#if the alternative is leaving people behind or making a single person feel the way i have felt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

threewaywithdelusion · 1 year ago

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You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.

Robin blushed.

Tammy turned back around.

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.

Robin sighed, loud and long.

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

��I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.

“Hi?” Robin answered.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked.

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.

That was fair. Robin was shocked too.

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.

Robin hated him.

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.

“It’s not about me,” Robin said.

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.

“I did,” she said.

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said.

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.

From there, they kept going around the circle.

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.

Then it was Tammy’s turn.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.

“Okay,” Tammy said.

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.

“Truth,” Robin said.

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.

Robin didn’t really believe it.

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.

She kind of wanted to know more about him.

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said.

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?”

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic

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toskarin · 2 months ago

Note

A question of curiosity - assuming you play them due to your involvement with a bunch of them, what are your favourite kinds of characters (be it mechanically or narratively) to play in TTRPGS? And do you have any associated anecdotes to go with them?

courtesy readmore

mechanically kinda depends on what's on the menu, but if it's combat-focused, I personally really enjoy characters who "deny" things

not really the kind of character who I'd ever expect a GM to put in their element on purpose (I usually make a conscious effort to remind the GM of things I'm capable of so that I don't trample on any fun setpieces) but definitely the kind of character who modifies objectives just by being in play. I also like magic-users in concept, but that's more of a flavour thing

I think that's reflected a good bit in the kind of narrative play I enjoy, too. when I make a character, I prefer to do it with the rest of the party in mind, less to make the character "compatible" and more to make them sharply contrast in ways that encourage the other characters to have moments where they can reaffirm who they are (both in narrative and out of narrative)

there's a fine balance to strike here. on one end of things, you risk yes-manning so hard that the party quickly becomes a problem solving engine with a single striking surface. on the other end of the things, you risk being The Chaotic Neutral Guy

the space in the middle there represents the characters that people often want to regularly interact with, but rarely want to play. the sort of character who isn't actively disruptive, but raises a lot of red flags when they suddenly show enthusiastic agreement for what you're doing. the kind of character you almost need a diminished sense of discomfort to play without getting in your own feelings about

I adore playing characters who are catered to find plot hooks in other players' characters and tug them just enough to pull them to the surface

most parties have characters who disagree on things that aren't easily resolved. that's always fun, but (because people courteously tend to avoid conflict) it's very rare for those conflicts to come up without GM prompting, and "create productive conflict between two characters without leaving out the rest of the characters or starting a fight between players" is often an equally uncomfortable situation for a GM

lots of fun directions to take it!

have an arc that would benefit from a character taking charge but their player doesn't feel comfortable just Doing That? it helps to have someone else try to take charge who obviously should not be allowed, just to get everyone behind the alternative

have someone with a pure heart who doesn't really get to show that in a party of players who don't want to be mean? maybe someone who's a little more morally-compromised could give them a window for explaining what they actually believe

have a character who's part of some mysterious cult that nobody else is going to find the time to look into? the party could benefit from having a nosy character to justify cracking open that backstory

GM needs to fuck something up to remind the party of how dangerous things are? why not add to the mood by showing what your often-cold character looks like when something manages to actually upset them

[WARNING: DOING ANY OF THIS WALKS THE PRECARIOUSLY THIN LINE BETWEEN BEING COMPELLING AND BEING ANNOYING]

observant readers (well, those who have followed for a while) might have noticed I periodically go on rants about the much-maligned "evil character in a good party" and how both sides of the argument represent a communication and courtesy breakdown. that also very much ties into this sort of thing. I won't go over Tolerable Villainy 101 again, but you get the idea

distilled, I like playing the sort of thoroughly worldly bastards who often end up important in their own right, but mostly on accident, by virtue of being important to what makes other characters compelling

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deliciouskeys · 13 days ago

Text

Cozy Corner Kinktober 2024 prompt #27: Temperature Play

Butchlander; Rated... G? But honestly has horror elements so probably not G. TW: I'm not going to say agere, but some kind of unhealthy mental state is portrayed.

This was originally supposed to be a joke fill of this prompt and ~500 words. Instead, it became >4k words and not funny at all, I'm sorry to report.

Just a quick (needless) note: This is set presumably some time after S4E5 where they get Stan Edgar out of prison for a hot minute, but in some sort of alternative timeline where all the turning points of S4E8 either haven't happened yet, or won't ever happen because of a canon divergence. Aaand that makes it sound more complicated than it needs to be. Carry on.

Butcher isn't sure if there's anything new he could learn about Homelander by going to the compound where he grew up, but it can't hurt to check. Stan Edgar tipped him off about the secret location, a nondescript office building with a largely empty ground floor and sham offices to act as a front in the windows, but underground there is a facility that goes six stories deep. It's close to the landmark Edison Labs in West Orange, NJ. It's not a long drive from the city for Butcher to make. An afternoon trip-- he can be in and out. Stan assured him there was only one security guard on every floor and Butcher has a bulletproof vest and several guns hidden in his coat, so he's prepared to breach the facility, maybe grill the scientists he finds in there, although he has doubts he’s find many who worked there in the era he’s interested in. But right now the parking lot is completely empty. Odd, because Stan said the facility was still in pretty heavy use, though nothing like the heyday of the seventies and eighties.

It's too risky to park in the lot and be that conspicuous sole car, so Butcher leaves his car far away and walks. Something feels off. There doesn't seem to be a single person anywhere on site, although maybe he's doing something very stupid by just walking up to the facility's door in broad daylight. Maybe he's about to be snipered off of some other building or even the roof of this one.

There's no one anywhere that he can see. He tries the door and it opens, against his expectations. There's a security desk behind what looks bulletproof glass, but it's smashed or melted on one side and there's no one there. There’s caution tape in a lazy X across the elevator which Butcher doesn't even tear away before pressing the only button, the one with the down arrow, because he has no expectation that it will do anything. But the elevator dings and its doors open. And against his better judgement, Butcher pulls the tape off the wall edges and enters and goes straight for the lowest floor. B6.

His instinct says something is seriously wrong. Stan described a very different scene to him. This building looks abandoned and as if something violent happened. When the door opens to the B6 level a strong smell of bleach hits Butcher hard. The place looks empty, but there's still scientific equipment. Butcher can't tell whether it's modern or not, but something about the scene looks like people have been here recently. He steps out cautiously, half expecting a gun to cock and press into the back of his head, but there's no one around. Where's security? He saw a camera on the way in, and it wasn't obvious if it was on or not. There aren't even any cameras visible on this level.

Butcher's not one for getting scared, but there's something decidedly creepy about the place and how empty and silent it is, aside from the hum of some machines that are apparently still on, and the air being circulated through the ducts. Yet more evidence this building is in use, at least occasionally. It looks hastily abandoned, but there's no way it's been abandoned for years. He approaches the wall where there's a framed picture hanging up. Three scientists in lab coats, maybe four, if the woman with the big 80s hair is also one, although she looks like someone from corporate. But what Butcher's eye is drawn to is the child in the middle, dressed in a white nightgown. He stares at the face, at first not even certain whether it's a boy or a girl, but slowly coming to recognize the features that would later morph into the face of the man he's been so obsessed with over the years. It's completely uncanny. It was one thing to hear Vogelbaum wax sentimental about Homelander as a five year old, but it's quite another to actually see a picture before puberty really hit. His expression looks pouty, sullen. He's certainly more than five years old here, which means they had already "gone to work on him" for a few years, whatever Vogelbaum meant by that ominous sounding phrase.

Butcher takes a picture on his phone and looks around for more. He's got his curiosity to find more on the one hand, but he's also quite sick to his stomach. This all feels wrong. The place is hideously depressing, and Butcher's mind is starting to play tricks on him, thinking he hears someone or something lurking, maybe on some floor above. He wishes he'd brought someone else along. He can't believe he's chickening out but he doesn't think he can take any more of this. There's a heavy red metal door that's ajar, almost inviting him to look inside, but Butcher has never had such a strong premonition to leave without investigating any further. He heads toward the elevator, is about to press the button to go up when the elevator suddenly starts ascending, making a ding noise as it passes each floor.

Maybe it's just programmed to return to the ground floor, Butcher tells himself, but there's cold sweat running down his back. He presses the button anyway, sees the elevator reach the ground floor, pause, and then head back down again. It feels like it takes forever. Butcher cannot wait to get back up, leave this claustrophobic stuffy underground hellhole behind, go back to his car and never ever come back here again.

The metal elevator doors open and Butcher steps back when he sees none other than Homelander standing in the elevator.

"Long time no see, William. I'm so flattered you decided to investigate where I grew up!" Homelander walks out, effectively blocking Butcher's path to get inside, so Butcher stands still.

As scared as he should be to see Homelander catch him in the act of snooping around this lab, he's almost relieved to not be alone in here. He'd prefer to be on the highway, hauling ass back to the city, of course, but this is how it's playing out.

Homelander raises his eyebrows dramatically. "Or at least that's what I assume you were doing. Hm?"

Butcher shrugs. "More or less."

"If you're wondering how I knew you were here, Vought Analytics kindly tipped me off when they caught you on camera. Pretty ballsy, just walking right in." Homelander grins, then takes a look around. "Wow, they really cleaned this place up since I last visited. Although the bleach fumes don't seem to air out very well from this level."

Butcher has no idea what to answer, or where this conversation is meant to be going.

"You want a tour? Or… what, a dramatic reenactment of my childhood, or…?"

Butcher stands still, mulling over whether there's any chance he leaves here alive, and whether what he says has any bearing on that.

Homelander takes it upon himself to start narrating some kind of demented walk-through without waiting for an answer. "Well, here…" He spreads his arms and gestures around. "Is where I spent all my conscious childhood years until they finally started letting me out at sixteen."

"You lived here?" Butcher asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Oh yes, all my time. In here. I don't remember seeing the sun or open skies until I was probably ten years old, and very rarely. I had books about the outdoors, I dreamed about it. But I never saw it." Homelander's smile falters, then reanimates itself. "So yes, not only did I spend most of my life on this floor, I actually spent quite a bit of the time just locked away in here…"

He gestures toward the ominous red door. Butcher follows him inside even though he takes one longing look at the elevator, knowing there's no way Homelander would let his captive audience just walk out.

The room seems blindingly bright compared to the rest of the floor, white walls everywhere, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. It feels cold and clinical, and Butcher has a suspicion that the white paint is a thin layer over reinforced metal. It's completely empty.

"Yes, this room is where I slept, ate my meals, did my studies, took my shits. And if they felt like it, where I was just abandoned for days when they working on something else and couldn't be bothered with me." Homelander stops roving the room with his eyes and fixes them on Butcher, standing akimbo. "Well? What do you think?"

Butcher wonders if Homelander actually expects an answer. It seems like he's really waiting. "Mate… I think the whole thing is fucked up beyond belief. That's what I think."

Homelander smiles, and the smile almost looks genuinely friendly. "That's what I say! But as a child, I didn't know anything else, you know? They told me I was special and this is what they needed to do, and that this was an acceptable way for me to live, and who was I to argue with them? They didn't like it when I complained about anything. It was frowned upon. Moving on…"

Butcher is all too happy to obey Homelander's beckoning gesture and follow him out of the claustrophobic little room. Butcher was never a believer in vibes, but the whole place makes him uneasy.

"Here's the table where the scientists who worked on this floor took lunch. They used to talk and joke and laugh, and I think listening to that banter was probably how I learned to sound like I was raised in a normal family. I could watch them out of the window in the door if they didn't cover it up with metal because they wanted privacy. I never got any privacy. There were four cameras in that tiny room, one in each ceiling corner, and my whole life was recorded. I wonder if they kept all those tapes. Must be the most boring footage in the world, so they probably recycled them unless I did something interesting. I should say that every birthday they did allow me to sit with them at the table and have my piece of cake and they'd all pretend we were friends and that we were celebrating my birthday and not their own milestone that they were congratulating themselves for. Back then they might have even been celebrating my real birthday, before the corporate one they came up with in committee that fit the television schedule well. Not that I remember what my real birthdate was. They didn't really emphasize dates or give me access to calendars or anything… I never had a good grasp on how much time was passing…."

Homelander really sounds like he's talking to himself at this point, processing something, face twitching as his efforts to smile keep drooping into a more sinister expression with bared teeth. He trails off and sighs at some point. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

Butcher just stares at him.

"Sorry, am I boring you?" Homelander asks, and his face is cold and collected again.

"Not at all, unfortunately," Butcher answers. "I don't know what the fuck they were doing to you, but it's sick. A company can't own a child."

"Oh it's completely illegal," Homelander says, laughing, and his face is friendlier again, an amiable smile playing on his lips. "But you don't make trillions of dollars without breaking a few people, am I right?"

"Why are you still working for Vought?" Butcher asks, suddenly feeling angry. It feels like anger on Homelander's behalf, which is a new emotion for Butcher and he's not sure he likes it.

"I'm not working for them," Homelander says. "I took over the entire thing. They're working for me."

"Keep telling yourself that. How do you know they're not raising another little supe like you, somewhere out in some other secret facility. Maybe tens of them. Maybe torturing them until only the strongest survives?"

"I- I'd know about that, as a board member."

Butcher hears the falter in his voice.

"Anyway. Sometimes Barb- the head of the lab would let me walk around the lab and sit at this table when the rest of them weren't having lunch and working. She used to give me pen and paper to draw and write, but… I guess eventually they didn't let me anymore when I kept drawing things they didn't like… One of the lab members, Joe, I think was his name, Joe Nesbitt, yes. I should remember them all, but it's not like they wore nametags and didn't always introduce themselves depending on how closely they worked with me. But Joe had this dog he'd bring in. I thought it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. You have to remember, I didn't ever get to see other children or pets or anything except these labworkers and janitors. Everything else was just from books. Well Joe was bringing his dog in, even though I don't think Vogelbaum or Barbara approved at all. He'd let me play with the dog, which was… pretty remarkable if you think about how little they trusted me to control my powers back then. I wasn't supposed to touch the dog of course. But if I sat on my heels in the middle of the floor, the dog would usually come and want to play, and pounce on me, and even lick me. And I wanted to pet it so bad, but I just kept my hands behind my back to remind myself not to ever touch it. I played fetch with it, even though they weren't happy that I was making the dog run around the room. Eventually they told Joe to stop bringing the dog, that it was inappropriate and distracting to everyone. He was an actually kind guy. I remember they were discussing it, maybe thinking I couldn't hear behind the door of the Bad Room, but the Bad Room only blocked my vision, not my hearing. He said he wasn't bringing the dog in for himself, that he was bringing it in for me. That he thought I desperately needed a pet to take care of, to develop my personality properly. I remember when I listened, my breath hitching, wishing so hard they'd let me have a pet. But they said no, that it was an unnecessary distraction for me too. But he was right of course. A pet would have been so good for me. I should have told them I wanted a pet. I should have insisted. But instead I thought I shouldn't ask for something if they didn't want me to have it."

It's a bit bewildering to hear so much sadness pour out of this cruel, deplorable shitstain of a supe, but it's so hard not to feel something for him. Being here is creepy, and it's bringing out strange memories in this guy.

"I don't know what happened to Joe. I think he ended up getting sick. Died of cancer or something, even before I was twelve. Wouldn't be surprised if working here wasn't good for a mudperson's health, and yet so many people seemed to work here forever and carry on with their pointless little lives just fine."

"Maybe we should go upstairs…" Butcher says, cautious about saying anything that will make Homelander snap out of whatever mood this is, and maybe snap completely.

Homelander smiles. "No, we can't leave before we see the oven."

Butcher has had the sinking feeling all along that this is all one prolonged monologue before Homelander executes him, and now he knows the method by which he will die. Well, it was a good run, he guesses. He eyes the elevator, but there's just no way. Maybe getting lasered in the back is going to be less painful than whatever Homelander has planned for him, but he just can't force himself to make a break for it, his legs feeling strangely leaden. Maybe he's become hypnotized by the story, being able to imagine it all the more vividly now that he's seen the childhood photograph on the wall.

"This is where they burned me, to build up my resistance to heat damage. Probably weekly if not more often. I don't know why they had a window. I guess to watch the progress inside? Not sure they would have seen anything happening other than me crying my little eyes out. All the window allowed me to do was watch how people were just going about their work, except for the couple who were directly involved in baking me in the oven. No one gave a shit that I was suffering."

Butcher raises his eyebrows when Homelander leans down and starts taking off his boots. By the time he's taken off his cape and starts opening the magnetized flap of his top half, Butcher can't help himself any longer. "What the hell are you doing right now?"

Homelander turns toward him sharply. "I want to show you. I want to show you exactly what they used to do to me. It won't hurt me now that I'm an adult. It hurt back then, but it won't hurt now. They got rid of my sensitivities that way."

Butcher can barely follow what he's saying. "Are you … going into the oven?"

Homelander nods nonchalantly.

"You completely off your rocker? There's no way it's still operational anyway. What the fuck's the point?"

"Oh it's operational," Homelander says. "I saw it in action a few weeks ago."

Butcher is so confused he finds himself literally scratching his head, trying to make sense of what's happening. It feels like that fairytale where someone has to trick the witch into looking into the oven to push her in, except this witch is hopping into the oven himself, fully aware of what he's doing. Or maybe not fully aware, since he seems to be in some weird giddy nostalgic fucked up spiral.

Homelander is already naked by the time Butcher shakes those thoughts away.

"Why the hell do they still have this oven? Doesn't that mean they're still doing this to other kids?" Butcher asks.

Homelander shrugs. "Maybe they use it to bake glassware now. You know, to sterilize it? I have no idea. They were using the Bad Room to store all their old broken and outdated equipment, so who knows. It's empty now though. They cleaned it out pretty thoroughly…"

Butcher doesn't like the smile on Homelander's face. It looks crazed. And it's not surprising, since he's determined to do something absolutely nonsensical. Butcher really needs to leave this building. There's some terrible energy or feng shui or juju or whatever people call it in here. Butcher felt better energy in the Tower of London as a child.

Homelander walks in through the oven's door.

"Why do you have to be naked for this?" Butcher asks.

"Because this thing gets over 1000 degrees inside. There's literal gas flames that come through the panels. My suit's built against the elements but I don't know if it'll hold up to that."

Butcher just can't help himself anymore. "And why the fuck do you feel the need to get in there, again?" What is he saying? Why is he offended by the idea of Homelander doing something so stupidly reckless. He probably knows he won't be hurt. And what if he is? Since when has Butcher ever worried about a supe hurting himself by doing something moronic? But something about spending his time down here, listening to Homelander's disturbing stream of conscience, makes Butcher feel like he's the designated driver, like he's strangely responsible for whatever happens next.

"I just want to show you." Homelander motions him over. "Shut the door and turn on that button on the side. The numbers above the knob tell you the temperature it's set to reach."

Butcher shuts the door, staring at Homelander's face through the thick transparent window, made of who knows what material.

"Well? Go on." Homelander's voice sounds very faint and muffled from inside.

Butcher stares at the panel. "1200C" is what the knob is set to. What the hell is he doing? And why is he hesitating? He hits the button, surprised at the immediate swell of guilt he feels. He hears the door automatically bolt locked, and watches as the back wall splits like some heavy duty metal Venetian blinds, revealing a wall of flames right behind them.

Homelander's expression is manic. "Doesn't hurt like it used to," he announces, loud even through the thick glass, and yet when Butcher approaches the door to watch what's going on inside, Homelander is hugging himself and cowering and wincing a little bit, scrunching his eyes shut. Doesn't look painless.

Butcher glances back at the elevator. Well, here's his fucking chance. Even if Homelander is capable of breaking the door open, Butcher might have time to take the elevator and bound across the lot and be long gone before he manages to do that.

He starts backing up, still watching Homelander inside, flames all around him. Butcher doesn't believe in Heaven or Hell, but it certainly looks like Homelander is in one of those two places. Butcher's so close, so close to just turning around, walking towards the elevator, and getting the hell out of there. But Homelander looks up at him and his eyes widen when he sees how far Butcher has distanced himself. It looks like it finally dawns on him that he gave Butcher the perfect escape while trying to relive his demented childhood traumas.

Butcher can't do it. In spite of every rational thought telling him not to walk back, he walks back to the panel and shuts the oven off. The door remains locked, probably a safety precaution since the inside temperature is still scorchingly hot. Homelander stands near the window, eyes big and round, and it's fucking uncanny but Butcher can't unsee the child version of his face etched into his current features.

Maybe he should leave now. At least he's turned the oven off, right? That has to be enough. "Is the door gonna unlock on its own?" Butcher verifies, hoping the answer is yes and that he can leave with a clear conscience.

"You have to override the safety from the outside. It won't open from the inside after being powered up." Homelander says, and Butcher can't tell if he sounds sheepish because of how quiet and muffled he is behind the glass, or because he's embarrassed about trusting that Butcher will stay and do all the honors.

But Butcher does stay and do the honors, mad as it all is. The door unlocks and opens, a rush of extremely hot air blowing into the rest of the room, fortunately far enough away from where Butcher is standing that he only feels the air gust and not so much the temperature. Homelander traipses out of the oven, arms still wrapped around his torso.

"Looks like it still hurts from where I'm standin'," Butcher says. Homelander is looking at the ground and says nothing before picking up his suit and trying to put it back on, hissing quietly when anything touches his skin.

"You're an idiot." Butcher can't help himself. He's in complete disbelief. "Why on earth did you think that was a good idea?"

"It hurt more as a child," Homelander declares, as if that answers the question. But he seems to be regaining his composure. No harm no foul with these supes, even if you stick them in an inferno. "I just needed to convince myself that it wasn't as bad as I remember it."

"I'm sure it was as bad," Butcher says. He still doesn't know what happens next. As much as he's calling Homelander an idiot in his thoughts, he might be the bigger idiot for staying down here and saving him from himself. Now he might pay the ultimate price.

"I think that's all I have to say about this place…" Homelander says. "Funny. I killed a lot of the people who could verify that all the stuff I'm saying they did to me is true. Now maybe no one will ever know. And I'm fine with that. You don't have to remember anything I told you here. It's dead and buried in the past and has nothing to do with the present."

"I think it has something to do with the present…" Butcher can't help but counter.

"Doesn't matter. I'm thinking about the future, About Ryan and all that. And how I'll make sure he never goes through anything like I did." Homelander's face twists into anger again. "Did I even need to go through all that? It still hurts. It still fucking hurts. Maybe they didn't inure me to anything. Maybe they just told me they did and I believed them. Maybe it was all one big waste of time that could have been avoided."

"Wouldn't be surprised," Butcher says.

Homelander sniffs something like a laugh without any mirth, walks towards the elevator and presses the button to go upstairs. Butcher hesitates to follow, not quite believing that his ordeal is over.

"Well?" Homelander sound impatient after he walks in and holds the elevator by sticking out his arm, waiting for Butcher to make his way in. "Or were you planning on trying to find secret documents or something?"

"Nope," Butcher mumbles. Maybe he should, but he's not about to stay down there any longer than he has to.

"They took all the important documents once they cleared the place out. They had to do a bunch of cleanup anyway after my visit. Think they took everything important and stashed it away from busybodies like you."

"Left that picture on the wall," Butcher says, not sure why he's engaging in this conversation, but it's surreal to stand with Homelander in an elevator and openly discuss his efforts to get intel on him. "Maybe you should have taken it with you."

"Oh that thing, with Barbara and the rest?" Homelander makes a sour face. "Should have thrown it out. That's a chapter of my life I don't ever want to think about again."

Butcher doesn't know who Barbara is but guesses she must be the woman in the picture. He, for one, is glad he has a copy on his phone. Something about it is haunting but very very evocative, like he sees the man in front of him in a new light, and he didn't think that was possible after all the research and study he's already done on him over the years, and how crystallized his hatred has become.

Butcher is tempted to get down and kiss the ground when they finally walk out of the building, grateful he's no longer six floors down below.

"Don't come snooping around Vought properties," Homelander tells him His tone sounds official, like the voice he uses to give PSAs on TV. Not at all like the broken, slightly stuttering voice that was recounting his childhood down in B6.

Butcher flinches away when Homelander takes off without any warning, pushing off the asphalt and launching himself into the sky with a completely unnecessary sonic boom. He watches him fly towards Manhattan and slowly makes his way to where he left his car, checking his phone to make sure he did save the photo from the lab wall.

For safekeeping. Nothing stranger than that.

AO3 link

#butchlander #billy butcher #homelander #homelander's disturbing past #cozy corner kinktober 2024 #cozy corner kinktober #the boys #the boys tv #fic #mystuff

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nayziiz · 8 months ago

Text

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

As the Miami Grand Prix concludes with Lando securing P3 and Oscar landing at P5, the paddock begins to wind down, the ambient hum of activity softening as people prepare to leave. In the aftermath of the race, Lando retreats to his driver's room, where he remains since the podium celebration and the subsequent debriefing.

Observing from the sidelines, Natalie can't help but sense an underlying concern about Lando's emotional state. Despite securing a podium finish, the pressure to replicate the victory he achieved at Suzuka looms heavily. Natalie understands that the expectations and the desire for a subsequent win weigh on Lando, potentially affecting his motivation.

Compounding the challenge, their interactions have been limited, especially private moments that would allow her to gauge his emotional well-being. The presence of others has created a barrier, making it difficult for Natalie to discern the true depth of Lando's feelings. As someone invested in both his professional and personal life, she grapples with the delicate balance of offering support without overstepping boundaries, as she has done previously, eager to provide comfort in a moment where victory remains elusive.

“Where’s Lando?” Lando’s trainer, Jon asks.

“He’s still in his driver’s room.” Natalie explains. “I’ll take him back to the hotel. I think he’s just had a rough day and needs a minute.”

Natalie's response to Lando's trainer, Jon, is measured, reflecting her understanding of the situation. The acknowledgment of Lando needing a moment underscores her awareness of his emotional state and the potential impact of the race outcome on his mood. Natalie's readiness to offer support and take on the responsibility of accompanying him back to the hotel highlights her dual role—both as a professional figure in the paddock and as someone deeply invested in Lando's well-being. It's a subtle demonstration of her commitment to providing the space and support he might need in the aftermath of a challenging race day.

Natalie's steps lead her to Lando's driver's room, and with a composed three knocks, she signals her presence. A brief pause follows, and then the door opens, revealing Lando. Without saying a word, he invites her in, closing the door behind them. The atmosphere within the confined space holds a mix of lingering tension from the race and the unspoken understanding between them. As Lando packs up his belongings in the quiet aftermath of the race, Natalie gently breaks the silence.

“Everyone’s pretty much left for the day.” Natalie informs him, the low hum of their conversation filling the driver's room.

“That was not the result I wanted today.” He mumbles, expressing his disappointment.

“Of course not, but it’s still P3. It’s still decent points.” She says, hoping to shift the focus to the positive aspects of the day.

“But it’s not a race win.” Lando counters, the hunger for victory evident in his voice as he slings his backpack onto his back.

“I’ll drive you back to the hotel.” She says, changing the topic.

“You never drive, though.” He points out.

“Then today is your lucky day.” She jokes as she opens the door for them to leave.

The engine hums to life as Natalie starts the SUV, embarking on the journey from the venue to the hotel. Lando, taking the passenger seat, gazes out of the window, his attention briefly captured by the passing scenery. As they drive past fans, Lando acknowledges them with a wave, a gesture of appreciation for the unwavering support.

It's a rare sight—Natalie behind the wheel, steering them through the post-race ambiance. Lando, typically in control as the driver, now finds himself in the role of a passenger. His occasional glances outside and subtle adjustments in the seat reveal the discomfort of relinquishing control, a testament to his preference for being at the helm.

As Natalie navigates the automatic SUV through the streets, her initial nervousness stemming from the unfamiliarity of the vehicle begins to dissipate. The rhythm of the drive, once tense, gradually transforms into a more comfortable flow as they distance themselves from the crowds.

A few moments pass in silence until Natalie detects the sound of sniffling beside her. Concerned, she turns to find tears streaming down Lando's cheeks. Without uttering a word, she makes a spontaneous decision, steering the car down a quiet stretch of road and parking it. The hushed environment allows for a moment of privacy and introspection.

“What’re you doing?” Lucas asks her, confused as he wipes away some tears.

“I stopped so you could get out everything you need before you charge head first into the next crowd.” She gently explains.

Her words convey a deep understanding of the emotional toll racing can take, acknowledging the need for a moment of release and reflection.

In the cocoon of the parked car, Lando allows himself to release the pent-up emotions, finding solace in Natalie's understanding presence. The conflict within Natalie, torn between maintaining a professional demeanour and providing comfort, is palpable. Despite her internal struggle, she extends a hand to Lando's shoulder, offering a physical connection that becomes a lifeline for his grief.

As Natalie leans over, enveloping him under her arm and gently rubbing his back, Lando's tears flow freely. The vulnerability shared in this private moment bridges the gap between their professional roles, revealing the depth of their connection. His hand reaching for hers signifies a silent plea for continued support, anchouring him in the solace of their shared space.

The abrupt interruption of a sharp ringtone pierces the emotional silence. Natalie, with a quick response, answers her phone, momentarily shifting her focus away from the intimate scene within the car.

Natalie deftly navigates the delicate situation, responding to Charlotte's queries with a composed assurance that conceals the intimate scene within the car. As the call progresses, Natalie seizes the opportunity to divert attention away from Lando's emotional state, explaining that he's simply worn out after the race.

With a request to access the hotel through the basement, Natalie ensures a discreet entrance, shielding Lando from the prying eyes of fans and maintaining the facade of professionalism. Charlotte, understanding the need for privacy, agrees to coordinate with hotel security for the alternate entry. Natalie leans back in her seat once the call concludes and looks at Lando who seems to have calmed down.

“Thank you.” He whispers. Natalie smiles at him and squeezes his hand.

“Of course.” She whispers back.

“I think we can go now.” Lucas tells her.

“Are you sure? We can sit a bit longer if you want?” She assures him.

“Just a few more minutes.” He caves, his voice still shaky as he speaks.

Natalie nods, fully understanding the need to take a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions as she relaxes into her seat. A few moments of silence pass before he eventually nods at her and she starts the car. The car resumes its journey, now with the knowledge of an alternative entrance arranged by Charlotte. Natalie glances at Lando, who, though still recovering from the emotional release, appears to have found a measure of calmness.

The reciprocal exchange of comfort and vulnerability between Lando and Natalie creates a profound sense of trust and safety within the confines of the car. Natalie, recognizing the importance of providing a supportive space for Lando after the events in Shanghai, makes a conscious effort to offer him the comfort he might need.

Lando, in turn, experiences a unique sense of security with Natalie—one that goes beyond the surface-level interactions. He appreciates the fact that she not only acknowledges his emotions but actively encourages him to express them. The depth of their connection becomes evident as Natalie becomes the person Lando turns to when he needs to unveil his rawest emotions.

In this shared sanctuary, emotions are laid bare, fostering an environment where both individuals can be genuine and authentic with each other. The acknowledgment of this mutual trust and safety cements their bond, making it clear that Natalie is someone with whom Lando can truly be himself, free from the constraints of public expectations.

“Before we get out, I wanted to chat to you about something.” Natalie starts once she’s parked their rental vehicle in the basement parking lot. Lando shoots her a curious look. “I know you’re disappointed with your result today, those feelings are completely valid and normal. You’re allowed to be upset. From my point of view, you did great today. It wasn’t an easy race, yet you did the best you could in the position you were in. You could have retired the car, but you didn’t. There are still so many opportunities to try again and keep proving to me, to McLaren, to the fans, to yourself, that you are a great driver. Today, you get to take in the disappointment and anger. Tomorrow you use that as your biggest motivation.”

As Lando waits for Natalie at the hotel's basement entrance, he experiences a moment of profound realisation. A small smile graces his lips, masking the depth of emotions swirling within him. In that quiet moment, clarity settles in, and Lando recognizes a sentiment that surpasses the bounds of friendship or camaraderie.

For the first time, the realisation dawns on him, clear as day—he has fallen in love with her. It's a revelation that adds a new layer to their dynamic, colouring his interactions with her in a different light. The simple act of waiting for her and opening the door takes on a significance that transcends the ordinary. As he ushers her inside, Lando's heart flutters with a mix of emotions—joy, vulnerability, and a newfound understanding of the depth of his feelings.

“There’s a dinner party tomorrow night. Pretty much everyone is going to be there. Don’t you maybe want to come with me?” Lando asks Natalie as they step inside the elevator. “Lily and Oscar are going to be there, plus some of the other girlfriends. We haven’t really gone out as a couple since this whole thing started. Maybe this is a safe, comfortable place to do that.”

As the elevator carries them to their respective floors, the air is charged with a newfound sense of anticipation and a subtle shift in their dynamic. Lando's invitation lingers in the confined space, creating a momentary pause filled with unspoken possibilities.

“Sure, why not?” Natalie responds, the words carrying a subtle warmth and willingness

“Great.” Lando concludes, his smile now more pronounced, and a touch of relief apparent in his expression. The elevator doors open, and as they step out into the hallway, Lando's gaze momentarily drops to the floor, a small but contented smile playing on his lips. “I’ll meet you in your room at 7.”

- THE NEXT NIGHT -

There is a subtle yet firm knock on the door. As Natalie opens the door, a soft creak echoes in the hallway, revealing the anticipation that lingers in the air. The subtle yet firm knock had hinted at something significant about to unfold. Natalie's appearance speaks volumes about the occasion. Her choice of a modest black dress and low block heels exudes a sense of understated elegance, suggesting a careful consideration of the event's atmosphere.

Natalie's effort to doll herself up adds a touch of mystery, as if she's unveiling a different facet of herself for this particular moment. The balance struck in her appearance is noticeable - not overly done, but with just enough transformation to pique curiosity. The minimal makeup on her face complements her natural beauty, enhancing rather than overpowering her features.

As the door swings open, the scene unfolds to reveal Lando standing on the other side. His attire, a crisp white button-down shirt paired with tailored black slacks, mirrors a classic and timeless sense of style. The monochrome contrast between their outfits suggests a harmonious coordination, as if they are both attuned to a shared understanding of the significance of the occasion.

As Lando steps into the hotel room behind Natalie, his gaze lingers on her with an undeniable intensity. The way her black dress hugs her curves and gracefully flows with each movement seems to captivate him. Natalie can feel the weight of his gaze, causing her heart to quicken its pace. It's evident that the air is charged with a mixture of anticipation and unspoken tension.

Despite the allure of the moment, Natalie wrestles with a twinge of uncertainty. Being not only Lando's fake girlfriend but also his PR manager, the boundaries between personal and professional blur. The upcoming party, where couples are expected to attend, adds an additional layer of complexity to the situation.

Natalie grapples with conflicting emotions. While part of her revels in the attention and the thrill of the moment, another part questions the wisdom of attending the party as Lando's date. The dual roles she plays in his life—personal and professional—create a delicate balance that she must navigate. Amidst the internal turmoil, Natalie takes a deep breath, silently reminding herself to be authentic. This internal mantra becomes her anchor in the midst of the whirlwind of emotions.

“You look great, by the way.” Lando finally comments with a compliment.

Lando's appreciation for Natalie's appearance is evident in his gaze, and as he comments on her attire, a gentle smile forms on her lips. The black dress that elegantly drapes over her tanned skin seems to have caught his attention, and the subtle play of colours enhances the overall effect. The genuine appreciation in his eyes prompts a rush of heat to Natalie's cheeks, a telltale sign of the compliment's impact.

“Thank you.” She says and glances up, strands of hair cascading around her face. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Not too bad? I’ve never looked better.” Lando teases, eliciting a hearty chuckle from Natalie.

“I’m ready when you are.” She tells him as her eyes sweep over his watch to check the time.

The atmosphere, once charged with anticipation and banter, shifts into a more decisive tone. Lando, acknowledging her words, nods in response, a silent affirmation that it's time to step into the next chapter of the evening.

In a subtle gesture, Lando invites Natalie to lead the way, gesturing for her to exit the room first. The chivalrous act is not lost on her, and with a gracious smile, she walks towards the door. The click of the latch echoes as Lando shuts the door behind them, sealing the room and leaving behind the private moments they shared.

The car comes to a halt outside the restaurant, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the evening. Lando, the consummate gentleman, opens his door and steps out, with Natalie gracefully following suit. As she emerges from the car, Lando extends a hand for her to grasp, a gesture that immediately establishes a connection between them.

Natalie's arm instinctively rises to clasp onto his bicep, creating a subtle yet intimate link as he leads her towards the entrance. The orchestrated choreography of their movements reflects the roles they play — the picture-perfect couple making a grand entrance into a glamorous event.

However, the transition from the confines of the car to the bustling scene outside exposes them to the glaring lights of cameras and the cacophony of photographers vying for Lando's attention. The flash bulbs flicker from all angles, capturing this moment of entrance into the public eye. Photographers shout for Lando to pose, adding an additional layer of pressure to the already charged atmosphere.

Natalie, suddenly feeling the weight of all eyes on them, keeps her head down, a sudden shyness overtaking her. The contrast between their private moments around the paddock, where they could hold hands freely, and this public spectacle becomes stark.

Inside the restaurant, Natalie deliberately lowers her arm, allowing it to hang beside her, creating a noticeable distance between her and Lando. Although he wishes she would continue holding onto him, he respects her need for space. Natalie, a ball of nerves, feels a mix of emotions, captivated by Lando in every way possible.

Not touching him becomes a strategy to maintain control over her swirling emotions. It's a self-imposed boundary in this intricate dance of roles and feelings. She reminds herself that this is a dangerous game, a delicate balancing act between the personal and the staged. As much as the public eye demands a convincing portrayal of a couple, she grapples with the complexities of her own feelings.

This evening marks the first time the rest of the grid will see them as a couple outside the paddock. The stakes are high, and the unknowns add an extra layer of uncertainty. Natalie hesitates to hold Lando's hand, fully aware of the clammy anxiety that lingers on her palms. The thought of exposing her vulnerability to the scrutinising eyes of the public and the racing world gives her pause.

As the overwhelming act of casual chit-chat and the gathering of a small group of drivers and their girlfriends engulfs Natalie, a wave of unexpected vulnerability crashes over her. Despite her usual confident and composed demeanour, the intensity of the moment becomes too much to bear. The public scrutiny, the unfamiliarity of being in the spotlight with Lando, and the weight of recent events—particularly the assault in Shanghai—create a perfect storm of emotions.

In a sudden, uncharacteristic move, Natalie finds herself pressed against Lando's side, seeking the reassurance of his touch. The physical proximity provides a momentary refuge from the chaos surrounding them. Her usual reserve gives way to a rare display of vulnerability, and in the shelter of Lando's presence, she finds a sense of security.

The assault in Shanghai, perhaps more impactful than she initially realised, has left a mark on her psyche. The unexpected need for comfort in this high-pressure situation hints at the deeper emotional toll of recent events. Lando, sensing her unspoken distress, offers a supportive presence, silently acknowledging the uncharted territory they find themselves navigating.

“You OK?” Lando leans down and whispers into her ear, attuned to Natalie's unspoken distress,

“I will be.” Natalie, steadying herself, assures him.

As if to reinforce her words, she grasps his hand, and he reciprocates by intertwining his fingers with hers. The tactile connection becomes a source of comfort and solidarity amid the chaos.

As Lando is enveloped by the enthusiastic greeting from Daniel Ricciardo, Natalie hesitates, uncertain of her place in this dynamic. She trails behind Lando as he seamlessly integrates into the driver clique, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces like Carlos, Charles, and Pierre. Charles, spotting Natalie, breaks the ice with a warm inquiry.

“Natalie, how are you?” Charles asks, his friendly demeanour putting her at ease. The exchange extends into a small hug, a gesture that adds a touch of casualness to the formalities.

“I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?” She responds with a polite smile.

“I’m doing good.” He answers and smiles.

“Where’s Alexandra?” Natalie asks as she looks around and spots some familiar faces.

“She had to go back to Monaco for college.” Charles answers.

“Lies. The two are on some rocky terrain if you know what I mean.” Pierre interjects with an evil smile.

Natalie, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation, lets out a light chuckle, realising the banter among the drivers is not confined to the racetrack. The casual and candid nature of their interactions serves as a reminder that, despite the orchestrated nature of their public appearances, the racing world is also a community where personal dynamics play out in unexpected ways. Natalie, still finding her footing in this social setting, observes the banter with a mix of amusement and curiosity, recognizing that the public personas of the drivers often conceal a more complex reality.

As the banter continues among the drivers, Lando, perhaps unconsciously, snakes an arm around Natalie's waist, pulling her subtly closer. The unspoken gesture, an instinctive response to the casual camaraderie around them, creates a moment of shared intimacy.

Caught off guard by the unexpected closeness, Natalie turns to peer up at Lando, her eyes seeking an unspoken explanation or perhaps questioning if he wants to convey something specific. In that exchanged glance, there's a silent communication, a subtle acknowledgment of the complexities they navigate together, both in their fabricated relationship and the genuine connection that underlies it.

Despite the outward composure, Lando feels a twinge of discomfort witnessing how easily Natalie integrates with the other drivers. The banter and camaraderie she shares with them, including the casual exchanges and light touches, stir an unexpected feeling within him. It's a mix of possessiveness and vulnerability, an unfamiliar territory for Lando.

The sound of a tapping knife against a champagne flute echoes through the room, cutting through the buzz of conversation and drawing everyone's attention. Max, seizing the moment, becomes the focal point of the gathering. The subtle, rhythmic tapping serves as a signal for silence, creating a moment of anticipation.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming out tonight.” Max begins, his voice carrying across the room. The appreciation in his tone sets a positive and welcoming tone for the evening. “We’ll be heading in for dinner in a few minutes. If you could please make your way into the main dining hall. Thank you.”

As Natalie follows Lando into the main dining hall, they find their designated seats between Rebecca and Carlos on Lando's side, with Charles sitting on Natalie's side. The hum of chatter resumes as everyone settles down, and the ambiance of the elegant dining hall sets the stage for the next phase of the evening.

As meals are served, the room comes alive with a symphony of conversations and clinking cutlery. The atmosphere is a blend of socialising and the enjoyment of the delectable dishes. In the midst of the lively chatter, Charles takes a moment to lean over to Natalie.

“I visited South Africa back when I was still a young boy. I can’t remember much about it but I do remember my father taking me and my brothers to Robben Island. Do you miss it at all?” He asks.

“Oh, definitely. I’ve travelled a bit the last few years, and without a doubt, I’d say South Africa is the most beautiful place.” Her words carry a touch of nostalgia and affection for her homeland, revealing a deeper connection to the country that holds a special place in her heart.

As the evening progresses, Natalie and Charles find themselves engrossed in conversation, seamlessly navigating various topics until dessert is served. The genuine connection between them becomes evident as they share stories, exchange laughs, and connect over shared experiences.

However, Lando, observant of the developing rapport between Natalie and Charles, can't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. The subtle chemistry and camaraderie between the two do not escape his notice, causing a sense of unease to settle within him.

The dinner, meant to be a glamorous social affair, takes on a more complex tone for Lando as he grapples with the unexpected dynamics unfolding before him. The discomfort grows as he watches Natalie engage with Charles, and an undercurrent of tension simmers beneath the surface.

“Natalie.” Rebecca calls out from next to Carlos beside Lando.

Rebecca's call captures Natalie's attention, prompting her to lean slightly over Lando to hear the suggestion. In the process, she instinctively rests her hand on Lando's knee for support, a casual gesture that feels natural in the midst of the lively dinner conversation.

“We should meet up sometime and go play some paddle.” Rebecca suggests.

“Oh, that would be great. Although I’m not too good.” Natalie responds with enthusiasm.

“But Lando is a great teacher.” Carlos interjects with a chuckle.

As Natalie sits back, she removes her hand from Lando's knee, and a noticeable change in the atmosphere occurs. A cold shiver runs through Lando's body as he yearns for the warmth of her touch. The shifting dynamics at the dinner table catch his attention, but a conversation at the end of the table, involving Alex, Max, and George, draws him in.

Leaning back in his chair, Lando subtly rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair. As she becomes engaged in the conversation, she leans back into her chair, only to be met with Lando's arm. Hesitating for a moment, Natalie contemplates leaning forward onto the table, but Lando's gentle touch on her exposed shoulder communicates a silent invitation. His thumb rubs against her skin, indicating that she is welcome to lean back. Though brief, his fingers linger for a few seconds before he withdraws them.

Natalie's heart races, and she finds herself no longer invested in the steak debate. Instead, her thoughts are consumed by the calmness that Lando's touch brought. Throughout the evening, she had battled with anxiety and the pressures of the social setting. Lando's touch becomes a grounding force, providing her a moment of security amidst the swirling complexities.

As the night progresses, couples gradually begin to depart from the table, heading back to their hotels for the evening.

“We might as well walk to the car?” Lando suggests. Natalie agrees, and they start strolling down the sidewalk together.

In the quieter atmosphere, away from the buzz of the event, Lando turns to Natalie.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He wonders as they continue to stroll towards their car.

The city street is now dimly lit, and the paparazzi, who were once a constant presence, have disappeared, leaving behind occasional camera flashes.

“I did. It was nice seeing everyone outside of the paddock just being themselves.” Natalie responds.

The sincerity in her voice reflects the genuine enjoyment she found in the evening. The shift from the glamour of the event to the calm of the nighttime stroll provides a moment of reflection for both of them, allowing a more personal and honest conversation to unfold. Lando, sensing a potential shift in dynamics, breaks the ice with a question.

“You and Charles seemed to get along quite well. Anything I should be worried about?” A subtle note of curiosity underlies his words.

“Oh, Charles, who has a girlfriend? You're not jealous, are you?” Natalie responds with a teasing tone.

“Would it be so bad if I was just a tiny bit?” Lando, not entirely dismissing the idea, counters with a mischievous smirk.

“He is cute. It must be the dimples.” Natalie continues to tease Lando, observing his reaction.

“I have dimples too.” Lando defensively quips, slightly offended by the implication. Natalie, with a mischievous glint in her eye, pokes Lando's cheek. His dimple immediately forms under her touch, and he can't help but smile at her.

“I never said who 'he' was.” Natalie adds, leaving room for interpretation and playfulness in their exchange.

The banter fades into a comfortable silence as Lando and Natalie reach the car. The quietude surrounds them, offering a moment of reprieve from the lively atmosphere of the evening. Lando, true to his courteous nature, extends a helping hand to assist Natalie into the safety of the vehicle.

As she settles into the car, the door closing behind her, a sense of calm descends upon the scene. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow on the car, creating a serene ambiance within the confines of the vehicle.

“You seem to be feeling better?” She inquires, directing the topic away from the events of the evening.

“I am feeling better. What you said yesterday really made me realise I’m just too in my head.” Lando admits.

“I think this is your season, honestly.” Natalie, exuding confidence, states.

“You reckon?” Lando laughs, a touch of genuine amusement in his voice.

“You have a fast car. You have the talent. Why not?” Natalie explains, emphasising the factors that contribute to Lando's potential for success.

“I think you’ve just become my favourite person.” Lando jokes as he starts the car.

The night air carries a sense of quiet as Lando walks Natalie back to her hotel room, which happens to be just a few doors down from his own. Natalie, reaching into her purse, retrieves the keycard and taps it against the keypad, expecting the door to open. However, it doesn't respond as anticipated. Perplexed, she tries again, but the door remains shut.

Lando, sensing her frustration, offers to give it a try. He takes the keycard from Natalie and taps it against the keypad, but the door continues to defy their attempts to unlock it. A bemused expression crosses both their faces as they face the unexpected challenge. The situation adds a touch of humour to the end of the night, and Lando can't help but chuckle.

“Well, it seems like the door has a mind of its own tonight.” He remarks, sharing a light moment with Natalie amidst the minor hiccup.

Natalie, undeterred by the door malfunction, takes a pragmatic approach.

“I’ll go down to reception and ask them to open it for me.” Natalie states as she turns to return to the elevator.

“Natalie.” Lando interjects, his use of her full name giving her goosebumps and causing her to stop in her tracks. “It’s late. Why don’t you just call them from my room?”

Lando leads Natalie to his hotel room, opening the door and inviting her inside. However, the scene that unfolds is unexpected—his room is noticeably messy. Clothes strewn about, items scattered, and a general disarray create an atmosphere that contrasts with the composed exterior Lando usually presents.

Natalie, momentarily taken aback by the sight, glances around the room.

“Quite the organised chaos you've got going on here, Lan.” A subtle smile crosses her face, as she remarks with a teasing tone.

“Sorry for the mess. I couldn’t decide what to wear.” Lando, acknowledging the state of his room, offers an apologetic explanation.

Natalie responds with a chuckle, understanding the dilemma that can arise when selecting the perfect outfit. Humoured by the disorder, Natalie heads for the landline and dials the reception number.

“Good evening, this is Natalie Feldt. I’m a guest in room 0422, but my keycard isn’t opening the door.” Natalie explains to the receptionist.

“We apologise for the inconvenience, Miss, but our technician will only be in at 8 tomorrow morning. We can set you up with a new room until then.” The receptionist explains, offering a solution to the door lock issue.

Natalie, faced with the delay in resolving the situation, sighs and holds the phone against her chest. In a whispered exchange with Lando, she shares the receptionist's response, the inconvenience adding another layer of unexpected events to the end of their night.

“Just stay here tonight.” Lando whispers to Natalie as a solution to the temporary inconvenience.

“Are you sure?” Natalie seeks confirmation from him.

“Of course.” He assures her, his tone conveying genuine warmth and consideration.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” She explains to the receptionist before ending the call.

Lando, ever the problem-solver, offers a thoughtful solution to Natalie's situation.

“You know, I’ve learnt to keep a spare set of clothes in my suitcase for you.” He reveals with a grin. Resourceful and prepared, he searches the room and soon finds a large shirt and sweatpants. “Here you go. Comfy and cosy.”

“I think I have more of your clothes in my suitcase than my own at this point.” Natalie concedes as she takes the clothes from him.

As Natalie takes the clothes from Lando, their fingers graze each other in a subtle yet palpable moment. The gentle touch adds an extra layer of intimacy to the exchange, a fleeting connection that lingers in the air as she heads for the bathroom.

Natalie returns from the bathroom to find Lando balled up under the covers, engrossed in his phone. Without much ado, she climbs into bed beside him, settling in for a night's rest. The comfortable familiarity between them permeates the room, and the soft glow of the phone screen provides a dim light as they prepare to call it a night.

Natalie wakes up in the pitch-black hotel room, aware of the stillness around her. Lando's deep breaths provide a rhythmic backdrop, and she can feel his warm breath on her back. As she turns slightly, she discovers Lando behind her, his curly head of hair almost buried in the pillow.

In a gentle and intimate embrace, Lando spoons her from behind. His arm rests on her hip, creating a sense of closeness and warmth. The quietude of the room is broken only by the soft sounds of their breathing, creating a tranquil moment in the middle of the night.

Natalie, still wrapped in the mystery of the night, can't recall exactly when she fell asleep or how they ended up in such close proximity. As she relaxes back onto the pillow, a deep sigh escapes her. A few moments later, she feels Lando pulling her even closer to him.

His face inches away from her neck, she becomes acutely aware of his warm breath on her exposed skin. The sensation sends a wave of goosebumps across her body. In the quiet darkness of the hotel room, Natalie, aware of the gentle touch between their hands, rests her hand next to Lando's on her waist. Slowly, their fingers touch, creating a connection that is both subtle and significant. However, she decides that's as far as she's willing to take it, stopping at the comforting touch.

The slight contact is a source of solace for Natalie. She feels safe, wrapped up in Lando's space and scent, an experience she hasn't had in a very long time. She wonders if the tension she imagines between them is real or just a product of her own emotions.

Meanwhile, Lando stirs, feeling her cold fingertips graze against his. He's awake enough to realise that Natalie is also awake. Rather than pulling away, she stays beside him in the bed and initiates a small physical touch, a gesture that sends his heart rate into overdrive. However, he decides to feign sleep, not wanting the moment to turn awkward and unsure of how to navigate the unspoken connection that lingers in the quiet room.

As Natalie stares at the bedside clock, she watches the minutes tick by, unable to fall back asleep. She senses that Lando is no longer in a deep sleep, and the realisation that any movement from her could wake him up lingers in her mind. Concerned about the potential awkwardness, she decides to rip her hand away from him, not wanting to give the impression of anything more than a casual touch.

Lando, feeling the absence of her hand, grows cold. He, too, caves in and withdraws his hand from her waist. His hand travels down her arm, searching for her hand again. Natalie holds her breath as he intertwines their fingers, a moment of tension and anticipation.

“It’s freezing.” Lando whispers, his voice and breath against her neck causing her to shiver. In response, she presses against him even further.

“It is.” She whispers in agreement, the shared moment suspended in the quiet room.

“It’s a lot warmer with you here.” Lando confesses, his voice soft and gentle.

As Natalie simply hums in response, a peaceful tranquillity settles in the room. Finally relaxing in Lando's embrace, the two of them drift into a shared slumber, wrapped up in each other

---------------------------

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc

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championari · 11 months ago

Text

Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.

I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them.

So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.

I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about.

Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.

“I don’t do families.”

“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”

“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”

“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]

The entirety of The Lodger

“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”

The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?

Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die.

“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”

This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’

This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.

Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact.

Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.

“This planet is protected.”

“Christmas has a new sheriff.”

For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it.

“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”

“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.”

There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death.

Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.

Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation.

“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library.

The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head.

While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.

The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.

So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?

The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.

Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments.

“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”

Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why.

“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”

But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that.

Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.

“But you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”

15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe.

But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it.

Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time.

She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness.

“Doctor! You can stop now!”

“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”

“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.”

“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”

Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.

Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”

Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind.

That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.

And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping?

“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #fourteenth doctor #donna noble #dw meta #dw spoilers #doctor who meta #meta writing

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limnsaber · 1 year ago

Text

Mandalorian Slash Fic Rec List - DinLuke Volume I: Big, Medium, Heartfelt and Solemn

Hello!! Welcome to the first volume of Mando Slash Fic Rec- Dinluke! This is a collection of Dinluke fics that have a notable wordcount and fics that have a more heartfelt/solemn tone, sorted under headings that make the most sense to me personally. For reference, 🔐 means a restricted work and 💜 means an personal favorite. Check out Mando Gen lists I, II, and III. Please enjoy and give love to our cherished fic authors who we owe so much to!! -Yours, Limn <3

Big and Long and Impressive

💜 The Wanderer and the Seer by @kevystel (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mandalorian Politics, Original Mandalorian Characters, Mandalorian Culture, Diaspora, Teen, one of my favorites!!, 98k)

Din Djarin is temporarily relieved of a single dad's responsibilities, only to be saddled with the much greater responsibilities of Mand'alor. Temporarily. Hopefully. This is not the story of a great man becoming king; it's the story of some dude finding his place in the galaxy, freedom, and personal happiness through having some goddamn decency and good manners. Also the power of love, or whatever.

finding the lost and losing the found (series) by deniigiq (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mandalorian Politics, Romance, Family Dynamics, Political Alliances, Teen, 35k)

“So you’re not stealing my ship?” Mando said. “What do I want with your ship?” Luke demanded. “I don’t know. I don’t usually ask,” Mando said. (Luke tries to help his student stay focused on his studies by helping his student's father. It's harder than it looks.)

A Near-Mythological Event by SybilStarnes (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Force Sensitive Din Djarin, Mand'alor Din Djarin, Living Waters of Mandalore, The Mandalorian Darksaber, Explicit, 116k)

Desperate to rejoin The Tribe, Din Djarin (with Grogu) travels to Mandalore to seek the Living Waters. Once they're in the caverns below the destroyed mine, a cave-in cuts off their exit. Grogu calls for help, and the legendary Luke Skywalker responds. Cleansed by the Living Waters, Din returns to his Tribe to reswear to the Creed. He discovers it has new members, attracted to a Child of the Watch bearing the Darksaber. Meanwhile, Luke has offered to help Din learn to use the weapon. The Mandalorian finds himself on a new path, one that draws him deeper into Mandalorian politics and closer to the Jedi. With the help of several guest stars, including one fat and sassy Force ghost, Din struggles to free Mandalore from Imperial dominance.

All the pretty places that feel like home (series) by SunshineAndaLittleFlour (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, two dangerous warriors coparenting a tiny frog, Explicit, 73k)

“Would you be more comfortable if I called you something else?” Luke asked, and it should have been teasing, but it was genuine, the soft freedom to be who he wanted in this place. And that careful gift, that offer of being who he wanted, uncontrolled and unfettered, filled Din with a lot of hope and a little bit of terror. Who was he without the creed? His people? Who was Din Djarin, standing in the halls of someone who had once been his people’s greatest enemy? Din shook his head, hearing his own breathing echo inside his helmet. “No. You can,” he faltered briefly, then took a deep breath. “You can call me by my name.”

buy a big house where we could both live by @villanellve (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn, Mature, 73k)

Din trails behind them and reminds himself this is temporary. He’ll make sure they get to the temple safe, and once he’s sure that Luke agrees to continue training Grogu, he’ll leave them. Grogu reaches up with his hand to tug at the edge of Luke’s shirt, and Din’s fingers flex at his sides. This is the way, he tells himself.

🔐 Get Back Homeward by berryfunkedup (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, POV Alternating, Jedi Tradtion & Culture, Clones, Getting Together, Teen, 42k)

Luke is at a stalemate with the New Republic in the aftermath of everything he lost in the war and his inheritance of the Jedi’s legacy. Din seeks his tribe and takes bounties, living according to the Way. And Grogu and the Jedi are not part of the Way. But he is definitely not the new Mand’alor, no matter what Mandalorian tradition about the Darksaber says. After Moff Gideon is assassinated while held in New Republic custody, Din and Luke must work together to clear the Mandalorians from blame and uncover the real culprit. Along the way they encounter terrible politicians, fights over naps, old secrets, and just maybe, find their way forward.

Medium and Impressive

parry, parry, strike by @alchemyalice (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Leia Organa, Post-Season 2, Teen, 18k)

“Oh? What are you, their king?” the Senator says sarcastically, and then freezes at the same time Din does. “...No,” Din says. He does not sound convincing.

I have made this place around you by HeadOn_HelmetOff (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Dialogue Heavy, Early Relationship, Introspection, Teen, 25k)

“Do you know who you are, Din Djarin?” Survivor of Aq Vetina. Mandalorian. Bounty hunter. Apostate. Father. Mand’alor. “...No,” he uttered. Luke nodded sagely. “Then that’s what we’ll focus on first.”

💜 A different kind of blood by HeadOn_HelmetOff (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, The Armorer, Paz Vizsla, Good Parent Din Djarin, Good Teacher Luke Skywalker, Pre-Relationship, Mandalorian Culture, Jedi Culture & Tradition, The Mandalorian Darksaber, Teen, 25k)

A slight twist on events in Ch. 5 of The Book of Boba Fett: when Grogu is afflicted with visions of his father injured on Glavis, he and Luke make a decision that will greatly influence Din Djarin's journey toward redemption and reconciliation with the survivors of his covert.

where the spirit meets the bone by @ebonybow (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Developing Relationship, Intimacy, Canon Divergence, Explicit, 28k)

He dreams of his head feeling too-heavy on his shoulders, his helmet filling slowly with water. - Din navigates new feelings regarding his creed, himself, and a certain Jedi.

pluck a heartstring, duck for cover by owlerie (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Canon Divergence, Mand'alor Din Djarin, POV Alternating, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Slow Burn, Sparring as Flirting, Mature, 28k)

“He's a bit of a sex icon, your Mandalorian," says Leia over breakfast the next morning, nose buried in a sea of taxation reports. Luke promptly inhales caf three inches up his airway and doubles over hacking gracelessly. “I— wait— he's not my Mandalorian," he chokes out, to which Leia raises a single dubious, well-groomed eyebrow.

Heartfelt and Solemn

crystals in the current by @willowcrowned (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Romance, Family, Luke Skywalker's Jedi Temple, The Force, Teen, 22k)

Luke gets the message from the child in the early evening. It’s spring on Yavin, and the wind smells like the glowing purple blossoms that cluster in the corners of old rooms and spring up through the pavement. The air is heavy with twilight, the orange-violet of the sky creeping its way down, filtering through the new-leafed boughs and down to where he’s sitting under a tree. or Luke takes Grogu, but the sundering on the lightcruiser isn't an ending; it's a beginning.

Timshel by skywalkers (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Force Visions, Hurt/Comfort, Order 66 (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Teen, 5k)

“I think there’s something I can do to help him. A technique I could try.” Luke says. “I could use your help.” “What do you need?” Din says. Anything, he thinks. Anything. “I think he would be more open to the process if you do it as well.” Luke’s eyes, keen and ever-blue, that have the impossible ability to find Din’s own behind his mask every time, meet his own. He looks unsure. It’s not something Din ever thought he’d ascribe to Luke Skywalker. “But the process can be...intense. I understand if you don’t want to do it.” Din flips it over in his mind for a moment, considering. He’s not exactly sure what Luke is asking of him. But what kind of an example would he be if he asked Grogu to do something he refused to? And, looking at Luke, how could Din refuse him anything? Not that he could ever say that. Din nods. “‘Course. Show him there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

resonance by pixie_rings (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Kyber Crystals, Planet Ilum, Gen, 10k)

Rebuilding a dying Order is never easy. While exploring the ruined planet Ilum, Grogu gets a calling, and Din and Luke reflect on their son growing up - with and without them.

the unbearable loneliness of distant stars by Liathejedi (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Teen, 10k)

Din wonders when the Jedi became Skywalker, and when Skywalker became Luke, or when the lines between stranger and friend had blurred and left him standing in an unfamiliar ship, folding bare hands around a man he barely knew and feeling like his breath had been lost to the stars. A Jedi and a Mandalorian face down the ashes of the Empire and learn what it means to rebuild a broken people.

Mand'alor, The by scheidswrites (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Grogu, Bo-Katan Kryze, Gen, 3.5k)

They called him Mand’alor the Reclaimer, Mand’alor the Unifier. Some have started to call him Mand’alor the Vanished. The rumors run rampant that he is dead.

#dinluke #skydalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #the mandalorian #star wars #long awaited fic rec! *blows party horn* hope you guys enjoy #figured it was time to post this actually! i get so much enjoyment out of reccing these & reading #them that I hope authors honored know that. consider this another comment on ao3 full of insane paragraphs.#recs? this is my appreciation post #vols II and III forthcoming.#lim's fic recs #star wars fanfiction recommendations

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thydungeongal · 2 months ago

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What would you say are some good examples of knowledge checks in games being good gameplay?

I think for a lot of people knowledge checks seem like the obvious benefit of having a character with high Intelligence (or the system equivalent), that the character would be well-read and might have lots of knowledge about the game world that the player might not. As an alternative to the GM deciding arbitrarily whether the character knows a given specific fact.

Or alternatively, good ways of addressing the above issues without knowledge checks.

I also hear comments like "GMs don't gate your lore behind a roll" but the alternatives to that seem like either offering exposition outright, or having that lore be discoverable in game (in which case it might have even less chance of being found)

So, while I agree that Knowledge skills do provide, on the surface, a benefit for playing a high Intelligence character, the actual emergent gameplay resulting from Knowledge checks the way they are often handled does not generate interesting gameplay within the context of a game like D&D.

If it's a piece of lore that is not critical to overcoming a challenge but that could provide further context to a situation I personally find it preferable to show, not tell. Provide the players with all the clues they need to put together the bigger picture, but leave the actual sussing out to them. A knowledge check to hand out such lore is basically a binary dice roll to grant the players access to a lore dump.

As part of a challenge knowledge checks are also a bit irksome. To make a knowledge check an integral part of a challenge you basically have to gate access to some knowledge, either behind gameplay (exploring to find that knowledge) or a check. You could do both, and in many ways that can be rewarding, basically allowing characters with the requisite knowledge skill to skip the exploring to find that knowledge part of the gameplay. But at the same time, it can very much feel like robbing the group of gameplay because of a dice roll. A single dice roll used to resolve a question of "do your characters know a thing" will almost without fail be less interesting than a series of hurdles that characters overcome to answer the question of "how will your characters find out the thing."

As for good ways to handle knowledge and reward high character Intelligence in gameplay, I think there are ways to do it that can be tied to the process of finding a piece of knowledge: I am quite fond of @cavegirlpoems's application of it in The Stygian Library, where character Intelligence plays a part in the central point of the module, which is looking for a specific piece of information within the library. Character Intelligence does not act as a way to automatically solve the puzzle, but as one component of the greater library crawl that determines how long characters will have to spend in the fucked up library.

But yeah, knowledge-based gates are already kinda naff and having the key be a binary dice roll is effectively non-gameplay. I understand how knowledge skills made their way into D&D, as a way to make the process of figuring out what a character knows less arbitrary, but after almost thirty years of playing D&D and other games I kind of feel that especially in the context of fantasy adventure games knowledge skills are kind of a solution looking for a problem.

A few ways I have seen "knowledge" type skills handled in interesting ways in games:

A knowledge check basically lets the character bank a number of questions relevant to the check result that the GM has to answer truthfully when the player wants more knowledge about a situation relevant to the situation.

Fantasy Craft has Knowledge checks, but no single Knowledge skill. Instead, characters have Studies which translate to bonuses on Knowledge checks but can also grant bonuses to other checks given they relayed to the study. (This is one of my favorite ways of handling Knowledge within the context of d20 based fantasy adventure games.)

I can't actually think of a third example right now

#thydungeongal answers

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robotsdeservebetter · 1 year ago

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Amber is not a bad person, you’re just mad that “Invincible” rightfully so told you that a girlfriend isn’t something the world owes you for being a good guy.

First of all, yes, Amber is flawed. Some of her actions were questionable, like threatening a bully to flirt with Mark or arguing with him in front of other people right before break up, which I see as her giving him a last chance to come clean, but, if I remember correctly, why in front of others? Also, she genuinely could have thought Mark ran away alone, leaving them, girlfriend and best friend, in danger, because him being Invincible is a theory from her POV, not a fact. Similar voice (even if it’s Steven Yuen), body and hair isn’t enough to say “Yep. Totally the same person”. And, actually, when the theory was confirmed true, it’s even worse than him just being a coward who suddenly leaves all the time. Why?

Because how in the world do you expect a relationship work, if you keep half of your life a secret? Boundaries are good, but Mark put a concrete wall with barbed wire and laser guns and hoped Amber would be understanding enough to pretend she’s blind until he decides it’s time. Amber did questionable things, she was impulsive at times, that’s true, but fuck ups isn’t a competition, it’s not healthy to treat them as such, which is why Amber’s anger was completely justified. Please take a look back at how he treated her.

He embarrassed Amber in front of her Mom by promising to come and not doing so. Mark showed up two hours later, when Amber’s Mom already wasn’t there to meet him. Imagine the awkwardness, the judgement, the “he will be there”. He mentioned things Amber was interested in, but due to him being able to do them thanks to superpowers, couldn’t elaborate, and blatantly changed the topic, which can sting, not enough to make an accusation, but obviously is a way to hide truth, alternatively, can be seen a lie to win Amber’s affections. He bought her a gift to make up for incoming fuck up, which can also sting (even if Amber is materialistic, her being an activist makes it safe to assume she was wondering whether that apology gift came from the stereotype or not). And of course, all the times he left with a made up excuse.

It’s important to note, that the show gave Mark a choice and that he made it. Eve told him that if he’s serious about Amber, he shouldn’t keep such secrets from her. Her own relationship fell apart due to lack of trust (and that Rex is overall a dick). The show made it clear that Mark doesn’t trust Amber, his girlfriend, enough to tell her. So what we have here is that Mark wants everything at once: a solid relationship, which requires both understanding and consent from Amber and trust from him, and safety of only chosen few to know his secret identity. He kept his identity secret, so next step should have been breaking up with Amber. Did he? No, he decided to string her along.

The show treats his decision to lie to Amber as a bad one because it is a bad decision. Mark’s feelings are valid, Amber’s are too and Amber felt left behind, kept as a token girlfriend. Mark only came clean when Amber broke up with him, as a last resort to keep their relationship. Trust isn’t a last resort, it’s the base of the base! Mark made his stance clear: “I don’t trust you, but I will use my sensitive information to convince you to stay and ignore my previous fuck ups”. Thinking about it, he practically used Invincible identity just like the expensive gift from fest: a grand gesture he made only when he risked losing Amber. This is not romantic, if you ask me and Amber.

What I’m trying to say is: Mark can risk his life every single day, and as unfair as it may feel, no other person is required to give him understanding, especially if they don’t know for sure what’s going on. Mark ended up with two opinions from Amber’s POV, both of which are horrible:

Not Invincible. He’s a coward, who leaves his girlfriend and best friend behind, not even trying to make them run away with him. He lies about being interested in same things as her. Brought a rock as a souvenir, which she regarded kindly. He upset Amber’s mom for no apparent reason. In response, all he could do is ask for forgiveness and not give any explanation. Conclusion: not a boyfriend material.

Is Invincible. He claimed to be serious about her, but kept half of his life, his genes a secret, which led to him stringing her along and only offering a “sorry” without explanations. Conclusion: he’s not serious about her, he might not understand it, but he’s not, serious relationship requires trust.

Then, why did she kiss him after a fight with Omni-man? Well, since she’s not an antagonist from any point of view, it’s safe to assume that Amber:

Still loved Mark. The amount of second chances she gave him, the amount of times she dosmissed his obvious lying speaks for her.

Wanted to comfort him and prevent awkwardness. They’re 17-18, how mature are any of them to accept Mark’s ex as a part of the gang without making it awkward?

Combining those two is what she came up with. Is it a good decision? I don’t think it is, they made up for now, but Mark trusts her now not because he decided he can, but because he was “forced” to tell (by plot or himself, so to speak, re-look at points made in paragraph 6. That didn’t come from his almost trust is what I mean).

In the end, fandom has nothing to complain about. Mark DID get his “my personality is to support you” girlfriend. Amber calmed down for now.

So yeah, Amber is not a bad character, she just doesn’t treat Mark like a god. You know who also doesn’t? Eve. A thing to note: Mark trusted her without question. A parallel? A will they won’t they? Who cares, we all know what will happen with their relationship anyway.

In the end I want to say, that I enjoyed Amber’s character. Despite being main superhero’s girlfriend, she didn’t feel generic, and that’s what makes Invincible so good for me: it’s aware of superhero tropes it can’t or chose not to avoid and executes them in a way that makes the characters ambiguous, in a way that makes me question the way I and fandoms categorise characters. Amber is flawed and that’s what makes her human. Writers took a risk to make things complicated, to make an imperfect woman of colour (please don’t say these don’t matter unless you understand racism and sexism can be subconscious), which you can say didn’t pay off, but I’m glad they took the risk, I enjoyed how it all turned out.

#amber bennett #mark grayson #invincible

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matchalovertrait · 11 months ago

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(Late) 2023 Simblr Gratitude Day!

I'm late but I still wanted to set some time aside to show my gratitude for all the lovely, amazing, and kind-hearted people in this community!

My Inspirations

♡ @amiisims: She deleted her account, but back in 2013, I came across her Tumblr (probably through the Sims Community Forum?). I read through her 100 Baby Challenge and made my little 13-year-old self want to create a Tumblr account and give the challenge a try too. It's really because of her that I learned I love being on here, sharing my sims, and seeing other people's sims and stories. I'm 23 now and things haven't changed.

♡ @misslollypopsims: She inspired me to try out the Joy of Life Challenge! I watch all the videos on YouTube and they're sooooooo good. I love her energy and creative mind. The way she cleverly uses the things that happen during her gameplays to develop a story is so fascinating to me.

@simelune: She created the Joy of Life Challenge! I love how thorough it is but still leaves a lot of room for freedom. The challenge is engaging and I don't feel so pressured trying to reach every goal. I also appreciate the meaning behind the challenge because it really is the small joys in life that make it worthwhile.

My Mutuals

I love all my mutuals and seeing what they do with their sims: @fayethegray, @babypeachx, @simiehoney, @loser-trait, @dumplingtrait, @coatedinhoney, @chocxuyu, @catfairysstuff, @sims-nation, @bergiesims, @xsidraax, @simmervlogs, @lilaclandscapes, @hyliedavenport, @eurosimmer, @katmk36, @tceesgamingworld, @simsgf, @thelovelysimz, @softsimming, @valerie-simblr, @enchantedsimmer93, @lunalovex0, @simdolls, @windslar, @d4isywhims, @simazinblr, @plasticpinkheart, @sooims, @clumsyteddy, @pixel-bloom, @okiyukiyo, @akitasimblr, and @onyey

A few honorable mentions:

♡ @miralure: Literally the sweetest person ever!! She's always commenting the nicest or funniest things on my posts, omg. She also reblogs a lot of them! I told her this, but it really means a lot coming from such a talented and creative person herself. Her sim style is so cute and the outfits she puts together are amazing.

♡ @lynnella: Ughhh, she's so nice and her sims from Attack on Titan are soo good. As far as I'm concerned, her posts are canon! She takes such beautiful screenshots too :)

♡ @linalinsims: I realized that she really keeps up with my posts and it's so sweet 😭 It'll be towards the end of the day and I see that she likes multiple of my posts in the span of a few minutes?? She doesn't have to do that and she does! Her sims and gameplay are lovely.

♡ @simsplymaddy: She's another kind person!! And the aesthetic of her entire blog?? The sims? The Holiday Gift Guides? My style is more emo/alternative/e-girl (I know it doesn't look like it by my Joy of Life Challenge, haha), but ugh, I love it. So well put together.

My Followers

I appreciate every single one of you and it makes me so happy knowing other people are enjoying seeing Noemi's journey :) I love your company.

#simblr gratitude day

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magicalchaosnut · 2 months ago

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My English class TED Talk script

TED Talk Title: Why We Shouldn’t Become Soup

Neon Genesis Evangelion is an anime that covers the relationships between several people with volatile personalities in a post apocalyptic world, uniquely fighting otherworldly beings while returning to the womb and experiencing intense pain, and suffering through their view of themselves and their idea of others’ perspectives.

The buildup of the series comes to a climax during the movie, leaving some philosophical questions to ponder over. For example, the Human Instrumentality Project and a look at whether individuality is a gift or a curse by showing the alternative: eternal togetherness or unity. Once this project is put into motion, all of humanity is subject to be a sea of ‘LCL’; soul fluid that melds into one eternal ocean of consciousness. The reason for this is the universal fear of loneliness, which was touched on earlier in the show with a discussion about the hedgehog's dilemma: the fear of hurting other people the closer you get to them, similar to a hedgehog trying to find warmth amongst others in its species during the winter.

Shinji shows this fear by continually running away from his caregiver, Misato, and his responsibilities as a pilot because he doesn’t want to get closer to the other pilot, Rei Ayanami, who he has started to care for. This is similar to his father, Gendo Ikari, and his fear of being a poor father. Instead of getting closer to his son after his wife’s death, he leaves his son behind which damages him more than his father’s presence would have.

Misato, the most recurring adult main character in the show, is afraid of getting close to Ryuuji Kaji because she is confident that she cannot open herself to him. Her personality is so cheerful on the outside, when in reality she has been stuck as a little girl who was sent away by her father who died in a nuclear explosion. She is afraid that Kaji will be like her father and leave her to fend for herself, and that she will be unable to reciprocate his feelings in the way that it matters. Ultimately, he dies and leaves Misato alone. Her fears are confirmed, but she is able to brave them through the closeness of Shinji as her pseudo-son in her final moments.

Asuka has a fear of others as well, taking it out more violently than Shinji by forming relationships where she thrives off of her superiority complex (which is really an inferiority complex) and can be considered the best. As she was a child prodigy who graduated college at age 14, she has all of the knowledge of an adult but little of the maturity that is expected of her, making her the extreme example of being a teenager: having all of the burden with none of the respect of experience that others want you to have already. She gets close enough to Shinji to be in sync as a fellow pilot, but never talks about her true drive to be considered good enough: her mother committing suicide while holding a doll of her, symbolizing that she wasn’t enough for her mother to stay alive for and would be more beneficial if she had been exactly as her mother wanted.

The will of God was sent to turn everyone into LCL to rid all people of the inescapable loneliness that they feel because they cannot understand each other. Like the angels before humanity, that are single entities of a species and nothing more, becoming one in the ocean of consciousness would eliminate loneliness and the social suffering that so many people in the post apocalyptic world fear. To retake the importance of being the central descendants of god, humanity feels they must ascend individuality. But in doing so, there is an infinite amount of unwavering suffering and no amount of time to alleviate the pain of one's sense of self when there are no other selves. Similar to how we can fight with our family members, but if we were to be only one self, we would be alone. You can’t be a family if you are just one person. In an effort to curb the societal loneliness felt by an entire population, the will of the few has caused an incurable loneliness that rids all of humanity of the chance to love another and try to understand by turning everyone into one thing. In summary, it is better to suffer for the sake of possible happiness and hope that you will understand people and make friends, than it is to give up and wallow in your own solitude.

The movie ends with Shinji understanding the sacrifice to live as an individual, which is the loneliness of consciousness. He lets the rest of the sea of consciousness decide whether they live for opportunity rather than be essentially comatose in an emotional stasis. The message of the series is that it's better to be lonely and try to be happy than it is to give up and be nothing at all. Even if everyone is unified in that nothingness.

#evangelion #end of evangelion #misato katsuragi #asuka langley soryu #shinji ikari #rei ayanami #gendo ikari #analysis #a cruel angel's thesis #anime analysis #neon genesis evangelion

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cielrouge · 2 years ago

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2022 YA Reads by Authors of Color

After life (Blue Bloods) by Melissa De La Cruz: After defeating Lucifer and sacrificing the love of her life, Schuyler wakes up back in New York, only to discover that an alternate reality where Lucifer is alive and well and she is the only person who can defeat him.

Ain’t Burned All the Bright by Jason Reynolds: A smash-up of art and text for teens that viscerally captures what it is to be Black in America right now.

Akata Woman (The Nsibidi Scripts #3) by Nnedi Okorafor: 15-year-old Sunny embarks on a mission to find a precious object and return it to the spider deity Udide, but defeating the guardians of Udide's ghazal will put all of Sunny's hard lessons and abilities to the test.

All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir: A story crossing generations and continents and addressing themes of cultural identity, family, forgiveness, love, and loss; told through the eyes of two best friends, Salahudin and Noor, growing up as outcasts and trying to find a way out of a world set on destroying them.

All the Right Reasons by Bethany Mangle: Cara Hawn and her mother go to Key West to join a reality show to pair single parents. There, Cara meets Connor and now she must juggle her growing feelings while helping her mom pick a bachelor they both love.

Almost There: Twisted Tales by Farrah Rochon: A year after Tiana makes a deal with Dr. Facilier, she has her restaurant, but soon shadows begin to gather and Tiana must work with Naveen and Charlotte to set things right or risk losing her soul.

Alone Out Here by Riley Redgate: A thriller set in a future in which First Daughter Leigh Chen and 53 other teens end up on the only ship escaping a dying Earth and must contend with being the last hope for humanity's survival.

An Arrow to the Moon by Emily X.R. Pan: Star-crossed lovers Hunter Yee and Luna Chang must navigate their families’ enmity and secrets as everything around them begins to fall apart.

And We Rise: The Civil Rights Movement in Poems by Erica Martin: A powerful, impactful, eye-opening journey that explores through the Civil rights movement in 1950s-1960s America in spare and evocative verse, with historical photos.

Anne of Greenville by Mariko Tamaki: In this contemporary retelling, Anne Shirley, a queer, half-Japanese disco superfan, moves to a town that seems too small for her big personality and where she becomes embroiled in a series of dramatic and unfortunate events.

As Long as the Lemon Tree Grows by Zoulfa Katouh: Set during the Syrian Revolution, former pharmacy student Salama Kassab volunteers at a hospital in Homs. Secretly, though, she is desperate to find a way out. So desperate, that she has manifested a physical embodiment of her fear in the form of her imagined companion, Khawf .But even with Khawf pressing her to leave, Salama is torn between her loyalty to her country and her conviction to survive.

Ashes of Gold (Wings of Ebony #2) by J. Elle: In the heart-pounding conclusion to the Wings of Ebony duology, Rue makes her final stand to reclaim her people’s stolen magic.

Azar on Fire by Olivia Abtahi: 14-year-old Azar Rossi sets out to find her voice and win her local Battle of the Bands contest.

Bad at Love by Gabriela Martins: Ever since Daniel moved to L.A. from Brazil to join the band Mischief & Mayhem, he’s become the tabloids’ bad boy. When a chance encounter brings Daniel and Sasha together, Sasha sees an opportunity to get close to Daniel and write a story that will make a name for herself at the celebrity gossip magazine where she interns. But Daniel is surprisingly sweet and extremely cute—could she be falling for him?

Ballad & Dagger by Daniel Jose Older: When 16-year-old Mateo and Chela discover each other and their powers during a political battle between neighborhood factions, they set aside their differences to unravel the mystery behind their sunken homeland.

Beasts by Ruin (Beasts of Prey #2) by Ayana Gray: Now separated,16-year-old indentured beastkeeper Koffi and 17-year-old warrior candidate Ekon will have to find their way back to each other as they face off against the god of death.

Beauty and the Besharam by Lillie Vale: Exhausted by Kavya Joshi and Ian Jun’s years-long feud, their friends hatch a plan to end their rivalry by convincing them to participate in a series of challenges throughout the summer.

Before Takeoff by Adi Alsaid: Two teens, James and Michelle, meet and fall in love during a layover-gone-wrong at the Atlanta airport.

Beating Heart Baby by Lio Min: 17-year-old Santi Arboleda finally feels settled in his new life in Los Angeles with a growing found family and a relationship with musical prodigy Suwa - until Suwa is offered the chance to step into the spotlight that he has always denied himsel fand they must finally face their dreams, their pasts, and their futures, whether together or apart.

Beneath the Wide Silk Sky by Emily Inouye Huey: With the recent death of her mother and the possibility of her family losing their farm, Samantha Sakamoto does not have space in her life for dreams, but when faced with prejudice and violence in her Washington State community after Pearl Harbor, she becomes determined to use her photography to document the bigotry around her.

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi: Pulled between old friendships, her creative passion, and a new romance, Bitter isn't sure where she belongs - in the art studio or in the streets. And if she does find a way to help the revolution while being true to who she is, she must also ask: at what cost?

The Black Girls Left Standing by Juliana Goodman: 16-year-old Beau Willet’s world is upended when her older sister is killed by a white cop who claims she was breaking into his house; desperate to find out what really happened, she sets out to find the only other witness who was there that night—her sister's boyfriend.

Blood Like Fate (Blood Like Magic #2) by Liselle Sambury: While struggling with her new role as Matriarch, Voya has a vision of a terrifying, deadly future, and with a newfound sense of purpose, she vows to do whatever it takes to bring her shattered community together and prevent the destruction of them all.

Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye: 15-year-old Sloane can incinerate an enemy at will—she is a Scion, a descendant of the ancient Orisha gods. But when she is forcibly conscripted into the Lucis army, Sloane sees a new opportunity: to overcome the bloody challenges of Lucis training, and destroy them from within.

Bloodmarked (Legendborn #2) by Tracy Deonn: When the Regents reveal they will do whatever it takes to hide an ancient war, Bree and her friends must go on the run to rescue Nick. If Bree has any hope of saving herself and the people she loves, she must learn to control her powers from the ancestors who wielded them first—without losing herself in the process.

Boys I Know by Anna Gracia: High school senior June Chu navigates messy boys and messier relationships.

Boys of the Beast by Monica Zepeda: Cousins Matt, Ethan and Oscar embark on a road trip through California and the Southwest come to terms with truths about their families and themselves.

Break This House by Candice Iloh: Yaminah Okar left Obsidian and the wreckage of her family years ago. She and her father have made lives for themselves in Brooklyn. But when a Facebook message about her estranged mother pierces Yaminah’s new bubble, she must finally reckon with the truth about her mother and the growing collapse of a place she once called home.

Briarcliff Prep by Brianna Peppins: In this coming-of-age story, Avi LeBeau juggles navigating her first year at a historically Black boarding school after she learns a devastating secret about her big sister’s boyfriend.

Burn Down, Rise Up by Vincent Tirado: When an urban legend rumored to trap people inside subway tunnels seems to be behind mysterious disappearances in the Bronx, 16-year-old Raquel and her friends team up to save their city--and confront a dark episode in its history in the process.

Cafe Con Lychee by Emery Lee: A dual pov enemies-to-lovers contemporary romcom following Theo Mori and Gabe Moreno, rival sons of competing family businesses--a Puerto Rican bakery and an Asian American cafe--who form an unlikely alliance running an underground coffee and boba shop at school after a new fusion cafe threatens their parents' stores.

The Chandler Legacies by Abdi Nazemian: At Chandler, the elite boarding school, five teens are brought together in the Circle, a coveted writing group where life-changing friendships are born—and secrets are revealed.

The Charmed List by Julie Abe: 16-year-old Ellie Kobata’s summer plans to shed her wallflower persona are upended when she is forced to go on a road trip to the Magical Retailers' Convention with her former best friend Jack Yasuda, but what starts out as a punishment turns into an opportunity to find forgiveness and possibly love.

Cherish Farrah by Bethany C. Morrow: 17-year-old Farrah Turner manipulates her way into lives of her Black best friend Cherish Whitman’s white adopted family, but she soon begins to suspect that she may not be the only one invested in engineering a place in the affluent household, and someone else's motives may be more disturbing than her own.

The Chosen One by Echo Brown: Anchored in magical realism, a personal account of a first-generation African-American student's first year at Dartmouth College.

Cinder & Glass by Melissa de la Cruz: In this lush, retold fairy tale classic, Cendrillon “Cinder” de Louvois catches the eye of the handsome Prince Louis and his younger brother Auguste at a royal ball. As Cinder grows closer to Auguste and dislikes Louis more and more, she will have to decide if she can bear losing the boy she loves in order to leave a life she hates.

Cold by Mariko Tamaki: Told in alternating perspectives, Todd replays the events that lead to his death in the local park, watching as detectives investigate his murder and talk to the students responsible for it, and meanwhile Georgia, who does not know Todd, cannot stop thinking about him.

The Color of the Sky Is The Shape of the Heart by Chesil: Inspired by a mysterious message, 17-year-old Ginny Park sets off to find herself as she reflects on her experiences of growing up Zainichi, an ethnic Korean born in Japan, and the incident that forced her to leave years prior.

Confessions of An Alleged Good Girl by Joya Coffney: In small-town Texas, preacher’s daughter Monique embarks on journey toward loving herself and her body, as well as discovering the value of a true friend.

The Darkening by Sunya Mara: Vesper Vale is the daughter of revolutionaries. Failed revolutionaries. When her mother was caught by the queen's soldiers, they gave her a choice: death by the hangman's axe, or death by the Storm that surrounds the city and curses anyone it touches. She chose the Storm. And when the queen's soldiers--led by a paranoid prince--catch up to Vesper's father after twelve years on the run, Vesper will do whatever it takes to save him from sharing that fate.

Daughters of the Dawn by Sarena & Sasha Nanua: Twin princesses Ria and Rani journey deep into dangerous new lands to save their home in this propulsive, immersive sequel to Sisters of the Snake.

Dauntless by Elisa A. Bonnin: Seri, Borderland teen and new assistant to Eshai Unbroken, local commander of the Valiants, may be the only person who can bridge the divide between the People who build their dwellings in the spreading trees and the "beasts" who roam the forest floors.

The Dawn of Yangchen by F.C. Yee: Plagued by the voices of Avatars before her for as long as she can remember, Yangchen has not yet earned the respect felt for her predecessor. When she travels to Bin-Er on political business, a chance encounter with an informant named Kavik leads to a wary partnership. As Yangchen and Kavik seek to thwart the corrupt shangs’ plan, their unlikely friendship deepens. But for Yangchen to chart her course as a singularly powerful Avatar, she must learn to rely on her own wisdom.

Dead Flip by Sara Farizan: 18-year-old former friends Cori and Maz reunite to solve the mystery of what happened to their other friend Sam--who disappeared 5 years ago and has now returned, not having aged at all.

Debating Darcy by Sayantani DasGupta: A life-long speech competitor, Leela Bose loves nothing more than crushing the competition. But when Leela meets the incorrigible Firoze Darcy, a fellow competitor in the state league, she can’t stand him. But Leela’s participation in the tournament reveals that she might have misjudged the debaters - including Darcy.

Deep in Providence by Riss A. Neilson: After Jasmine is killed, her remaining best friends Miliani, Inez, and Natalie plan to resurrect her using magic learned from Miliani's Filipino aunt, but their actions have dangerous consequences that threaten themselves and those they care about.

Diamond Park by Phillipe Diederich: When four Mexican-American teenagers from Houston travel to Diamond Park to buy a 1959 Chevy Impala from Magaña's godfather, something goes very wrong, and one of them, Susi, ends up arrested for murder. Convinced that the real killer is a drug trafficker called Anaconda, Flaco and Magaña head to Mexico hunting for him to clear Susi's name--but in the process of kidnapping Anaconda Flaco discovers how little he understands about what really happened in Diamond Park.

Direwood by Catherine Yu: After Aja’s perfect older sister Fiona disappears when a strange weather event isolates their town, she must put her trust in a vicious but alluring vampire if she wants to see her sister again.

Does My Body Offend You? by Mayra Cuevas & Marie Marquardt: A coming-of-age story told in two points of view, about Puerto Rican teen Malena Rosario who seeks justice after running afoul of her school's sexist dress code, and Ruby McAllister, the white girl who wants to help her lead "the bra-bellion" but must first learn how to become an effective ally; exploring themes of implicit bias, social activism, and female friendship

The Dragon’s Promise (Six Crimson Cranes #2) by Elizabeth Lim: Princess Shiori made a deathbed promise to return the dragon's pearl to its rightful owner, but keeping that promise is more dangerous than she ever imagined.

The Dream Runners by Shveta Thakar: Spirited away to the subterranean realm of Nagalok as children, 17-year-olds Tanvi and Venkat are charged with harvesting human dreams for the entertainment of the naga court--until one of them begins to remember the mortal life she left behind.

Drizzle, Dreams and Lovestruck Things by Maya Prasad: Sisters Nidhi, Avani, Sirisha, and Rani experience romance and coming-of-age while working at their family's inn on Orcas Island.

Echoes of Grace by Guadalupe Garcia McCall: On the Texas-Mexico border, 18-year-old Grace's relationship with her older sister Mercy is fractured when Mercy's two-year-old son dies in an accident, bringing to the surface old family traumas and literal ghosts as the family struggles to heal.

The Empress of Time by Kylie Lee Baker: Half Reaper, half Shinigami soul collector Ren Scarborough must defend her title as Japan's Death Goddess from those who would see her--and all of Japan--destroyed.

Empress Crowned in Red by Ciannon Smart: Witches Iraya and Jazmyne must once again work together as a new enemy threatens Aiyca, even as betrayal lurks around every corner.

Even When Your Voice Shakes by Ruby Yayra Goka: After Amberley is raped by her employer's son she realizes she two choices--stay quiet and keep her job or live her truth and speak up for herself and for justice.

Every Variable of Us by Charles A. Bush: After she is injured in a gang shooting, 17-year-old Alexis Duncan's dreams of a college scholarship and pro basketball career vanish, but, encouraged by new student Aamani Chakrabarti, Alexis shifts her focus to the school's STEM quiz bowl team.

Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland: Kelsie Miller and Eric Mulvaney Ortiz, rivals for valedictorian, team up on an overnight road trip to the University of Pennsylvania to win back their exes.

Feather and Flame: The Queen’s Council #2 by Livia Blackburne: Mulan goes from a celebrated war hero to a reluctant Empress and must once again rise above expectations and prove she doesn't have to be anyone but herself to save China.

No Filter and Other Lies by Crystal Maldonado: 17-year-old Kat Sanchez uses photos of a friend to create a fake Instagram account, but when one of her posts goes viral and exposes Kat's duplicity, her entire world--both real and pretend--comes crashing down around her.

The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi: Sylah dreams of days growing up in the resistance, being told she would spark a revolution that would free the Empire from the red-blooded ruling classes' tyranny. Anoor has been told she’s nothing, no one, a disappointment, by the only person who matters: her mother, the most powerful ruler in the empire. But when Sylah and Anoor meet, a fire burns between them that could consume the kingdom—and their hearts. Hassa’s invisibility has its uses: it can hide the most dangerous of secrets, secrets that can reignite a revolution. As the Empire begins a set of trials of combat and skill designed to find its new leaders, the stage is set for blood to flow, power to shift, and cities to burn.

Finding Jupiter by Kellis Rowe: Teens Orion and Ray meet at the local Memphis skating rink and fall fast and hard into summer love, until a mystery from their past threatens to rip them—and their families—apart, even if their love is written in the stars.

Fireworks by Alice Lin: 17-year-old Lulu Li’s summer plans go awry when she learns that Kite Xu, her old next-door neighbor and childhood friend, returns. But how could a K-pop star ever fall for a nobody from home?

The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera: Strangers Orion Pagan and Valentino Prince spend a life-changing day together after Death-Cast first makes their fateful calls.

Flip the Script by Lyla Lee: Korean American actress Hana Jin she can totally handle her fake co-star boyfriend and K-pop star, Bryan Yoon, who might be falling in love with her. But when showrunners bring on a new girl, Minjee Park, to challenge Hana’s role as main love interest—can Hana fight for her position on the show while falling for her on-screen rival in real life?

Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong: In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies, Rosalind Lang and Orion Hong, pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city.

The Genesis Wars (Infinity Courts #2) by Akemi Dawn Bowman: Nami has escaped Ophelia and the Courts of Infinity, and found refuge in the Borderlands; she has spent her days training her body and mind so that when the time comes she will be able to navigate Infinity and rescue her captured friends, and now she has made a breakthrough, gaining the ability to enter minds without permission--the answers she needs are in Prince Caelan's mind, but his betrayal has left her unsure.

The Getaway by Lamar Giles: After a global catastrophe, Jay discovers the world-famous vacation resort where he lives and works doubles as a luxury doomsday refuge for the cruel billionaires he's now trapped with.

The Ghosts of Rose Hill by R. M. Romero: Sent to stay with her aunt in Prague and witness the humble life of an artist, Ilana Lopez—a biracial Jewish girl—finds herself torn between her dream of becoming a violinist and her immigrant parents’ desire for her to pursue a more stable career.

The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh: In this retelling of Shim Cheong, 16-year-old Mina is swept away to the Spirit Realm, where, assisted by a motley crew of demons, gods, and lesser spirits, she sets out to awaken the sleeping Sea God and save her homeland and family from deadly storms.

A Girl’s Guide to Love & Magic by Debbie Rigaud: 15-year-old Haitian American Cicely is excited to celebrate the West Indian Day Parade with her aunt, and voodoo dabbler, Mimose, but when Mimose's dabbling goes awry and she becomes possessed by a spirit, Cicely, Renee, and Kwame, her crush, must find a way to set things right.

Godslayers (Gearbreakers #2) by Zoe Hana Mikuta: Eris and Sona are pitted against each other in the ongoing war between Godolia and the Badlands.

Great or Nothing by Caroline Tung Richmond & Joy McCullough & Tess Sharpe & Jessica Spotwood: A reimagining of Little Women set in the spring of 1942, when the United States is suddenly embroiled in the second World War, this story, told from each March sister's point of view, is one of grief, love, and self-discovery.

Heartbreak Symphony by Laekan Zea Kemp: When Aarón Medrano and Mia Villanueva cross paths, Aarón sees a chance to get close to the girl he’s had a crush on for years and to finally feel connected to someone since losing his mother. Mia sees a chance to hold herself accountable by making them both face their fears. But soon they’ll realize there’s something much scarier than getting up on stage—falling in love with a broken heart.

Her Rebel Highness by Diana Ma (Daughters of the Dynasty #2): High school senior Lei unexpectedly finds love amid the student protests in Beijing in 1989, forcing her to choose between her family and its legacy or her future with a revolutionary leader.

High Spirits by Camille Gomera Tavarez: a collection of eleven interconnected short stories from the Dominican diaspora, centered on one extended family, the Beléns, across multiple generations.

Hollow Fires by Samira Ahmed: After discovering the body of 14-year-old Jawad Ali in Jackson Park, 17-year-old journalism student Safiya Mirza begins investigating his murder and ends up confronting white supremacy in her own high school.

How Maya Got Fierce by Sonia Charaipotra: When her dream of working at Fierce, a popular magazine, comes true, 17-year-old Maya Gera gets the scoop on a huge story, but wonders how long she can keep up the charade of being older than she really is

How to Date a Superhero by Cristina Fernandez: When Astrid discovers that her boyfriend is a superhero, she must learn how to survive their relationship, college life, and figuring out who she is.

How to Live Without You by Sarah Everett: 17-year-old Emmy returns home for the summer to uncover the truth behind her sister Rose’s disappearance—only to learn that Rose had many secrets, ones that have Emmy questioning herself and the sister Emmy thought she knew

How to Succeed in Witchcraft by Aislinn Brophy: Half-Black witch Shay Johnson is cast as the lead in her school musical and must decide between exposing her predatory drama teacher and getting the scholarship she desperately needs.

How You Grow Wings by Rimma Onoseta: Sisters Cheta and Zam's paths to break free of their oppressive home diverge wildly--one moves into an aunt's luxurious home and the other struggles to survive on her wits alone--and when they finally reunite, Zam realizes how far Cheta has fallen, leaving Cheta's fate in Zam's hands.

I Guess I Live Here Now by Claire Ahn: Korean-American teen Melody Lee is uprooted from her life in Manhattan and relocated to her father's villa in Seoul, plunges into a whirlwind of culture shock and family secrets as she struggles to reconcile her identity in a place she's supposed to call home.

I Rise by Marie Arnold: 14-year-old Ayo has to decide whether to take on her mother's activist role when her mom is shot by police. As she tries to find answers, Ayo looks to the wisdom of her ancestors and her Harlem community for guidance.

If You Could See the Sun by Ann Liang: Alice Sun, upon discovering she can no longer afford tuition at her elite Beijing boarding school, teams up with her academic rival Henry Li and monetizes her strange new invisibility powers by discovering and selling her wealthy classmates' most scandalous secrets.

If You Still Recognize Me by Cynthia So: Elsie has a crush on Ada, the only person in the world who truly understands her. Unfortunately, they've never met in real life. But Elsie has decided it's now or never to tell Ada how she feels. That is, until her long-lost best friend Joan walks back into her life.In a summer of repairing broken connections and building surprising new ones, Elsie realizes that she isn't nearly as alone as she thought.

In Every Generation by Kendare Blake: Follow the next generation of Scoobies and Slayers who must defeat a powerful new evil.

Inheritance: A Visual Poem by Elizabeth Acevedo: In her most famous spoken-word poem, author of the Pura Belpr-winning novel-in-verse The Poet X Elizabeth Acevedo embraces all the complexities of Black hair and Afro-Latinidad--the history, pain, pride, and powerful love of that inheritance.

The Iron Sword by Julie Kagawa: Prince Ash achieved the impossible and journeyed to the End of the World to earn a soul and keep his vow to always stand beside Queen Meghan of the Iron Fey. Now he faces even more incomprehensible odds. Their son, King Keirran of the Forgotten, is missing.

It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano: A sweet and nerdy contemporary YA novel set in the world of marching band.

The Ivory Key by Akshaya Raman: Four estranged royal siblings, each harboring secrets and conflicting agendas, must learn to work together as they search for the Ivory Key, which will lead to a new source of magic.

Just Your Local Bisexual Disaster by Andrea Mosqueda: Following a self-described romantic disaster living in the Rio Grande Valley, bisexual Chicana Maggie Gonzalez tries to figure out whom she wants to ask to be her escort at her little sister's upcoming quinceanera: her charming ex-boyfriend twice over, her first crush and gorgeous best friend, or the mysterious new girl with the romantic baggage?

The Kindred by Alechia Dow: A royal, Duke Felix Hamdi and a commoner, Joy Abara, mistakenly mind-paired at birth, land on Earth after fleeing royal assassins, only to find the "developing" planet might hold the solutions to their divided and unjust lives back home.

Kings of B’more by R. Eric Thomas: Set in Baltimore, a celebration of queer Black friendship as two boys, Harrison and Linus, plan a day of fun and facing their fears.

Kiss & Tell by Adib Khorram: On Kiss & Tell's first major tour, lead singer Hunter Drake grapples with a painful breakup with his first boyfriend, his first rebound, and the stress of what it means to be queer in the public eye.

K-Pop Revolution (K-Pop Confidential #2) by Stephan Lee: She thought that debuting in a K-pop band was the finish line, but it was only the beginning. Because now it's not only Candace Park’s company judging her--it's the entire world. How will she find the courage to stand by her beliefs, even when powerful forces are trying to shame and silence her?

Lakelore by Anna-Marie McLemore: Two non-binary teens, Bastián Silvano and Lore Garcia, are pulled into a magical world under a lake - but can they keep their worlds above water intact?

Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution by Kacen Callender: 17-year-old nurodivergent and nonbinary Lark pretends that they are the creator of a viral thread that their ex-best friend, Kasim, accidentally posted onto their Twitter account, declaring his unrequited love, but living a lie takes its toll on Lark, forcing them to deal with their own messy emotions.

The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School by Sonora Reyes: 16-year-old Mexican American Yami Flores starts Catholic school, determined to keep her brother out of trouble and keep herself closeted, but her priorities shift when Yami discovers that her openly gay classmate Bo is also annoyingly cute.

The Lies We Tell by Katie Zhao: During her freshman year at college, Anna Xu investigates the unsolved on-campus murder of her former babysitter, as she and an old rival have to team up to look into the hate crimes happening around campus.

The Loophole by Naz Kutub: Sy, a 17-year-old queer Indian-Muslim boy, travels the world for a second chance at love after a possibly magical heiress grants him three wishes.

The Lost Dreamer by Lizz Huerta: In this fantasy inspired by ancient Mesoamerica, a lineage of seers defiantly resists the shifting patriarchal state that would see them destroyed.

Love, Decoded by Jennifer Yen: In this contemporary NYC-set retelling of Emma, high school junior Gigi Wong is determined to be picked for a contest that could lead to an exclusive tech internship, but when her matchmaking app goes viral Gigi must deal with the unexpected consequences of helping her friends find love.

Love From Mecca to Medina by S.K. Ali: Adam and Zayneb embark on the Umrah, a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, in Saudi Arabia, but as one wedge after another drives them apart while they make their way through rites in the holy city, Adam and Zayneb start to wonder if their meeting was just an oddity after all.

Love Radio by Ebony LaDelle: Clever teen DJ Prince Jones, always full of love advice for his friends and classmates meets his match in Dani Ford, who is an anti-romance and would rather be preparing to be the next great novelist.

Love Times Infinity by Lane Clarke: 16-year-old Michie is busy with big dreams for college and the biggest crush on the school's new basketball superstar, Derek de la Rosa—but when her estranged mother suddenly reappears in her life, she faces important questions about the chances she's willing to take on herself and her future,

Loveboat Reunion (Loveboat #2) by Abigail Hing Wen: Sophie Ha and Xavier Yeh find themselves on a wild, nonstop Loveboat reunion, hatching a joint plan to take control of their futures. Can they succeed together or are they destined to combust?

Lulu and Milagro’s Search for Clarity by Angela Velez: Two sisters become begrudging partners on their school's cross-country field trip to college campuses as they uncover family secrets, confront weighty expectations for their futures, and discover the true meaning of sisterhood.

The Man or the Monster by Aamna Qureshi: Durkhanai Miangul sealed her lover’s fate when she sent him through a door where either a lady or a lion awaited him. But Durkhanai’s decision was only the beginning of her troubles. Her presumed-dead father comes back with a vengeance, but her family’s denial of his revenge forces Durkhanai to take matters into her own hands.

A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy Lin: Ning enters a cutthroat magical competition to find the kingdom's greatest master of the art of brewing tea, but political schemes and secrets make her goal of gaining access to royal physicians to cure her dying sister far more dangerous than she imagined.

A Venom Dark and Sweet (The Book of Tea #2) by Judy Lin: A great evil has come to the kingdom of Dàxi. The Banished Prince has returned to seize power and Ning has escorted Princess Zhen into exile. Joining them is the princess' loyal bodyguard, Ruyi, and Ning's newly healed sister, Shu. Together the four young women travel throughout the kingdom in search of allies to help oust the invaders and take back Zhen's rightful throne.

Meet Me in Mumbai by Sabina Khan: A novel in two acts, told 18 years apart; in the first, teenage mother Ayesha grapples with the decision whether to place her daughter Mira for adoption; in the second, her daughter wonders what she will find after discovering an old letter from her birth mother asking to meet in Mumbai on her 18th birthday.

Master of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #3) by Rena Barron: Arrah must decipher the legacy of her past and weave an uneasy alliance between her beloved Rudjek, the Demon King, and the remaining orishas, hoping to restore peace.

The Merciless Ones by Namina Forna: It's been 6 months since Deka freed the goddesses in the ancient kingdom of Otera and discovered who she really is. Yet hidden secrets threaten to destroy everything Deka has known. And with her own gifts changing, Deka must discover if she holds the key to saving Otera or if she might be its greatest threat.

A Million to One by Adiba Jaigirdar: An acrobat, an actress, an artist, and a thief, four girls who seemingly have nothing in common, work together and plot a heist to steal the Rubaiyat off the Titanic.

Monsters Born and Made by Tanvi Berwan: 16-year-old Korwal, from a family of sea-monster trainers, sacrifices everything to be the first of her caste to compete in a monstrous chariot race in an effort to save her sister's life.

Murder of Crows by K. Ancrum: Tig Torres investigates Hollow Falls' horrific history in this original novel based on the hit podcast Lethal Lit.

My Mechanical Romance by Alexene Farol Follmuth: High school senior Bel Maier has an aptitude for engineering and teams up with robotics team captain, Mateo Luna, but after a rough start together the nights of after-school work lead to romance.

My Sister’s Big Fat Indian Wedding by Sajni Patel: 17-year-old aspiring violinist Zurika Damani must secretly juggle the obligations of her sister's extravagant wedding week with auditions for a prominent music competition—all while trying to dodge her boisterous family's matchmaking scheme with the groom’s South African cousin Naveen—who just happens to be a cocky vocalist set on stealing Zuri’s spotlight at the scouting competition.

The New Girl by Jesse Q. Sutanto: A transfer student and scholarship recipient, sophomore Lia Setiawan is angered when she discovers a cheating ring, but by the time she finds a dead body and shuts down the campus drug dealer, she fears she might be the biggest snake in the Draycott Academy nest of vipers.

Night of the Raven, Queen of the Dove by Rati Mehrotra: After a bloody palace uprising, Katyani, a young guardswoman to the royal family, discovers she is not who she thought she was and becomes a major pawn in the political games of a monster-filled land on the brink of war.

The Noh Family by Grace K. Shim: Chloe Chang travels to Seoul to meet her deceased father's ultra-rich family, but she soon begins to wonder if her new family's intentions are pure.

Nothing Burns As Bright as You by Ashley Woodfolk: A novel-in-verse that tells the story of a tumultuous romance between two queer girls in nonlinear chapters, anchored by a single day where they set a fire and their relationship spirals out of control.

Nubia: The Awakening by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Haynes: In a climate-ravaged New York deeply divided by class, Zuberi, Uzochi, and Lencho, three teens of refugees from a fallen African utopia, begin to develop supernatural powers.

Okoye to the People by Ibi Zoboi: Okoye is a new recruit for T'Chaka's royal guard: the Dora Milaje. But when Okoye is sent on her very first mission—to America—she'll learn that her status as a Dora means nothing to New Yorkers and her expectations for the world outside of her own quickly fall apart.Caught between duty to her country and listening to her own heart, Okoye must find her own way and determine the type of Dora Milaje—and woman—she wants to be.

Once Upon a K-Prom by Kat Cho: Instead of going to prom, 17-year-old Elena Soo wants to spend her time saving the local community center, and she is determined to keep her priorities straight even when her childhood best friend Robbie Choi--who is now a K-pop superstar--returns to make good on their old pact to go to prom together.

One True Loves (Happily Ever Afters #2) by Elise Bryant: While on a post-graduation Mediterranean cruise with her family, Lenore Bennett meets a hopeless romantic with a ten-year plan who helps her find something she's been looking for--love.

Only a Monster by Vanessa Len: Set in contemporary London, in which a 16-yer-old half-monster Joan must embrace her own monstrousness to stop the boy she loves, who turns out to be a legendary monster slayer, from killing everyone she cares about.

Only On The Weekends by Dean Atta: A romantic coming-of-age novel in verse about the beautiful--and sometimes painful--fallout of pursuing the love we deserve.

Ophelia After All by Racquel Marie: 17-year-old Ophelia Rojas, well known for her rose garden and her dramatic crushes on every boy in sight, begins to question her sexuality and sense of self when she starts to fall for cute, quiet Talia Sanchez in the weeks leading up to their prom and graduation.

The Other Side of the Tracks by Charity Alyse: In the racially divided towns of Bayside and Hamilton, Zach Whitman moves in and befriends Black siblings Capri and Justin Collins, until one of their friends is murdered by police, and the longstanding feud between the towns erupts into an all-out war, with the three caught in the middle.

Our Shadows Have Claws: 15 Latin American Monster Stories edited by Yamile Mendez & Amparo Ortiz: 15 original short stories from YA superstars featuring the monsters of Latine myths and legends.

Pixels of You by Ananth Hirsh & Yuko Ota: In a near future New York City of cyber augmentation and artificial intelligence, Indira and Fawn, two competitive interns in an art gallery, work together on a photography project, turning a rivalry into a friendship and perhaps something more.

Private Label by Kelly Yang: Chinese American Serene who gets help from the new boy in town, Lian Chen, to search for her dad after her successful fashion designer mother is diagnosed with cancer.

Queen of the Tiles by Hanna Alkaf: 15-year-old Najwa Bakri is forced to investigate the mysterious death of her best friend and Scrabble Queen, Trina, a year after the fact when her Instagram comes back to life with cryptic posts and messages.

Rebel Skies by Ann Sei Lin: Kurara has never known any other life than being a servant on board the Midori, but when her party trick of making paper come to life turns out to be a power treasured across the empire, she joins a skyship and its motley crew to become a Crafter. Taught by the gruff but wise Himura, Kurara learns to hunt shikigami - wild paper spirits who are sought after by the Princess. But are these creatures just powerful slaves for the Crafters and the empire, or are they beings with their own souls - and yet another thing to be subjugated by the powerful Emperor and his Princess?

Reclaim the Stars: 17 Tales Across Realms & Space edited by Zoraida Cordova: In this collection of stories by acclaimed young adult authors the Latin American diaspora travels to places of fantasy and out into space.

The Red Palace by June Hur: Set in 1700s Joseon Korea, while investigating a series of grisly murders, 18-year-old palace nurse Hyeon navigates royal and political intrigue and becomes entangled with a young police inspector.

Required Reading for the Disenfranchised Freshman by Kristen R. Lee: Upon arriving at the prestigious Wooddale University, 17-year-old Savannah Howard comes face-to-face with microaggressions and outright racism--but if she stands up for justice, will she endanger her future?

Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters: The summer before he leaves for college, 18-year-old Isaac Martin makes big plans with his best friend Diego that only the reappearance of an old crush can derail.

Road of the Lost by Nafiza Azad: Croi is compelled by a summoning spell leave her home in the Wilde Forest and travel into the Otherworld, where the enchantment that made her into a brownie begins to break, revealing her true identity, her hidden magick, and her forgotten heritage.

The Rumor Game by Dhonielle Clayton & Sona Charaipotra: At Foxham Prep, a posh private school for Washington, D.C.'s elite, a rumor gains momentum as it collects followers on social media, pulling three girls into its path--Bryn, who wants to erase all memories of the mistake she made last summer; cheer captain Cora, who desperately wants to believe in her boyfriend's faithfulness; and shy Georgie, newly hot after a summer at fat camp and ready to reinvent herself--but who can stop a dangerous rumor once it takes on a life of its own?

Rust in the Root by Justina Ireland: It is 1937, and Laura Ann Langston lives in an America divided—between those who work the mystical arts and those who do not. In New York City, she embarks on a mission with Skylark, a powerful mage with a mysterious past, into the heart of the country’s oldest and most mysterious Blight. There, they discover the work of mages not encountered since the darkest period in America’s past, when Black mages were killed for their power—work that could threaten Laura’s and the Skylark’s lives.

Salaam, With Love by Sara Sharaf Beg: Dua struggles to find her place in her conservative family's household, but as she spends the month of Ramadan with her cousin in Queens, Dua finds herself learning more about her faith, relationships, and place in the world.

Salt and Sugar by Rebecca Carvalho: A telenovela-esque rom-com debut that follows the grandchildren of two rival Brazilian bakeries, Lari Ramires and Pedro Molina, who fall in love despite their families' feud while working to win a contest that would save both of their bakeries from being driven out by a predatory supermarket chain.

Scout’s Honor by Lily Anderson: Following a biracial Puerto Rican teen, Prudence Perry, born into a family of highly ranked Ladybird Scouts, elite monster hunters masquerading as a prim and proper ladies' social club who gave up her tea set and daggers after her best friend was killed, but now must return to the scouts to face the biggest monster of all: her past.

A Secret Princess by Margaret Stohl & Melissa De La Cruz: A romantic YA retelling-mashup of A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by bestselling authors Margaret Stohl and Melissa de la Cruz.

Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie McLemore: Three teens, Nicolás Caraveo, Daisy Fabrega, and Jay Gatsby, chase their own version of the American Dream during the Roaring 20s in this YA remix of The Great Gatsby.

Seoulmates by Susan Lee: Recently dumped high school nobody Hannah Cho must face her unresolved feelings for her childhood best friend, Jacob Kim, when he returns to their San Diego hometown as the newest K-drama heartthrob—and blackmails her into completing his summer bucket list with him.

Seton Girls by Charlene Thomas: The quarterback of Seton Academy prep school wants a state championship before his successor, Seton's first Black QB, has a chance to overshadow him, leading him to take bigger risks, and soon the team's awful secret leaks to a group of girls who suddenly have the power to change their world.

Shattered Midnight by Dhonielle Clayton: In 1920s New Orleans, 18-year-old Zora Broussard banished after an incident in Harlem, struggles with her overbearing family, magical powers, love of jazz, and forbidden romance with white pianist Philip.

She Gets the Girl by Rachel Lippincott & Alyson Derrick: Alex Blackwood is a little bit headstrong, with a dash of chaos and a whole lot of flirt. She knows how to get the girl. Keeping her on the other hand…not so much. Molly Parker has everything in her life totally in control, except for her complete awkwardness with just about anyone besides her mom. She knows she’s in love with the impossibly cool Cora Myers. She just…hasn’t actually talked to her yet.

A Show For Two by Tashie Bhuiyan: Mina’s ticket to winning a film competition falls into her lap when indie film star—and known heartbreaker—Emmitt Ramos enrolls in her high school under a secret identity to research his next role. They strike a deal to work together, and as Mina ventures across the five boroughs with Emmitt by her side, the city she grew up in starts to look different and more. With the competition deadline looming, Mina's dreams—which once seemed impenetrable—begin to crumble, and she’s forced to ask herself: Is winning worth losing everything?

The Signs and Wonders of Tuna Rashad by Natasha Deen: Following Tuna Rashad, always on the lookout for messages from her Caribbean ancestors who have passed on, as she tries to win over her crush before she leaves for college.

The Silence That Binds Us by Joanna Ho: In the year following their son's death, May Chen's parents face racist accusations of putting too much pressure on their son and causing his death by suicide, and May attempts to challenge the racism and ugly stereotypes through her writing, only to realize that she still has a lot to learn and that her actions have consequences for her family as well as herself.

Slip by Marika McCoola & Aatmaja Pandya: An emotional coming-of-age graphic novel for fans of Bloom and Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me.

Somebody That I Used to Know by Dana L. Davis: Aspiring musician Dylan Woods is forced to reunite with her ex–best friend Langston—who just happens to be the world’s biggest teen star.

Soul of the Deep (Skin of the Sea #2) by Natasha Bowen: To save those closest to her, Simi traded away everything: her freedom, her family, and the boy she loves. Now she is sworn to serve a new god, watching over the Land of the Dead at the bottom of the ocean.But when signs of demons begin to appear, it's clear there are deeper consequences of Simi's trade. With the fate of the world at stake, Simi must break her promise and team up with a scheming trickster of a god.

Spin Me Right Round by David Valdes: Luis Gonzalez just wants to go to prom with his boyfriend, but when a hit on the head knocks him back to 1985, he meets his parents' closeted classmate.

Squire by Sara Alfageeh & Nadia Shammas: Aiza has always dreamt of becoming a Knight. After she enlists in the competitive Squire program, it’s not how she imagined and she’ll have to soon choose between loyalty to her heart and heritage, or loyalty to the Empire.

Strike the Zither by Joan He: As three warring fractures try to gain control of the kingdom, orphaned Zephyr, a strategist serving Xin Ren, infiltrates an enemy camp where she encounters the enigmatic Crow, an opposing strategist who might just be her match.

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This Place is Still Beautiful by Xixi Tian: A story about first love, complicated family dynamics, and the pernicious legacy of racism, following two estranged teen sisters Annalie and Margaret who have no choice but to reunite in their small Midwestern town when their family becomes the victim of a hate crime.

This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2) by Kalynn Bayron: Briseis races to save her family even as she discovers more about their ties to ancient goddesses and deadly curses.

A Thousand Heartbeats by Kiera Cass: Princess Annika has lived a life of comfort—but no amount of luxuries can change the fact that her life isn’t her own to control. Miles away, small comforts are few and far between for Lennox. For Lennox, the idea of love is merely a distraction—nothing will stand in the way of fighting for his people. But when love, against all odds, finds them both, they are bound by its call. They can’t possibly be together—but the irresistible thrum of a thousand heartbeats won’t let them stay apart.

A Thousand Steps Into Night by Traci Chee: In the realm of Awara, where gods, monsters, and humans exist side by side, ordinary Miuko is cursed and begins to transform into a demon with a deadly touch. Embarking on a quest to turn human again, she must outfox tricksters, escape demon hunters, and negotiate with feral gods if she wants to make it home again.

Three Kisses, One Midnight by Roshani Chokshi & Evelyn Skye & Sandhya Menon: A magical Halloween story pitched as told in the tradition of LET IT SNOW, set in a town reminiscent of Stars Hollow, featuring interconnected stories about three witchy best friends and their romantic quest involving love potions (that may or may not work) and true love's kiss before the clock strikes midnight,

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#authors of color #booklr #book recs #book recommendations #yalit #IT'S MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR BABEYYY!!!#the list isn't totally done!!!#i still have to finish putting up the rest of the hyperlinks and descriptions #but wanted to get this up and posted before the year was actually over LOLOL #still going strong with the illustrated book covers trend!!!#which i personally dig tbh

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marislittlestories · 3 months ago

Text

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Mature | Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spy Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Hogwarts Eighth Year

1/10 - chapter two, three - read on ao3

june 1994 - may 1995

It’s summertime and Draco Malfoy is nearly fourteen. He clambers up the garden wall with bare feet that are already covered in little cuts and scratches, wincing at the sting and the sharp metallic scent in the air. He’s not afraid of heights in a serious way but when he makes it to the top, his head spins and his stomach drops and the soles of his feet itch.

He looks out over the woods behind the Manor. It was the first thing that Draco ever loved with any kind of intention. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up hiding away here, running through these woods, discovering its secrets.

Like the enchanted clearing deep inside, where the weather is always exactly how you want it, and the way stars are brighter when you gaze at them through heavy green canopies. When he is lonely, he retreats into the thick foliage and treads the well-worn paths. When he wants to lash out, he goes to the clearing and he screams. His first manifestations of accidental magic were flowers growing behind him as he walked aimlessly through the trees.

He doesn’t make sense anywhere else.

His father is away, leaving him to wander while his mother sleeps. He eats his meals in the kitchens, where the house elves fuss over him and load his plate with extra sweets. Twila is the oldest elf at the Manor, and the oldest person Draco has ever met.

“Just look at the state of you,” Twila says, clucking at Draco’s dirtied and bloodied feet.

Twila told him once, years ago, that he would grow calluses on his feet and it would stop hurting so much but he never really did. His skin is still soft. She cleans the wounds with gentle hands and heals them with gentle magic. It feels wilder than the spells he’s taught at school, unruly but undoubtedly good. It doesn’t obey the same rules.

“Thank you,” he hugs her small, bony frame.

She’s mostly bald, like all house elves, but her head is covered in soft peach fuzz that tickles Draco’s neck when they embrace.

“Wear some shoes next time,” she scolds, but they both know he won’t obey. He likes the feeling of earth beneath his feet, of being surrounded so wholly by a world that bursts with life. A little pain, a little blood, is worth it.

Her daughter, Odie, works in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Together, the two of them make sure that Draco never feels too alone when he’s at school. Twila sends him hand made chocolates every month and Odie never turns him away, even though students aren’t allowed. It’s like a piece of home when he’s away, though never enough to completely ease the tension between his shoulder blades. He still ends up snapping at people, saying awful things, throwing fits over every inconvenience. He still ends up by himself, at the end of each day, staring up at the canopy of his bed, wishing that he was back in his woods.

He turns fourteen at the beginning of June, on a sunny day that seems endless. His birthday always falls just before or just after the term ends. He’s been home for three days, and his father has not been home and his mother has not spoken a single word.

Twila makes a cake, dusted in sugar and topped with blazing red strawberries and cream. He eats a piece in the kitchens and another outside in the furious sun. It’s meant to rain soon. The day passes quietly. It’s his best birthday so far, and it will remain his best birthday for a long time.

His father returns home, but he’s still absent, far-away. He doesn’t speak more than a few words at a time to Draco, and he has people coming in and out of the house at all hours. Draco would never say it out loud, but they all scare him a little. The men who slip into his father’s study are tall, and imposing, and sometimes they have this look in their eyes, like nothing in the world matters to them.

His father doesn’t acknowledge his birthday until the summer is winding down, and then he presents Draco with tickets to the World Cup. In all truthfulness, Draco doesn’t care that much about Quidditch when he’s not playing it. He doesn’t understand why the competition matters if you’re not the one working for it. He likes flying. He likes being outside and he likes the way the broom becomes an extension of his own body. He likes winning, being lifted up on the shoulders of his teammates. He likes feeling like he’s done something right.

He doesn’t like his father’s posturing. He doesn’t like looking up to see a row of people who hate him, feeling unsteady boards beneath his feet. He doesn’t like sitting in the Minister’s box, too far up to see the interesting parts clearly. He doesn’t like the noise of the crowd just below. He doesn’t like the anticipation that has no use, the adrenaline that goes nowhere. He doesn’t like that all he can think about right now is Harry’s dark, wild hair and even wilder eyes, the ones that have always made him remember the bright, endless green of the forest.

Afterwards, when the game has ended and Ireland has won, Lucius guides Draco down the steps on the stadium and looks over his shoulder at something. Some of the cheers have already shifted in screams. Lucius has that look, focused and determined, that Draco has seen enough to be wary of.

“Father,” he breathes, “What’s going on?”

Lucius won’t meet his eyes, “Stay here.”

Normally, Draco wouldn’t dare argue with him, but he reaches out and grabs Lucius’s wrist.

“Please,” his voice shakes.

Lucius doesn’t look annoyed or angry. Instead, he bends down slightly to stroke Draco’s hair, a gesture he assumes is supposed to be comforting but only really feels patronizing.

“It’s alright. Nothing bad will happen to you, I swear it. Find somewhere quiet to stand. I’ll find you after.”

Draco knows that his father has been working on something. All those meetings shut up in his study, the long days spent away from the Manor, have been in service of some larger plan. He knows this is it, or at least part of it. He knew this was going to happen, and he brought Draco here without arranging a way for him to leave.

Later, when Draco looks back on this moment, he remembers the last flash of hesitation and guilt on Lucius’s face. He remembers Lucius squeezing his hand and then letting it drop.

“I love you, Draco.”

He remembers Lucius walking away, leaving him standing alone in the field. He remembers thinking, not enough. You don’t love me enough.

***

The Dark Mark stains the black, overcast sky. Draco looks up at it and feels something change in him. He has spent his whole life alone, but this night is different, this night is a deeper, hungrier kind of loneliness.

He can already feel it eating at the edges of him.

The chaos lasts for hours. His father never does find him again, and Draco is taken home by a frazzled, overworked Auror who is unduly suspicious of him, given that he is only fourteen. The sun hasn’t risen yet, hasn’t even started to edge over the woods, but he can see it coming in the color of the horizon.

Twila makes him tea. He shakes in the kitchen, and then he shakes as he climbs the stairs, and then he shakes in his bed.

Draco looks in the mirror the next morning, and he no longer looks like a child. He’s not sure when that happened. He doesn’t grieve it, not quite yet, but he will. He will grieve it desperately, fruitlessly. For now, he only understands. He understands why the Auror had turned her narrowed, accusatory eyes on him.

He looks more like his father than he ever has before.

***

Pansy finds him on the platform and drags him onto the train without saying a single word. He’s relieved and frightened in equal measure.

“Talk,” she demands as soon as they’re seated across from each other in their usual compartment.

He squirms under her gaze, “What do you want to know?”

Pansy’s got a way of making you feel like you’re a bug pinned behind glass. It’s a useful skill when she’s on your side. Right now, Draco does not feel particularly grateful.

“I know something happened at the World Cup. Something big. I hate when things happen over summer hols.”

Pansy’s dad doesn’t get the Prophet delivered. It’s a frequent topic.

“I don’t even know what happened, and I was there,” Draco says dejectedly. He hadn’t thought about that part of it, about the fact that people were going to be gossiping about it and telling outrageously hyperbolic stories about some cousin that was there or a thing their parents know.

He can’t exactly brag about getting abandoned in a field.

Pansy sighs, “Useless. I don’t know why I even bothered.”

Draco takes this as a sign that she’s going to drop it, and leans his forehead against the glass, staring out the window. They haven’t left the station yet, so all he sees are other students saying goodbye to their families. He feels like crying, which is humiliating. He can’t cry here, especially not in front of Pansy. She would never forget it, and she’d never let him forget it either.

“You must have seen something,” she needles.

“Not really. Everyone was screaming and running, and I was just standing around. A fucking Auror took me home.”

Pansy frowns at him, “Weren’t you with your parents?”

Draco looks at her incredulously. Pansy may be allergic to sentiment or serious conversations, but they’ve been friends long enough that she knows his mother hasn’t left the house in years, even if they’ve never spoken about it directly.

“I mean, your dad was there, right?”

“We got separated,” Draco shrugs, and hopes that he’s pulling off unbothered, “Like I said, it was madness. Couldn’t see anything.”

She purses her lips. It makes her look about forty, which is something he is never going to say to her out loud. There are a lot of things he doesn’t tell her, beginning with anything about what his father is up to. He’s fairly certain it’s mostly illegal, and probably not the kind that’s cool in any way.

“Someone put up the Dark Mark,” he says, because she’s going to find out eventually if everyone is talking about it, “That’s the only thing I saw.”

She reaches over to slap him upside the head, “And why didn’t you lead with that? I swear to Merlin, you are the worst friend ever. You’re going to tank my social standing if you keep going on like this.”

“I don’t think your social standing can be tanked, to be fair. Everyone’s too scared of you.”

She tilts her chin up in pride, “I suppose.”

The train begins to pull out of King’s Cross. The window is cold against his temple. Pansy begins to recount her entire summer- neither of them are very good at keeping up correspondence- in excruciating detail. Her half-brother, Aster, is ten years old and apparently very annoying. Draco doesn’t really understand the mixture of venom and honey in Pansy’s voice when she talks about him, the devotion and the disdain.

Maybe it’s because he’s an only child. Maybe it’s because his mess of feelings towards his mother and father seem infinitely more complicated, and more shallow.

“I honestly don’t know how I’ll cope next year when he’s at Hogwarts,” Pansy says, examining her fingernails, “I suspect it’ll be the worst time of my life to date.”

He shrugs, “Maybe he won’t be in Slytherin and you’ll hardly see each other.”

She looks horrified at that proposition, “Oh no. He could be in Hufflepuff!”

Draco bursts into laughter.

“This is serious,” Pansy hisses, “I’m going to have to take him under my wing, Draco. He needs to toughen up before that stupid hat gets a whiff of him.”

“Pans, he’s survived ten years being related to you. He’ll have to be the toughest first year the sorting hat’s ever seen.”

Like always, the appeal to Pansy’s pride is successful. She calms a bit. They’re discussing the costs and benefits of having a Ravenclaw for a younger sibling when Blaise slips into the compartment.

“Where have you been?” Pansy asks, narrowing her eyes. She may be angry at him, but it seems more like apprehension and curiosity. If he’s got a good story out of the last twenty minutes, he’ll be forgiven instantly.

Blaise folds himself onto the bench wordlessly.

“Pansy’s afraid Aster will be a Hufflepuff,” Draco supplies.

Blaise scoffs, “Please. He’s a halfblood, not an idiot.”

Pansy can’t decide how to take it. Blaise has never been particularly adamant about blood purity, one way or the other, but as a relatively new addition to her inner circle, she’s still a little wary of him. She’s never said any of this to Draco, of course, but he knows. Just like she knows that Draco tends to use whatever word will sting, regardless of how he really feels about it.

She knows he doesn’t think Aster is less of a wizard than she is. Unfortunately, this also means she knows he doesn’t think Hermione Granger is less of a wizard either. It’s quite embarrassing sometimes, to have someone see through his blustering. Mostly, it’s another thing that keeps him sane at school.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” Blaise complains, wrinkling his nose, “My mother’s last husband was part yeti. I’m not exactly in a position to judge.”

“I thought that was her current husband?”

He grins, “Oh, she disposed of him before I made it to Florence for the summer. This one’s a government official of some kind.”

Pansy leans forward, “How’d she do it this time?”

This is what had drawn Pansy in, really. She overheard Blaise attempting to terrify a couple first years into leaving him alone, and she was hooked. She likes nothing more than a good story, defined by the amount of blood and scandal, and Blaise’s are the best. As he tells it, in the same dry, almost reluctant tone his voice always seems to carry, Draco zones out.

He drinks in the faint warmth of the sun through the window and tries to relax. In the short few hours he’s been away from home, he’s already collected a store of tension in his shoulders and down his spine. His jaw is the worst of all, permanently clenched.

“This isn’t even the most exciting thing we could be talking about,” Blaise says slowly.

Pansy brightens, “Did you hear about the World Cup?”

He waves a hand dismissively, “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Mum’s husband, the government official, let something slip when he was drunk a few weeks ago. There’s supposed to be a tournament at Hogwarts.”

“A tournament?”

Blaise tries to suppress his smile and remain aloof, but he’s still a fourteen year old boy.

“Yes,” he pauses, “The TriWizard Tournament.”

Pansy gasps audibly. Draco, for reasons he can’t fully articulate, feels dread pooling in his stomach.

“Oh, this is going to be the best year ever.”

Blaise glances at him, noting his silence but not calling attention to it. Draco decides then that Blaise can stay, not that it was ever up to him. Pansy’s always set the rules and parameters of their friendship and he’s not about to upset the balance.

When they arrive at the castle and Pansy is temporarily distracted by a group of fifth-year girls exclaiming over her manicure, Blaise tugs on his elbow.

“You think it’s a bad idea,” he says seriously.

Draco is suddenly aware that Blaise witnessed all the gory details that Pansy delights over. He may put on a good show, cool and detached, but he’s not ignorant to the gravity of it all.

“We’ve all been going to the same school, right?” he replies quietly.

Blaise frowns, but it’s not directed towards Draco. It’s like he’s agreeing. There was a mass murderer wandering the halls just last year, and now they’re resurrecting a tradition that’s infamous for its fatalities.

“It’s like Dumbledore is inviting this shit in,” Draco shakes his head, “There’s no amount of money or glory that would make me participate.”

“Well, last time it was a simple lottery I think. You may not have a choice.”

He’s on edge when they settle at their table in the Great Hall. It’s a small miracle that Crabbe and Goyle have been partially absorbed into a group of third-year Slytherins. Pansy hates both of them, probably because they can barely string a sentence together, and Draco isn’t exactly clamoring for more time with them. He’d hung around with them because their fathers hung around Lucius. Both of them had been among the people circulating through the Manor this summer, which only makes Draco want to be friends with them less now.

Pansy taps a steady rhythm on the table with her nails, glossy and pitch black. Blaise picks at his food. The first years get sorted and Dumbledore stands up for his usual speech. Canceling quidditch for the year is an unwelcome surprise, but the three of them remain cool and disinterested when the tournament is announced. It’s a relief that the rules have been amended- one must volunteer, and anyone under seventeen is ineligible.

“Aren’t you excited?” an older girl asks Pansy.

She sniffs, “Honestly.”

The other girl deflates a little. It’s almost funny. Draco knows that Pansy has probably never looked forward to anything more. A front row to a potentially lethal competition? A slew of foreign students? She’s ecstatic.

She’d never tell anyone, of course. There are only two things she cares about more than drama: Aster and social capital. Draco suspects that the two are connected.

“Well,” Blaise drawls, “At least the year won’t be terribly boring.”

That’s when it happens. Draco glances up from the table, surveying the room before him. He isn’t looking for anyone in particular, which is strange in itself. He hasn’t so much as thought about Potter since the World Cup, too much else on his mind, but he sees Harry at just the right moment, head thrown back in careless laughter.

He sees it and he feels a pins-and-needles sensation on the soles of his feet, the same one he feels when he stands on the garden wall or climbs the trees that line his clearing, the beckoning of a dead drop. It’s a promise, he knows, of pain.

There is something burning in him. He already knows what it means to love, and to hurt, and to make his hope into something so quiet it can barely survive. He doesn’t know that this will be worse. How can he? He is only just fourteen.

***

Pansy takes two and a half days to comment on it.

“You better not be scheming without me,” she says with a withering glare, “You know you’re no good at it.”

“No scheming.”

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been staring at Potter again. I mean, you look even more deranged than last year, and that’s not exactly a low bar to clear.”

Blaise clears his throat. They’re sat around a table in the library, tucked away in a musty, forgotten corner. Still, someone could easily overhear their conversation.

Pansy lowers her voice to a whisper, “Just tell me what you’re planning. It’s likely awful.”

“I’m not planning anything.”

His traitorous face heats. Pansy’s eyebrows shoot up. Blaise notices the unusually long silence and looks up from his Charms essay.

“Holy shit,” he says brightly, “Seriously?”

Pansy reaches over to poke at his ribs, but they’re on opposite sides of the table so she doesn’t quite manage it, “You little disaster. Is that what this was the whole time?”

“You’re both dead to me,” Draco announces.

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“No,” he mutters, “It’s a recent development.”

Blaise leans into Pansy’s side with a sly smile, “It’s more interesting, isn’t it? Complex.”

Pansy gets this hungry look in her eyes, one that Draco is in constant fear of. He sends Blaise a scathing glare.

“I already have ideas,” she says, “So many.”

Draco’s face must reflect the mounting horror he feels.

Pansy cackles, “Oh, this is going to be the best year ever!”

***

The students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton arrive the day before Halloween. Everyone makes a big fuss about it, with classes ending early and the dramatic entrances and Viktor Krum among the Durmstrang students.

For some reason, Dumbledore has made the unilateral decision that the girls and boys from Durmstrang, who all look pale and slightly underfed, will be folded into Slytherin for the remainder of the school year. It’s baffling, to say the least. They’d fit in better with the brash arrogance of Gryffindor, or the studied discipline of Ravenclaw. Slytherin house is lazier, indulgent, and entirely too underhanded.

Pansy makes a few passing attempts to befriend some of the prettier girls in the group, but they don’t seem to respond to sarcasm or sly jokes. By the end of that first night, she’s given up entirely. The three of them take refuge in the library between their afternoon classes and dinner the next day, when they’d usually be capitalizing on the relatively empty dorms.

“They’re sort of… scary,” Pansy says, and Draco can’t help but gape at her.

It’s an impossible feat to get Pansy to admit she’s afraid or intimidated in any way, or at least Draco had thought it was impossible.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snaps, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

It’s grown just long enough for her to do that, and he knows it’s bothering her, but the last time she’d used a spell on her hair, it had been a traumatizing experience. She doesn’t trust anyone with her hair besides the French hairdresser she goes to in London now.

Blaise shrugs, “It’s a bit of a shock to the system, hearing you say that.”

“You think they’re scary too,” she insists.

“Sure,” Draco says carefully, “But you’re not scared of anything.”

Pansy rolls her eyes at the both of them, “I didn’t say I was scared of them. I said they’re scary. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” Blaise replies, amused.

“I guess what I mean is… there’s something unsettling about them. Unpleasant. Not because they’re awful or annoying or anything, just. You don’t like looking at them for too long, do you?”

Draco suddenly understands exactly what she means, “No. No, you don’t.”

Blaise looks like he wants to throw them off the astronomy tower, “That makes no fucking sense.”

“Like, it’s uncomfortable.”

Draco feels something, a twinge or a tide, in his chest, “It’s sad. It’s sad to look at them. They’re miserable and you can see it so clearly that you can’t help but want to look away.”

Pansy doesn’t voice her agreement, but he can see it on her face.

***

Draco fiddles with the enchantment and then presents it for Pansy’s judgment.

She giggles, “Merlin. You can’t be serious.”

The photo of Harry has morphed into an illustration, in the style of the Japanese comics that Pansy and her brother are obsessed with. His startling green eyes are huge and watery, his black curls somehow even thicker and messier, scar striking out dramatically across his forehead. He, of course, looks like an action hero, even with the cartoon blush on his cheeks.

Draco adds bright red bubble letters, spelling out THE CHAMPION OF OUR HEARTS in an arc above the illustration.

“Are you really going to wear that?” Blaise asks, appalled.

Draco scowls at him, “Of course not. It’s a joke.”

Pansy and Blaise exchange a skeptical glance. He’s definitely not going to wear it, or anything like it. He’d probably spontaneously combust the second someone saw him. For Merlin’s sake, he has a reputation to uphold, no matter how warm and floaty he feels when Harry smiles or rolls his eyes or does anything, really.

Pansy takes a crack at it. He has to explain the combination of charms to her a few times, pointing out where they overlap and intersect, and how to alter the different facets of the pin. It makes her ill-tempered for fifteen minutes or so, but once she gets it, she gleefully sets about making the buttons more and more atrocious.

First, she adds little hearts to Harry’s eyes and a large pink bow to his hair. The letters turn pink, too, and form the words GRYFFINDOR’S SWEETHEART. Another says HARRY POTTER PROTECTION COMMITTEE. Another is a clumsy rendering of Cedric and NOT MY CHAMPION. After half an hour, they’ve amassed quite the collection and have collapsed on the floor, laughing.

It’s possibly the most fun Draco’s had all year, and it’s the first time he hasn’t really worried about whether Pansy and Blaise are going to think he’s lame or too emotional. For one bright, sparkling moment, he imagines having this for the rest of school and he feels that, maybe, he isn’t going to be missing the Manor quite so much.

“What are you doing?” Crabbe’s flat, sullen voice says from behind them.

They don’t hesitate or even exchange a look before jumping into action. Blaise moves so that the buttons are obscured from vision, Pansy asks Crabbe some inane question that he surely doesn’t know the answer to, and Draco closes his eyes and concentrates. With a subtle wave of his wand, he changes all of the buttons to a uniform image of Harry’s face and the text to read ‘Potter Stinks’.

It’s hardly his most original or groundbreaking work, but he’s running on adrenaline and a tight deadline. It’ll do.

Crabbe shrugs Pansy off and peers over Blaise’s shoulder, “Oh, those are brilliant!”

They’re so distracted trying to get rid of him that they don’t realize he’d swiped a few buttons until the next day, when they’ve begun to spread through the school.

Pansy laughs in his face the first time a Hufflepuff comes up to him and asks if he has any more.

“You do realize these things don’t happen to other people?” she tries to catch her breath, “Only you, Draco. This could only happen to you.”

Shockingly, this doesn’t make him feel better.

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome,” she says cheerfully and her giggles eventually taper off.

He pouts.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

Pansy, ever the pragmatist, uses it as an opportunity to amass power. She hands out the pins to everyone who asks with the attitude of a gracious deity, too far above petty human squabbles to fully understand or care, but providing aid all the same. There’s nothing Slytherins like quite so much as a distant overlord, and with the three of them refraining from participating directly in inter-house warfare, they’ve never been so revered.

“I think,” she says, with a satisfied smile, “This leaf you’ve turned over is going to work out just fine.”

They’re lounging in the common room, under a muffling charm. It’s become commonplace for them to cast it as soon as they settle anywhere, in the Great Hall or the library or even in the dorms.

“And what leaf would that be?”

“The only person you’ve bullied since the beginning of term is Potter, and really, no one could expect you to give up that particular pastime.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says lazily.

She pats his head, “I’m saying good job!”

He pushes her off, almost toppling her from the couch. She attacks him with a shriek, digging her nails into his forearms until he surrenders.

“Okay, okay, stop,” he gasps, “You win.”

She smiles imperiously, “As always. But really, it’s much better to just act like everyone is beneath your notice. Much more dignified.”

“Well I’m glad to hear I’m not embarrassing you anymore,” he replies sarcastically.

“Yes,” she nods, “It’s been such a relief.”

***

Draco finds that he does not particularly like blood sport, especially not when it means Harry Potter facing down a dragon. He’s in the stands, Blaise and Pansy on either side of him, crushing both of their hands in his tight, unyielding grip.

Pansy glares at him a few times when he squeezes especially hard, but she doesn’t say anything or tug her hand away. Blaise doesn’t even acknowledge it.

When Harry makes it out alive, wins, Draco has to force himself to stay seated.

***

The Yule Ball is possibly the worst thing that could have happened to him. He plans to ask one of the girls in the year below them, because they won’t reject him and it’ll give them something to gossip about with their friends, but when he asks Pansy for suggestions, she just tilts her head.

“You know, you could ask…” she doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. They all know who she’s talking about.

Blaise hides a smile. Draco gapes at her.

“Absolutely not.”

Pansy shrugs, “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Draco thinks that might be even worse, but in the interest of self-preservation, he keeps his mouth shut. Pansy gets that dangerously hard look in her eyes, the look that means she’s made up her mind. He is, as always, terrified of it.

“It’s up to you,” Pansy says with a grin, “Ask him, or take me.”

He chooses the lesser of two evils. Pansy is a terror on a good day, and he has no doubt that she has some sort of plan to make his night truly miserable, but there is no way he’s asking Harry to the Yule Ball. Not only would he get instantly rejected, he’d be a laughingstock in Slytherin. Even his friendship with Pansy wouldn’t save him.

In the end, it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done. Pansy is in a merciful sort of mood, and she doesn’t step on his toes too much while they dance. She even distracts him with an argument about the Potions final while the champions enter.

He’s desperate to get home, to have two blessed weeks of quiet, but he finds that he will really miss Pansy and Blaise, in a way he’s never missed anything but home before.

***

Draco makes summer rain, falling light and warm on his face. He’ll spend all afternoon here, in his clearing, calling the sun when he’s ready and taking a nap while he finishes drying. He goes back to the Manor when the sun outside of the clearing starts to set, barely making it back in time for dinner. His father is absent. His mother makes her singular appearance of the day.

She’s distant. He tries to be gentle with her, ask her how she’s feeling, be a good son. He kisses her forehead when he’s dismissed. Her fingers twitch on the table.

This is the only kind of love that Draco has ever known, the kind he keeps choosing, the kind that keeps aching. For the first time, it’s like he can see outside of it. He can see Pansy and Blaise, all that warmth and lightness and the unshakeable, unwavering support.

He can see Harry, as he was in the Great Hall on the first night of fall term, laughing.

***

Harry Potter comes out of the maze with a dead body and a look on his face that will haunt Draco for the rest of his life. He screams and clutches at Cedric. Draco sees death, real death, for the very first time and he cannot make a sound. They are fourteen years old.

#a hand outstretched #aho chapters #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #golden trio era #drarry #drarry fanfic

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heliads · 2 years ago

Text

Where I Can't Follow

Lewis Hamilton isn't sure that he wants to retire yet, but when the rest of the world seems so sure of the opposite, it's hard not to feel his confidence shrink. In times of stress, then, is it really such a surprise that he would go to Seb for help?

masterlist

Lewis Hamilton has been thinking. About a lot, actually, but mostly about expectations. Everyone in this strange alternate shade of reality known affectionately as Formula One have started to shift their expectations for him. It started when he didn’t win a single race in all of 2022. It started when his car suddenly wasn’t crushing everyone else by leagues.

There has been an undercurrent of whispers in the paddock about whether or not Lewis will continue his contract with Mercedes at the end of the 2023 season. It was never in doubt before, or not as much in doubt as this. If there were whispers before, Lewis always made sure no one’s doubt was strong enough to influence him.

This is different, though. Lewis can feel his age in a way he never has before. He thought that time could only ever bring him maturity, knowledge, maybe even that humility people used to encourage him to develop– but he props it up with every step now. Aching bones, twisted back. He is not as young as he once was, and that is both for the best and for the worst.

Fernando was about 37 when he retired for the first time. He returned, of course, but he took a break anyway. Michael Schumacher was 37 too, also had a comeback. Sebastian– Sebastian is 35 and gone somewhere Lewis can’t seem to find him. Lewis would like to see him here again, but useless hopes don’t bring back friends or rivals or the strange sort of both that happened to him and Seb.

So where does that leave Lewis, then? On the outskirts of infirmity? This whole thing is sort of ridiculous– Lewis is 38 now, far from decrepit and elderly, yet everyone’s treating him like he’ll break a bone if he’s pushed down the stairs. Maybe that was why Fernando came back, both boredom and also the hesitance to make it seem like his best years were already behind him.

Lewis supposes he could go and talk to Fernando about the retirement dilemma, but that feels like giving up, in some weird way, so he keeps his mouth shut. There is, of course, the one person that Lewis would really like to speak with, but Sebastian is quite far away from him at the moment.

Sebastian. Of course Lewis is lying awake at night and thinking of Sebastian of all the rivals he’s had over the years. Lewis has had the pleasure and curse of meeting many a young upstart with something to prove, but for some reason Seb is the only one who’s ever stuck around in Lewis’ head long enough to make an impression.

The preference goes both ways, actually. Lewis is the only driver on the grid with Sebastian’s personal phone number, he’s the only one who can show up unannounced and expect Seb to both be there and happy to see him.

The thought of visiting Sebastian out of the blue does something strange to Lewis when it’s actually a possibility. It makes him think of one time last year when Lewis had actually taken Seb up on his offer of an open welcome instead of brushing him off.

It wasn’t as idyllic a trip as Lewis’ nostalgia for the past will let him believe. Lewis had offhandedly mentioned that he was travelling away from his place in Monaco for a bit and Sebastian had offered for him to drop by if he was in the neighbourhood. Lewis wasn’t remotely close, but something in Sebastian’s tone made him switch around a flight or two and then there they were, out on Seb’s back porch like they’d known each other from their cradles to the present day.

Sometimes, Lewis wants them to have been friends for longer, even beyond the tumultuous string tying them together before they got over themselves and started liking each other properly. Lewis lingers over photos of a teenaged Seb taped up on the refrigerator and wonders how he forgot how sharp that grin used to be, too many teeth showing for one smile and all that. The expression has softened on Sebastian now, it fits better in between the skin of his cheeks, but Lewis misses the infuriating adolescent Seb had been anyway.

They’ve known each other for decades now, but Lewis wants more. He cannot help it, the wanting is in his blood: the need to win a race, the urge to keep his career moving forward, and now, the most recent want of all, this all-consuming desire to keep Seb with him for as long as Lewis can physically manage it.

Comparing the Polaroid with the genuine article just down the hall, Lewis feels an unruly monologue crash through his head, heavy with wanting and twice as burdensome on his heart. There's a kid that you're supposed to know, I think. He was supposed to have been me. We were meant to grow up together, but if you ended up being born several countries out of reach, that can't be held against you. All the same, I’m certain that it was supposed to work out better than it did.

Then again, maybe it was for the best that Lewis had not known Sebastian as a child. Look what he did to Nico, after all; look how he fucks up the best parts of his life. Still, Lewis gets the feeling that it might have been different had Seb been the snarky boy by his side instead of the junior Rosberg. Did they not survive their rivalry? Did they not survive it all?

Sebastian comes to get him soon enough, chastising Lewis for getting caught up in someone else’s photos (if you want to stalk me, Lewis, there are enough pictures out there on the Internet already, at least have some style) and gesturing for Lewis to join him out back. Lewis watches the sun progress through the sky, and just when his guard is finally lowered, Sebastian slips a knife in between his ribs.

When Lewis first hears Sebastian form the words, he thinks it must be the start of some awful joke. I think I’m going to retire at the end of this season. He almost starts to laugh. See, this is the sort of thing Seb would have done, eyes sparking with malicious humor from underneath a Ferrari cap, maybe even a Red Bull. Lewis would have rolled his eyes and told Sebastian to stop trying to scare him like that. Maybe he would have even threatened to tell the tabloids so Sebastian would have to keep talking about it in press conferences until the beaten horse had long since died.

But they are not young men anymore, and Sebastian is no longer grinning down at him from the top step of a podium, and so Lewis knows with a glum certainty that he is not joking. The truth of it sits lodged at the base of his stomach, heavy and cold and terrible.

Seb looks over at him. “Say something.”

Lewis can’t. Sebastian sighs, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Lewis can imagine exactly how the other man must see him: stubborn, morose, an old sap unable to accept the terms of his own world grinding on without him. For once, Sebastian would be in agreement with the media, and that breaks Lewis’ heart more than he expected.

And then Seb’s face splits in a self-satisfied smirk, so goddamn Seb-like that Lewis’ throat closes up, and he tells Lewis that he’s glad of it. “That just means that you’re not sick of me yet,” Sebastian says, a touch of self-deprecating humor lancing through the words just sharp enough to startle, “and that’s good news to me, I suppose.”

Lewis had tried to argue this, meant to ask Sebastian to name one instance Lewis had been sick of him (except perhaps Baku, although they are both satisfied with that result by now) but Sebastian had interrupted him, encouraged Lewis to finish his drink before the ice melted, and so he did. After that it was easier. The necessary words did not have to be spoken to be understood.

Lewis had wondered for weeks afterwards if he should have said something after all. If Lewis had known the right thing to tell Sebastian, would it have stopped him from retiring? The rest of the visit had been more than good, but at the end, it had been an excuse for Sebastian to tell him that truth, and they both knew it. Sebastian had still left. Sure, it would have been worse to find out from that depressing Instagram post like everyone else, but Lewis feels no better off with his knowledge. It just meant he had to sit with that sadness for longer.

Lewis had not understood why Sebastian would want to leave their ring of exactly 20 glorified car jocks for a quiet afterlife, not even after last year, but he thinks he’s starting to get it now. The urge to tear down his legacy like ripping up construction paper keeps flickering through Lewis’ head. They want him gone, don’t they? They have since the start. He might as well give them a show while he’s at it, it’s what they’ve always wanted.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself reaching out to Sebastian again. Seb gave him a warning when he left, Lewis found it right to do the same. Some part of him mainly just wants someone to shake him around the shoulders and tell him to get his head in order. Seb could do that too. Sebastian can do a great many things. The hold he has on Lewis is astonishing. That would explain why Lewis spent so much time last season talking about how Sebastian would most certainly come back. He could not find it within himself to accept the loss otherwise.

I am going to destroy myself, Lewis decides in the middle of the night to an imaginary Sebastian, I am going to destroy myself and all I have created, and I want you there to see my castle burn. You do not have to put the fire out. I just want you to know that it was me who did it and not anyone else.

The warning would be right, after all. If Sebastian suspected foul play, he would never let it go, and if this retirement is truly what he wants, who is Lewis to take that from him just because he needs an ally? Of course Seb would release a statement or ten if it seemed like Lewis was under fire. He is good like that, good in a way that makes Lewis want to never let him go.

Lewis types out one text message, makes it as inconspicuous as he possibly can. Sebastian responds within the hour, a screenshot of an upcoming flight to Lewis’ location. Lewis wonders if Seb can see through him as plainly as he did with Seb last season.

And then Lewis is opening up the door to his place and Sebastian is grinning at him, making fun of his wallpaper or something gloriously simple like that, and it is like no time has passed at all. Something relaxes in Lewis’ chest, a muscle he hadn’t realized he was contracting. It’s okay. Sebastian still wants him. This. All of it. Even without the forced proximity of the track.

He pours drinks, and they idly talk about small news and whatnot before Lewis poses the question that’s been burning on his tongue, well, for months.

“How did you know, man?” Lewis asks, “How did you know it was time to leave?”

Sebastian tilts his head back, blows out a low breath. “That’s a tricky question. Why?”

Lewis studies the glass in his hand very carefully. “Just. You know. You wonder sometimes.”

Lewis can practically sense Sebastian sitting straighter, the suspicion growing. “You only wonder if you’re thinking about going. I thought you weren’t interested in that.”

Sebastian is wonderful at fighting the world. He'd spit in anyone's eye so long as it was right, and doubly so if it was wrong, too. Lewis doesn't want someone to defend his honor, though. He just wants someone to listen.

That might have been harder at the start, back when they were just a few years past the end of boyhood, but they are older now, more prone to contemplation. Sebastian kicks up his feet on a nearby ottoman (he had the grace to take his shoes off at the door, Seb has learned by now how Lewis gets about stuff like that) and he listens to Lewis’ injustices turn from a well-organized and repeated mantra to rambling complaints.

At last, when Lewis pulls quiet back over himself like a favorite piece of clothing, Sebastian purses his lips thoughtfully and carries on. “Are you going to leave, then?”

Lewis blinks in surprise. He hadn’t thought that Seb would even name that as an option, Lewis had always been so adamant about staying until his eighth world championship win at least. He supposes he had been hinting at it all this time, and of course it is what everyone else is wondering, so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that Sebastian wants to know, too.

“I don’t know, really,” he says at last, “I think I want to keep going, but that depends on who’ll have me. Contracts, you know.”

Sebastian, of all people, knows how contracts can go. Lewis still tastes a smattering of anger on his tongue whenever he passes Mattia Binotto in the paddock. Seb taps his finger against his glass like he’s summoning a dinner party to a toast, then sets the vessel down on one of Lewis’ nearby coasters. Recycled wood. He tries when he can.

“Don’t retire,” Sebastian says, “Not quite yet. It won’t be the right time.”

Lewis wants to ask if it was the right time for Sebastian, but he doesn’t know that either of them would be able to come up with an adequate answer.

Instead, he sighs, turns his head towards Seb again. “Do you miss it?”

It’s a ridiculous question, and were it asked by anyone except Lewis at this moment in this place, Sebastian would probably despise him for it. Seb knows Lewis enough to recognize the lack of condescending tone laced within the question, though, so he smiles and gives him a good answer this time.

“Parts. Some of it I’m glad to leave. Others were harder.” Sebastian pauses, then admits it, what they’ve both been wanting to hear. “I missed you most of all.”

An impatient part of Lewis makes itself heard before he can stop himself. “I’m here now, though.”

“I know,” Sebastian says softly, “I know.”

Lewis knows it too. That will make it okay when he has to leave, when they will both be pulled to their respective corners of the earth once more. At some point, he will be able to come back, and they will be the same as always. Nothing has changed. That heals Lewis more than he thought possible.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#sewis #sewis imagines #sewis oneshot #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton oneshot #sewis fics #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel imagines #sebastian vettel oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 oneshot #f1 sewis #f1 sewis imagines #f1 sewis oneshot #f1 sewis fics

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