#i really am only speaking to white people here. as a white person.
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thank you for your post haha i feel crazy seeing people dismissing real criticism of Viv literally for what? Like do you guys think shes exempt from mistakes? That shes mena woman and queens white saviour with her selective activisms acts?? Just dense people genuinely
anyways I also wanted to share this really interesting thread by former Chelsea player who when asked to sign Viv beloved petition asked for the genocide to be brought up first to radio silence from all parties
https://x.com/hedvig_lindahl/status/1848440227917906025?s=46
thanks anon! 🫶 listen, i try not to get too personal on this blog, but i will here. i don't want to clown on players or fans, but to give my perspective on activism and what i view as helpful or harmful. and people should really listen to why so many arab and muslim women are upset with her statement and why we are not just bitter arsenal fans or whatever people are saying to dismiss our concerns.
i am a gay woman of arab/muslim heritage in my 30s living in a 'western' country whose family emigrated a long time ago to settle here. i have dealt with racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and islamophobia my entire life. i will never be spanish enough or arab enough or white enough or whatever enough, and frankly, i have stopped caring. 💅
therefore, my views of human rights and activism are very much centered on my own life experiences. and that is what i am sharing with you all! 🙏
people talk about lgbt rights in arab and muslim countries as if queer arabs and muslim do not exist. hello, we exist! 👋 in these countries and the diaspora as a whole. and that we should silence our voices in favour of a privileged gay white woman just doesn't sit right with me.
so my perspective on viv's 'statement' doesn't treat it as existing in a vacuum but rather places it in the context of what we have come to view as the stereotype of the 'reel' bad arab.
when it comes to selective activism, i think about all the depictions of arabs and muslims in media. go to netflix and pull up any show. we are almost always the gangster, terrorist, 'bad guy.' there are studies as to what this does to condition society as always seeing arab/muslims as the other, the barbarian, the backwards.
the same goes with mainstream journalism. when mahsa amini was murdered by the iranian regime for not wearing her 'hijab' properly, that's what gained worldwide news (as it should!) and gained broadstream feminist support, but what about the fact that europe is passing hijab bans, burqini bans, and preventing women from covering to do their jobs. where is that coverage and where are the same feminists with the same energy?
when every piece of activism associated with arabs and muslims (unfortunately by many white women) is negative, negative, negative, that our countries and people are terrible backwards places and it's okay to look the other way when we are killed in bombings and in genocides because we are evil, right? then yes, the constant pile on without mentioning the other side is harmful. because not only does it not change anything in society for us, it causes even more backlash, racism, and hate towards us. that's what these types of one-sided statements do. and arab/muslim activists are left with double the work, at home and in our heritage countries. because we are actually trying to change conditions for the better.
why is it okay only to criticise us, our countries, and our people, but not speak up on our behalf? and when the people who do speak up in favour and support of us get backlash and blacklisted, that's what is acceptable? are we are not people worthy of living and worthy of respect? do we not deserve empathy? or should we always 24/7 cater to white fragility over our own needs? 🙏
this is a case of intersectionality and i understand very well the pros and cons of what the anthropology and sociology communities have termed 'white feminism.' and i would encourage everyone to take the time and read about intersectional feminism, positive allyship, and what it means to help communities of colour around the world. because there are homegrown grassroots efforts and allies who are doing good work to actually *improve* the status of women and minorities in saudi arabia! and we should continue to support *these* efforts and not empty words 🫶
and many kudos to former swedish player hedvig lindahl who is probably one of the only female footballers who is using her platform to continuously (not just one tweet or throwaway lines in a column) bring awareness to the genocide in palestine. but i also have to recognise english former player gary lineker and lise klaveness, egil olson, and the norway football federation for their efforts too! impressed by the scandis 🫡
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ratbastarddotfuck · 1 month ago
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if you're a white person taking pleasure in the idea that Trump voters of colour are experiencing racist violence from white trumpers because "they got what's coming to them" I don't think you're anti-racist at all, I think you were just waiting for an acceptable target, and you're also fucking weird.
Bad Person Deserves Punishment For Their Sins give me a fucking break and get yourself out of the fucking catholic church. you're all prison abolitionists until you see someone you don't like.
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giantkillerjack · 7 months ago
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Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!
You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!
You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!
You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!
Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!
Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!
So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.
Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!
You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.
Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!
Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.
Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.
Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*
Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...
Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.
Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.
Better not get confident.
Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)
Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people
- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties
- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations
- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you
- you might start loving the effect you have on a room
- you might enjoy conversations more
- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently
- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations
- you might stop apologizing so much.
- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.
Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!
Why, it would be carnage!!
In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!
If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:
- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.
- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.
- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.
- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.
You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.
So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.
#social skills#i have a few posts now in my ' social skills' tag#original#maybe eventually I will compile them and polish them in some meaningful way. I know what I want to call the book title#in big text it'll say 'I'M AUTISTIC' and then beneath that in smaller text 'And I Have Better Social Skills Than You'#or something to that effect. and the cover of the book will be me making an exaggerated smug face like the little rascal I am#challenging the viewer to pick up the book and see if they can prove me wrong.#and then the entire first section of the book is about how actually the issue with our society's social skills is the harsh judgment#for people who have trouble communicating and not the other way around. I don't actually think I'm the#most charismatic person in the world by a very long shot. but i do know that I have put more thought into my social skills than#most allistic people and frankly i have surpassed most of them. not because i am more persuasive or smooth or funny#(tho i am persuasive and funny lol) but bc i have questioned which social functions are more restriction than utility.#and instead i have focused my energy on actively learning how to make people feel safe. i feel social rules would benefit all people by#being a little more autistic tyvm. i don't think every person should dedicate themselves to being better at communicating#i think people should dedicate themselves to being kind and patient to everyone regardless of their ability to communicate#I think our society wrongly links communication ability to intelligence and intelligence to level of humanity.#when in fact all three of those things are fucking unrelated and connecting them inevitably leads to#really fucked up views on disabled people that hurt us. and then with that aspect of the book firmly understood and established I would#go on to recommend some ways to make socializing easier and more fulfilling (and less shameful and terrifying) for all kinds of people#it wouldn't be a book about Leaning In To Succeed in Business or 'here's how to avoid being the awkward loner at a party'#it'd be a book about how if you see someone alone at a party here's how to invite them to join your group without pressuring them#stuff like 'hot tip! if someone takes a while to type or speak a full sentence - talking over them b4 they can finish makes u an asshole!'#I know that a lot of people cannot or don't want to dump a lot of skill points into socializing like i did and they shouldn't have to in#order to experience basic dignity and respect. if we treat people like that then we just validate that people - especially#autistic children and elders and disabled people of manu varieties - have to suffer unless they learn all these arbitrary bullshit rules#and a lot of them are arbitrary bullshit! one of the reasons I throw people off so much is because I harmlessly break a lot of social rules#but I know I'm doing it and I'm not ashamed and people just don't know what to do with that! but a lot of them like it actually!!#i think it's a relief to be around someone so openly and unrelentingly weird bc what am I gonna do? judge you for being weird??#I only care if you're kind. not necessarily 'nice' or passive. Kind. Brave enough to care about people being treated well. Kind.#also I recognize that at least some of my ability to be openly weird is white privilege so that's important to acknowledge too
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calypsocolada · 6 months ago
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MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka
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(click here for part two!)
synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k
click here for my masterlist
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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?” 
You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again. 
Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?
You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya. 
But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since. 
Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived. 
When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed. 
You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet. 
Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons. 
It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds. 
In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile. 
“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes. 
When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind  it took shape. 
The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side. 
“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks. 
The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family. 
“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command. 
You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.
Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you. 
“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer. 
“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away. 
A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test. 
A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair. 
“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way. 
When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced. 
“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword. 
“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders. 
“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.  
“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.
“Shall we?”
But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood. 
You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.
“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.
“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station. 
You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart. 
That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.
“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.
“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew. 
“It’s quiet.”
“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room. 
“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.
“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of. 
“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work. 
“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.
“Do you need help?” 
“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you? 
“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.
“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.
“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way. 
“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.
“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head. 
“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”
“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.
“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. 
“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?
“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”
“Why’s that?”
“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.
“Not a fan?”
“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight. 
“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.
“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.
“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye. 
“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.
“You and Kanroji worked together?”
“Surprising, right?”
“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”
“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement. 
“Strong, fierce, never quit.”
“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”
“Thanked me?”
“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.
“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed. 
You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.
“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.
“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”
“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.
“Can’t.”
“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.
“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often. 
“And?”
“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.
“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”
“Giyu,”
“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp. 
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”
“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”
“Why?”
“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head. 
“You don’t. No one does.”
“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first. 
“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.” 
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.
“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly. 
“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game. 
“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”
“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”
“My inn isn’t too far.”
“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.
“No. I’m going back to my inn.”
“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’d do it for you.”
“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back. 
“Come back. Please.”
“You’re annoyingly persistent.”
“I just want you safe. That’s all.”
“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that. 
Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction. 
You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal. 
“Y/n? Are you alright?” 
“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”
“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?” 
“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.
“Ah! That’s right I did.”
You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.
“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.
Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.
Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen. 
You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed. 
You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another. 
Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.  
You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku. 
But you loved Giyu. 
You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.
And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.
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hurtblossom · 2 months ago
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Hello ?
Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!reader
Summary : It’s World Mental Health Day, and you get a call from a special someone.
Warning : None, just Fluff (for once), it’s short, use of she/her pronouns
Masterlist
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« So today, in honor of World Mental Health Day, we’re going to as you to call someone and ask them, about their day, ask them how they have been. » The woman on the other side of the camera assied Lando.
« Ugh, i hate calling people. » Lando whined, grabbing his phone, and going through his contact list.
« Come on, it’s for a good cause. » The woman smiled. « You just have to say : Hey, I was just thinking about you, just wanted to check in, and just start a conversation with the person? Is that okay with you? »
« Yeah sure. » Lando replies softly, looking at the name he chose.
« Do you know who you’re going to call already? » The woman asked.
« Yup. » Lando pressed the call button; and put the speaker on. « I just hope she’s going to replay, she doesn’t like to speak on the phone either »
After a White, a feminine voice could be heard on the other side of the phone. « Hi? »
« Hello love » Lando said softly, smiling at the phone. « I was just thinking about you, and i wanted to check on you, y’know, hear you voice. »
« That’s very nice Lan. » Y/N smiled, holding the phone against her ear. « I’ve been thinking about you too. »
« What have you been up to love ? How are you? » Lando asked again.
« I’m okay, i’ve been working, y’know how it is. » She replied softly.
« Just okay? » He frowned.
« Better if you were here. » She smiles and giggled.
« I can’t let you be just okay, love. I’ll have to come to see you. » He said, grinning down at the phone, forgeting about the people around him.
« I’m happy you called, i needed that. Thank you. » She said softly. « I’ve missed you. »
« I’ve missed you too, love. I’m happy i called too. » He replied in the same tone. He looked around remembering all the team watching him. « I have to go film, love, i’ll call you back asap. »
« It’s okay, good luck today, Lan. I love you. »
« I love you too. Let me know if you need anything, okay? » He asked.
« Mhm, i will. Take care, don’t overwork yourself » She almost whispered.
« I won’t. You know I won’t. » Lando laughed a little. « Okay then. Take care, okay? I love you. »
« I love you too » Y/N blushed, smiling.
« I’ll see you soon love, I promise. » He said in a whisper.
« I’ll be waiting for you », after a few seconds, Y/N hung up, letting Lando contemplate a black screen.
As the call ended, Lando found himself staring at the black screen, a lingering smile on his face. For a moment, everything else seemed to fade away—cameras, lights, the crew around him—it was just him and the warmth of that conversation.
The woman on the other side of the camera smiled knowingly. “That sounded like more than just a casual check-in. You want to share a little more about her?”
Lando leaned back in his chair, still holding his phone loosely. “She’s... someone really special,” he said, his voice softer than usual. "You know when someone knows you inside out? Like, they get you in a way no one else does?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like it’s more than just a friend, Lando. Why did you pick her to call?"
Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because she makes me feel grounded. No matter how crazy things get, she’s always there, reminding me who I really am.”
The woman tilted her head, giving him a playful grin. “And you’re sure that’s the only reason?”
Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe there’s a little more to it than that.”
The woman leaned in closer, her tone gentle. “What are you waiting for, then? You said you’ll see her soon. Is that something you want to keep as a promise?”
Lando’s smile deepened, his eyes softening as he looked at the camera. “Yeah, it’s a promise. I’ve been away for too long, and I miss her more than I can explain.”
He glanced down at his phone, his heart warming as he thought about Y/N’s laugh, the way she always made him feel at home, no matter how far away he was. "I’ll see her soon," he repeated, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "And when I do, I’ll make sure she knows how much she means to me."
The woman watched him with a knowing smile, sensing that there was more to the story than Lando was willing to share on camera. "I think she already knows, Lando."
He smiled, nodding slowly. "Yeah, but I want to remind her."
The woman grinned. “Well, I think she’s waiting for you, so don’t keep her too long.”
Lando chuckled again, feeling lighter after the call. “I won’t. Promise.”
With that, the woman wrapped up the segment, but Lando’s thoughts remained on Y/N. As the cameras were turned off and the lights dimmed, his heart was already counting down the moments until they’d be together again. And this time, he wouldn’t let the distance keep them apart for so long.
NDA : I'm a bit late, but take care of your loved one guys, make sure to check on them, and if you guys need someone, a friend to talk to, you can come to me.
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piastappies · 3 months ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 BEFORE US! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ
pairing. ollie bearman x webber!reader.
summary. a drunken encounter leads to a history straight out of rom–com, turning the world of a formula 2 driver upside down.
notes. reader tells ollie the plot of before sunrise. also, reader is said to be ollie’s age (kinda self-indulgent LOL) maybe part 2 of them meeting in spa? 😁
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it was eleven in the evening, while you were having a good time on the streets of hungarian capital city. your actions were not exactly responsible as you were there with a friend of yours that you met online a few months ago. also, you weren’t exactly sure how you managed to strain away from your father and oscar. well, alright — there was a possibility that a train, a sweet smile and a promise to be safe were involved.
honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in that small bar, but in the larger point of view, you were happy that you let lara drag you there. you already had a few drinks in, you were going back to your booth, when you accidentally bumped into a muscular, tall guy, spilling the drink on your white dress.
“shit, i am so, so sorry.” the boy — because you could easily notice that he must’ve been similar to you in age — spoke relatively slowly, probably out of kindness as he couldn’t tell if you were fluent in english or not. some would call it offensive, but you considered it slightly endearing that the boy tried to be as considerate as possible, knowing that not everyone in the world speaks english.
his face fell to your chest for a tenth of a second, a small cough escaping his lips, before his cheeks tinted pinkish from embarrassment that he even let himself be so blatantly disrespectful towards you. what made it even worse was that the once white dress became see-through.
“shit, shit, your dress. i– here, take this.” he stuttered, swiftly taking off his grey hoodie, letting you take a glimpse of his toned stomach for half a second as his shirt rolled up.
people around you two, suddenly stopped existing and maybe the alcohol you’ve consumed that night was at fault — or maybe it was the charming aura around him, but you honestly couldn’t care less. he was the only guy that wasn’t trying to harass you or make your night less fun and definitely more stressful.
“you shouldn’t apologise, it’s all my fault. i wasn’t paying enough attention.” your voice was loud, but yet still soft enough, so only the boy you bumped into could hear you. “i’m yn, my friend lara is there in the corner booth, do you… um, maybe wanna join us? so i can get you a drink for bumping into you?”
it might’ve been a risky move — he could always say no, laugh at you and go away, thinking you were the most embarrassing person in the entire bar. or he could think that you were a pretty cute, interesting girl that he’d like to spend a july evening with. and, fortunately for you, ollie introduced himself with a quick breath of relief (that he didn’t know he was holding), said that he’d love to join you and buy you a drink, but he was there with two other guys and one of the friends’ girlfriend.
so, upon hearing that, as a responsible human being, you… suggested that they should join you as well, because you really felt like getting to know ollie a tad better. upon hearing that he wasn’t there alone, you nodded with a small smile, before suggesting that it’s not really a big deal and that maybe the four of them would like to join you and lara, who wouldn’t have anything against it since she was a social butterfly, loving bigger crowds.
two and a half hour later, you ended up walking down the cobblestone pathway, while your newfound group of friends was a few steps ahead. lara quickly got along with kimi, eliska and gabriele, so you felt less guilty that you got so occupied in the endless conversation with ollie, slowly trailing behind the group. a month or two later, you were told by eliska that she saw the way you and ollie click and made sure you could get along.
you weren’t sure where the six of you were going, budapest was a gorgeous city, but keeping your eyes on bearman was pretty much enough. he had your arm hooked around his as you slightly started to stumble from the tiny gaps in the path. a giggle escaped your mouth as he whispered a really cheesy joke, his lips inches away from your ear. then, your drunken mind thought that you should come clean with the cute boy about why you’re actually in budapest.
“i have a confession.” you started quietly, your words barely above a whisper. ollie let you continue as he simply nodded. if you weren’t tipsy from all the strawberry daiquiris you had at the bar earlier, you would notice how his body tensed slightly, almost as if he was afraid of what you were about to say.
the first thing that came to his mind was that you had a boyfriend somewhere in monaco, while he was really getting a vibe from you that maybe you were interested in getting to know him as much as he wanted to get to know you. just half a second later came the thought that you knew who he was and it was just as awful. he hasn’t been in the spotlight of motorsport for a long time yet, but he was aware of how people’s perception on things change once they realise what he does, and he really, really didn’t want it to be the case with you.
“this is not something i usually tell people on the day i meet them, but you’re so genuine and so, so nice to me.” your words were coming off as rambling, though despite the lump in his throat, the prema driver couldn’t help but think that maybe he could live with the thought of you bumping into him on purpose if he could listen to your cute rambling for a few more minutes. “and i’m really enjoying spending time with you right now, and-and i don’t want you to think that i’m like a liar or something, because i really am not.”
“hey, breathe. whatever it is, i don’t think i’m gonna perceive you as a liar.” his quiet chuckle with a nervous undertone was enough for you to calm down a bit. his hand dropped to yours, squeezing it for a little more reassurance.
“that’s what i’m really hoping for.” you whispered, looking down at your jointed hands, a ghost of smile lingering on your face. “so, there’s this sport you might’ve heard of — or not, honestly if it wasn’t for my dad, i don’t know if i would, but — gosh, i’m sorry i’m rambling again. alright… there’s, um, formula one, right? i guess you know, because it is a big thing in england, i suppose.” oliver nodded once again, a pit in his stomach growing.
“the thing is… i’m in hungary for that exact reason. there was the grand prix this weekend and i came here with my dad, because, um… he’s a manager of, um, one of the drivers. oscar? he won today, yesterday, technically.”
ollie couldn’t believe what he just heard. he was so scared that you were pretending just to boast about hanging out with formula 2 and formula 3 drivers, while you were having an inner turmoil of your own, weighing pros and cons of telling him that you were the daughter of the mark webber. he could see the nervous expression on your pretty face and his heart swelled, knowing that in those two and a half hours of constant chatter he gained so much of your trust to be told that.
for other people it might seem like it was nothing, nevertheless ollie knew how much fake people you must’ve met in your life, who liked you for your father’s achievements and not you. god, for a moment he felt like crying.
“i was there too.” he gave you a shy smile. before you were able to overthink every possible scenario with the worst possible outcome, his smile widened, his hip gently nudging yours. “i’m racing for prema in f2.” he chuckled at your surprised expression.
bearman, as he was a tad more sober than you, could easily notice the weight falling off your shoulders, once you recognised him, quickly replaced by a blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks.
“that’s why i thought i’ve seen you somewhere.” you muttered, scrunching your nose, gears in your brain working overtime. “i’m sorry, it’s— i haven’t really been up to date with formula 2. but i remember you from saudi, i wasn’t there, but my dad was really impressed. everything makes sense now, though.”
“no need to be embarrassed or anything, i’m glad neither of us recognized each other. you made me feel like a normal teenager for once.” he grinned down at you, your face matching his as he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer, but you couldn’t really complain.
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you didn’t remember the moment, when your night turned into a reenactment of one of your favorite rom-coms — before sunrise. gabriele, kimi and eliska had to go back to their hotels, suspiciously at the same time, when lara’s curfew was coming. it was truly reckless for you to stay out with ollie till your train back to the place your father had rented for the four days stay in hungary. once you were alone, he made sure to keep you close to him at all times, so if an emergency occured, he’d be able to protect you.
“i feel like i’m in a movie.” your admission was soft as you slowly sat down on the grass in the park, the state of your white dress long forgotten as it’d be green once the sun was up.
“a movie you like?”
“my favorite one.” ollie smiled.
“tell me about it.” he suggested, plopping down next to you, uncorking the wine you two bought earlier in one of those 24/7 shops.
“it’s about two people that met on a train going across the europe.” you started explaining, ollie’s free arm slung across your shoulders once again, making you realize what his love language must be. “he’s american and she’s french, once they stop in vienna, he asks her to get off the train with him and walk around the town with him till he has to go to the airport, because it’s his last day in europe. she thinks it’s crazy, but she agrees and they spend the entire night together. nothing kubrick-esque happens there, all of the action happens during their dialogues. they share opinions and stuff. it’s kind of silly, but they end up in a park, too, with wine and stuff.”
“like us.” he commented, his eyes still lingering on your face as they were, while you were skimming over the plot of the movie.
“like us.” you repeated softly.
“so, what do they do in the park?” ollie asked another question, earning himself a small hum from you as you shifted closer, his thumb absentmindedly drawing shapes on your shoulder. your stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies as he asked all the right questions, made all the right moves, giving you all the right smiles.
“they kiss.” a whisper left your lips, tilting your head to get a better view of his face.
“they kiss.” it was the prema’s driver’s time to repeat the short sentence as you just nodded, noticing the way his eyes flickered to your mouth.
sweet silence embraced the two of you as bearman took his chance and leaned forward an inch or two, cautiously testing the waters. when you didn’t pull back, a smile tugged onto his face, before cupping your cheek with his free hand.
however, ollie didn’t kiss you for a moment that felt like eternity. his mouth just hoovered over yours, giving you a chance to back up, to show him that he read the signs wrong, but you didn’t. your eyes locked with his, before his lips were moving against yours in a sweet, gentle and almost tantalising manner. you couldn’t tell how long were you kissing for, but when the two of you finally pulled away, his mouth was tinted with the red shade of your lipstick, both with messed up hair and slightly swollen lips.
it was almost seven in the morning, while you were sitting at the train station with your hand clasped in ollie’s. the silence between you was truly the most comfortable thing in the world at the moment. budapest was slowly waking up in the background as you enjoyed his presence beside you.
“what do they do in the movie before they part ways?” he interrupted the silence.
“they promise to see each other in a six months time in the same place. they don’t exchange numbers or anything, though.” you recalled, wondering where was he going with this.
“and do they? meet, i mean.” he asked, already expecting the answer as you’d told him it was a trilogy.
“not in the set time. she can’t make it to vienna again, because her grandmother dies, but he does.” you nodded. “but they do meet each other again, eight years later, this time in paris.”
“good thing we’re not jesse and celine.” ollie joked, a grin tugging on your lips as you nod in agreement. “i do have your number, and we can see each other in spa on thursday, if you want to.”
“i do.” this time, you were the one to press a gentle kiss on his lips for a brief second as your train arrived. bearman just grinned back at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “i’ll see you on facetime then, and in belgium.”
ollie stayed for another five minutes after your train departed. his gaze dropping to the phone in his hand before he quickly sent you a message.
ollie: thank you for making this night amazing for me x
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nthspecialll · 6 months ago
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The fandom glorifies Arthur Morgan
Now I am not talking about about low honor, I play high honor and got it as the top at the end of every damn playthrough but my Arthur, as it is the cannon Arthur, is not a good guy. I am not going to talk about all of the murder, robbing and stuff he does, because we are majorly aware of it, I am talking his sexism, casual ignorance and disrespecfulness.
I quite often see people say that Arthur Morgan is a woman lover, and he definitely is, he is better than a lot of men from that time (which isn't hard), but he would not hold up in modern times, because he is not from modern times.
Generally speaking, Arthur Morgan is a man who believes in gender roles, he believes in the idea of "a man being a man" and "a woman being a woman." He has opinions about what a woman should do and what a man should do.
I think the biggest hint at this is his relationship with Sadie, because while he accepts her running with the boys he doesn't seem entirely happy about it. "You got a pair of pants and all of a sudden you think you're Landon Ricketts?" "You want to ruuuunnnn with the men?" and also "can Ms Grimshaw spare you?" when the girls asks if they can come to Valentine with him.
Talking of that quest, when he runs off to get Jimmy Brooks he puts Uncle, a lazy old bastard, in charge of getting the girls home even though they are more than capable of doing it themselves as they are healthy young women who knows how to handle horses.
In several antagonize lines against women performers (which are just as cannon as his greet lines) he shouts things like "That isn't very ladylike!" or "Go back to the kitchen" and "go make someone supper."
People keep saying Arthur would "treat them right" and he would, to an extent, he would care for you, he would be nice to you, but he would force those gender roles. He does have a belief women are somehow "softer" and that he as a person with a provider gene should do more of the harsh work.
So now we covered that, lets talk about the racism, or as I probably should rather call it, ignorance, because it is very commonly know Arthur does not judge by the color of skin.
The first one is that Arthur uses the whites-only saloon in Rhodes. Tilly mentions it to Arthur that they don't allow people of color into it, and yet he still supports it, it isn't a big thing but it is something of notice.
Secondly, when he talks to Eagle Flies where he "sets him in his place" Arthur, honey, you are so wrong here. Eagle Flies is being chased by the government for the mere fact that he exists with a different culture, you are being chased because you murdered so many folks, you can run across the sea and live a good life, they are fucked regardless.
When we first arrive in Lemoyne, Lenny and Arthur talks about the Lemoyne Raiders about racism and Arthur says "These boys got a manner about them but I haven't particularly noticed," Arthur of course you wouldn't, you are a tall, muscular, white man with sun kissed hair and blue eyes, you are the poster boy for eugenics.
Lastly, which will also bring me to the third point, the casual disrespect:
Arthur causally calling Javier a slur on the boat for no reason, did you really need that one-liner so badly? That goes for a lot of times in the game such as: "are you secretly normal" "what a lunatic" "we should find a better story for that scar" "But you continue to irritate me, I will kill you and make my appologies to the lady" "stick around and you might die for her as well" "oh I didn't know I was talking to a lady." All those were a slight bit disrespectful, enough to be able to annoy the majority of us if he said it to us, and they were also unnecessary.
He is also canonically chronically late, most notably we can hear Sean saying "that man will be late to his own funeral," and when you go around antagonizing characters in camp they are not surprised at all, rather they go "back at it again huh?"
All of this is just to sum up, Arthur is a pretty bad man (also counting in all the illegal stuff) and we tend to glorify him and forget some of these things, partly is also because Rockstar are amazing at hiding them, at making them seem natural, and they are because this is a historically accurate game! It is set in 1899 and this is a man from 1899 he is going to be casually sexist and disrespectful, and again, considering that he is from 1899 he is a decent guy because the majority of folk would be like Micah, not Arthur.
I definitely love Arthur, and I love Arthur exactly because the point of his character is him not being a saint but a human. His redemption is choosing to do good where he can, but even so, this is a man in 1899 and he is going to have a 1899 mindset. If you want to play a game that is set in the past but don't have that type of accuracy it is not Red Dead you want to play.
Also here is an Arthur pic as a thank you for reading all of that. I love him.
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cryptidghostgirl · 10 months ago
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could you do Alastor and Lucifer with an Living! Adams Family! Reader?
A/N duh. this idea was so fun!! It's giving Beetlejuice in the best way
I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Reader x Lucifer)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mention of suicide in reference to Dante's Inferno. Bones. Art made from bones.
Word Count: 1,655
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n sat before the summoning circle as she lit the las candle. It was a Friday and she was bored, what else was she supposed to be doing besides following some probably fake spell she found in a book she'd thrifted? She took after her mother in that regard but had wound up with her fathers rather flamboyant personality.
"Now, what are those words..." she mumbled to herself, turning the odd slip of paper the spell had been written on over.
Her eyes glazed over them and she cleared her throat.
"Spirits from beyond, I call you Lucifer, who first cursed us, I call you to me. Lucifer, who commands the legions of the dead, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Lucifer, wicked, heartless beast, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you!"
Y/n looked up from the paper in excitement, a look which quickly dimmed as absolutely nothing happened before her eyes. She turned back to the paper, squinting to read the cramped letters.
"Okay, wait. Theres another name here. Uh, spirits from beyond, I call you. Alastor, keeper of the dark defeat, I call you to me. Alastor, demonic overlord, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Alastor, both hunter and hunted, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you."
Again, her work failed to yield any results. Y/n stayed seated for a moment, waiting. When it was clear to her that the spell had not in fact done it's job, she sighed and got to her feet.
"Well that was a waste of a half hour."
She turned on the lights before leaning forward and grabbing the nearest candle. With a short breath of air, she blew it out only, somehow, all the candles seemed to go out as she did this, even the scented one on the shelf that hadn't been involved in the ritual.
"Oh there is no way." Y/n smiled, anticipation bubbling in her chest, "There is literally no way!"
The lights began to flicker as she placed the candle she was holding on the desk. The minute it hit the table's surface, the room fell into a short spell of darkness. As the lights flickered back on, Y/n saw two men standing in the center of the circle.
Well, men was a strong word. They were both humanoid in shape but, neither really looked like people. They looked around the room in shock, taking in every detail before their eyes landed on each other.
The taller of the two demons, the one all in red and holding an old fashioned looking microphone, widened his already close to horrific smile. The smaller one, dressed in all white, narrowed his eyes.
"You." the man in white sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course I had to get summoned with you."
"There is literally no way." Y/n exclaimed, cutting off the red demon as he opened his mouth to speak.
Both men turned to Y/n, in her black dress with her wide excited eyes.
"Ah." the red demon hummed, his voice coming out like radio static as he straightened his jacket, "You must be the one who summoned us. I am Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Yes, quite the pleasure."
Y/n turned her gaze to the demon in white.
"So that means you must be Lucifer. It is such an honor to meet you."
"Huh." Lucifer smiled slightly, "Now that's more like it. Wait, you're not one of those freaks, are you?"
"Freaks?" Y/n asked, her head cocked slightly to the side and her brow furrowed.
"One of those oh! You brought evil to the world! You're my idol people." Lucifer imitated animatedly.
Alastor shot him an irritated look as Y/n's eyes widened and she shook her head.
"No no no! They have it all wrong. You didn't bring evil, you gave us the greatest gift of all. You have us free will, self determination. The ability to be exactly who we are and want to be."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, crossing his arms over his chest with a self satisfied smile.
"Oh I like her. Pretty and she knows her stuff?"
Y/n blushed slightly, looking away. She clasped her hands behind her back. Alastor didn't like that.
"Yes, quite the charming girl indeed." he hummed through gritted teeth, meeting Y/n's eyes.
"And Alastor..." she put a finger to her lip in thought, "Alastor... I am really sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't think I have ever heard of you before."
His eye twitched and Lucifer's grin widened.
"Well, my dear, I just so happen to be one of the most powerful overlords in all the rings of Hell."
"Huh. Neat."
"So, what have you called us here to do?" Lucifer asked amiably.
"Oh, well, I hadn't really though that far. Um..." she looked around the space of her room.
There wasn't anything she really wanted. Y/n had a comfortable life, a loving family. Anyone she wanted revenge on she was more than capable of taking care of on her own. Mostly, she was just bored.
Nodding her head once, she walked up to the edge of the summoning circle and promptly sat down. Her legs crossed, she adjusted the long skirt of her dress over her knees.
"Let's just chat."
Alastor and Lucifer exchanged a confused look.
"You are going to have to ask us for something, my dear." Alastor hummed pleasantly, "Otherwise we wont be able to go home. That's how this little game works, after all."
"So, I am asking you to chat. Do you guys want any drinks or something?"
With a shrug to Alastor, Lucifer sat down on the floor with his legs crossed as well. With a reluctant sigh, Alastor followed suit.
"So, what is Hell like?" Y/n asked eagerly, "Is it dark and full of bugs? It can't really be all fire and lava pits like all the art says. I mean, Dante's version of Hell makes more sense than that. Oh my gosh, is there a suicide forest? I always loved that idea, that they turn into trees. That they get the most peaceful of the options, is it real?"
"Well, there are trees." Lucifer began carefully.
"But they are not made of people's souls. No, it's actually rather close to this world down below." Alastor finished for him.
"Really? You guys have like jobs and stuff?"
"Some of us do. I am actually currently involved in a project helping to rehabilitate sinners. 'Check out of Hell and into Heaven,' that's the whole idea of the thing."
"Like you actually believe in that." Lucifer scoffed and Alastor raised a hand to his chest in false ofence.
"You... are you questioning my motives?"
"Not cool man." Y/n shook her head, "That sounds like a pretty cool project, I didn't even know something like that was possible."
Before Alastor could reply, Lucifer cut in.
"It is my daughter's project, and we aren't actually sure its possible yet."
"You have a daughter!? Is she the antichrist?"
"We-"
"Charlie Morningstar is her name." Alastor interrupted Lucifer, "And she is quite powerful. Talented too."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, glaring at him.
"Don't start this shit again."
"It's not my fault I've been there for her more than you have."
"It's more complicated than that."
"Sure it is."
At a sudden peal of bell like laughter from Y/n, the demons stopped their bickering and turned to her. She held a hand over her mouth as she tried to calm herself.
"Are you guys always like this?"
Lucifer and Alastor exchanged another look before nodding. Y/n lowered her hand, still smiling brightly.
"Maybe I'll ask you to stick around."
"You... aren't like a lot of other humans I've met in my time." Lucifer admitted.
"Strange and unusual."
"What?" Lucifer asked.
Y/n shrugged.
"That's how most people describe me. Strange and unusual. Or wonderously strange, if you ask my dad."
"Well, there is nothing wrong with that." Alastor hummed, "Strange and unusual is the best way to be. Keeps things interesting."
"Oh, no. I know. I didn't mean it in like a sob-story way. Just like, that's how I am. I don't know."
"Not a lot of people summon us. Especially not just to chat." Lucifer stated and Y/n smiled.
"What can I say, I was bored."
"You summoned us because you were bored?" Alastor repeated, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah. My friends were all busy and I love my parents but I do not love being around them on their Friday date nights let me tell you. The dancing is cute but the sword fighting when some old flame of my mother's shows up as they do every couple months? Terribile. Nothing blocks out the clang of steel against steel."
"Sounds like you come from a rather interesting family." Lucifer noted.
"Strange and unusual. I don't come from nowhere."
"Well, aren't you a gem in this dull world." Alastor mused and Y/n looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed again.
"I don't know about that, but I certainly try. Oh! Do you guys like bones? I don't know, is that a dumb question? Was it rude? Racist? Wait. Hell-cist? No that feels wrong too."
Lucifer chuckled slightly.
"Why do you ask?"
"I have a pretty big selection. Mostly deer bones."
Alastor's ears twitched.
"Deer bones?"
"Yeah." she nodded, "We eat a lot of venison at home and ever since I was a kid, my dad let me keep the bones to do projects with and the like. I have a lovely wind chime I made using parts of a spine but, sadly, its at my parents house."
"Strange and unusual." Alastor hummed.
"Strange and unusual." Y/n nodded.
----
A/N I was lowkey not sure how to end this one, I am sorry about that. I hope you liked it!!
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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months ago
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Sexual love - Lewis Hamilton
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Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: Sexual love - Maeta - @goldenroutledge
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: fluff (i know i said it before, but this one is really simp Lewis)
wordcount: +1k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The room buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of hairspray and perfume as the stylists flutter around me, making final adjustments to my hair and makeup.
I can see the way they glance at me through the mirror, a few murmurs here and there about how the dress is coming along, but I’m honestly barely paying attention.
My focus is on Lewis—leaning casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing that exists in the room.
And maybe to him, I am.
I try to ignore the way his gaze burns into me, the warmth of it creeping up my spine, settling low in my stomach.
He’s always looked at me like that—since the very beginning. You’d think by now, I’d be used to it. That I’d have built some kind of immunity to the intensity in his eyes, the way his stare alone can undo me, piece by piece.
Yeah, no. It still makes me feel like I’m twenty again, like I’m standing in front of him for the first time, unsure if I can handle everything that comes with being loved by him.
The stylist steps back, brushing a few stray strands of hair to the right place, and I catch my own reflection for the first time since I stood up.
The dress hugs me in all the right places, a deep open back, with off white complimenting my skin tone.
But when I glance up again, catching Lewis’s gaze in the mirror, the heat in his eyes tells me he’s seeing something else entirely.
Something that’s making his hands twitch at his sides, his jaw clench like he’s holding back.
The corner of my mouth twitches up, a small smile breaking through. Oh, he’s gone tonight.
I take a slow breath, lifting one shoulder in a mock stretch, just to see what it does to him to see my back muscles. His eyes darken, and I feel a thrill knowing I still have that effect on him.
God, it’s intoxicating. I could have a whole team of people in this room, and it still wouldn’t matter. The only person who matters right now is Lewis, standing there, devouring me with his eyes.
I slide my hands down the sides of the dress, smoothing out the fabric, my fingers grazing my hips as I shift slightly. His gaze follows the movement, and I can practically feel the restraint in him.
His body language, the heat radiating from him, the way his eyes are glued to me—it’s all speaking loud enough.
“Y/n, I’m going to grab the other options for you,” the stylist says, interrupting my thoughts.
I nod, murmuring something polite, but my mind is elsewhere—on Lewis, on the way I can feel his presence like gravity pulling me toward him.
As the stylist leaves, I fully catch Lewis taking a step closer, closing the distance. His eyes flicker to my reflection in the full-length mirror, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
It’s just me, him, and the crackling tension in the air.
“You like this one?” I ask, my voice soft but teasing, knowing full well what his answer will be.
He doesn’t respond immediately, but his lips curve into a slow, appreciative smile. “You know what you’re doing, babe.” His voice is low, like he’s holding back something more.
I laugh, but it’s breathy, affected by the way he’s looking at me like I’m something to be unwrapped, savored. “Come on, Lewis. You’ve been staring at me for the last twenty minutes. If you have a preference, now’s the time to tell me.”
He moves in closer, his hands coming to rest gently on my hips, fingers skimming the fabric as he pulls me back against him. The warmth of his chest presses into my back, and I can feel the slow rise and fall of his breath, steady but charged.
“The dress is beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “But it’s not the dress I’m looking at.”
I close my eyes for a second, biting back a smile as I feel his breath on my neck.
He’s impossible when he gets like this—when he’s so consumed by me that it feels like nothing else in the world matters.
“You’re supposed to help me pick, not distract me,” I tease, but my voice is softer now, more vulnerable, because despite the lightness of my words, there’s a part of me that’s overwhelmed by how much I still want him—by how much he still wants me.
“I am helping,” he says, his hands sliding down my waist, fingers tracing the curve of my hips. “This is me helping.”
I turn around to face him, locking eyes, and the way he looks at me—God…
His hands are gentle, but his grip is firm, like he’s holding onto something he never wants to let go of.
“You look incredible, Y/n. Like… I don’t even know how to describe it.” His voice is rough, a sincerity that he rarely lets spill out like this. “Every time I see you like this, it’s like I forget how to breathe for a second.”
I feel my heart skip at his words, and I try to keep my composure, but it’s hard when he’s looking at me like I’m his whole world. “You’ve seen me like this a hundred times, Lewis.”
“Not like this,” he says, shaking his head. “Never like this. You just get better, babe. And I still can’t believe you’re mine. That I get to call you my wife.”
And I know it’s teenager like but it amazes me, how even after all this time, he still sees me. Not just the surface, not just the polished exterior everyone else sees, but me.
The woman who’s stood by him, built a life with him, and even after everything, he’s still in awe.
I reach up, brushing my fingers against his beard, my voice softer now. “I’m still here. We’re still us.”
His hand comes up to cover mine, pressing my palm against his skin as he leans into my touch. “Yeah, we are. And I’m never going to stop being grateful for that.”
It’s just us—this moment, this life we’ve built together. And the fact that even now, after all the years, the highs, and the lows, he still looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted.
“Come on, we’ll be late,” I say softly, though I make no move to step away from him.
He chuckles, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I don’t care if we’re late. Let them wait. Right now, I just want to look at you.”
And I let him—because in this room, I’m not just Lewis Hamilton’s wife. I’m his world. The woman who still makes him weak, who he’ll never stop wanting, and I know—because he won’t shut up about it—that I’ll always be that for him.
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf
@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo
@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
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standamianwayne · 5 days ago
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yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader
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stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)
i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.
selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.
barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.
her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.
okay i know that in the current run helena isn’t biologically related to bruce/selina, butttt idc i want her and the twins to be bio siblings. like it was reader and damian for so long and all of a sudden they get like 8 new siblings? it’d be pretty awkward for a while, but i think reader and helena would both really want a sister. so like while the others are great, i think they bond easy over being Bruce’s blood daughters and what that entails. especially since helena’s mom is catwoman (vigilante) and reader’s mom is talia (assassin).
reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.
cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.
stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)
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now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!
heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.
also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.
anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️
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kaivenom · 8 months ago
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I just found your blog looking for Spencer white fics and yours are so good! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something between spider and a gn reader who finds it really attractive when he speaks French (cause that scene did something to me-)
Thank you for feeding the small amount of hbh fics🙏🙏
French cuisine
Summary: you go to Spencer's house and found him cooking, you decide to help him and you discover he can speak french.
Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x gn!reader
A/N: Sorry that this had taken so long, college is starting the final section before exams an i am going crazy. Words on cursive are the translation from french.
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It was an ussual Friday, you were going to Spencer's house, see some movies and eat popcorn. When you entered the house with the keys you borrowed, a french song was playing on the background, that was strange you thought, it must be his mother. Following the song, you found Spencer in the kitchen with an apron full of flour and humming the song.
"Look what we have here, the perfect 50's housewife," you joked while you get to hugh him from behind.
"Bonjour." he asked with a smile.
"Bonjour."
"Comment allez-vous?" you didn't understand anything and that made you question things.
"Wait, don't tell me you know how to speak french?"
"Yeah, i know, but i don't have to do it everytime... it's awful when people ask me: can you say something in french? or things like that."
"But you could have told me, i am your girlfriend." you tightened your grip among his waist and made a pout.
"I don't like to brag about it, but now you know."
"Yeah, right. What you said to me before?"
"How are you?" he turned around and kissed your forehead.
"Good, you?"
"Bon." something on the form he said it, made you blush.
"I suppose that means good."
"Correct." he put a finger with fluor on your nose, painting it white.
"Can you say more to me?" you make puppy eyes and like always, he can't resist.
"Tu es très belle," your heart skipped a heartbeat, you didn't know what he said but hearing him talking in french was exciting you more every secon. "i said you are very beautiful."
"Yeah?" his hands went to your cheeks and kissed you.
"Tu es la meilleure personne du monde." his lips drain your soul with every word and every kiss in between. You are the best person in the world
"Tell me more, please."
"Je t'aime... tes lèvres... ton corps... tes sons." his kisses increased, in speed, in intensity and passion, he was starting to feel very aroused by your reaction. I love you... your lips... your body... your sounds.
"I don't know what you said but i do too." you both laughed inoccently, for a moment unaware from the steamy interaction you both were having.
"Je veux faire du sexe avec toi." a moan almost escaped your mouth, you only understood one word and that was enough.
Then you started to smell burnt but apparently Spider was so concentrated in kissing your lips and neck, that he had forgotten he was cooking and also that he had things on the pans... that now are burning.
"How do you say the kitchen is on fire?"
"La cuisine est en feu." only a second was needed before he understood your words.
You both had to run to turn off the fire and open the windows to vent the kitchen. Nothing was saved from the disaster so you decided to order some french food to honor the ocassion and finish what you both started.
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maaarine · 1 year ago
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Men Just Don't Trust Women -- And It's A Huge Problem (Damon Young, Huffington Post, Mar 16 2015)
"Generally speaking, we (men) do not believe things when they're told to us by women.
Well, women other than our mothers or teachers or any other woman who happens to be an established authority figure.
Do we think women are pathological liars? No.
But, does it generally take longer for us to believe something if a woman tells it to us than it would if a man told us the exact same thing? Definitely!
This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.
When the concept of trust is brought up, it's usually framed in the context of actions; of what we think a person is capable of doing.
If you trust someone, it means you trust them not to cheat. Or steal. Or lie. Or smother you in your sleep.
By this measure, I definitely trust my wife. I trust the shit out of her.
I also trust her opinions about important things. I trusted that she'd make a great wife, and a trust that she'll be a great mother. And I trust that her manicotti won't kill me.
But you know what I don't really trust? What I've never actually trusted with any women I've been with? Her feelings.
If she approaches me pissed about something, my first reaction is "What's wrong?"
My typical second reaction? Before she even gets the opportunity to tell me what's wrong? "She's probably overreacting."
My typical third reaction? After she expresses what's wrong? "Ok. I hear what you're saying, and I'll help. But whatever you're upset about probably really isn't that serious."
I'm both smart and sane, so I don't actually say any of this aloud. But I am often thinking it.
Until she convinces me otherwise, I assume that her emotional reaction to a situation is disproportionate to my opinion of what level of emotional reaction the situation calls for.
Basically, if she's on eight, I assume the situation is really a six.
I'm speaking of my own relationship, but I know I'm not alone. (…)
There's an obvious parallel here with the way (many) men typically regard women's feelings and the way (many) Whites typically regard the feelings of non-Whites.
It seems like every other day I'm reading about a new poll or study showing that (many) Whites don't believe anything Black people say about anything race/racism-related until they see it with their own eyes.
Personal accounts and expressions of feelings are rationalized away; only "facts" that have been carefully vetted and verified by other Whites and certain "acceptable" Blacks are to be believed.
So how do we remedy this? And can it even be remedied? I don't know.
This distrust of women's feelings is so ingrained, so commonplace that I'm not even sure we (men) realize it exists."
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viasdreams · 3 months ago
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Nightwalker ཐི❤︎ཋྀ ~ ok throat goat!!
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the plan was simple: channel his inner chenle to make yn dislike him.
easy.
hyuck knew that if he were to be himself, yn would instantly fall head over heels for him, just like any other woman would.
acting like chenle should, in theory, make him off-putting and unlikeable, thus keeping yn away from him.
it was going to be a difficult feat for a smooth guy like him, but he needed to push away all his charisma and charm for mark's sake.
the first two hours of his shift consisted of hyuck planning out what he was going to say while kun was trying to train him and then subsequently getting scolded for messing up.
"no that goes in the romance section, not young adult. remember to read the barcode donghyuck."
"right, right, my bad."
"it's ok man, you'll get the hang of it eventually" kun said, flashing him a sympathetic look from the other side of the bookcase.
they sorted books in silence for a while, hyuck slowly getting the system down when the bell on the door chimed.
kun turned towards the door but hyuck didn't have to look to know who just walked in.
yn.
he recognized your scent the second the door cracked open.
usually, all the different smells of people blended together, creating a sort of dull aroma. but your scent was unique. it was stronger than all the others, overtaking the bland stench as it flooded his nostrils.
you smelled naturally sweet, like honey if it was cultivated by the hardest working bees in the most productive hive, using the prettiest flowers, on the most perfect spring day.
all he could do was stare at you wide-eyed as kun stood to greet you.
"hi are you yn?"
"yes i am, its nice to meet you!"
kun extended his hand but quickly stopped when he saw the white bandages wrapped around your right hand.
"oh i didn't see that, my bad." he awkwardly studdered.
"no its totally fine, don't worry about it." you asured him, holding your injured hand to your chest.
hyucks eyes immediately locked on the small red stain showing through the covering, his mouth staring to salivate.
realizing what was happening, he aggressively slapped his cheeks to stop his growing thirst, drawing the attention of his coworkers.
"donghyuck are you alright?" kun questioned.
hyuck fervently nodded in response, eyes still trained on your hand.
"anyways, im going to grab some paperwork for you from the office real quick. feel free to look around in the meantime." kun smiled as he headed toward the back of the store.
hyuck tried to look busy sorting the books, keeping his head down to hopefully deter you from coming over. he was for sure putting everything in the wrong place but that was of no importance to him at the moment.
despite his efforts, you immediately walked to the shelf he was at.
"you're donghyuck right? we met the other day when i came in for an application."
he slowly turned to face you, readying himself to be a complete ass, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt his tongue graze against two very sharp fangs.
"i-" , he slammed both hands over his mouth, "i'm donghyuck."
you stared back at him, caught off guard by his actions.
"um so what made you want to work at a bookstore? personally, i just really needed a job but i would imagine other people that work here probably like reading or something."
"yeah i-", his mind was blank, all other thoughts covered by the notion of drinking your blood again, "i book."
"you what? sorry i missed that because your hands are covering," you waved your hands over your lower face, "your mouth."
hyuck's eyes followed your hand as it moved, quickly darting back and forth. you caught this, furrowing your eyebrows in further confusion.
being this close to you had only caused his thirst to grow tenfold. he knew that if he were to open his mouth again, his fangs would once more find their way into the soft flesh of your palm.
so instead of talking, he turned around and sped walked into the office.
"kun, i don't feel good and if i don't go home right now im going to spew chunks all over the sci-fi section." he faked heaved into his still cupped hands to really sell his act.
"oh um yeah sure go home. text me tomorrow if you're still feeling bad and i'll cover your shift." kun replied, slowly backing up to get out of hyuck's potential splash zone.
"thanks man!" hyuck yelled as he raced to the door, avoiding your puzzled gaze as he passed.
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previous ~ masterlist ~ next
a/n: sorry for not updating this for a literal year (5 days), wont happen again guys !!
taglist: @miyawwn @nanaxwi @mystverse @mmoonlee @chenlesfavorite @dudekiss3r @honeynanamin @nctjunie @nneteyamss @iamsimplyasimp @roseangelxfuma @haechsworld @kirbrary @hyuck-me @catpjimin @toyoongg @sthwaaberry @kim-seungmins-gf @sunghoonsgfreal @sunflowerhae @galacticnct @slayhaechan @multifandomania @jasluvsjae @injunnie-lemon
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callmebrycelee · 5 months ago
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I've been mulling this over for the last few days and I figured I'd just put what I'm thinking out there in hopes that someone will understand what I'm coming from. I'm reading a wonderful fanfic where Buck leaves the 118 and goes to work at Air Operations. He is paired with Tommy and the two of them strike up a friendship and an eventual romance. I'm only a few chapters into the story and there's a conversation where Buck and Tommy are relaying their backstories to each other. Buck talks about getting crushed by the fire engine, the subsequent surgery and setback, and him suing the LAFD. Tommy talks about his time in the Army and ultimately joining the 118. He goes into vivid detail about every single awful thing he did to Chimney and Hen. He ends the story by telling Buck that even though the Chimney and Hen chose to forgave him, he can't quite move past his guilt and works hard daily to become a better person. The thing I've been mulling over is the concept of white guilt and how it often triumphs over forgiveness extended by people of color. I find this so funny because even when people of color, esepcially Black people, are at their most vulnerable and open, whiteness still finds a way to be greater than.
Now I'm not here to excuse any of what Tommy did during his time at the 118, but I have to admit that the majority of the people I have seen taking umbrage with Tommy and his behavior, even after he has been forgiven by those whom he offended, and even after he has taken strides to change, are white, non-queer individuals. And before we making this a B*ddie versus BuckTommy situation, I have seen individuals from both sides of the fence taking Tommy to task.
Before I jump into my thoughts on this, let me just say that I'm a Black man. I'm also a queer man. Most importantly I'm a Black queer man and let me tell you a little something about poor behavior from white people. It happens so much and so frequent that oftentimes I don't even see it happening until I am allowed to have a moment to process and reflect. With that said, quite a few of my close friends and acquaintances are white and all of them at some point have said or done something deliberately or accidentally offensive to me. Now not all Black and/or queer people are a monolift so let me make this very clear right now. I am speaking on behalf of myself and myself only.
Now that I've gotten out of the way, I will say that in any and all cases where I have been offended, my forgiveness is more for myself than the other person. Forgiveness is something I do to protect my peace. I fundamentally understand how whiteness works here in America and I understand how it operates. You don't get to half 39 years as a Black queer person without learning this. Especialy living in the the south. I also realize that at the apex of whiteness is the white, straight male and whether we realize it or not, we all, for the most part, at some point, seek proximity to him. You see this happen with white women, with Black men, and evenwith gay white men. In fact, the only group you don't tend to see this with is Black queer women and I believe this is because they are truly the antithesis of the white apex.
With that said, any time my friends or acquaintances have behaved badly, especially towards me, especially regarding my race and/or sexuality, I understand where that energy comes from. I really do. And, if we are being truly transparent here, there have been moments in my younger existence where I actively participated in the oppression of Black women and queer people. I, too, was a Tommy who hid myself by participating in the toxicity directed towards queer people. And yes, I felt tremendous guilt for my actions when I had time to reflect.
Here is the thing people forget about guilt. Much like grief, guilt ebbs and flows, and it doesn't really go away. What happens, or what should happen, is that your world gets bigger and bigger to the point where that grief or that guilt doesn't occupy as much space. That's exactly what I believe has happened to Tommy Kinard. Yes, he still feels bad about what he did to his friends back then (and he should) but his world has gotten so much bigger since then. That guilt that was once a loud roar is hopefully only a whisper now because he has done the work to understand why he behaved the way he did and has taken strides to be a better version of himself.
So, to all the white, non-queer individuals out there who have been taking Tommy to task for things he did a long time ago, things he's been forgiven of a long time ago, parts of himself that he has made better, ask yourself this one simple question. Why should my guilt (white guilt) be bigger than the forgiveness provided to him by those he offended? Second question I would ask you to ask yourself. Why am I demanding that Tommy actively punish himself and be punished for something he has already been forgiven of? When you answer that question, there is one last question I want you to ask yourself. Why am I feeling guilty and projecting that guilt onto someone else?
Again, I am not excusing any of what Tommy Kinard said or did during that time of his life. I just find it strange that so many of you are condemining him of something he once did when you should be asking yourself, am I actively participating in the oppression of those around me. There's a 99.9% chance you are so maybe focus on your own garden before you start asking others to clean up theirs. Also, for those of you coming at this from the angle of, well we didn't see Hen and Chimney forgive him. So what! Unless you have a camera following you around 24/7, no one will ever get to see you be forgiven of the fucked up stuff you've been doing. Most of all, stop projecting onto fictional characters. It's weird. Okay, those are my thoughts. Do what with them what you wish. As always, these are my opinions.
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gold-dustwomxn · 1 year ago
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mystified
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summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor
fair warning, future chapters will include discussions of abuse and other heavy topics. each part will contain its own warnings please read them! eventual smut
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
cw: small interaction with a scary man, smoking weed
fluff fluff and more fluff, a little angst. protective ellie makes an appearance
inhale, exhale. grunts and bodies slamming against gym mats could be heard outside the big double doors of ‘miller’s defense studio.’ news of women being attacked at night had been circulating quite loudly in your sleepy town. dad says you should attend the free session, be able to defend yourself if anything happens. only problem was half the town was in here and you fucking hated being around large groups of people. you had your pepper spray keychain on you at all times, did you really need to learn how to fight? yeah, probably.
one of the many annoying things about being in such a small town is knowing everyone. at least your best friend dina and her boyfriend jesse were here to soften the blow of all of this chaos.
sat on the sidelines, you observe everyone attempting to show off sloppy, embarrassing ‘defense’ moves. jesse spots you and obnoxiously yells your name across the gym. rolling your eyes, you make your way over to him and dina.
“hey, ___ you’re late and you’re not gonna like what I have to tell you,” he smiles nervously. darting your eyes from him to dina, you eye them warily, regretting coming here even more now. “well? spit it out jesse.”
“jesus ok. well since you’re so late, there’s no one else for you to pair up with-“ you cut him off, “oh? that’s fine I’ll just watch then.” him and dina look at each other before she looks at you cautiously. “well, the only other person who doesn’t have a partner is the instructor for today.” you squint your eyes towards the front of the room trying to make out who it is, and oh fuck no, it’s ellie. the girl you’ve had a crush on for quite some time.
“ha, no fucking way. you guys can just teach me later. I am not making a fool of myself in front of her and the whole fucking town. you know I hate being the center of attention and she’s gonna demonstrate on me to teach everyone!” you turn your body attempting to walk away.
dina grabs your forearms softly trying to chill you out with her witchy, calming demeanor. because seriously how is she able to do that with just her touch? “you’re gonna be fine, ___. just breathe. no one else knows what they’re doing either, that’s why we’re here. you’re not gonna look like a fool,” she nods at you slowly, “plus, jesse already told her you’d be her partner.” she gives you an apologetic smile.
“ugh. why can’t you be her partner jesse? she’s your best friend.” dina grabs jesse’s arm and nuzzles into his side with a gross, love drunk smile. “because, I wanna be with my man. sorry, babe but you can do this. you can shamelessly use this as an excuse to be close to her anyway” she wiggles her eyebrows.
“oh my god,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “you guys seriously suck.”
an ear piercing whistle startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin, and the room goes quiet. “good morning everyone, I’m ellie. welcome to miller’s defense studio. today, I’m going to be teaching you guys basic self defense techniques. learning self defense is more than how to prevent an attacker from overpowering you, but also about keeping a clear and calm head in the face of danger and how to gain the upper hand..”
her introduction speech fades from your ears as you observe her confident demeanor. dressed only in a simple white wife-beater tank and sweatpants, she still stands tall with a commanding presence. her hair sits in a low bun at the back of her neck, tattoo on full display while her toned arms move animatedly as she speaks.
you blink a few times snapping out of it as dina taps your shoulder and looks at you. “what?” she nods her head at ellie who is looking at you, waiting for you to join her at the front. your eyes widen briefly, “oh fuck.” you mutter under your breath.
you quickly walk up to her in embarrassment and she smirks at you as if she knows something that you don’t. she puts her hand on your hip and leans to turn on the bluetooth speaker behind you. “hey ___” she whispers in your ear. goosebumps travel down your body. fuck, this is gonna be a long day.
after some basic blocking and hitting techniques, ellie decides to teach everyone how to throw an attacker over your shoulder. many cry of “what if they’re taller or heavier?” blah blah, doesn’t matter. next thing you know, ellie turns and steps away from you, grabs your arm, squatting and lifts your hips against her ass before pulling your arm forward, rolling you off her hips onto the floor, wind knocked out of you, hand now around your throat. you lay there stunned, out of breath as ellie’s face hovers close to yours. you take a small glance at her lips before looking up into her eyes and she smirks, also out of breath. fuck, you were caught.
with everyone now practicing the technique, she grabs your hand and pulls you up. “you okay? didn’t go too rough on you?” she places her hands on her hips and looks you up and down so quickly that you could’ve easily missed it if you weren’t paying close attention.
you laugh “no, no, I’m fine. that was pretty crazy. when did you learn how to do all of this shit? I mean, I knew joel had this place obviously but I didn’t know you were involved in it.”
“hm.. well, when joel adopted me I had some.. anger issues, getting into fights all the time. he eventually gave up on trying to ‘change my ways’ and decided to train me how to fight properly so I wouldn’t hurt myself.. tricked me into taking out my aggression elsewhere, so I guess he ended up changing me anyway..” she chuckles “but, yeah I don’t teach or join in on the classes, I do it on my own time. joel’s been booked up so he convinced me to do this for him.” she scratches the back of her neck sheepishly and blushes. you wonder if it’s because she told you something personal or it’s because it’s her first time teaching.
“well.. I wouldn’t have guessed this was your first time. you really know how to command a room. you’re a natural,” you smile at her shyly. “dunno know if I really feel prepared to come up against an attacker though, maybe you could teach me some more.” you mentally pat yourself on the back for your brave attempt at flirting.
she laughs, “oh yeah?” moving closer to you. you look at her briefly before looking away. “mhm!” is what you come up with. jesus christ. she laughs again and nods. “alright, I guess I can make an exception for you and give you some free lessons. I’m gonna go do the closing speech or whatever the fuck joel wanted me to do..” she looks somewhere behind you and her eyes widen. you follow her line of sight and see dina and jesse look away abruptly. okay, suspicious.
as everyone is packing up their belongings, you make your way over to jesse and dina. dina smirks at you, “so?”
“so what..?” you furrow your brows. “how’d it go up there?” before you can respond, ellie comes over and greets you guys. “ellie! ___ and jesse are coming over tonight, you wanna come smoke and chill?” she looks at you as she answers “yeah, sure” she shrugs and then looks over at dina and jesse, “just text me and let me know.”
as you walk to dina’s house, the cold bitter air of winter sends a chill down your spine. all of a sudden you hear a car pulling up next to you and a window rolling down. the sound of a man’s voice has your adrenaline pumping. walking away quickly, you put your phone to your ear and pretend that you’re talking to someone “hey! you think you can help me with some directions? my phone is dead and I’m lost.” your heart is racing and you click off the safety on your pepper spray. another car comes to a screeching halt behind you. a slam of a car door and quick footsteps has you looking back in fear.
ellie comes into your line of sight and puts you behind her, looking at the man with a challenging gaze “is there a fucking problem here?” you hear a flicking sound and look down, eyes widening when you see a switchblade in her hand. he skids off and she manages to take a picture of his plates, putting the switchblade in her back pocket before turning to you. she gently grabs your shoulders and looks at you in concern. “you okay? what happened?” she looks down at your hands and you hadn’t realized until now that you’re shaking. “c’mon.” she grabs your hand and leads you to her car, opening the passenger door for you.
“why are you walking around by yourself? jesus, ___ you could’ve been..” she looks away from you, cutting herself off and shakes her head, clenching her jaw. “I would’ve picked you up.” she starts the car, and pulls away from the curb.
“I know! fuck. dina lives so close I thought- yeah it wasn’t smart knowing what’s been happening.” she turns her head to look at you briefly, her gaze softening. “just text me or something next time okay? I don’t want you walking around by yourself, I’ll pick you up.” you nod and take a deep breath. “thanks for the save,” you laugh, trying to soften the mood. she, however does not laugh which makes you even more nervous. great, you think, I pissed her off. she glances at you, noticing your nervous fidgeting. she briefly squeezes your hand “it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe” she gives you a small smile. you feel butterflies in your stomach. the rollercoaster of emotions from fear to anxiety and now to the feelings ellie is giving you are a lot.
“I’m gonna stop back home to show joel the pics of the plates and tell him what happened so he can take it to the authorities or whatever. I don’t really wanna be the one talking to the cops. you want me to drop you off at dina’s first?” she glances at you. “no, it’s cool I’ll come with you.”
ellie’s house can be described as old and rustic. outdated wood paneling lining the walls, decor and photos that give it a country feel, the cozy smell and crackling sound of the lit fireplace flooding your senses.
joel greets you warmly. small town means he’s seen you grow up, being friendly with your parents. his demeanor is rough around the edges with a don’t fuck with me attitude, but also very polite and caring. you now realize how similar ellie is to him.
as ellie explains the fucked up situation which occurred minutes ago, your phone vibrates in your pocket.
dina🤍: dont kill me pls but I have to cancel tonight. my mom found out im failing stats and she’s on the fuckin warpath. ill make it up to u promise xx
me: fuccck i’m at ellies rn she saved me from some shit i’ll tell u ab it later but now i’m nervous help🥲 sorry ab ur mom i’ll pray for ur soul
you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. the internal panic of now having to be alone with ellie settles deep in your gut.
ellie walks over to you “alright, joel said he’s gonna deal with it. you all set to go?”
“did dina text you? check your phone.”
you watch ellie’s eyes glide across her screen and it gives you a moment to ogle over how fucking attractive she is. her long lashes, sharp jawline and freckles more pronounced due to the soft glow from her phone emitting against the low lighting of the room. she looks up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “uhh fuck, well, do you want me to take you home?.. or we can hang out here if you want.” she looks away from you.
“yeah, I’m down to hang” you smile at her. she gives a small smile back and blushes. alright, maybe she feels the same way I do. “okay cool, you wanna smoke and watch a movie?”
smoke hazes around ellie’s dim lit room and the movie in the background is long forgotten. you’re laughing so fucking hard with tears in your eyes, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re so high or if ellie is really that funny. “you really decked your foster sibling in the face because he borrowed your savage starlight comic ellie?” she scoffs and throws a pillow at you. “he did not borrow it.. he stole that shit and thought he could get away with it. can’t let people fuck around with you like that in the system. makes you an easy target” she takes another drag of the joint.
“uh-huh,” you grab the joint and take a hit “well, clearly these kids learned not to fuck with the big, bad aggressive ellie huh?” she laughs and rolls her eyes “oh my god, shut up, ___.”
ellie thinks about how she likes that you’re not taking pity on her for her fucked up childhood, and how it’s so easy to talk to you. it feels natural opening up to you, not being able to do that with other people, not even jesse. it makes her like you even more.
you groan as you try to peel your heavy, post high eyes open feeling warmth around you, inhaling a scent filled with clean laundry and a hint of woodsy cologne. you open your eyes and see a sleeping ellie, mouth slightly parted, breathing slowly. your eyes widen, realizing your head is on her chest and her arm is wrapped around you. you glance over at her clock that reads 3:54am. fuck, you don’t even remember falling asleep. you move slightly trying not to wake ellie to text your mom saying that you fell asleep at dina’s. ellie stirs and groans, pulling you closer to her. fuck it. you don’t know if this will ever happen again. you close your eyes and drift back to sleep.
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lxkeee · 11 months ago
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⋆.˚ ⭒˚FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚
—part two
pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem! archangel raphael! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: friends to enemies, so it's angsty
notes: hehehehe idk yeah, this is now a series of sort 🤯 also, eat well simps /affectionate. I'll be basing off the seven virtues' appearance off from esbellesantos' Fanart but I wouldn't like fully follow their headcanon personality and make a different personality for them.
Part One | Part Three | THE SEVEN VIRTUES
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So many years have passed after Lucifer's trial, during those years [y/n]'s gigantic and majestic wings finally grew. Three pairs of majestic wings now prodding on her back, a golden halo on top of her head. The [y/n] that was just a background character has now risen up the ranks, God seeing her potential and granted her the title of archangel, now one of the seven virtues of heaven.
[y/n] who was once upbeat and cheerful has now grown cold and mature as she took the responsibility god has placed upon her shoulders. Heart closed to other immortal beings but opened to the mortal ones.
She rules a specific area of the skies, as the seven virtues are tasked to watch their own territory and to make sure to maintain peace and order with the heavenly beings.
She sat on the chair just by her balcony, a small table in front of her. A cup of steaming coffee on the table as she read a newspaper containing some daily heavenly news. A gold wedding ring on her ring finger. She stared at the bright, white, and blue scenery outside her home. Clouds all over the place, other lower ranked angels flying around.
She lives in a huge mansion by herself despite being married.
“Darling I am here~!” a male spoke as the sound of the door to the living room was slammed open. Speaking of her husband, familiar footsteps tapping on the pristine white and gold marbled tiles as the person arrived to the balcony of the living room.
“Azrael, to what do I owe you the pleasure?” [y/n] asked, gently placing back down her coffee cup on to the table. Tilting her head to look at her husband. Tall, slender, mischievous.
Don't get her wrong, she and Azrael don't like each other romantically but they are more on platonic. They only got married... Well... Because of boredom and they did promised each other to marry each other if they remained single even when they've reached a certain age. They promised to divorce each other if they find the one that is right for them. Despite their odd friendship, the two trust each other a lot. Azrael was one being there for her when Lucifer fell from grace.
“I just have some news to share with you, I think this will catch your interest dear.” Azrael winked at her, leaning against his black staff. Eyes half lidded as he awaited for her reaction.
[y/n]'s eyes stopped moving along the words of the paper she was reading, tilting her head to look at the taller angel with curiosity, eyebrow raised. “Really now? Tell me dearie.” she says with a smirk, lifting her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips.
“Lucifer apparently wants to have a meeting with heaven. He wanted to propose another idea of his.” Azrael says with a smirk, his smirk widening as he watched [y/n] choked on her drink.
She clears her throat, getting the caffeine out of her esophagus. The revelation brought back so many memories that it caught her off guard.
“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked again, eyes blinking. Having second thoughts whether she heard him wrong.
Azrael crosses his arms and smirks, “You heard me, he's coming up here to tell us about his plans for the wayward souls down there.”
“Really now?” [y/n] asked with a scoff, wiping her lips with a clean white cloth. She lost her hope in humanity, she believes that the people who didn't properly use the free will gifted to them by Lucifer, shouldn't be given another chance as they wasted that opportunity to live a good life.
“I doubt that the others would agree to whatever plan he has to show.” [y/n] says, sipping her coffee once more.
Azrael laughs, wiping a tear off his eye. “My, you used to agree with his views. To see you disregard his plans before even hearing is just too cruel, [y/n]” he says with a mischievous smile on his face, a sing-song tone in his voice.
“They got gifted free will and look what they have done with it. I believe those souls are better off staying down there and looking back at the times they could've done better.” [y/n] says coldly.
Azrael shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.
“Well, I don't really care about mortal life that much considering I am the angel of death. My duty is to guide them to the afterlife.” he says, shrugging. Walking to the railings of the balcony and leans his back against it.
“Well, that's the only reason I came here. I have duties to attend to and the meeting will be happening in a few days. I'm sure it would be quite a lovely reunion with all eight of us.” Azrael says with a smirk, excited how the meeting will go with all seven virtues plus Lucifer in the same room. He can tell it would be tense and chaotic.
“Good luck in your work.” [y/n] says with a lazy shrug making the taller angel laugh.
“Adios~” he says before disappearing in a puff of sparkly black smoke.
Turning back to the world outside her home, dull [e/c] eyes looking over the blue horizon. She sighs, closing her eyes as she sighs.
“A meeting huh, it's been awhile since I've last seen him.” she mutters, eyes opening. Cold and calculative. “This should be interesting.”
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Timeskip to a few days later...
Lucifer paced back and forth inside his room, a guest room heaven prepared for him. The meeting would happen in two hours and he is beyond nervous. It took so much time to convince them to listen to him but they finally agreed because he persisted.
He expected that it will be only Sera to judge his plans, the anxiety and fear he felt when Sera told him that the seven virtues themselves would grant him an audience to his plans for hell.
He doesn't know much about the seven virtues as it was only implemented a few years after his fall but he knew that it consists of powerful angels that kept the order and peace of heaven. He can list a few angels that are probably one of the seven virtues.
But despite all this, his heart has been aching. He's in heaven, he's standing on the same ground as [y/n]. He misses her, so goddamn much.
Did she miss him too? Probably not.
Remembering how bad their goodbye was, there wasn't any to begin with.
Lucifer sighs, patting up his dark pink suit to ease up the creases. Despite the years that have already gone by, [y/n] never left his heart. He never forgets, every detail of his world no matter how miniscule it is... He can't help but think, [y/n] would've loved this, this is her favorite color, her favorite food, and etc.
He loves Lilith but he also loves [y/n] (more even!) and he knows it's too late to admit that and he's afraid to admit to himself that... He may have made the wrong choice of ignoring her advances.
His gloved hands moved to his collar, adjusting it. “Don't think about her Lucifer, you have a meeting to do and this is for the sake of your people and family.” he says to himself. Taking deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart.
He is ready to propose his plan on making a hotel to redeem sinners.
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The seven virtues of heaven sat in a u-shaped table, all seven virtues wearing a mask that hides their faces. In front of them stood a very nervous Lucifer.
Not a single one of them aside from Lucifer talked, they listened to him talk about his plans for hell.
It is a good plan but without proof, it is useless.
“With the hotel, I am sure sinners would find a way to redeem themselves and join you guys here in heaven.” Lucifer says, a nervous smile on his face as he ends his presentation. Standing in front of the seven virtues is a real nerve wrecking. He can sense the power emitting from each and every one of them. One wrong move and he's done for.
“The idea is cute and all but without evidence, this... This is completely useless.” Gabriel says, a bored tone in her voice as she lazily held the folder filled with the details of Lucifer's plan and letting it fall into the table with a loud thud.
Lucifer flinches from her remark and the sound of his hopes and dreams of his people hitting with a loud thud on the table from Gabriel's actions.
“I agree.” Michael says, removing his mask. A mischievous smile on his face. “Lucifer, you don't know what these mortal souls are capable of. How can you be so sure the hotel would work if you yourself aren't sure they wanted to redeem themselves in the first place?” Michael asked, voice filled with authority, eyebrows raised as he asked the question, looking down on his twin brother, Lucifer.
Lucifer flinches, starting to get nervous.
“Well... We wouldn't know if we'd tr—” he says but getting cut off.
“You've never seen the horrors and atrocities these mortal souls commit with their free will. War, corruption, death, murder, drugs... Anything you can name it. What makes you think these people would want to make themselves better?” Jophiel says, his voice shaking. A laugh escaping his lips as he remembers the horrors he's seen on earth, a mocking laughter.
“They're truly terrible, these souls don't have a place here in heaven.” Michael sneered.
Azrael just smirked as he watched the scene unfold, [y/n] keeping quiet beside him. His hand intertwined with hers to comfort her.
“But they're souls, human souls just the same with the one's up here in heaven.” Lucifer defended, clenching his fists.
“They are not the same, the souls here in heaven have earned it.” Camuel says with a smile, finally removing his own mask.
“Ugh, the work I have to do carrying each soul to their destination is quite tiring. Annoying even. Especially when a soul curses at me for bringing them to hell when they only have themselves to blame.” Azrael says with a groan, smirking as he removes his mask. Looking at Lucifer challengingly.
Lucifer's eyes widened at the cruelty of their words, six virtues now staring at him face-to-face, aside from one virtue who kept quiet.
“Well, each one of us already said our opinion aside from Raphael here... Or should I say, [y/n]? Do you have something to say?” Azrael says, a teasing smile on his face. [Y/n] glaring at Azrael as she slightly squeezed his hand.
Lucifer's eyes widened, heart beating faster than ever before when he heard the name. Even more so when the last virtue removed her mask.
Cold, bored, calculative, and dull.
No longer the bright sparkling [e/c] eyes Lucifer loved before.
“Is this even necessary? All of you had already said what needed to be said.” [y/n] says, removing her hand from Azrael's as she leans her elbows on the table. Putting her chin on her knuckle. A lazy and bored look on her face. A shiny gold band on her ring finger, a wedding ring.
She's married? He asked himself but that question isn't too important as he is focused on something else. How cold she is. That something Lucifer isn't quite used to.
The others looked at [y/n] expectantly making the woman sigh, “Very well then, I would have to agree with the others.” she says coldly.
This isn't his [y/n]. Where was the [y/n] who used to be so kind, bright, cheerful, and had hopes for humanity? What happened to her?
Lucifer stood in fear, not knowing how to act now that [y/n] is revealed to be one of his audience.
“Humans. They are selfish and vile creatures. Destroying the planet our creator had given them, killing and hurting their own kind. Poverty, hunger, corruption, death. If you haven't given them the apple, they would be living in peace and harmony and with no worry in eden but you took that away from them and now they're doomed to suffer.” [y/n] coldly explained. “You cannot see it personally and that is your burden to carry, your punishment.”
Lucifer can't speak, mind blanking as a loud ringing was heard on his ears. Hands shaking, he couldn't breathe.
Where was the one person who believed in him? Did he fucked up so much to even lose her too?
“You're really mad huh?” Azrael says, placing a hand over his cheek. A similar gold band on his ring finger. Lucifer's eyes widened.
Azrael is married to her. Lucifer thought. Defeated.
“Well, this court finds no evidence that this hotel would be effective. I suggest you leave now or you'll face the consequences.” Michael says, voice is booming and filled with authority. The other virtues glaring at him. Halo's shining down on Lucifer as if to mock him, to show him that they are in power.
Why do you still look so disappointed in me? More so even?
Lucifer asked, looking at [y/n] who avoided his gaze.
Azrael showing off his wedding ring to him with a smirk on his face, making Lucifer's eye twitch.
“This meeting is over.” Michael says, glaring down on Lucifer. “Leave or else you'll suffer the consequences.” Michael says, angelic weapons now aimed warningly at him.
Fear coursing through his veins, Lucifer left. Despite wanting to stay and talk to her, he couldn't. Poofing away in a cloud of sparkly red smoke.
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“You okay?” Azrael asked beside her as they flew back to their respective territories. Passing by many clouds, the skies now have a dark shade of blue as the sun has set a few hours ago.
“Nope, but I will eventually.” she says with a sigh making the dark haired male smile.
“You know, I didn't expect him to be so small. You used to be the same height but now you're taller than him.” Azrael mutters with a small laugh.
“They don't have the sun there, Azrael. They don't have the necessary vitamins to grow taller.” [y/n] says with a small laugh. The joke making the male angel laugh hysterically.
“HAHAHAHA! Since when did you make such jokes [n/n]? A really dark one too!” he says before winking at her, “No pun intended.”
The unintended pun making the girl chuckle. Azrael smiled, happy he got to make her smile after that stressful meeting.
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I based off the seven virtues here aside from Raphael and Azrael image.
Also, I based this off from the "more than anything" song that Lucifer tried to look for ways to help his people and also based off from that one panel of an episode (I forgot which one) where he was wearing the same outfit Charlie is wearing, the pink suit? Yeah, I imagined he did the hotel concept and told Charlie about it.
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