaths at the hands of the droid army imminently approaching, what do the galaxy’s official peacekeepers have no other choice but to do? be peacekeepers. why wouldn’t the sworn defenders of the galaxy be out on the battlefields trying to end the war? if they sat in the temple and did nothing, they simply wouldn’t be jedi.
the jedi were forced into a lose/lose situation. every religion and organization has faults, but that doesn’t place any blame on them for the catch-22 they were trapped into falling for. when the clone wars started—and the key point here is that it never should have in the first place—the jedi still needed to be jedi. unfortunately for them, that meant having positions of power not meant for them being thrust upon their shoulders. they couldn’t drop the burden, because that meant actively choosing not to save lives—but the other option, becoming soldiers despite the tenet of their beliefs that dictates they shouldn’t, was no better.
see what a cruel trap palpatine set? it’s like a fish being caught in a fisherman’s net. the net is spread out across the ocean floor, and the fish swim above it, not knowing that the trap is waiting to be drawn in around them from below. in the end, when the net starts to tighten, dragging them closer to the surface, they can’t swim fast enough to escape from the middle to the edge—and to safety—before the net is completely tied. it’s the cruelest kind of trap: the kind that gives you just the right amount of time to think you can escape while being sprung just quick enough to make actually escaping impossible.
in the end, the order actively chose to fight the war because they needed to. there was no other way to continue on as who they were. militarizing the order was not the right choice in a vacuum, but this was not that; this was a situation in which every galaxy-changing choice was the wrong one. the jedi knew they were making a decision that drew them farther away from their beliefs, but it was the lesser of an infinite list of evils, and they didn’t see the walls closing in on them until it was too late.
lucas himself has even said that the order was not corrupt or decaying from the inside, nor did they make a series of bad choices that ultimately led to their own destruction. they were always just trying to do the right thing—but unlike literally everything else in fiction, the jedi order’s death was completely unaffected by any of the choices they made. no matter what they did, they were always going to lose. the fall of the republic wasn’t caused by its defenders choosing what they saw as the least bad choice. it didn’t come down to any decisions, political or not, that the jedi council made with the limited tools that they had. it certainly didn’t come down to one emotionally unstable twenty-three-year-old’s slow descent into insanity, either. the republic and the jedi would still have been destroyed with or without anakin’s unhinged nervous breakdown.
anakin, just like the order, the republic, and the separatists, was taken advantage of by palpatine. even if a person’s choices are their own, they don’t exist in a vacuum.
anakin would have made better choices if not for palpatine, but he didn’t. the jedi order would have kept the peace if not for palpatine, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t. the republic, and democracy with it, would not have crumbled if not for palpatine. not the order, not anakin, not the separatists, and not the republic.
in the end, they were all just pawns in a decades-spanning plan, one that none of them saw coming until it was too late—and by then, it was already irreversible.
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smusherina · 8 months ago
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yard work - chapter 3 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4
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"So, have you heard of the new girl?" Regina asked, twirling a lock of hair on her finger.
You were still sitting on the couch several hours later. It was beginning to get dark.
"Caty Heron or something?"
"Cady, yes. What do you think of her?" Regina bit her bottom lip, sucking it and chewing at it in her mouth. Back when you were younger, her mom would've chastised her. Mrs George was lax about a lot of things, but she could not stand fidgeting. Nowadays, though, you doubted she had the heart to say anything negative to her daughter.
"I..." You tilted your head, thinking. "I don't really think of her. We're in the same calc class and she seems smart. Talks to Aaron a lot."
"Does she?" Regina narrowed her eyes and huffed. "I thought so."
"What? Don't tell me you're still hung up on Aaron Samuels. C'mon." You scoffed. "That dude, pretty as he is-" You knocked at your head. "All fluff, no substance. Hollow."
"Oh, because you would know so much about guys." Regina crossed her arms and stared at you petulantly.
"Yes, I would. I'm practically one of them." You shrugged nonchalantly. "By the way, shouldn't you get home?"
Regina didn't answer and just looked at you. You looked back, unsure of what she was thinking. You glanced around, wondering if you'd missed something.
"You're still- I mean, you're... A lesbian." She said slowly as if it were a curse word.
You laughed before answering. "Yes, Regina, I am still a lesbian. Just like I told you I was back then." You frowned. "Is there, like, a problem?"
"No." She said simply, but it didn't seem particularly truthful. "You don't know about what happened with Janis, then?"
"No, I just know she had to switch schools. Why, was it something you did?"
"No." Again, didn't seem too truthful. "I don't have a problem with you being a lesbian."
Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about it. Still, something was off. You were almost certain Regina had had something to do with Janis leaving. She was probably lying to you.
"You're not going home for dinner then." Better to drop it for now. It wouldn't do either of you any good to push her. "Will your dad be mad?"
"As if he even notices I'm gone," She rolled her eyes, settling more comfortably on the couch. "He's always on the phone."
"I have frozen pizzas we could pop in the oven."
"I'm not eating that processed shit. We're ordering in."
"Reg, I can't order takeout 'til dad sends me more money."
"I'm paying, dummy, don't even worry about it." She pushed off the couch and walked to the kitchen. You trailed after her. "Where are the menus?"
"There should be some in the cabinet over there."
The evening turned to night with you two on the couch, chatting and eating pizza. The TV was turned on eventually. Adult Swim was playing some anime about cowboys in space, but neither of you was really watching.
You'd missed her so much. You didn't like thinking about it much, but that was the truth. You'd missed her for even longer than the two years you'd been officially cut off from her life. She'd started pulling away long before the silent treatment began. You didn't like thinking about how much it had hurt, how you'd felt your world go bleak when she rejected you. You'd never been one for confrontation, that was Regina's job, so talking to her about the why and how of it all had never felt like an option.
You'd eventually gotten the hint. And now, after all this time, after she had left you so easily, you were letting her back in just as easily. As if you were back in that time, sitting in the sandbox peacefully making castles when she came up behind you, pulled at one of your pigtails, and demanded you share your buckets and shovel. You were helpless against her force.
There was probably something deeply unhealthy about your friendship. She was probably only coming back because it was convenient for her. She wasn't interested in making amends- hell, she probably didn't even think there was anything to amend, in the first place.
This had been the way you two had been since forever. Her ploughing through anybody in her way, you clinging to her as she went, just as much of a victim and a perpetrator.
The Regina you missed was the impression of a girl, braces on her teeth, grass stains on her sundress, and laughter on her lips. The Regina that perhaps, maybe, probably was still hidden somewhere in her, but at the same time was just not her. Who she was now, who you were now, were so utterly different from back then.
Watching her face, illuminated blueish by the light from the TV, so much older but still soft and young, framed by naturally blonde hair but bleached a lighter shade, you made your peace. You were probably being way too dramatic about all this, but it felt like a big moment in your half-baked teenage brain. You would take her back every time. You would let her leave every time. You would stay in place while she explored the world, and if she deigned to come back, you'd be waiting.
"Hey, Reg," You said, quiet but not exactly a whisper.
"What?" She looked up at you, just bent over the coffee table grabbing another slice of pizza.
"I missed you." You said, so earnestly it sounded jarring to even your ears.
She scrunched up her nose. "'Cause I bought you pizza?"
"Yeah," You laughed. "That too."
If you hadn't been looking so closely, you might've missed the brief lapse in her armour. It was in the softening at the corners of her eyes, in the slackening of her face, the give in her spine. Something like affection, like she'd missed you too.
"You're a weirdo."
You only laughed more.
The moment passed and you continued eating and talking and watching TV. You must've fallen asleep at some point after Regina went to remove her makeup. Eventually, you couldn't tell when, you woke up to the sun shining through the blinds right into your eyes.
Shit. It was Monday. You pawed around yourself for your phone, flipped it open, and checked the time. Shit, indeed. You nudged Regina with your toe.
"Reg..." She didn't even stir. "Reg!" You pushed harder, causing her to groan and whine.
"What? Five... M're mins..." She mumbled into the cushion, curling up tighter.
"We're late for school, Reggie, c'mon we gotta go." You momentarily contemplated if it was worth even going in. Your dad would be busting a lung at the missed calc class anyway. But did you want to give him more reasons to yell at you? No, not really.
"I gotta go, c'mon." You moved towards her and really shook her.
"What?" She grumped at you. To be honest, it was really cute. She had dust around her eyes, sleep still lingering in her limbs. You'd touched her shoulder, covered by the knit blanket you'd given her last night, but you could feel how warm she was.
"School. It's Monday morning, sleepyhead."
It took no more than that for the reality to set in for her. Cursing up a storm and running around like a headless chicken, Regina tried gathering all her things that'd somehow ended up scattered around the night before. Her perfume was in the alcove by the front, her charger in the kitchen, hairbrush in the bathroom.
"Do you want a ride?" You asked before heading upstairs to change. Couldn't go to school in just Spiderman boxers.
"I have nothing to wear!" She screeched, glaring at you as if you'd caused this. She was the one who wanted to stay the night, jeez.
You held up your hands in surrender. "You can borrow some of my stuff."
"As if you have anything remotely fitting. You dress like a hobo." She said all that while climbing up the stairs past you, heading for your room. "A hobo with a liking to grunge music, nonetheless."
You walked after her, listening but not feeling the need to add anything. Once she got to your door and you went to follow, she whirled around.
"Uh, I'm gonna change." She sassed, though the intimidation was made less effective by the bareness of her face and the messiness of her hair. You smiled and gestured for her to go on.
"Be my guest." As if she needed the invitation.
To her credit, it didn't take long for her to pick something to wear, wash her face, and do her hair. In the meantime, you used the hallway bathroom to freshen up yourself. She stepped out wearing the same white tank top as the night before, over it a short-sleeve button-down in a glossy, satin black, and a black skirt she'd probably found at the very back of your closet. The button-down was neatly cinched around her waist and the skirt discreetly rolled up to be shorter than it really was.
The shirt was probably the nicest thing you owned. Something a relative had gotten you for your birthday. Versace or something like that.
"I'm going to have to go to school in sneakers, jorts." She pointed at you accusingly, leaning over threateningly where you sat on the floor. You looked up at her and just shrugged. What could you do?
She rolled her eyes and waved you away. You took the cue that it was your turn. You didn't bother closing the door behind you. Some wash jeans from the back of your desk seemed clean enough. You sniffed them just in case. Not too funky, but definitely not fresh. They'd have to do. You chucked the hoodie, sprayed on some deodorant, and replaced it with a short-sleeve flannel. You looked into the mirror and checked your hair was okay before grabbing your backpack.
"Okay, let's go." You turned to see Regina staring at you incredulously.
"That's it? That's your morning routine?" Leaning against the doorway, you couldn't help but notice she looked fantastic. It was a real talent of hers, looking so good all the time.
"Usually, I'd eat breakfast." You herded her out of the door. "Do you need to get your things?" She probably didn't have any of her school stuff.
"No, I didn't unpack my purse before coming here." She said, checking said bag as she did. "I'll do my makeup in the car, drive sensibly."
"Psh, as if you need to tell me. You're the speed demon, from what I've heard."
"There's nothing wrong with the way I drive, grandma."
"Until you get your license revoked, speedster."
Needless to say, Regina was not impressed by your 2001 Corolla. And though she complained the whole way to school, she still sat in the front seat, doing her makeup, there was no heat behind her words. You arrived in the middle of the third period. Nobody was out and about, much to Regina's relief. You parted ways with a wiggle of her fingers and a finger salute from you. You sat in the car for a moment, just breathing and thinking.
She didn't say thank you, didn't say she had a good time, didn't even bother pretending she'd enjoyed your company. It seemed like a relief she was finally getting away from you. Was that how she felt?
Now that your friendship had progressed beyond small talk while you worked and pleasantries over dinner, being ignored at school felt a lot more hurtful.
It was sobering, how she could goss and laugh with you on your couch and then act as if being seen with you in public was social suicide.
What made it feel even worse was that it was true. If Regina was seen hanging around you, god knows what the piranhas that were the student body would do. It would end with either or both of you ostracized or worse. Regina could bend minds and shift opinions like it was a superpower, but even she had her limits.
You got out of the car, locked it, and ambled towards Spanish class.
Notes:
Comment/reply to this post if you want to be added to the taglist.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie
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angstyx · 2 years ago
Note
one where the reader donates some money to get a tts message to play? (gender neutral, wilbur, fundy, and karl or more if you can ^^)
Reactions to You Donating to Them
Includes: George, Wilbur Soot, Fundy, Karl, Tommy, Sapnap
TW: cursing, small cringe? idk
Requested?: [Yes] [No]
Note: i didnt know if you wanted platonic or romantic so i did a mix of them
also ngl this was fun and i had a bunch of ideas so let me know if you want a part 2
and hey, been a while hasn’t it? This has been finished for a while I just didn’t feel like posting it
Masterlist // Rules for Requesting ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
George
« [username] donated $10! » “hi babe can do me a favor and go get the food I just ordered <33"
he's literally so confused from how random the message was
you knew he was streaming so of course you had to tease him
chat is laughing and telling george to listen to you and to go get the food
"[name]... you're literally in the room next to mine. You could get it yourself."
« [username] donated $10! » “shhh don't expose me like that and fyi im binge watching my favorite show rn so i'm busy"
literally deadpans at the camera
"[name] i'm literally streaming right now"
« [username] donated $15! » "aw okay :(( well no mcdonalds for you then... and i was hoping i could feed you too </3 "
blushes from your teasing
chat is going wild. i repeat. chat is going wild
[dsmp_fan] "george listen to [name] and get the mcdonalds so they can feed it to you >:/"
in the end he gave in and got the mcdonalds for you
chat wouldnt let him live the moment down but hey at least he got to eat some french fries
Wilbur Soot
« [username] donated $20! » "wilbur open the fucking door right now"
"huh [name]? what are you talking about?"
« [username] donated $10! » "i was bored so now i'm outside your office cause i want to be on your stream. now open the fucking door"
"say less"
literally RUNS to the door to open it without giving it a second thought
he was still un-muted though so chat could barely hear the conversations between you too
"why are you here [name]? and... why do you have a box of cookies with you"
"like i said i was bored and did i forget to say i'm hungry?"
"it's 2am"
"yet you're streaming?"
"touché"
Fundy
« [username] donated $15! » "babe what do you want for lunch"
"oh hey [name]! uh i'm not sure. what do you have in mind?"
« [username] donated $10! » "well we can either go out or have it sent to us"
"well i think we both know what's the better option"
« [username] donated $10! » "doordash it is. how does [your favorite restaurant/food] sound?
"perfect"
the viewers who were new to his streams were absolutely confused
was this normal? do you two usually communicate like this? with you just donating to him?
the viewers who always watched his streams were used to it
it happened almost every other stream basically
Karl
« [username] donated $30! » "KARL!! MY FAVORITE STREAMER AND MY BEST FRIEND!! :D"
a huge smile appears on his face the second he reads your donation and message
"[name]!!! MY BEST FRIEND!! HOW ARE YOU DOING?"
quackity who was in a call with karl couldnt help but fake-gasp
i mean basically everyone knows he loves to be dramatic
"KARL I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND" D:
« [username] donated $20! » "shut up quackity :/ karl is my best friend, go find a new one. oh and i'm doing good karl"
karl just laughs while quackity fake sobs and starts cursing at you
« [username] donated $10! » "karl can i join the call? it'll be easier to talk to quackity "
"uh sure... no yelling please"
« [username] donated $20! » "no promises"
the second you joined, you began cursing and yelling at quackity
like you said, no promises
Tommy
« [username] donated $10! » "hey idiot, can i join your stream"
"first of all, how dare you call me a idiot and second of all, no"
« [username] donated $10! » "why not"
couldnt help but scoff at your message as chat begs tommy to let you join
chat absolutely loves the banter between you two though it usually ended in tommy's mom yelling at him from how loud he was cursing into the mic
"because i said so"
« [username] donated $50! » "what if i give you money"
"that won't make me change my mind"
« [username] donated $10! » "okay fine :/ how about i stop being annoying to you"
he was actually thinking hard about this one
not even joking
"wait actually? hmm... what do you think chat?"
« [username] donated $10! » "hurry up and decide"
"okay fine, you can join"
« [username] donated $10! » "yay :D"
*queue you joining the call*
"I never said how long i'll stop being annoying so ha hey you bitch"
*queue you being kicked from the call*
« [username] donated $1! » "fuck you"
Sapnap
« [username] donated $10! » "did you eat my ice cream"
literally looked at the donation message for a second before immediately looking away
the guilt is clearly on his face
"I don't know what you're talking about. I never saw any ice cream in your mini-fridge."
« [username] donated $10! » "huh strange, I never mentioned it being in my mini-fridge"
oh shit
he's done for
"uh well i guessed cause i always see food in there like ice cream"
« [dsmp_fan] donated $5! » "stop fucking lying sapnap"
"how could you betray me like this, chat. I swear i didnt take your ice cream [name]"
« [username] donated $10! » "fine i believe you"
"thank you"
...
...
...
« [username] donated $10! » "you fucker i literally see the empty ice cream pint on the table behind you"
───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
Taglist: @thenotsohottopic @0littlem0-0 @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @ryxjxnnx @boiciph3r @maxiewritesfanfic @nightwalkercrescent @missusstark @multifandomgirl-us @sophia902103 @sunnyxlove @marrymetheonott @voidgonemissing @alec- lost-bee @ttakinou @izuruus @chaoticotaku @joyfullymulti @oh-mcyt @sxltedcxramel @dawnfallx @blushingduckling @blueberrystigma @youngstarfishdinosaur @poookii @beepbopbee @dazedgxth @wrenqueenisboss @saturnhas82moons @itsonlydana @comonlokbut2 @lacunaanonymoused @sirsleeps @toodeepintofandoms @sparkletash @luluwinchester @buckyswhxre @jadecameron69420 @sarahwasfound @isaac-foster-my-beloved @dukina @arcanine-doves @auralol
Send in a ask or dm me to be added! | bolded means you either changed your url or your settings makes it so I cant tag you
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httpsleclerc · 1 year ago
Note
Hi bestie :] can I request - sharing one bed with Mr George Russell ? 😌 Thank ya <3
hello bestie !! thank you for your request your my favourite ever ever!!
george russell x fem!merc!driver!reader
It was unfair to say that you hated George.
Maybe strongly disliked was a better option, strongly dislikable enough that the very thought of staying in a room with him any longer than you needed to made you want to tear your hair out. To make it worse, you were forced to act as though you could at least tolerate - the perks of hating your team mate were not great.
Adding salt to the wound, the hotel that you and the other drivers had been booked into had double booked both yours and Georges rooms, meaning that you would have to share a room together, and now, as it seemed, a bed as well.
"Oh, great," You complained, spotting only one double bed as you walked into the room you would be sharing with your arch nemesis and also team mate for the weekend. "I'll sleep on the couch." You comprised, as much as you thought you hated George, he was 6'2, there was no way he was fitting on the couch and you didn't want him to have a sore back - otherwise he'd perform poorly, that was the only reason you cared, right? It was all about his performance, not about how you noticed how he stopped gelling his hair after you had drunkenly told him it looked better without the gel, how despite how you treated him, he was still friendly towards you.
No, you mentally scolded yourself, you are not. in love with him
"No, you take the bed, honestly, it's fine," He waved you off. Curse George and his British politeness.
"No, you take the bed. You're a giant, you won't fit on the couch," You tried to reason with him, you were too tired at this point to argue, it had been non-stop since Austin and you just wanted one good nights sleep, even if it was on a couch. George sighed as he shook his head, throwing your bag onto the bed.
"Honestly, Y/N, it's fine," You were ready to stomp your feet and throw a little tantrum at how polite this man was. How polite, tall...handsome...No. Enough of that. You huffed out tiredly.
"Fine, we'll both sleep in the bed," You were too tired to care about what he would reply to that with, but you were shocked at how he didn't second guess accepting your invitation. "What? No snide comments?" George quirked his eyebrow at your response - he had never been snide with you, in fact quite the opposite.
George was sure he was head over heels in love with you, even though you acted in the exact opposite way towards him, but that didn't matter to him, he was hoping if he was nice enough to you, that maybe it would make up for whatever he had done to make you hate him, even if he had no clue what he had done in the first place.
He supposed he could understand your hostility - You were a young woman in a male dominated sport, lucky to sign with such an esteemed team as Mercedes in your rookie year was a blessing, but for you, it was filled with sexist remarks, doubting your ability in the sport, which time and time again you had proved yourself in, often outperforming your teammate. However, it didn't seem to matter how often you outperformed George, however many podiums you won, everything you did was undermined because you were a woman.
"Nope," He shook his head, giving you a small smile, he saw you fight back one in response. "I'll go get changed in the bathroom, you can stay in here." He said, taking his pyjamas into the large bathroom with him. You sighed as you sat on the bed, sinking into the mattress as you ran your hands over your face, before eventually getting into bed with your pyjamas on. The pounding of the rain against the window caught your attention, the crashing of the thunder causing you to jump, and run into bed; your face a scarlet red as the embarrassment of still being scared of thunderstorms at this age hit you. By the time George came out of the bathroom, the red from your face had died down and you were half asleep on your designated half of the bed. He quietly and gently got in beside you, not wanting to wake you up since you already looked so peaceful when you were only half asleep.
It didn't last long, as you woke up with a panicked gasp at a clap of thunder, your heart dropping at how vulnerable you now were in front of George. You were half expecting him to laugh at you and call you childish, but instead, he tentatively reached out for your hand in the dark, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry," You said bashfully, looking away from him despite the room being pitch black. George sighed and lay back down, pulling you down with him.
"It's okay love, you've nothing to be sorry for," He said softly, still holding onto your hand, causing the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach to multiply.
Maybe hate was a strong word.
Was in love with him now a step too far?
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landoom · 10 months ago
Text
F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Landoscar AU's
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(this list doesn't contain Highschool/Uni AU's as there will be another list dedicated to those)
Capturing Your Heart With A Loud Click. (12088 words) by cxrnlia Rating: Mature Summary: Oscar is the guy at the park who takes walks to calm down, Lando is the guy who takes pictures at the park, but can't help but take pictures of Oscar instead.
oOoOoOo
what’s up, danger? (can’t stop me now) (12648 words) by startosphere Rating: General Audiences Summary: “What type of race?” He lets his phone down on his thigh, focusing fully on the conversation and suddenly more interested. “The type that you can’t do, y’know?” George says with a suspicious grin. Lando tilts his head because what in the world are they even talking about? ”We’re talking about street races, Lando,” Charles takes pity on him and starts a little explanation, “There are laws against it so you better shut up about this, I mean it, could get Oscar in real trouble.” Lando can’t help but let out a huff. Perhaps he slept on the couch and this is all some type of strange nightmare, it doesn’t seem right when his brain starts collecting and comprehending what they just told him, for some reason, he can’t believe that.   Or, Oscar is a street racing driver, and Lando needs to see before believing.
oOoOoOo
You Bring Me Closer to God (9808 words) by wanderingblindly Rating: Mature Summary:
They’re still close enough to whisper, Lando’s hand holding him in place as he grins wildly. “You like it rough, Osc?”
He doesn’t even care if it’s just a bit, just Lando’s stage persona washing over him like it does all his fans. Looking up at Lando, looking at the lipstick he smeared across his cupid’s bow and chin – it’s like he’s seen god. Felt it on his lips, tasted it on his tongue. Oscar grabs him by the nape of the neck without a second thought, pulling them together just as viciously as the first time.
Or: In which Lando is a very slutty front-man for a small band seeking their big break, Oscar is an enamored bartender, and Jenson's bar brings them together.
oOoOoOo
come feel this magic (i've been feeling since i met you) (10670 words) by lemonadedino Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Lando is a faerie and doesn't know it Oscar is unequivocally in love with him and figures it out along the way
oOoOoOo
mistletoe wishes (5519 words) by 14CookiesGone Rating: General Audiences Summary: Oscar glances up and he sees the offender. The small sprig of green and white that Lando has been trying to avoid all evening, that they’re now standing directly underneath. They have two options. They can laugh it off and ignore it, despite the fact they’ve been playing at being doting boyfriends all evening. Or - OR Lando asks Oscar to be his fake date to his office Christmas party. It turns out to be a little more than fake.
oOoOoOo
the pacemaker blues (2233 words) by Anonymous Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Carefully, slowly, Oscar moved to the other end of the couch, trying not to show the tension he felt. “So you got yourself cursed?” Lando yelped and dropped his phone. It laid on the floor, suddenly dead. “Shit.”
oOoOoOo
you wear it well (2080 words) by Anonymous Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “I need to borrow one of your hoodies,” Lando says, as he makes his way into Oscar’s apartment and flops down on the couch, kicking off his shoes in the process. Oscar squints suspiciously in his direciton. “Why?” Lando sits up so his head pokes over the back of the couch. “Because I need George and Alex to think I have a boyfriend."
oOoOoOo
invocations one fall away from the concrete (10561 words) by debrief Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?” “Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ��Birth date’ square though. Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper. Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”
oOoOoOo
carried away (22168 words) by venerat Rating: Explicit Summary: "Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”
oOoOoOo
only found (6872 words) by debrief Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically. Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?” -- cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.
oOoOoOo
soft vanilla foreplay (7035 words) by Anonymous Rating: Mature Summary: “Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.” Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?” Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”
@hc-dutch
(let me know if you want to be tagged in my upcoming reclists!)
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bitletsanddrabbles · 3 months ago
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Stolen Child: A Much Needed Screaming Fit
Okay, so, as I said earlier - I'm fine. The story's fine. I'm not angry at anyone about anything or shouting at or accusing anyone of anything or any of that sort of thing that I might come across as somehow because I'm shouting and only sort of semi-coherently. I'm just shouting because I need to shout.
Basically, I've been feeling increasingly just…tired and tense? The temperature spike this weekend did not help at all, since I am not a heat person and it narfs my sleep. And my brain finally phrased last month as "I didn't have a single day off in August because every time I wasn't at work I was some stripe of not-feeling-well", at which point the rest of my mind and body went "YES EXACTLY!" and doubled down on the exhaustion and anxiety. I also have another routine medical appointment next Tuesday and something going on with my hand that looks kinda like ringworm, but doesn't act like ringworm (and how would I have picked up ringworm there?), which I will need to make another appointment for. Which means I really need to have a good, old fashioned, overstimulated three-year-old level melt down about something I care about, but that is not ultimately important to the universe and then go…I dunno. Maybe eat some ice cream and take a nap. Definitely with the napping.
Since Stolen Child is kinda the Big Craft Community Craft Thing right now and ranting about it could, conceivably, generate some useful dialogue which always results in Happy Brain Chemicals (useful right now!), we're going with that one. So if you feel like reading through the flailing mental health fail rant and giving advice, observations, feedback, or just patting me on the head and saying "Don't forget to breathe, dear. Air is important", go right on ahead. If you don't, eh. Not your job. Feel free to keep scrolling.
And now! Here we go! Ready, set - MELT DOWN!
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This right here? Is a great comment. It's a lovely comment. I love informative comments like this! There's only one problem with it:
I SERIOUSLY NEEDED THIS INFO BACK WHEN I WAS PLANNING THE ORIGINAL STORY!
See, back in 2017, when I was first plotting this whole thing, my plan was to have him wind up…not heir. I seriously think he'd be happier doing like Tom and Henry and living at Downton, but running a clock shop somewhere and letting Mary run the estate and George be the heir. Thing is, I didn't know that was possible just like that. I hadn't made any of my UK fan-friends at the time (heck, I don't think I had this account yet?). As I have mentioned a million times, I fail at research, although I have been slowly getting a bit better with help. So at the time I thought that an Earl's son became the heir, no questions asked, and no options unless they abdicated which was fully what I intended on having Thomas do after a bit of trying and getting a headache and having him and Mary both unintentionally-but-avoidably stomp all over each other's toes. Then I started rewatching (didn't make it through season one because I have officially hit the 'can't really watch things on my own' stage) and was immediately reminded that Matthew didn't have a choice but to be heir. Oh! Oops! Guess Thomas can't abdicate! Which is how we wound up with the current draft.
And this comment.
Now, I have no reason to disbelieve the statement that they don't need to recognize Thomas, but I can't think of why my UK friends wouldn't have pointed it out at some point, except that I did always call it the Thomas-as-Heir fic which could have lead to the concept that heir was my desired end game. Or perhaps it was one of those things that just didn't get questioned because subconsciously they thought it was my desired end game. Or maybe something else perfectly logical! I mean, there are reasons it could have happened, but my brain is not braining good right now, so. Point being, I didn't know and I'm still not sure and this firmly falls outside of my 'things I can comfortably research'. If it were modern, sure! But history?
Seriously, my researching lessons in school extended to 'go to the library and read a book' and stopped. There was nothing about how to gauge how trustworthy the book was, or if there was, I didn't learn it because I moved through three school districts (five if you count college and uni) and wasn't in the right district at the right time. Given how obvious it is that there are a lot of history books out there that straight up lie (and I don't just mean the school texts. I've tried to teach myself history in recent years and wound up straight up calling bull shit on several books), this leads to massive trust issues. I asked at my local library if they had a research librarian on staff and bless his heart, the fellow I was talking to didn't even know what that was. There's another library nearby that is bigger, but I keep forgetting that it's part of our library system now and honestly I don't even know how to drive there and don't like driving in that area anyway and I'm not even sure the busses will take me there in a reasonable manner given public transport in this area. I know I've heard of a couple other tricks over the years that I've carefully noted down in places I've forgotten about so that I could reference them later.
…yeah.
And if it is true (which I have every reason to believe it is), what then? I've already set up the entire story to have Thomas be recognized as heir! I mean, I could put it on hold and rewrite the ending. There are a couple of scenes that would be easy, but others would be straight up impossible. I'd also have to lose at least three scenes that I've been looking forward to sharing and that people would love, and I don't know what I'd replace them with, and I'd have to rewrite the dinner scene (*straight up cries at the thought*), and I am a slow writer, so I have no idea when it would be done! I kinda hate the idea of telling everyone "We're going to be a chapter a week!" and then three chapters later going "Haha, just kidding! Indefinite hiatus while I fix the entire plot!" Especially since right now reader comments are definitely my primary 'happy chemical' source and I need that! On the other hand, I really, really love the idea of this being a one shot and not having to figure out what happens next! But it might not get done for another ten years if I try that!
If I do stick with him as heir, it seems like people would know that not recognizing him was an option, so I'd still need to do some rewriting to explain why he winds up heir! And why would he? The only thing I can come up with given my current setting is Cora pitching an ever loving (dignified, restrained) fit over the idea of not acknowledging him and he and Robert just going "OKAY OKAY WE YIELD!" which will still take some rewriting, but a lot less (I think I can keep the rewrites ahead of the posting schedule for the most part maybe?), and will still leave me figuring out where we go from here, but might work as a decent compromise?
Either way, I have to figure out what I'm doing before I post next week's chapter! And all my brain wants to do is melt into a puddle of goo for a month! The idea of trying to research or plot or anything like that just makes me want to sit in the shower and cry! I WANT A MONTH'S VACATION FROM LIFE, DAMN IT ALL!
Edit: I now have an appointment to have my hand looked at this Wednesday.
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murdoch characters and what they would call tim hortons
murdoch : the full tim hortons. murdoch would call miles gilbert horton by his christian name if he could. but also deep down i think he desires a simpler time where he can say timmy’s
ogden : tim’s rolls off her tongue like it was made to be
george : tim’s, the full tim hortons when feeling extra, timothy hortons when making a point. proceeds to be shocked upon learning that tim horton’s name was in fact not timothy
brackenreid : does not go there ; has personal beef
henry : look me in the eye and tell me this man ISNT saying timmies. george objects to this spelling bc it implies that the products themselves are called timmies (singular timmy) like at least timmy’s keeps that meaning that the restaurant belonged to tim horton. henry points out that it’s spelled tim hortons w/o an apostrophe so timmies should technically be considered the correct spelling and george informs him that they only got rid of the apostrophe bc of a language law in québec and henry is like why do you care you don’t even call it that and george is like it’s the principle of things and by the time henry’s asking about his opinion on the name timbits the person at the drive thru window is sick of them bc their coffee’s getting cold
semi related remember timbiebs. henry wouldve gotten the merch.
violet : tim’s but she doesn’t go very often, she has way better options
effie : effie is such a timmy’s girlie you’d hear her say « i think i want timmy’s » and think yeah that’s such a thing she would say. truly it’s the most logical option in the world. rest in peace effie newsome you wouldve loved calling tim hortons timmy’s
watts : tim hortons or tim’s but like violet he doesnt go very often bc he knows better places to get coffee and donuts, mourns the pretzel bagel constantly
margaret : tim horton’s, way used to the apostrophe and when one she goes to frequently changes their signage she mentions it to brax who’s like why does it matter bad coffee is bad coffee doesnt matter who it belongs to lmaoooo
choi : tim hortons but only bc he hasnt been canadian long enough. in due time he will start to adapt tim’s i believe this to be true
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ghostlystyles · 2 years ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆
anthony lockwood x gn!reader
lockwood is really just a lovesick teenager
request: Could you do a Lockwood X reader where they are getting ready for the gala at Fittes and Lockwood sees reader in the dress for the first time?
tessa’s notes: this was the fic that i didn’t save properly when i was nearly done, but it turned out alright so we vibe
warnings: honestly just pure fluff + lucy and reader are close friends :D, comment if i missed any <3
word count: 0,9k
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—“OKAY, LUCE, WHAT do you think of this?” you asked, turning around to face the girl who was reading a book on her bed. “That definitely looks like you’re going to a funeral,” she replied. You turned back around to look in the mirror and sighed frustratedly, “well, considering what we’re about to do, I might be in a few days. I agree, though, it looked fine in the shop but this is terrible.”
“Well, you have one more, don’t you? Try that on,” Lucy suggested, looking up from her book. “Good call, give me a second,” you spoke, walking back to your wardrobe and pulling out the other dress. It was a red silk dress that reached your ankles and the woman in the shop had specifically told you it would look great on you, so you had high hopes.
You slipped into it and turned around to face Lucy again. “What about this?” you questioned as you twirled around. “Oh my god. You look so good!” Lucy gasped, throwing her book to the side and jumping off the bed. You looked in the mirror and tugged on the dress to get it in place. Lucy was right, you looked undeniably beautiful. “Yeah, this is definitely better than the funeral dress.”
“Can I do your makeup now? Please?” Lucy asked, as she held up her basket of makeup products. “As long as you don’t stab out my eyes or make me look like a total idiot, sure, go ahead,” you replied, sitting down at Lucy’s desk chair and she got to work. She put some eyeliner on you, stuck a line of gems alongside it and finished it off with a bit of highlighter and a tinted lip balm. “There. You look so pretty.”
“Wow, Luce! I’m impressed, thank you!” you exclaimed happily, as you tilted your face to look in the mirror from a different angle. “You’re welcome,” Lucy said in a singsong voice, while you grabbed the stuff you needed to do your hair. “Are you nervous?” asked Lucy. “‘Course I am. We’re stealing this extremely rare book from Fittes’s library, which, knowing us, may very well get us killed, and we’re supposed to act ‘casual’ around the other people, of which I’m sure there are going to be lots. Also, those people are going to treat us as a couple, because why else would two people go to a ridiculously fancy gala together? So yes, I am a tad nervous,” you ranted quickly.
“Yeah, all of those are very valid. But why does it bother you so much that people are gonna treat you like a couple on a date?”
“Well, it’s not a date, is it? Do you know how hard it is to act like and be treated like a couple with someone who you have genuine feelings for but aren’t actually dating?”
“I think you’re allowed to treat it like a date. At least a little bit. He asked you to go with him, no? He could’ve asked me or George, but he asked you.”
“Luce, that was literally a 1 out of 3. I was probably the best option for the occasion or whatever.”
“No, N/N, he already called me an asset and I think he still feels guilty for that. He wouldn’t do something like that again.”
“Okay, fair enough, but still. Just because I could hypothetically treat it like a date, doesn’t mean he is. It’s bloody embarrassing if it’s one-sided.”
“Y/N!” Lockwood called from downstairs, “are you almost done? I’m pretty sure our taxi is gonna be here in a few minutes!”
“Yeah, just a second!” you responded, as you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. “Do I pass as a posh person who genuinely has business being at the Fittes gala?” you questioned. “Definitely. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were rich and probably a part of Penelope Fittes’s inner circle without a doubt,” Lucy reassured you. “Okay, great. Well, wish me luck, then,” Lucy gave you a quick hug and you then walked downstairs.
Lockwood was waiting for you by the front door and he looked star-struck when you descended the stairs. “Wow, Y/N— you look—”
“Stunning? Gorgeous? Charming?” you joked and Lockwood laughed softly. “Dazzling, honestly,” he finished his sentence, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Why, thank you. You look very pretty yourself,” you replied with a smile. “I really wish I could kiss you right now,” Lockwood whispered. Your stomach flipped upside down and you did a double take. “Did you just say what I think you said?” you questioned with your eyes wide open, “because if you did, I really wish the same.”
Lockwood wasted no more time and he grabbed your face between his hands, pulling you close. He placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss which made your insides completely melt. You pulled apart far too quickly for your liking and you both broke out into a huge grin. “Hey, that’s half your worries gone! Now all you have to do is steal the book, it’s gonna be a breeze!” Lucy yelled from halfway up the stairs. “Okay, Luce, that is enough stalker behaviour for today. We’re leaving,” Lockwood deadpanned, as he entwined his fingers with yours and dashed out the door. “Good luck, lovebirds!” you heard Lucy laugh before pulling the front door shut.
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f1goat · 2 years ago
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fwb x lando norris - part three
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In which you decide to become friends with benefits with Lando Norris, that can't be a bad idea right?
playlist x masterlist
part one part two
Dinner is nice. Lando is acting like an absolute gentleman. You never thought he’d be this classy. When you think about it, Lando is really different then how you thought he would be. For starters, you always thought about him as the socially awkward boy with not much experience with girls. If you talked about him with George, George would always tell you that Lando didn’t know how to handle a girl. You know now how wrong George was. Lando can make you feel all kind of things with only his words and he already gave you way better orgasms then George ever did. 
“What do you want for dessert?” You ask Lando. You’re looking at the menu, still not knowing what you want to eat. You’re doubting between your normal choice or something new. There are so many good options that it’s just unfair to make someone chose only one. 
“I don’t know yet, I’m doubting between the crème brûlée and that caramel mouse one,” Lando tells you, “I only know for sure what I want to eat after.”
You look surprised at him. What’s he talking about? 
“You.”
Your stomach tightens itself in a knot. You can’t even think about dessert anymore. What is Lando doing to you? How can he have the power over you with only the most simple words? Fuck. You’re already in to deep. 
“Or are we still going to pretend this isn’t going to happen again?” Lando asks you suddenly. 
You stay silent for a bit. There are multiple options to chose from. You know that Lando is probably talking about the sex between the two of you. If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want this to stop but you also don’t want the drama that will come from it. What to do?
“Do you want it to happen again?” You ask Lando, giving yourself a little bit more time to think about what else to say. 
“Of course,” Lando answers without hesitation, “What about you?”
“Me too,” you tell Lando without even thinking about it.
“Then what’s the problem?” Lando asks you further.
You stay silent for a bit, thinking about the different problems. You know it will cause problems when your boss finds out, but that isn’t really important anymore since you already told him when you will quit. The main problem is probably George. What will happen if he finds out? The last weeks you have the feeling that George isn’t done with you, he keeps sending you texts and keeps asking for your attention. George will be extremely angry, making your job insufferable as well for as long you’re still there. And you don’t know what he will do to Lando. What if he will talk shit about Lando? What if Lando looses his friends because of George. And then the other problem, you’ve had your fair share of social media haters. George and you never came out to the public about your relationship, George didn’t want to. But still, there were so many fans noticing and sending hate to you. What if those people find out about you swinging from George to Lando? You like your Instagram page, you want it to be your safe place and not a place filled with hate and mean words.
And then you haven’t even thought about the biggest problem. What if you catch feelings for Lando? Maybe you can already say that you’re catching feelings. The way you feel when you’re with him is different. But still, you can’t catch feelings for Lando. After all, he would never feel the same for you. For him this is about the sex. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
“There are multiple problems,” you say after a while, “First of all, what are we doing? I guess this is some kind of friends with benefits situation? Only sex?”
Lando feels disappointed by your words. Friends with benefits situation. He’d hoped that you would recognize his feelings for what they are. He has a massive crush on you, since the first day he met you. He never told you because he didn’t know how, and after a while you belonged to George. His crush never faded away. And now, when he finally has a chance with you it’s in a weird friends with benefits situation. He sighs softly, but thinks about the chances this will give him. Maybe he can make you fall in love while being in this weird situation? 
“I guess so,” Lando responds.
“Okay, then we need some rules,” you tell Lando, “Some rules that will help this not turning into a mess.”
Lando simply nods, maybe you’re right? 
“Okay, first of all. I want this to be exclusive,” you tell Lando, “I don’t want you to have sex with others as long as we’re doing this.”
Lando feels happy about the first rule you’re suggesting. He nods, “I don’t want that either, so I stand by that rule.” 
“If you want to fuck someone else that’s okay, but that also means that this is done,” you tell him, Lando nods again. He almost tells you that he doesn’t want someone else. 
“I think it’s wise to stay out of the media,” Lando says, “I don’t want you to receive the online hate.” 
You are speechless for a couple seconds. George never thought about you this way. He didn’t care what was photographed, he just didn’t put a label on it for the media. When you told him you didn’t want to be exposed all the time, he just told you to deal with it. 
“I agree,” you tell Lando, you try to hide your excitement about his previous statement, 
“Okay, so no others and no media. I also suggest that we don’t tell anyone else. Maybe a really close friend, but this can’t go around at the paddock,” you continue, “I don’t want to know what George will do when he finds out, so let’s make sure that he’s not finding out.”
“I also don’t want to get in a fist fight with George, so that’s a good rule,” Lando says, “but I might tell Max.” 
You nod at that, “Have you anything else?” 
“I don’t think so? I do think it’s smart to hold our distance in public if we don’t want anyone to find out,” Lando tells you.
“That’s a good one!” You exclaim, “So that would mean no dates and maybe not too much contact on race weekends? We can be seen together sometime, but not too often and too close.” 
“Already breaking the first rule by being here,” Lando says with a smile. You laugh, “Oops.”
“Lastly, I think we need to stop when there are getting feelings involved. I don’t want this to turn in to a mess,” you tell Lando carefully. You can only hope you will follow your own rule. 
“Yeah, if someone catches feelings we need to be honest and stop,” Lando replies. He’s already breaking multiple rules this evening. First by taking you out for dinner, now for continuing when there are already feelings involved from his side. He’s not going to be honest. This might be his only chance to really get to know you on this level. 
“Okay, so that’s it. No others, no public dates, not telling people and no feelings,” you sum everything up. Lando nods. 
A waitress shows up next to your table, “Do you have made a choice for dessert?” She asks. 
You don’t know what to say. You completely forgot about dessert. Just when you decide to go for your safe option, Lando opens up his mouth and starts talking. 
“Can you maybe make some kind of sharing platter? I don’t really care what it includes as long there’s a crème brûlée on it,” he asks the waitress. 
It’s not the first time that Lando surprises you, but still. He’s perfect boyfriend material, it’s so unfair now you think about it. He should do things like this for a girl he actually likes. You want to tell him something like that, but you don’t know if you should. It’s nice to have this for yourself, but Lando also deserves to know that his behavior is boyfriend material. 
When the waitress returns, she’s holding an amazing plate of multiple small desserts. You quickly take a picture for your private Instagram stories. For once not caring about George’s opinion about it. 
“This looks amazing,” you tell Lando happily. 
The both of you start eating. While enjoying your dessert, you can’t stop thinking about this new formed situation with Lando. Will this end up as something you’re going to regret? You’ve never heard of a friends with benefits situation going right. You got yourself involved in a mess. But when you look at Lando you already forget all about the mess. This is going to be worth it. This will be a thing that you don’t want to miss. 
**
Lando and you are sitting in his McLaren. He’s bringing you back to the hotel. You look around in the sport car, you’ve never seen one from the inside. It looks amazing. When you arrive in front of your apartment, Lando is quick to step out of the car and open the door for you. You frown, what is he doing? 
“Didn’t know you were such a gentleman for the girl you’re fucking with,” you tell Lando with a small smile. 
Lando laughs softly. He almost tells you that he’s trying to be more then that, but he holds back the words. Instead he goes for a flirty response, “I’m just trying to get in to your hotel room.”
You laugh with Lando. Together the two of you are walking inside to hotel. Lando’s hand is on your back while doing so. You have a small smile laying on your face. Together you step in to the elevator. Lando’s hands are still all over you. He holds you close to him. You can’t help yourself and tease him a bit, grinding your ass slowly over his dick. 
“If I were you I’d stop teasing me,” Lando mutters in your ear, “because I can be a tease as well. Maybe I’ll bring you close to your orgasm the whole night and deny it from you every time.”
You quickly stop your movements. You don’t want him to do that later. But you do feel turned on because of his words.
The elevator stops on the first floor. You see how the doors open, but you don’t really think about it. Lando is still holding you closely to himself, you are pressed up against him. When you notice who’s standing in front of you, you almost jump away from Lando. You try to do it more subtle, slowly moving away from Lando. His hands have left your body. He steps away from you as well. 
“Y/N? Lando?”
In front of you is standing George. He’s getting in the elevator with you as well. Fuck. If there’s something you’re not in the mood for it’s this. To be honest, the thing you are in the mood for includes only you and Lando. 
You sigh. George always knows how to ruin something good. 
“What are the two of you doing together?” George asks. 
“Nothing it was just a coincidence that we met in the elevator,” you tell George. 
“Why was he holding you like that?” George continues to ask.
You don’t know an answer this quick. It’s Lando who answers quick enough.
“She just congratulated me with my podium,” he tells George, “So we hugged, since that’s a pretty normal thing to do by congratulating.” 
“So there’s nothing going on between you two?” George asks.
Lando and you both deny it. There’s nothing going on between the two of you. At least, nothing that concerns George according to you two. The elevator stops on your floor, you look a bit hopeless at Lando. What’s next? You wanted him to join you, but that’s impossible now. Thanks to George. 
“Let me walk you to your room Y/N,” George tells you. You just nod. You’re not in the mood to argue with him about it. It’s no use to do so. You walk out of the elevator with George, leaving Lando behind. 
When Lando arrives on his own floor he still can’t stop thinking about you and George. It’s annoying, but he can’t stop himself from doing so. He wonders what’s happening between you and George right now. But he also wonders about his own night if George didn’t interrupt it. He thinks about your earlier relationship with George. He wonders if you’re already over it? Maybe for you this is all about forgetting George, or maybe even about taking revenge on George? 
In the mean time you’re trying to get rid of George. You question yourself what you ever saw in him. Maybe it was because of the life he brought with him. You’ve only been together for a small half year before he cheated on you. Now that you think about it, you never told him that you loved him or anything like that. The relationship was real, but maybe it wasn’t for you. Every time you work with George or you meet him outside of work, he knows how to annoy you. How is it possible that you were dating with him? 
“You and Lando seem to meet up a lot lately,” George mentions. 
“As I told you, it’s a coincide George.”
“What if I don’t believe that? I always thought Lando had some sort of crush on you,” George continues. You don’t pay attention to his words, knowing George he’s lying to get a reaction from you. 
“That’s your problem. You don’t have some sort of claim over me, we’re done remember? So I will kindly ask you to go to your own room.”
George mumbles some words, you can’t really hear him but you know it aren’t nice things to say to someone else. You open your room door and get inside. You wait until you hear George walking away. That should mean it’s safe now, right? You quickly grab your phone and send Lando a text.
Y/N: he’s gone, are you still coming?
Lando doubts a bit about his answer. He feels down because of the interaction with George. It’s mainly his own fault. He is thinking about your mindset, why are you fucking with him? Is it because of him or is it because of George? He’s afraid that you’re using him to get some kind of revenge on George. But on the other hand, you specifically told him that you won’t want George to find out. Maybe you’re using him to get over him? He types a reply for you.
Lando: don’t know if I’m still in the mood after running in to George 
Maybe he can ask you sometime about your motives? But maybe he doesn’t want to know them. Lando sighs. He hears his phone vibrating, quickly he takes a look at it. 
Y/N: that’s too bad, I was excited about you teasing me
Lando is already jumping up from his bed when he reads your text. He quickly types back a reply before heading over to your hotel room. How can a simple text make him feel this way? He go his excited feelings back and can’t wait to feel you again. 
Lando: Omw 
Lando: What room number?
Y/N: 206
Lando steps in to the elevator, waiting patiently until it’s reaches your floor level. When it finally does he quickly steps out of it. Not even noticing the person who’s getting in. 
“Lando?”
This can’t be real, Lando thinks annoyed. How is he meeting up with George again? He turns around, facing George. 
“What are you doing here?” George asks. 
“None of your business,” Lando responds. 
George walks out of the elevator, getting closer towards Lando. 
“I know what you’re doing,” George tells Lando, “and it’s useless.” 
Lando doesn’t reply. He has no idea what George is talking about. He doesn’t want to give him more information because of a weird statement. The only thing he wants is to go over to your room. 
“I know you’re trying to get closer to her,” George continues, “but she doesn’t want you. What do you think? That a girl like her wants someone in her bed who can’t even find her clit. Just stop trying, I’ll have her back by my side before you know it.”
Lando is speechless at first. How can George say things like this? He sighs. What a fucking dick. He thinks about fucking you so hard that George can hear it, but he knows you don’t want George to find out. 
“You know George, I strongly believe I could give Y/N better orgasms then you ever did,” Lando says eventually, “Not because I’m that good in the bedroom, but mainly because you’re that selfish.” 
He turns around and walks away from his old friend. When he looks back he notices that the elevator is leaving with George. Lando searches for your room. He only wants one thing right now and that’s to hear that he really fucks you better then George ever did.
**
Only fifteen minutes later is Lando thrusting in and out of you. You are pressed up against the door. The two of you didn’t even make it to the bed. Mainly because of you. You were waiting for a bit for Lando before you got bored. So you decided to already undress yourself. When you opened the door for Lando you were only wearing a lingerie set. Lando never entered a hotel room this fast, not wanting anyone else to see what was meant for his eyes. 
The set is now somewhere laying on the floor. Lando is holding you up while fucking you against the door. His pants are hanging around his feet, his boxer is somewhere between his legs. He doesn’t care. 
You moan when Lando starts licking around your nipple. He peppers some kisses around it before taking the hard nob into his mouth again. You moan even harder when he softly bites on it in a playful way. 
Your hands are lost somewhere in Lando’s hair. When he leaves your nipple alone to move over to your neck, you pulls his hair as a reflex. He starts kissing your neck until he finds the place you like it the most. You feel him groan against your collarbone. He moves multiple times with his mouth against your neck, shoulders and collarbone. It feels wonderful. 
Your stomach starts to tighten. Lando increases his pace. You moan again. It’s unfair how good he is at fucking you. How can you ever think about anyone else when these memories are there? You know for sure that no one can fuck you as good as him. Whenever this thing between you ends, probably because Lando will find a girl he actually likes, you can never have sex like this again. He’s ruining you. He’s ruining you for everyone else. 
“Tell me, who’s making you feel this good,” Lando asks you with a husky voice. 
You don’t even doubt before answering him, “You, Lando. Only you. Fuck.” You’re words are messy, but that reflects exactly how you feel as well. You’re a moaning mess under Lando. 
“Good girl,” he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours. 
His fingers find their way to your clit. With some small movements he gives you exactly what you need. He feels how close you are getting to your orgasm. He’s also getting close. He removes his fingers from your clit. 
“Did anyone else ever made you feel this good?” He asks you. 
Before he can even doubt his direct question, you’re already answering it. 
“No. Only you.”
He can’t help himself anymore, he needs to ask further. “Not even George?”
You moan once again before answering Lando. You wonder shortly about his questions, but maybe he’s the type that likes hearing how good he fucks you. What would you know about it. You think it’s kinda hot. You like the dirty way he’s talking. You like his words of affirmation, you love to be called a good girl. So instead of giving Lando a simple answer, something like no, you decide to tell him the truth. 
“He only made me cum once,” you say. 
Lando laughs out loud. It’s pathetic how there’s suddenly a weight lifted of his shoulders. 
“So I already beat him?” He asks you. 
“Maybe,” you say, maybe you can tease him a bit. 
Lando decreases his movements, going so slow that he’s almost stopping. You feel your orgasm moving further away. Fuck you were almost there. 
“Maybe?” He questions, “are you pretending to cum?”
“Maybe,” you tell him again. 
“Did I ever told you that I don’t like liars?” Lando asks you. He pulls his dick out of you and takes a small step back. He removes his pants and underwear in the mean time. You shake your head. 
“Maybe I should show you what I do with bad girls,” Lando tells you with a stern tone. It’s almost if there’s someone new standing in front of you. Lando looks confident, you feel yourself turning in to an even bigger mess. 
“Show me,” you whisper. 
Lando shows you a smirk, he picks you up and takes you to the bed. He drops you softly on the bed. You stare at him, waiting for his next move. Already missing the feeling of him inside of you. 
“Maybe I should do what I told you earlier after all. First the teasing and now this, you don’t know how to behave properly. You only deserve punishment,” Lando tells you while still talking with the same stern tone in his voice. 
“Punishment?” You ask. This is kinda new for you. You’ve read about it when reading your romance books, but you never thought you’d find someone who was interested in the same things. 
“What do you think you deserve babygirl? A few spanks? A bit of teasing?” Lando asks you, “Come sit on my lap,” He says almost immediately after that. 
You obey quickly. You move yourself around to sit properly on his lap. Your bare pussy on his dick, but it’s not in you to your annoyance. If it wasn’t for your big mouth you’d already orgasmed by now. Lando slowly touches your body. His hands find their way to your ass eventually, he kneads your cheeks slowly. 
“I want you to lie over my lap, face down and ass up,” Lando tells you, “and I want you to listen to me.”
You quickly do what Lando asks you. He kneads your ass a bit more. Softly grazing against it with his hands. You let out a soft moan when his hand almost touches the part between your legs. You need him. But this is your own fault. 
“This is for lying to me, I gave you an orgasm the first night,” Lando says before he softly slaps against your ass. He wants to test you first, he needs to know what you like and what you dislike. He caresses your ass after the slap. You moan softly. That’s his sign to continue. 
“This is for lying to me as well, because I’m pretty sure you came earlier today in my dressing room,”Lando tells you. He slaps your ass harder this time, you let out a surprised gasp but it quickly turns into a moan. 
“This is for almost lying me again, you were only seconds away from your orgasm. I could feel your walls clenching around me already.” He slaps your ass harder again. You’re not surprised this time. You let out a moan when his hand touches your ass. 
Lando turns you back to himself. He changes your position. You’re laying on your back, waiting for Lando to do something. He comes closer to you, before you know it you feel him enter you again. 
“Next time I won’t be this nice,” he groans in to your ear before increasing his speed. 
You smile, “Be honest, you were almost there as well before you decided to test me.”
“I’m almost there for the whole fucking evening baby,” Lando groans, “it’s fucking unfair how you make me feel. Do you even know what effect that dress has on me? Fucking unfair.”
You don’t reply to Lando his words. At least, unless coming undone is some sort of reply? When Lando tells you about him being almost there for the whole evening, you feel yourself coming undone. You let out a few small moans. Lando is quick to follow your steps. Letting himself go as well. 
An hour later the two of you are still laying in your hotel bed. You’re scrolling on your phone, watching some video’s on TikTok. Lando is playing with your hair, while keeping himself busy with his never ending thoughts. He needs to know what your intentions are. 
“Y/N?” He asks after a while of thinking. You look up from your phone, directly facing Lando. 
“Can I ask you a weird question?” Lando asks. You nod. “You aren’t doing this to get some kind of revenge on George right? Or to get over him?” Lando asks. He feels relieved after finally asking those things, but he is quick to feel nervous again. He can’t shake off the nervous feeling while waiting for your answer. 
“No,” you simply state, “George hasn’t been on my mind even once while I’m fucking with you. I’m simply doing this because it’s fucking good.”
Lando smiles. He presses against on top of your head. 
“Why though?” You ask Lando. 
“I met him again when I stepped out of the elevator,” Lando tells you honestly, “He told me that you’d be back with him soon and that I would never fuck you as good as he did.”
“Hm,” you reply tiredly, “He’s wrong about both, what an idiot.” You’re tired of your ex boyfriend and his childish behavior. It’s stupid of him to think that he will get you back. As if. Lando continues to play with your hair. You feel your eyes getting heavier. Maybe you can sleep just like this. You move your head a bit, getting comfortable on Lando’s torso. Then you close your eyes and quickly drift away to sleep. 
Lando can’t stop watching you. He needs to talk about this to anyone. He can’t keep his thoughts to himself anymore. He decides to text his friend, Max Verstappen. 
Lando: max i need to tell you so much
Lando: im kinda in a complex situation
Max: what did you do this time Lando?
Lando: i might be friends with benefits with y/n
Max: fwb with feelings?
Lando: she doesnt know
Lando: lunch somewhere when we’re back in Monaco? I need to tell you everything
Max: deal
Max: i want to hear everything
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mysticaltora8276 · 1 year ago
Text
The Jedi only downfall, was being a tied and lied to by a corrupt government that screwed them over and being arrogant to not realizing there was a Sith in the middle of their government. As for Anakin? That was a combination of gaslighting, which was Palpatine’s doing, and Anakin’s own flaws and arrogance and inability to follow the Jedi code. There’s an entire comic in canon that indicates that the Force is trying to tell Anakin there is another path, and he could’ve chosen anything else, but he personally insist that this is the only way, which means that, even despite being shown the different options, he still chooses to do wrong. I’m an Anakin fan, but I will be the first to say that he is a moron, and he chose to be evil. There is no “the Jedi were mean to him.” The Jedi gave him every opportunity to prove himself, and he knew he was personally failing them, but because of his arrogance, and Palpatine whispering in his ear, he didn’t do anything about it that would causes him choosing to ignore his flaws, and the fact that he wasn’t listening to the order so his arrogance got the better of him better of him him.
Jedi are victims in Star Wars. In fact the clone wars TV series makes it clear even if some people do not get it. Nowhere in the interviews during the TV show or after the TV show or during the movies or after the movies does George Lucas blame the Jedi for their own genocide. The only thing he blames them for, is not noticing the evil in their midst, because of the fact that the government around them was corrupt, and they were caught up in the corruption. Their treatment of Anakin was more than adequate. Anakin failed them, not them.
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