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7-wonders · 1 year

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Give Me Everything You've Got

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x GN!Reader

Summary: After a fight, you learn that Morpheus does not have the best coping skills. Like, at all.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author's note: This is based off of a scene in Brief Lives where Morpheus dramatically stands on his balcony in the rain. Not going to say more, or else that will spoil the comics completely.

No relationship is perfect; it’s a fact as immutable as which direction the sun rises from. The first fight, though, is always a stark reminder of this. That the person you care so deeply for and have shared so much with over the past days, weeks, months isn’t perfect and has faults. The first fight, though nobody wants it to happen, will, inevitably, happen.

And your first fight with Morpheus is a bad one.

It had been three months since you and Morpheus had shared a heated first kiss in a crowded bar, three months since the man of your dreams turned out to be both real and still the man of your dreams. Those three months had been bliss, to put it simply. You looked forward to falling asleep every night, for that meant you could spend uninterrupted time with your love in his realm. He’s insanely busy, of course, being the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. Even just being in his presence, sitting on the Shores of Creation and watching as he creates new dreams and nightmares or reading in the library in your own chair and listening to him and Lucienne discuss matters related to the realm, was a gift that you don’t think you’ll ever take for granted.

But then, of course, the other shoe had to drop. The beautiful bubble of a honeymoon phase that you were living in was bound to pop, suddenly and harshly. Foolishly, you had hoped that things between you and Morpheus would always be like this, with both of you on the same page. That, of course, was nothing more than a mere pipe dream, because two people (or, one person and one eldritch being) will never be completely on the same page for every single thing.

The first time you had seen the raven, perched on the overhang of the cafe you were currently waiting for your friends outside of, you had thought nothing more than “oh, it looks like Matthew,” before going back on your merry way. After all, ravens are pretty common birds, and Matthew seemed like a pretty important raven. Surely it wasn’t him; surely he had better things to do than to trail you. It was simply just a coincidence.

Over the next week, however, you kept seeing a raven everywhere you went. When you left the store carrying bags of groceries, one was circling overhead. When you took your lunch break outside on a particularly nice afternoon, there it was, staring at you from another picnic table. When you were finally getting around to loading the dishwasher, it was sitting on your windowsill.

It was like that mental exercise when someone tells you not to think about a yellow car and then you see yellow cars everywhere. Only, you were certain that this was the same raven, and that this raven was Matthew, due to the fact that this raven tried a little too hard to act like a normal raven. As long as you weren’t directly looking at the raven, then it would just stare at you in a way that gave you the creeps. The moment that you turned to look, then it would suddenly start pecking at the ground or preening itself. Convenient. Too convenient, in your opinion.

Finally, you decide that you’re going to confront him. You go out onto your porch to water the little garden that you’re trying to cultivate, and there he is, sitting on the railing and staring right at you. As you go about your watering, he continues to just stare. Once you’ve finished, you whip your head up, fast enough that he doesn’t have time to pretend like he wasn’t watching you.

“Matthew, I know it’s you,” you say to save him the embarrassment of having to keep up the act.

Though the raven tries not to look at you, eventually he knows that the jig is up. He hops closer to you and still doesn’t look at you, but now due to the guilt he’s obviously feeling. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi. You've been following me around.” It’s not a question, because you know that he’s been doing exactly that.

Matthew looks about as sheepish as a raven can possibly look. “You caught me.”

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re stalking me?”

“Do I have to?” You glare at him to tell him that yes, he very much has to. Realizing that he has no choice, he acquiesces. “Orders from the boss man, y’know? It’s kinda what I do.”

You can feel your blood beginning to run hot in your veins from the sudden surge of anger, and you have to breathe to keep yourself from yelling. “Morpheus is making you spy on me?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying.” Matthew can sense the beginnings of a storm brewing, and quickly goes to work at trying to mitigate the impending disaster. “Just…making sure that you’re safe, that’s all! He really cares about you, and it’s tough for him to not be able to be with you whenever he wants.”

“Okay, well, you need to stop following me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can. I’m really not supposed to disobey direct orders. I already got in enough trouble for the whole business with Hell!”

Though you’re mad about the whole situation and, by extension, Matthew himself, you don’t want your feathered friend to get in trouble when he’s not the one that’s at fault. If he’s going to get in trouble for abandoning his post, then you’ll just give him a task instead that happens to take him back to the Dreaming. After all, Morpheus had told you that you could use Matthew to reach him if the need arose.

“Fine, then,” you say. “Will you go back to the Dreaming and tell Morpheus to meet me when he gets the chance? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I can do that!”

Matthew prepares to take off, but before he does, you stop him. “And, Matthew?”

“Mm?”

“Don’t come back.”

By the time the first month of dating had passed, you had both already exchanged declarations of love. It felt entirely natural, and you were both thrilled at the next step. Now, the true next step, that of disagreeing with your partner on a fundamental level, is here. You’re far less thrilled about this step.

When Morpheus appears in your living room, you’re already prepared to say what you’ve been practicing in your head since Matthew left. Morpheus has a way of making you forget words, and you’re not about to let that happen this time. Instead of giving him the chance, you jump to your feet and glare at him.

“What the fuck!” you spit. “How dare you!”

Morpheus simply watches you, as cool and collected as always, which only serves to piss you off even more.

“Matthew told me that you are…upset,” he says, “about my having him watch over you.”

You look at him in disbelief. “‘Upset’? I’m furious right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re stalking me, without my permission, through your raven!”

“It is not stalking,” he retorts.

“Really? What would you call it, then?”

Rather than answer what it is (because it is stalking), Morpheus defers to his reasoning behind his actions. “I just want to make sure that you are safe when I cannot be with you.”

In his mind, this likely makes complete sense. Of course he wants you safe, and naturally that means sending his raven to watch you at all hours of the day. Perhaps, in his eyes, this was even seen as a romantic gesture. Who this would charm, though, you’re not sure.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Morpheus. I’m an adult.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. Regardless of the immature way that you are currently acting in.”

Oh, you could hit him right now. You have to dig your nails into the palm of your hand to keep the urge at bay. “Then why did you think that you could invade my privacy in such a major way?”

“Because you are human, beloved. If something were to happen to you, if one of my enemies were to take advantage of my absence, I would never forgive myself. I cannot allow that to happen, hence, Matthew watching out for you.”

“I’m more than able to take care of myself. Especially in my own home,” you stress.

“It is for my own peace of mind.”

“Then you have him drop in every once in a while to say hi! You don’t have him playing James Bond and spying on me every minute of every day!”

It’s obvious that Morpheus doesn’t understand your anger towards him right now, and that’s probably the most frustrating thing about this whole mess. You have to close your eyes and gather your thoughts, lest you lose your cool and say something that you really regret.

When you feel just a smidge calmer, you look at Morpheus again. “I can’t deal with this right now. We physically can’t have this conversation until you can actually see why I’m so mad about this.”

His face grows stormy, and his eyes go straight from blue to black, starless pools. “You want me to leave?”

“Have you figured out why I’m mad?” He remains still, challenging you. “Then yes.”

This is just a way to call his bluff. He’s not going to leave, not in the middle of an argument. You just want him to think for a moment about his actions and their effect on you, and then you can talk like civilized adults about a little something called boundaries before making up.

His jaw clenches, as do his fists, and you realize that you may have overestimated his rationality. “Then I suppose I shall take my leave of you.”

“Wait, what?” You take a step towards him and go to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. “Morpheus!”

He’s gone before you can even feel his coat under your hand, and you’re left staring in shock at the empty space where Morpheus just stood.

You’re distraught about just how wrong your argument with Morpheus went, enough so that you don’t visit the Dreaming that night. It's not on purpose, though. Rather, you’re so upset about the whole situation that you barely sleep, and the sleep that you do get is fitful.

You’re exhausted when your alarm goes off the next morning, and find that all of the anger of last night has dissipated. Now, you’re just sad. Sad that Morpheus couldn’t understand why you were upset, sad that he didn’t stay to finish the conversation, sad that you couldn’t go after him to try and make things right between you.

You slog through your day, so noticeably sad that multiple people ask you what’s wrong. Though saying that you had a fight with your boyfriend doesn’t really begin to encapsulate everything that Morpheus is, it’s a common enough occurrence in the world that those who you share this with immediately nod in understanding and leave you to your misery.

Sleep tries to elude you for a second night, but you refuse to go any longer without seeing Morpheus. Instead, you scrounge around in your medicine cabinet for the bottle of melatonin that you know is back there. When you find it, you down as many of the artificial berry-tasting tablets that’s safe before crawling into bed and hoping that it works.

When you do finally fall asleep and open your eyes in the Dreaming, you’re immediately thrown off by the rain. No, calling it a simple rainstorm would be underselling it. A veritable hurricane has descended on the Dreaming, and you have to brace yourself against the wind somehow blowing through the palace to keep from being blown away. Rain lashes against the windows, which are rattling heavily, in rough sheets, and lightning crackles through the sky.

Growing up around storms has you instinctually looking for a basement or cellar to get to before you remember that nothing can actually harm you in your dreams. The thought doesn’t do much to settle your nerves (you’ve never been too fond of storms), but you keep repeating to yourself that it can’t harm you in some sort of frightened mantra as you make your way to the library.

The library, unfortunately, is in worse shape than the entryway, and you immediately feel a pang of sympathy for Lucienne. All of the bookshelves have been raised on individual islands via dream-magic in an attempt to save the books from the flooding that’s beginning to encroach from the doors and windows. Even so, sandbags are being piled up at the base of each island by a variety of dreams as a failsafe.

Knowing Lucienne, she probably has a backup failsafe for the failsafe.

Dressed in a rainbow parka with the hood up over his little raven head, Matthew stands atop one of the bookshelves and directs the dreams who have been tasked with helping to protect one of the Dreaming’s most precious assets. When he notices you standing awkwardly just inside the main doors, he lets out a squawk and flies to the bookshelf closest to you.

“Oh thank God you’re here,” Matthew exclaims. “This place is gonna get washed away if he keeps up at it!”

“What’s going on?” you ask, both of you flinching at a particularly loud clap of thunder.

Lucienne appears from around a corner, stomping through puddles as she steadily marches towards you in a way that makes you worry that you’re in trouble with her. She’s wearing bright yellow rain gear, and water streams off of the plastic hat in steady rivulets.

“Has Lord Morpheus explained to you that the Dreaming’s weather is tied to his emotions?” Lucienne demands to know.

Morpheus had briefly mentioned this to you once. It was a month or so into your relationship, and you remarked on how beautiful the weather always was in his realm. In the midst of a brutal winter, the reprieve was especially appreciated.

“I am glad that you think so. After all, I am the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is me.” Morpheus replied from behind you.

You were standing on the highest balcony in the palace so that you could properly take in all of the Dreaming, and Morpheus had his arms wrapped snugly around your middle so that he could pull you into his firm chest.

“So you control the weather?” you asked.

“Yes, but I do not do so consciously. It is…like how your own heart continually beats without you needing to think about it.”

At the time, you were satisfied with the explanation. Now, you’re wondering what the hell kind of autonomic nervous system Morpheus has.

“He did,” you say. “But why is the weather so bad?”

She stares at you like you’re an idiot, and you shift uncomfortably under her pointed glare. “Because you had a fight.”

You’re going to ask how she knows such a thing, but you assume it was pretty obvious to Matthew what was going to happen when you told him to have Morpheus visit you.

“It was an argument, not a fight.” Great, now you sound like your parents when you were a kid and would catch them fighting. “Is he that upset about what happened?”

You know that Morpheus is able to hold a grudge better than most. Even though you haven’t seen him, and the storm is fierce, you can tell that this isn’t caused by some petty anger; this is genuine distress, and you’re starting to think that he’s never had to deal with his emotions in a healthy way.

Lucienne nods and says, “You have only ever seen our Lord Morpheus at his best. He—well, I will not divulge that which is not mine to share, but there is a precedent behind what has led him to react in such a way.”

Good lord, what had happened in Morpheus’s past for this to be a normal reaction for him? While you’re also still a little upset over the ‘disagreement’, your hurt comes more from the fact that he left and that you were unable to finish what you had started. Furthermore, if this is normal for him, you hate to see what an abnormal reaction from him is.

Something needs to be done, and you’re going to have to be the one to do it.

“Alright, then. Do you have any idea where he is?” you ask.

Lucienne doesn’t even need to think. “In his chambers, most likely.”

You don’t believe you’ve ever had to find your way to Morpheus’s chambers without him. The hesitation must show on your face, because Matthew flies down from the bookshelf to perch on the back of a chair.

“Just think about him while you’re walking, and the Dreaming should do the rest,” he advises.

“I’m on it.” You give your friends a mock-salute before turning and heading out the door that you came through, mind focused on Morpheus the entire time.

The way that the Dreaming works is interesting. Sometimes, you need to walk a good distance to get from one place to the next. This is often true of when you trek down the Shores to visit Morpheus, or when he takes you to Fiddler’s Green. Other times, you need only blink and take a step before reaching your destination.

This is one of those times, thankfully, because the anxiety coursing through you as you worry about Morpheus and if he’s okay is making every step that you take a shaky one. You’re standing outside of the library one second, and the next, you’re staring at the large, carved wood doors that conceal Morpheus’s chambers from you.

Will the doors be bolted, like how you would lock your own when you were an angsty teenager and wanted the world to know that absolutely nobody was privy to your misery? Will he be mad when he sees you? Mad that you sought him out, that you consulted his own subjects about how best to approach this crisis?

Though you don’t mean to lean against the door as you lose yourself in your thoughts, you do, and it swings open easily. You hope that this is Morpheus’s way of letting you know that you’re welcome here, with him.

He’s not in the large sitting room that first greets you when you enter his chambers, nor is he in the bedroom that he does not sleep in. That means that there’s only one other place that he could be, so you backtrack into the sitting room and go the opposite direction from his bedroom and towards the balcony that you stood on, with him, what feels like so long ago.

There he is, leaning steadfastly against the balcony railing like some sort of Byronic hero as the rain lashes against him and the thunder and lightning create a show for the ages above him. No matter how harshly the wind blows, he refuses to move, instead taking the full brunt of the storm as he stares out into it.

It’s his own version of self-harm, you realize, and you won’t allow him this vice any longer.

You walk out onto the balcony to stand next to Morpheus and try not to get blown away by the gale force winds. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the rain, and it quickly begins to soak through your clothes; you end up turning your back on the brunt of it and directly facing Morpheus so that you can actually see him.

“I suppose Lucienne sent you my way?” In an entirely un-Morpheus move, Morpheus scoffs.

“She told me where to find you, but only because I asked.” You have to raise your voice just to be heard over the storm. “So? Why are you standing out here?”

He laughs dryly. “As if you do not know? Before today, I did not know you to be so needlessly, brutally cruel.”

Is he on drugs? You’d check his pupils, but in the Dreaming, he doesn’t have any. “What are you talking about?”

“You no longer love me!” His voice booms around you as loud as the thunder.

This is news to you, and you’re about to tell him so, but he continues before you can.

“I have transgressed against you, terribly so, and you rightfully sent me away as a result. Now, you have come to tell me that you wish never to see me again.”

To say that you’re completely thrown for a loop would be a gross understatement. “No! What gave you that idea?”

All of the fight, all of the righteous indignity, suddenly deflates out of him, and he looks at you with a defeated look reminiscent of that of a guilty puppy. “Prior experience, I suppose.”

“Oh, Morpheus.”

This is one of the saddest things that you’ve ever heard. His prior relationships involved his lovers spurning him after one little fight? Since he obviously doesn’t know how wrong this is, your heart hurts on his behalf as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek.

“I’m not going to break up with you, and I’m sorry that you’ve been in relationships where that was something that happened.”

The relief on his face is immediate. “You still love me?”

“Yes, you silly, silly anthropomorphic personification. I still love you.”

“You still love me,” he says again in disbelief.

“It was a little fight. Just because fights happen sometimes, doesn’t mean that it’s the end of our relationship.”

“I am…sorry, for invading your privacy in such a way, and further for not understanding why you were upset with me.” It’s obvious that he’s not used to apologizing for anything, but he’s trying, and that’s what matters.

“You understand why I feel the way that I do about that?” You try not to get your hopes up, but utterly fail at it.

He nods. “You feel as though I’m attempting to exert control over you, that I don’t trust you.”

He does get it! You could cheer right now. “Exactly.”

“I do,” he says earnestly, “trust you. To make you feel otherwise was never my intention. You are just so precious to me that if something were to happen to you and I was not there to help you or come to your aid, it would kill me. That fear led me to become possessive, in a way that is healthy for neither of us. For that, I sincerely apologize.”

“Thank you, Morpheus. And I’m sorry for not properly conveying my feelings before I told you to leave.” You shrug. “You’ll have to forgive me for not really understanding; this is my first supernatural relationship.”

“Your last, too, if I have it my way.”

You smile at him and push the wet strands of hair out of your eyes, which seems to alert him to the fact that it’s still storming at a cool “wrath of God” level. He immediately lifts his hand to stop the rain from coming down around you, and an invisible umbrella forms over your heads. It’s obvious that he’s not done there, and he tries to school his face into an expression cooler and more passive than that which he’s currently sporting.

“If you will give me a moment to rein in my emotions…”

“No,” you cut Morpheus off. “Don’t. I like the rain.”

Maybe not this much rain, but you won’t tell him that right now. Because right now, you can already see him trying to slip back into the role of Dream of the Endless, who takes care of everyone and everything and lets nothing affect him. He can pretend that’s the real him all that he wants, but you’re seeing firsthand how detrimental it is to Morpheus. Not Dream, but Morpheus.

And Morpheus deserves to feel emotions, regardless of if it upsets or inconveniences the citizens of the Dreaming. Morpheus deserves to have somebody take care of him for once, instead of taking care of everyone and everything around him. Morpheus deserves a hell of a lot more than he’s previously gotten, and you’re going to be the one to give it to him.

“You do?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do. And if people don’t…then, fuck ‘em!”

His lips twitch. “I’d rather not.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He thinks that joke is so funny every time he uses it, and you’re determined to not let him know that it is kind of funny.

The wind begins to slow down, and the thunder starts to grow fainter. Still, the rain continues, but it’s more tolerable now that it’s falling straight down instead of directly pelting you.

“C’mon.” You grab his hand and start to lead him back inside. “Let’s go lay down for a bit.”

Morpheus immediately begins to protest. “But–”

“Shh. Tomorrow, you can ensure that everything’s back to business as usual. Today, though, I think you’ve earned the right to feel a little sad and upset.”

Though Morpheus doesn’t seem too happy about you telling him what to do, by the time you’re sitting him down on his bed, you’re both completely dry. He watches silently as you take his starry coat off for him, followed by his heavy boots. You take your own shoes off before climbing onto the bed and settling against the pillows. When you hold your arms out to him, he simply raises an eyebrow to challenge you. In response, you wiggle your fingers and try to beckon him over to you.

He begrudgingly allows you to hold him, and kiss the top of his head and try to stifle a laugh in his soft hair. Morpheus’s body begins to relax against yours, and you smile triumphantly as you run a hand up and down his spine. After a few minutes of sitting in silence and listening to the rain against the windows (now less brutal than it was when you first arrived in the Dreaming), you realize that Morpheus is matching his breaths–that he doesn’t need–to yours. Your insides go all warm and fuzzy as a result.

When Morpheus finally feels ready to talk, he picks his head up from your chest to look at you. You smile at the sight of the stars having finally returned to his beautiful eyes, and he asks, “Is this truly how humans cope with their emotions?”

“Mhm. Cry and feel sad a bit, then pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going.” He hums when you begin to gently card your fingers through your hair, and you file this away as a form of care that you’re definitely going to use for him in the future. “If you’re lucky, you’ve got somebody right there with you to take care of you and help you weather that storm.”

“Sage advice.”

It really is. You just won’t tell him that it’s advice from a children’s show.

Morpheus nods and chooses to relax in your embrace for longer than you would have thought. Honestly, you were expecting more of a fight from him as he tried to plead his case to return to being Dream. Eventually, he does say what’s truly on his mind; he’s been getting better at that, the whole communication thing.

“I am not. Used to being taken care of.” Stating the obvious here, but what matters is that he said it.

“I know,” you say. “Which is why, in addition to the normal care that one gives their romantic partner that you’ll be receiving from me, I’m going to make up for all of what you should have been receiving for so long now.”

“Are you?” Morpheus smirks, amused at your determination.

“Yep. Why don’t we take a nap? That’s always helpful.”

Morpheus doesn’t sleep, per se; rather, he drifts, following you through your various dreamscapes and allowing himself to just be. As he’s described it to you, it’s rather relaxing to him, the same as napping is relaxing to you.

“That sounds…” Morpheus thinks for a moment. “Nice.”

“Good. Then after that, perhaps a warm bath?”

“You are just doing all of the things that make you feel better.” Though he says this, you can tell that he finds the concept intriguing.

You smile. “We’re starting from scratch with you, my love. Everything’s on the table at this point.”

“Very well. Nap first, then bath.”

With you by his side, Morpheus quickly learns how useful the human lesson of “cry and feel sad a bit, then pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going” actually is.

#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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moonstruckme · 1 year

Note

any chance you'd be willing to do disassociating!reader with sirius as a fade into you prompt?

Thanks for requesting!

join the party

cw: mentions of blood, reader is in shock/dissociates after injury-related trauma

Sirius Black x reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’ve long since stopped shaking by the time you get back to your apartment, but it still takes you a few tries to get the key in the door, your movements robotic and seeming somehow separate from you.

“Hey, you’re home late,” Sirius greets you as you walk through the door. “I was just starting to think about dinner. How would you feel about…shit.” He stops as he comes into the living room, gaze snagging on your legs, dried blood staining them from the knees down. Your shoes, which used to be white but are now a rusty brown. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not mine.”

“Okay.” He’s still standing a good few feet away, like you’re characters in a play, reciting your lines without moving. “Whose is it?”

“Macy’s.”

“Alright.” The word is meaningless, but not any more than the rest of them, you suppose. Sirius steps closer, slowly, as if wary of spooking you. “Is she okay?”

“She, uh.” You swallow. “Yeah, she’s okay. Or she will be. She fell and hit her head, but they said she’ll be okay.”

“Who said, darling?”

“The nurses. I just got back from the hospital.” You remember the ambulance ride there, the ridiculous quiet of it all. You’d thought that when someone was hurt that bad, hospitals were all beeping and yelling and people running around. But they’d only asked Macy questions in calm, measured voices, no beeping or alarms to be heard. What did you have to eat today? Do you know why you fell?

“Sweetheart.” Sirius looks gutted, and you don’t know why he’s using that tone with you. You’re not the one who cracked your head open. “You should have called me, lovely. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“You were at work.” It’s simple, a fact. “Anyway, there was nothing you could do.”

Sirius takes your face in his hand, and it feels like he’s touching someone else, your skin waxy and foreign. “I would have left work to be there with you. It sounds like it was an awful thing to have to deal with by yourself.”

You guess it probably was. You’d had to put pressure on Macy’s head until the paramedics got there, kneeling in a pool of her blood as it seeped from the wound and time seemed sluggish and unreal. You know, objectively, that it was one of the more awful experiences you’ve had, and you’ll probably be dreaming about it for years. But it doesn’t feel that way right now. Nothing feels any sort of way right now.

“How long were you at the hospital for?” Sirius asks. “When did this happen?”

You don’t know. It was…the sun was still out, when she fell on the sidewalk. But the length of time you were sitting there with her, or the time in the ambulance, is all stretched out and murky. You know you got back to your car and drove home, but you can’t recall any part of the journey. You leave that last bit out of what you tell Sirius, but his frown deepens anyway.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh? Here, let me take those off.”

He bends over, untying your shoes for you, and you watch as dried blood flakes off the laces where they bend unwillingly. Sirius doesn’t comment on it, slipping your shoes off one after the other and setting them by the door. His hands are delicate about your shoulders as he steers you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet. You’re distantly cognizant of him moving about, opening and closing a cabinet and turning on the faucet, but it’s not until he crouches in front of you that he enters your awareness again.

Sirius takes your ankle in his hand and begins just below your knee, rubbing a warm, wet washcloth over the blood staining the skin there. He’s talking, still, in a low voice, but the murmurings don’t seem to have much importance other than placation. It’s more ambient noise than anything else. He works the washcloth down your leg, the rough fabric scrubbing gently at your skin. He presses harder in some areas where the blood is stubborn, and that’s where you feel it most. The beginnings of real sensation, connected to you rather than some shell that you occupy and that moves when you tell it to.

By the time he starts on your other leg you feel as though you’ve been thinking through a dense fog that’s beginning to lift; you’re able to feel the warm droplets of water running down your calf and make out some of the quiet words spewing from your boyfriend’s mouth. He finishes with your legs, and you hold up your hands, now trembling again. The blood there is cracked around the lines of your palm, and Sirius takes your hand in his, wiping it away gently. You can feel the cloth even more there, where it brushes against your sensitive fingertips. You can tell now that Sirius is telling you stories, various anecdotes of when he or his friends had gotten hurt.

“It’s scary to see someone you care about in pain,” he goes on at a murmur. “Even when you know they’ll be alright, I think it hurts worse than when we’re in pain ourselves.”

A tear dribbles down your cheek, landing with a splat on your thigh, and Sirius looks up, surprise morphing into heartbreak when he sees your expression. He drops the cloth on the floor, rising to an awkward height so that you can put your head against his shoulder when his arms come around you.

“I know, baby.” His voice sounds almost fragile, as though he’s feeling this as acutely as you are. “I’m so sorry you went through that. Are you feeling a little more like yourself?”

“Yeah,” you sniff. Your tears are still coming slowly, and you know the majority of your panic is still buried somewhere safe inside of you, but this is enough for now. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Sirius pulls back, thumbing away your tears as he studies your face, eyebrows set close together in concern. “I think you’re in shock, sweetness. It makes sense, that’s a lot for anyone to have to see.” He strokes at your hairline, just beside your eye. “Do you want to talk about it? If not, we don’t have to. We can just watch a movie or something, try to forget about it for tonight.”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the voice inside yourself that usually tells you who you are, what you want. It’s still quiet, but you think that’s answer enough. “The second one, please. I don’t think I’m ready to think about it yet.”

“Alright, whatever you want.” Sirius nods, rising and offering you his hands to help pull you up. You take them, and he presses a kiss to your forehead as soon as you’re standing. “Whenever you feel ready, lovely, I’ll be here.”

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alexging · 9 months

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dating sean diaz hcs pt 2

- before esteban fixed up a car for sean, u guys would always take the public bus around seattle

- his favorite dates r the ones where u guys go into random small stores and thrift shops

- both of u guys cackle REALLY LOUD at tacky shirts with stupid sayings and get looks from people 😭

- ur fav thing is to go “i found something ud like” and watch sean look up from the racks in excitement to see an overly patriotic shirt that says “don’t touch my truck”

- his face drops into a frown and he picks out something 10x uglier and say it looks like something ud wear

- sean secretly buys what u say is cute but u cant afford bc thrifting is so expensive for no reason these days

- “guess what i got” and he slithers it out of his bag with an evil smile 😭 suddenly him dissing u for an hour straight doesnt even matter anymore

- once esteban texts sean for dinner u guys hop on the bus back home. he never asks sean to come home for dinner alone though! common courtesy to invite the gf

- sharing wired earbuds on the bus ride home always. sean plays little love songs bc he only listens to music that he relates to in that specific moment 😭 corny but cute. he def has songs in his head that he thinks are ur guys’ songs and plays them every chance he gets

- when u first started eating with the diaz family it was so painfully awkward

- though he kind of likes it now, he did not want his girlfriend to get to know esteban or daniel too well LMAO he didnt want to be embarrassed by anything they possibly could say

- still, even when he tried so hard to avoid it, daniel and esteban still found their ways

- estebans the kind of dad to bring up embarrassing stories about sean when he was a kid bc he KNOWS how much his son would hate it

- “y’know (y/n), im surprised seanie boy over here even managed to get a girlfriend in the first place”

- “why is that, mr. diaz?”

- “i remember he thought girls couldn’t poop until he was in middle school! i had to break the news for him—he was in denial for weeks. his voice was shaking when i told him and everything!” u can see sean pause mid-chew in the corner of his eye 😭 “and please, call me esteban”

- you just awkwardly nodded and tried to not bust out laughing. sean notices and kicks u under the table which makes u ACTUALLY bust out laughing

- esteban and daniel knew from there u were one to be trusted

- “i bet (y/n) doesn’t poop” daniel randomly said when u left that night. seans immediately swiveled his head around 😭

- just like with lyla, daniel seemed to have a crush on u as well. the only difference is that sean tries to shut it down REALLY quick.

- “she shits all the time. sometimes i wipe her ass for her bc she shits so much”

- daniel’s “eww…” is like music to his ears

- u always playfully punch him when he does this in front of u and ask why he makes u look bad in front of him

- sean never admits its bc hes jealous of a little kid 😭 he just changes the subject and kisses u bc he thinks hes sneaky

- over the summer he randomly got a buzz and didnt say anything to anybody

- he just opened his front door standing there bald as if nothing happened and ur eyes wld just kind of widen

- u wld eventually tell him it looks good tho bc it DOES he pulls it off so well

- that summer u wld always randomly start feeling his head because the texture is so interesting

- it got to the point where hed just sit on the floor in front of wherever u were so ud get to feel his freshly mowed head

- he always ends up dozing off bc its so comforting and u wld feel his head pressed on ur inner leg.

- u also get the privilege of cutting/buzzing his hair 😋

- sean doesnt trust himself so u guys sit for 40 mins watching a brad mondo video before u start going ape on his hair

- he gets kind of nervous when u get close to his face and does that thing where u switch between a persons right eye and left eye while smiling awkwardly 😭

- surprisingly it turns out good!

- i feel like ud be super nit-picky on ur work, thinking its total ass. he wld just say its perfect over and over again

- he always stares at any reflective surface and smiles like a dork in front of it. even if u did do a shit job, he probably wouldnt notice or care all that much bc he loves blindly ❤️

im on winter break so i get to be cringe and free for endless hours thank u to like the 3 other people who also like sean diaz. u r all real ones

#life is strange 2 #sean diaz x reader #sean diaz #daniel diaz #sean diaz hcs

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dpr-stay · 1 year

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Cupid | LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, reader is a press officer, don't think gender is stated specifically, implied sexual content, second chance romance, she is not edited, zhou guanyu does not crash, and there are swears.

WC: ~7.7k (kill me now)

I literally hate this, im so sorry. I haven't edited it because it's late but I hope it's not bad. I'll edit it tomorrow. also how is it so longgg, it was supposed to be 5k at best. (why have i written two fics about exes having dinner?)

Being Valtteri Bottas’ PR Agent was a wild ride. From being hired by him in his early days at Williams, to his successful years at Mercedes, and now at Alfa Romeo, you’d gotten to know the man through all stages of his career. You’d been there to field off questions about his declining performance at Mercedes and had been the first one to slam open the door and start yelling at him after the ‘cheated-on-his-wife’ rumours started floating around.

However, the paycheck was good and, when he wasn’t causing you to spend many nights in meetings about his public image, you didn’t mind the guy, happy to have to follow him around the world for most of the year.

The whole Formula One thing was also a bonus, you having been hooked on the sport after your Dad introduced it to you at an early age. You’d spent countless hours watching your dad watch the car’s speed by on his tv set, finally deciding to pay attention to the race after a few years. And boy, did you love it.

You’d spent many an early birthday present forcing your parents to take you to the Grand Prix nearest to you, saving up for months to be able to afford the tickets and the travel. Something about the sport just intrigued pre-teen you, nothing to do with Michael Schumacher at all.

So, when the chance to be a F1 driver’s personal PR agent had landed on your advertisement agency’s desk, the place you had worked in the early days of your career, you had snatched it up quickly. The work started well before the start of the 2013 season, you having to meet the man himself and quickly getting adjusted to the many people you’d need to know to network for the guy.

You’d also met Maldonado’s PR agent, one from the Williams team, who quickly brought up the ideas of doing interviews and press releases between the two drivers. You were swept into the world of the sport, beginning to get into the swing of things.

Years passed, as did teammates, and Valtteri got signed to Mercedes alongside Lewis Hamilton. You didn’t know if your employment would carry over to Mercedes, but a team shirt and a letter letting you know about when Valtteri’s responsibilities started being mailed to your house confirmed it pretty quickly.

The atmosphere at Mercedes was more professional, though the team still treated each other as family. You’d often see engineers leaving together, going to go get drunk and celebrate Lewis’ common wins and Valtteri’s less common, but still happening, wins.

You’d often spend hours at a time bargaining for spots for Valtteri in interviews and in PR related spots, and it worked. He was a well-known man, your job was practically done. The bosses were (finally) appeased, Valtteri was happy, and you could finally relax after years straight of stressing about social media and whatever the hell a vine was and if that was still relevant.

And then you’d gone and got yourself trapped in an elevator with Lewis Hamilton.

Being a Mercedes employee, though only temporary, you’d met Lewis often during interviews and team meetings. However, you never really know a person until you spend five hours sitting opposite each other in a broken-down elevator, only being able to see each other by the light of your phone's flashlight, waiting for some sort of help as there was no signal.

Your conversation had started off hesitantly, you incredibly intimidated by the several-time world champion and him having a fleeting idea of who you were. The conversation had eventually fizzled out till the lift jolted, and a creaking sound echoed into the cavern of the contraption.

Your telling groan that you couldn’t hold back elicited a concerned “You alright?” from Lewis and then you eventually had to tell the professional F1 driver, who raced cars at over 200km/h every other weekend, about your fear of small spaces.

He hadn’t judged you for it, something which you thought was rather nice, and had even tried to adjust for you, moving to the very other side of the small box. Granted, your feet still touched, but you thought the sentiment was nice.

He was more down to earth than you expected, you knew he wasn’t a prick but you weren’t expecting him to be… kind. Soon enough, after a few more questions about why you were afraid of small spaces and other questions, you both had spiraled into boundless conversation.

You had talked about things you’d never talked about with someone, let alone a practical stranger, his soothing accent making it easier to open up to him. Things like the future and where it would take you, uncertainties about both your careers, even relationships, the type of conversations you only have trapped in a suspended metal box in the dark.

Lewis was a fantastic person to talk to. He’d listen when he needed to and returned your conversation with equal energy, as though he actually wanted to be part of the conversation. For some reason he had decided to trust you and had talked freely to you, showing you a side that you doubted many people had seen.

Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t see your face or maybe you just gave off a trustworthy vibe. You didn’t know. All you knew was that, all of a sudden, you were one of Lewis Hamilton’s most trusted confidants.

Even after someone had finally realised you were missing and exactly where you were, calling more firemen than necessary to bust open the lift though you supposed that’s what you were supposed to do when a ‘Sir’ was trapped in an elevator, Lewis had asked for your phone number and had continued to text you.

You’d met up a few times over the season, quickly becoming incredibly close friends who told each other everything. You’d had to deal with a few teases from Valtteri, who’d shut up when you reminded him who controlled the public’s opinion of him.

During the off-season Lewis had invited you to come to his house for dinner. You’d went, it was lovely, and then you’d unknowingly experienced the moment of truth in your weird friendship/developing relationship.

You’d been sitting at Lewis’s dinner table, eagerly chatting to the man about your family, leaning in closer and closer until the both of you were nearly leaning over the table. He’d cooked for you, an act you found incredibly sweet for the multi-millionaire who probably had ten private chefs on speed-dial, and you’d spent the evening wining and dining.

You had both finished your main courses, talking about everything and anything when a loud bang had come from the upstairs of the man’s house. He glossed right over it, ignoring the loud sound. You had been about to comment on it but, at his nonchalance, you deigned not to.

The conversation had continued, you both moving from his table to the couch he owned, which probably cost more than your salary earned you, when another loud sound, which sounded suspiciously like a bark, reverberated through his open-plan house.

He sighed loudly at your questioning look, deciding that he couldn’t ignore it this time. He opened his mouth to speak but, before he could utter a syllable, the tapping of claws sounded against the stairs located, conveniently, in view of his living room.

You looked up and there stood one of the largest Bulldogs you had ever seen. It was almost majestic, the way that he stood there on the steps, panting as though he’d just run a race. His brown coat was shining in the twilight glow, his muzzle a white colour in comparison to the rest of his body.

He took a few steps down the stairs, tripping on one before regaining his posture. You could only watch in wonder, mouth agape, as the beautiful beast padded down the steps and took a turn, approaching you head on.

The dog was a thing of beauty, his droopy face conveying no discernable emotion except from being tired. He slowly made his way to the couch, you doing nothing but watching as he trotted along the hardwood floors. You didn’t catch Lewis staring at you warily as you were only focused on the thing that younger you would’ve fought a clan of savage chipmunks in order to have.

The dog eventually made his way in front of you, plopping his behind down on the carpet and staring up at you questioningly. You didn’t know what emotion your face was conveying, you only knew it was very silent.

You cautiously reached a hand down to rub between his ears. After a second of your rubbing he made a gruff ‘woof’ sound and you couldn’t help it, an entranced whine releasing from your throat. Collapsing onto the floor beside the dog, you forgot about Lewis, focusing completely on the magnificent specimen of a dog.

Roscoe, as you’d soon come to know via a fond Lewis, took to you as soon as you took to him. Within a minute the dog was letting you handle him as much as you’d like, rolling over on his back to let you get his stomach and vigorously licking your arm as you pet him. Praises spilled from your lips abound, making sure to let the bulldog know just how much of a good boy he was.

At a cough you turned from your spot on the floor to face Lewis, the radiant grin he had on his face making you feel as though you’d passed a test of sorts. Roscoe also turned to look at Lewis before turning back to you and huffing.

He moved forward, stepping on your legs, trying to sit on you, before falling off the slope onto the carpet. You then picked him up and cuddled him, trying to keep eye-contact with Lewis as you did so. Lewis’ eyes had turned into half moons as he watched you love on his dog, his smile consuming his face.

“I’m glad he likes you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he didn’t.” He admitted, placing his drink on a wooden table that stood beside the couch. He then slowly slid from the couch onto the floor beside you, leaning his body down till he was face-to-face with Roscoe and gave the dog a kiss.

“He’s got good taste.” You commented and Lewis released a laugh, glancing up at you.

“Me or the dog?” He asked after a second and you paused, overdramatically placing a finger on your chin and tilting your head as though you were thinking. You then shrugged and he laughed again, you not missing the incredibly familiar twinkle in his eye as he looked at you.

After that, you’d found that Lewis was a lot more eager to meet at his house. Roscoe, accompanied by the sheepish man, was bowling you over nearly every time the door was opened to you. Lewis had also made the trip to your house, though you doubted he’d seen a house as small as yours within the last ten years. He seemed to like it though, settling in quickly and even staying there when you were at work. The off-season had continued like that, casually building your relationship between his training and your many meetings with Alfa Romeo, trying to settle the discussions about your contract after Valtteri’s move.

You’d finally gotten somewhere just before the season started after having to plead to not be replaced by an inside hire, Valtteri backing you up and stating he wouldn’t race without you. Alfa Romeo had accepted and then you finally had the contract you’d wanted.

You’d left the meeting, Valtteri in tow, before turning around and hugging the man for having your back before you both said goodbye and made your way home and to the gym respectively.

The uber ride you’d hired was peaceful, the man staring straight ahead as you looked out the window, your small apartment building coming into your view. You smiled as you saw it, thinking of the Lewis you’d left in bed that morning, having to pull yourself out before him to go to your meeting.

The climb up the steps (the elevator didn’t work which Lewis hadn’t complained about when you’d explained it in embarrassment) had seemed to take forever no matter how fast you climbed. When you’d finally made it to your floor, you had to practically drag yourself across the hallway to your door, unlocking it with force after the lock had gotten stuck.

Immediately you could tell something was off, the place seemed colder than that morning and it didn;t have to do with the fact the thermostat had broken a few months ago. All the lights were off and there was no noise coming from within, a telltale sign that Lewis was somewhere within whether he was listening to music or talking to someone.

That was ok, though, he might’ve been at a meeting like the one you’d had, though you doubted there would be less than 7 zero’s on his contract. But that’s the difference between a big team and Alfa Romeo, you work with what you get.

You looked to the side table, placing your keys in the bowl, noticing the absence of Lewis’ keys. But that made sense if he was at a training session or a meeting, so you continued into the apartment, losing components of your outerwear as you went.

You’d lost your scarf and blazer as you’d made your way to your bedroom, prepared to change from your business outfit into one of Lewis’ many shirts when you opened your closet. A quick rummage and you couldn’t find any. Weird.

You checked again before moving to another part of your closet and noting the lack of his hoodies or jumpers, which was even weirder as you’d stolen a few of them last week. You turned and moved to your dresser, an old antique wooden piece you’d picked up from an op-shop a few years ago after seeing it and falling in love.

You’d opened your drawer specifically for pajamas and found everything you’d acquired through your time of living independently but Lewis’ shirts. Moving to the many drawers Lewis used specifically when he’d stay over, a small inkling of panic settled in your stomach however you ignored it and opened the drawer.

Nothing. There was nothing left in the drawer. You quickly opened all his other drawers, almost pulling them out of the dresser with the force you were applying. All of them were empty. This caused the inkling to grow to an uneasy pool. Maybe he’d taken them to wash them at his place?

You stepped back from the dressers, incredibly confused and vehemently denying the growing panic in you. You walked, not ran, into your bathroom. The lonely toothbrush sitting on the counter sent a strange feeling, almost like adrenaline, rushing through you. Opening the cupboards under the counter you noted the loss of his extra face wipes and the moisturizers he insisted on using.

You ran to your kitchen, not seeing anything off, before slamming into the back of the couch in your open plan apartment in your haste to get into the living room. The action caused pain to ring through your shins but you barely registered it, the missing cd’s that normally sat on the table your tv was balancing on that he had insisted were better than Spotify the only thing you were focused on.

A quick look down the hallway to the door of your apartment only furthered your dread, noticing details you hadn’t seen before. The missing stack of shoes that he normally toed-off at the door and the missing extra wallet he left on the side table in case someone broke in almost confirmed your fears.

But what really set in the fact that he’d packed up and left was the missing leash that normally hung from a hook you’d installed specifically on the back of your front door. The inscribed ‘Roscoe’ on the hook seemed almost mocking from your place on the couch, but you couldn’t really acknowledge it, the tears filling your eyes blurring your vision.

You stood up from the couch and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the open drawers shut, not hearing the splintering of the vintage wood. You picked up your phone from your bed that you’d tossed earlier in your haste to become relaxed, and opened your messages.

He hadn’t sent anything to you explaining his leaving and when you went to send a text (‘??? Where are you’) the message that you’d been blocked popped up at the bottom of the screen. You could only stare at the screen for a second, the implications of what he’d done sending emotional shockwaves through you.

You barked out a sardonic laugh, your hand flopping from its position in front of you to be held uselessly at your side, your phone slipping from your grasp onto the floor. The world went still for a moment before you lifted a hand to cover your vision, the tears slipping from your eyes wetting your hand.

You sat alone on your bed that had, not even 24 hours ago, contained what you had thought was your future. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at this point, the grief for something that was evidently never meant to be controlling your thoughts. A long deep sigh left you before it was interrupted by a sob. And then another sob.

You ended up falling asleep alone that night, still dressed in the smart pants and white shirt you’d worn to your meeting. Your only lullaby was your sobbing, not the sound of his gentle humming, something which you kept reminding yourself of.

Valtteri had commented that you’d seemed sad the next time he’d seen you but neither of you had addressed it past that, him knowing when to keep his mouth shut. He especially knew to shut up after the intense glare you had fixed him.

The season had started again and, while you were prepared for your duties as a PR agent, Valtteri’s full calendar being proof enough for that, you weren’t sure you were prepared to see Lewis again. Especially after the news that he was already seeing someone else had come out a week before the first race.

You’d returned Valtteri’s knowing glance with as much strength as you could muster and promptly ignored his further pitying look, choosing to feel sorry for yourself at home that night. You’d also ignored his attempts to try to get you to talk to Tiffany, you liked the woman but you didn’t think you should burden her with your ridiculous, because that’s what it was looking back, delusions that you could’ve been something more than just a summer fling to Lewis Hamilton.

You’d successfully managed to avoid Lewis the whole first couple of races, eventually beginning to see fleeting glances of him throughout the paddock. Seeing him for the first time with his partner had hurt but, looking at her, you couldn’t exactly blame him.

She was gorgeous and, after you’d done a bit of searching, was exactly his previous type. She was wealthy and had a respectable job, someone worthy of being with him. You’d made sure to avoid him after that.

You kept on at work though, determined to be the best goddamn PR Agent Alfa Romeo had ever seen. And you were succeeding. Valtteri was getting brand deals and after more positive press around him and his dedication to the sport regardless of his company, you were finally able to relax.

And by relaxing, you meant getting wasted at a bar. In fairness, last time you’d relaxed you’d ended up more broken hearted than you’d ever been, so releasing some steam at a bar had seemed an appropriate route.

And it was, being able to drink away your sorrows and spill your guts out to a bartender in a small rundown pub in the middle of Canada was the perfect way to unwind. You hadn’t told the whole story of course, you resented the guy for what he did to you but you didn’t want to tarnish his reputation, but it was nice to tell it to some random person who probably didn’t even understand the way you were switching between Swedish, English, and Finnish.

You’d woken up the next morning with a heavy weight off your shoulders and a nice Canadian man in your hotel bed, sending him off with a promise to call before promptly adding his phone number to your phone. Valtteri could tell something had changed when you’d walked into his driver’s room the next day, prepared to tell him about his schedule. You greeted his questioning look with a smirk and he shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face.

You’d found that you hadn’t thought about Lewis the whole day, when you’d settled into your hotel bed the night after the race. A warm feeling had spread through you at that, the knowledge that the man no longer consumed your thoughts making you feel good inside.

The next race weekend you were ready to go, the British GP making you pumped. You weren’t so pumped when Valtteri DNF’ed and were mentally preparing answers for the Finn as the race continued, briefing him on every response you could think of in relation to the gearbox issue. Zhou Guanyu did well in his race though, so the garage was quite excited for him, even though Valtteri hadn’t finished.

When the interviews had rolled around after all of the celebrations, you were following Valtteri on the walk to his first interview, eventually stopping to the side of him as a mic was held in front of him and the cameras had started rolling.

Typical questions such as if he was happy for his teammate and if he was happy with the car were asked, some weirder questions such as if he thought the car’s not-working had to do with some obscure political issue before eventually the interview was wrapped up and the Finn moved on to his next interview, you following him.

You could see other drivers beginning to arrive in the area, being interviewed before you quickly looked away, not wanting to see if he was close. You’d managed to avoid him thus far today, how hard could a few more hours be?

You’d thought that before you heard the faint but tell-tale bark of Roscoe and you had to force yourself not to turn around and run to the dog. Lewis had mentioned bringing the dog to his home race at some point while you were together, so you weren’t exactly surprised at Roscoe’s presence.

Valtteri’s interview was continuing in the background of your mind as you thought over the nights you’d spent cuddled with Roscoe and Lewis. Did you miss him or Lewis more? Did Lewis even miss you?

Valtteri nudged you in the side, his eyes wide and you snapped back to reality, staring at the interviewer.

“Pardon?” You asked, politely trying to make it seem as though you just hadn’t heard them and were paying attention.

“I just asked if Valtteri preferred Mercedes or Alfa Romeo.” The interviewer filled in and you turned to Valtteri, a questioning look on your face. Surely he could handle that question? He vehemently shook his head. Alrighty then.

You brought out both your hands in front of you, prepared to gesture out an answer for Valtteri to say. But before you could a large force had pounded into your back, knocking you to the floor and landing on top of you. The weight was heavy but it was warm and… was it licking you? “Roscoe! Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A voice came from behind you.

Oh no.

While you had been mentally preparing an answer for Valtteri, Lewis had been walking around the media area, Roscoe in tow on a leash. The dog had been restless ever since he’d entered the pen, Lewis echoing that sentiment as he saw a brief glimpse of you. He wanted nothing more than to run to you but he couldn’t with media responsibilities weighing him down.

Eventually the interviewer’s fill of Roscoe was full and he was able to do a little bit of wandering around the area. Lewis had handed the leash of the now-agitated Roscoe to Angela as he went to go answer some more questions, the press incredibly curious about the dynamics of the car.

Angela, bless her soul, had tried her best to wrangle the dog, but his continuous pulling and barking was beginning to annoy some of the media. Seeing this, Angela had decided to just let the dog pull her away, Roscoe almost dragging her as he went.

He had pulled her almost completely across the room before he got too violent and managed to rip the leash from her hands, leaving Angela stumbling in the dust as he began to run. Lewis had watched this happen, and continued to watch in horror as Roscoe ran up behind you.

One gigantic leap and you were pushed to the floor, the big bulldog nuzzling into your neck. The world seemed to almost go quiet before Angela ran over, trying to grab the collar of the rabid dog, asking if you were ok.

Lewis had started to move over, dismissing the reporter who he was talking to as he made his way to his dog and his ex-lover. He saw you roll over on the floor, a small sad smile on your face as the dog began slobbering over you. A few more steps and he was in front of you, scolding Roscoe and apologising as he effortlessly grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back.

You tried not to look in his eyes, knowing all your effort of trying to get over him would be null if you saw his face. You ignored the hand he extended, instead smoothing down your clothes as you sat on the floor, only pulling yourself up when he awkwardly lowered his hand, framing it as if you just didn’t see.

He knew though, he’d developed the unfortunate skill of reading you.

You didn’t look at him as you assured him you were fine and that he should continue with his interviews, only sparing a glance at Angela who looked at you with a regretful hint in her eyes. You didn’t want to think about that more than you had to, waving them off to more interviews.

You turned around before you could see Lewis leave, thankfully not seeing the longing he had displayed over his face as he turned away, back to his interviews.

Would you have been able to hold it together if you’d seen the look he’d shot you? No. Were you when you watched it back after the weekend? Also no.

You turned back to Valtteri, cracking a quick joke, before he got back to his interviews. You spent the rest of that day picking gravel out of your palms, trying to forget about the whole interaction. You wouldn’t let this break your progress, the handsome Canadian man in your contacts getting a ring that night as you tried to distract yourself.

After a few days of you cursing Roscoe for trying to see you while also feeling as though you should arrange some sort of custody agreement so you could see the beautiful beast, a notification had popped up on your phone. It was a recommended tweet, a news article about how Lewis had apparently split from his “new fling”.

That sent you spiraling, questioning why on earth the algorithm had thought to show you this and wondering what you’d done wrong in your past life in order for this to be what was happening to you.

You’d only become more confused a day later, when Angela had sent you an email, saying that Lewis would like to meet up and apologise because of the media backlash. The thing was you’d seen no media backlash, people just finding the dog's enthusiasm funny.

If there was any sort of trouble, you’d have seen it, it was your job after all, so you were left sitting on your couch, pondering what was the point of the meeting she was trying to set up.

You’d aired the email for a few days, wondering what you should do. You wanted to say yes, to talk to Lewis again and ask him what had happened, but you didn’t want to get hurt again. And you knew you’d be hurt when you saw him doing perfectly fine without you.

The fact that Angela was waiting for you to respond didn’t cross your mind till you received a text from an unknown number, politely asking you to respond. The older woman had waited till she knew you’d read the text, about five minutes, before sending a more desperate text. That had your eyebrows raising unwillingly, confused about why she had sent three “please”’s in one paragraph.

Regardless you fell victim to knowing how hard it was to try and manage a driver's personal and professional commitments and said yes. Only because you felt bad for Angela was what you kept telling yourself.

Eventually the day had come and you were dreading it, lying on your couch until the last second possible. The thought of canceling had popped through your head multiple times but it was too late now. The only way you could back out is if an emergency happened or you died on the way to the private restaurant Angela had insisted on booking, saying that even though the meeting was supposed to be platonic, it shouldn’t be aired to the public.

A deep sigh left you as you pulled yourself up and walked to your bedroom, dressing yourself in business clothes. You wanted to put effort in, but knowing that you’d definitely be embarrassed if you showed up glammed out and he showed up in a shirt and jeans, you decided against it. It was a business dinner anyway, simply to smooth over a wrong that had been committed against you.

But it wasn’t a wrong, it was Roscoe pushing you over, which could hardly be considered a wrong and was more the dog testing the things he could get away with.

The real wrong was what Lewis had done to you. You hoped that you could get through the ordeal without talking about it, showing up and then posting a picture to Lewis’s instagram or something about how it was all good to appease the critics.

Except there were no critics, it was just Lewis wanting to have dinner with you. Or maybe it was just Angela trying to meddle. Maybe he was going to try to apologise for him ghosting you? You didn’t know if you would accept it.

You might’ve been able to accept it if he’d been honest from the start, telling you that he wouldn’t want you past the end of the break so you could quickly shut down the relationship before it started and move on with your life.

A thought that’d you always try to flush from your mind sprung to the front of it as you wondered. Maybe you were being too harsh. You’d never explicitly expressed what you were, maybe you had just been overthinking it the whole time you were together. Or rather, not together.

But that would’ve been unfair to you anyways, you reassured yourself. Him letting you get a taste of his future before exempting you from it was a cruel thing to do to anyone.

A ring from your phone let you know that you should’ve been out the door at this point. You quickly cursed before grabbing your essentials and running to your entryway, pulling your shoes on, before grabbing your keys from the side table.

After locking your door, you ran down the stairs to your apartment building and hailed a taxi. Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad, so you were able to arrive at the restaurant on time, quickly hurrying inside and getting led to your table.

You never had to worry about being late though, as Lewis wasn’t there when you got to the private booth. It was fine, he came from the other side of town so he’d probably only be a few minutes late.

It was about twenty minutes later you’d sighed and decided to ring Angela. Ironically, she didn’t pick up. You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that left your throat, shaking your head at the sad reality of your situation.

Ghosted by two members of Mercedes. Maybe it was a good idea for Valtteri to move when he had, otherwise they may have just stopped picking up the phone. You gave him ten more minutes before trying Angela again. The same response.

At this point you were sick of being made the fool of. Perhaps it was your fault for believing your dispute could be resolved, your fault for believing you were worth showing up for. You stood up with a pressure at the back of your eyes and began the walk from the private booth all the way at the back of the swanky restaurant to the exit.

Before you got even five meters from your table, the door to the restaurant slammed open. Everyone turned to stare at the heavily breathing world champion as he took a second to recoup himself. He didn’t let himself look at anyone in the restaurant as he straightened his suit and turned to the host, who looked a little shell shocked. A quick exchange later and the host stepped back from the little podium he was stood behind.

You quickly scampered back to your seat, making it just in time and plastering an unimpressed look over your face. Looking back up, you could see Lewis scanning all the patrons of the premises before his eyes paused and locked onto you.

The simple action of making eye-contact, a luxury which you had refused yourself during your bump with Roscoe, sent a lick of emotion down your spine. You couldn’t exactly read his face, you didn’t know what he was choosing to display or doing unwittingly after being played by him for months, but you believed he was relieved.

When he arrived at the table he waved off the host with a small ‘thanks’ before sitting down in the seat opposite to you. It was silent for a few seconds, you both continuing eye contact. You were trying to find anything you could recognise in his eyes while he was just looking at you, at your face.

“I’m sorry for being so late.” He spoke finally, a slight tilt growing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t respond and the awkwardness won him over after a few more seconds, something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He coughed.

“The lift wouldn’t work, I’d left my keys, then no one would pull over. I tried to call you but my phone died, so I just ran trying to get here.” He said and averted his eyes, a mannerism you’d recognised as a nervous tick the couple of times you’d seen it. You didn’t know how to reply so you let your emotions take hold.

“Your call wouldn’t have gone through.” You said blankly and he looked back to you, before chuckling awkwardly. You didn’t find it funny.

“You would’ve had to unblock me first.” You needlessly elaborated, getting some sadistic enjoyment out of the way the man squirmed. He continued his awkward laughing, you joining in to laugh sardonically.

You didn’t know where this feeling, of needing him to a sliver of the uncomfortableness he’d caused you, had come from. The feeling you got from his discomfort wasn’t pleasure though, it felt empty as though it was pointless in the long run. You supposed it was, he wouldn’t remember you in a few years and your small petty actions wouldn’t even matter when he married the princess of some country.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention from your musings to his face.

“I wanted to apologise.” He stated bluntly and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, no shit. He caught your expression and winced.

“I should’ve had Roscoe on a tighter leash and not have given him to Angela. It was my fault-” You tuned him out as he continued, shaking your head in disbelief. Yeah sure, it was why the meeting had been arranged, but you’d genuinely thought he might’ve talked about the elephant in the room at some point. Maybe you were judging harshly though. Maybe after a few minutes he’d start talking about the model he’d piped the other day or the Albanian billionaire who wanted to be his sugar mommy.

You’d forgotten that he could read you like a book and had stopped when he realised you were no longer paying attention. He reached over the table to wave a hand in front of your eyes, an action that was very rude, and you reacted accordingly. You turned to face him, affronted, and he smiled at your expression before his face turned serious and he breathed a deep breath.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about what had happened.” He said finally, staring down at the table, and you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your buttons. You started to talk, the words leaving your mouth before you could properly think about them, hurt blurring your thoughts.

“Of course I would love to recount the time I came home and I found my place ransacked.” You said, the fakeness of your enthusiasm leaking into your words causing him to flinch.

“I’d love to talk about the messages I sent you before I realised I’d been blocked. Sure, let’s talk about how, not even two weeks after telling me you thought we’d have a future together, you’d completely left me, without a word of discussion.” You finally let out, almost strangling your throat closed so as to not let more of the hurt out. This was a work-related dinner after all and you didn’t want to draw more attention than Lewis already had.

His face had fallen, an incredibly unfamiliar look coating his face and you tried to stop yourself before you spoke, trying to tame the biting uncertainties in your head.

“Was it because I’d moved companies?” You questioned and he looked up. “Should I not have followed Valtteri?” Your question floated in the air and he shook his head, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.

“Then why?” You asked after a second and he paused, not responding. You, tired of his silence, thought about all the reasons you’d gone over in your head, and settled on the one that made the most sense to you. Looking back, it was probably the most unrealistic, but it made sense to the angry and sad mindset you had.

“Was it because I couldn’t afford everything?” His head snapped up, shock colouring his features. “I could’ve moved to a new apartment if it bothered you, having to stay over at my place. I knew you didn’t do a lot of things that break because I couldn’t pay, but you could’ve told me if you wanted to. I do have a savings account I could’ve dipped into.” You said quietly, looking down at the table, all the fight having been sapped from your body.

You were tired. You didn’t know what the time difference was between you and Canada, but you were sure that you could set an alarm and wake up to spill your guts to the stranger, it was better than telling anyone you knew.

Lewis called your name but you didn’t look up from the table, hoping to not see any form of confirmation in his eyes. He reached a hand over the table, this time to not be rude but to lift your chin up and look in your eyes. He contemplated for a second before speaking softly.

“I thought it was what you wanted.” He said and you reared back, completely shocked before he continued.

“You kept going to meetings with Alfa Romeo and I thought it was your subtle way of telling me to fuck off. You know, that you had more important things to worry about than a driver from your old company. We’d never talked about what we were and I just thought…” He paused for a second here, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at the wall before looking back into your eyes.

“I thought I could bite the bullet, leave before you could tell me to go. And it worked in the end, you’ve been doing exceptionally well. I haven’t seen a bad story about Valtteri in months.” He said and withdrew his hand as he leaned back against the chair behind him. You processed his words for a moment before he cleared his throat, drawing you back to look at him.

“I would never, by the way.” He disclosed quietly and you tilted your head. He continued. “I don’t mind if you have the money or not, for that break your apartment was the best place for me.”

The use of the present tense threw you off for a second, leaving you to rearrange yourself in your seat and clear your throat as you thought of a response. You couldn’t, opening your mouth but no words coming out. He’d stunned you into silence. You finally found your voice after steeling yourself for a second. “W-what about umm… what was her name?” You asked, a stutter permeating your words. He just sighed, letting his head fall slack to stare at the table.

“It was a mistake.” He said quietly, and guilt for the poor girl rushed through you. “I thought that after I’d let you go I should at least try to find something as a replacement.” He looked up at you.

“I couldn’t though, no one could match to you. But I couldn’t leave her without a reason.”

He leaned further back in his seat, his voice terse as he spoke. “She gave me plenty of reason after I caught her in bed with her ex.” You winced at the tone of his voice and gave him a second to collect his thoughts. Even if he was trying to break it off, it’s never a good feeling to be cheated on.

You spoke up after a second, trying to clear the silence between you and deciding he should know about your fling after you’d ended if this dinner was going to way you thought it was.

“I met a man in Canada.” You said hesitantly and you saw his shoulders drop.

“Oh.” He said quietly, before shaking himself out as if he was a cat and plastering a smile on his face. Lewis made eye-contact and asked you a question.

“What’s his name?” Fake-enthusiasm permeated his question, as though he was trying to hide his disappointment.

You didn’t want to address that, though you knew you had to. Could you take him back? You didn’t know for sure if he would leave you again, which scared you. The whole idea of taking him back scared you, though the thought of more time with him that wasn’t spent trying to avoid looking his way made you hopeful. You tried not to feel that way, knowing that you shouldn’t base your happiness on the man.

But he had apologised and explained his reasoning. As much as you wanted to curse him out for not talking with you, it did make sense. Feelings of inadequacy were present in every person, no matter how remarkable they were.

Look at you, already being hypocritical over your own words. You’d said you didn’t know if you’d take him back, but now you were already planning it. Was that pathetic? You didn’t like to think it was, but maybe you were wrong, ignoring your dignity in favour of the man.

God, if only the world was more simple and less complicated. If only you hadn’t gotten locked in an elevator, if only Roscoe hadn’t been as adorable as he was, if only you’d said no to this dinner. If only you’d just talked about your feelings from the start instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Too late now though, you supposed, snapping back to the present and leveling eye-contact with Lewis. You contemplated your words, knowing they’d probably either be the start or the end of your time with him.

“I don’t remember.” You said finally, staring at Lewis’ face as a smile that he tried to contain spread over it.

“You don’t remember his name?” He asked, almost trying to confirm his words and you shook your head. He couldn’t control his smile, trying to mask it behind a cough. You only started to grin in response, looking into his eyes as they slowly turned back into half-moons.

A cleared-throat startled you both out of your bubble and you turned to the waiter, who looked as if he had just watched a soap opera play out in front of him. He awkwardly held out menus to the both of you and you quickly accepted them, apologising for making him stand awkwardly for so long.

When he’d left you both had looked at each other and exchanged smiles. The dinner had continued and it was as lovely as Lewis himself. That is to say, very lovely.

After paying and making the walk to Lewis’ house, you both stumbled into Lewis’ abode, not able to keep your hands off of each other. However a large obstacle had stopped you from taking it further, namely the heavy weight of the british bulldog that decided to settle himself on top of you the second you’d walked through the door.

You could barely hear Lewis’s laughter over the sound of Roscoe licking the side of your face, you muffling your own laughter into the carpet.

When you’d next seen Valtteri, he’d only taken one glance at your neck before shooting you a smirk, the knowing glance he had on his face making you roll your eyes as you pushed him to his interviews.

i got stuck halfway through but i just wanted it overrrr. Hopefully it's not too bad, let me know in the comments.

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

fuck it, it’s fine - p.gavi

masterlist

pairings: Pablo gavi x gem!footballer!reader

warnings: mentions of hooking up + some content not intended for minors

a/n: everyone thank miss Olivia Rodrigo for getting me out of a writers block!!!!

Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans

I know I should stop-, but I can't

THE NEXT DAY | NOW

the tablet is slammed down against the wooden table and shoved towards the edge of the desk where you’re seated. it’s not a pretty sight to look at, your public relations manager, your coach, your teams manager, and an article about your public hook up with a man you’d sworn was nothing but a friend despite previous sexual relations with that ended poorly for you and your team.

“I’ll give you a chance to explain why your tongue was in his mouth.” your teams manager paces the tiny conference room, everyone watches your every move waiting for a response, but nothing comes. your mouth is agape, like it’s ready to move and speak words, but nothing comes. the headline, the images, and the tiny caption below your faces stole every breath you had.

PABLO GAVI SEEN WITH Y/N Y/L/N DESPITE DENYING RUMORS OF PREVIOUS RELATIONS.

the Real Madrid footballer, y/n y/l/n, seen shoving tongue down Pablo gavi’s throat. it was reported the two had many hookups throughout the previous season through anonymous sources.

“how did this happen again?”

“well…”

THAT AFTERNOON

winning your first match of the season is the best feeling. it gives you the clarity in mind that the season could have a great ending or a decent outcome, and with high spirits, you enter the locker room on cloud nine. oh little did you know what was waiting for you.

your team pats each other on the back, hugs for the members who ran the pitch, and showers of water from the plastic bottles to celebrate the first game back. it’s all the things that should bring you into a good mood, except the little device in your hands has other news.

gavi: nice win.

gavi: do you want to come over?

now how could you say no? sure, it’s been a couple of months since your stomach did backflips and your heart nearly shot out of its chest, but could you ever turn down Pablo gavi? absolutely not. even if it was bad for you, and you’d end up spiraling out of control like the last time, you still say what you always do.

you: time and place. I’ll be there.

—

his cheeky little grin makes you want to slap it right off. the minute he opens that door, the second that grin fell onto his lips, you don’t feel a single amount of regret when your lips touch his.

“Aw you missed me?” he chuckles, the vibration of him pulls you closer as you kick the door shut behind you. your lips just grazing each others before he bites your bottom lip with his teeth allowing his tongue to slip inside.

“pretty big ego you got to think I would miss you.” you say. pressing your index finger into his chest, you position your body closer to his, but still with enough space between you both. you can practically feels his cock hardening against you despite the distance between you both. it makes you smile knowing how you quick he was wrapped around your finger.

“I don’t know, rumor has it I’m all you think about.” his smirk makes your brain fuzzy, your pussy throbs like it hasn’t before as you press yourself into him feeling his hardness in his pants. you plant your lips against his, and grab a fistful of his hair allowing his mouth to open for your tongue to slip in , “I guess the rumors are true.”

“aren’t you the guy who says don’t believe everything you read online?” you cross your arms over your chest, subconsciously, pushing them upward and closer together making his eyes fall anywhere but on your face. you like the way he looks at you, and despite where he’s looking, Pablo knew how to give you the attention where you wanted it. maybe that’s why you always crawled back.

a scoff escapes his lips while he shakes his head to snap him out from staring at your chest, “god you drive me wild.”

“good to know I do something to you.” you say it with a sly smile when he unexpectedly turns toward you and presses a kiss to your lips. it wasn’t unlike him to show this sort of affection, but Pablo gavi was more into sex than feelings.

“let’s go out, I want to show you off.”

“showing me off in Barcelona? you must forget who I play for.”

THE NEXT DAY | NOW

his fingers tap against the wood table tops listening to you from start to finish, and when you finally look up, none of their hard facial expressions had fallen. this truly was a bad idea. getting in his car, sucking off his face for millions of people to see, the feeling in your gut is anything but pleasant.

“do you ever make smart decisions?”

your public relations manager laughs, the stress lines on his forehead can tell you every story of stupid decisions you’d made since the move to Madrid. and all of them seemed to start and end with Pablo gavi.

“I’d ban you from seeing him, but what’s the point? I know you’ll go and do it anyway.”

“no sir I’m done with him and anyone in a Barcelona shirt.” you put your hands up in defeat wishing you had a white flag to show you were surrendering to the root cause of frustration from your team.

“get out of my office now, I hope I don’t have to see you here again this season.”

you push yourself out of the chair and bid a goodbye to your three least favorite people out of the entire team and exit the building with not an ounce of pride left in you.

gavi: my place again? I guess I did miss you.

here we go again.

Yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?

"I only see him as a friend, " the biggest lie I ever said

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lcvesjj · 11 months

Note

Hey! I hope you're well and I hope you're taking requests!

I was hoping you could do a Chris Alonso × fem!reader?

Maybe something with angst and end fluff where the reader is busy with day to day errands and suddenly they are in danger and SWAT are sent to handle it? Maybe Chris and the reader are already dating? The plot is up to you!

Thanks again!

Title : Safe - Chris Alonso x Fem!Reader

Warnings : reader is being followed and is attempted to be taken hostage?? (Idk what else to call it I'm sorry-), angst (but it all ends fluffy), Chris is a huge softie here (might be slightly ooc)

A/n : SUHHDJSND I literally screamed after seeing this ask bc I’ve wanted to write something for Chris for sooo long! Thank you for this request! And I hope this is alright :) Requests are currently open! This was written in a rush since I'm trying to catch up on some requests so it's not the best 🥲

my masterlist

who I write for & request rules

Getting out of bed in the morning gave you such a bad feeling as if something terrible was supposed to happen but you just brushed it off as anxiety.

The feeling got even worse when you walked out of yours and Chris’s shared apartment. It was like someone was watching you- the thought of you being followed by someone crossed your mind but you just brushed it off thinking that nothing bad would happen. Chris taught you some simple self defence moves, so in your mind you felt safe- like nothing bad could ever happen to you.

Driving towards the store you listened to some music while thinking about Chris, the two of you planned to go on a nice date tonight after she was done with work. Which made you really excited since you loved spending time with her and it was a little rare that you both had enough time to go on a proper date.

Looking back into your front view mirror you frowned. Why was there a big black van constantly following you? What could they want? You decided to send Chris a short text saying “Sorry to bother you but I’m omw to the grocery store but there a black van constantly following me. What should I do now?” Hoping she’d see it soon and respond quickly. The gut feeling got even worse, seeing as the van was still there.

After arriving at the store parking lot you parked the car, locked all doors and decided to call Chris and ask what to do since you felt unsafe and couldn't think clearly due to all the nerves and stress you felt. Hearing the phone go to voicemail you decided to head inside of the store and maybe ask someone who works there for help. Which wasn't the best idea but you were to scared and stressed to think clearly.

What you didn’t know is that Chris had seen your texts and your call and had alerted the team about your text, since they were currently searching for a group of people who would follow and then kidnap their victims. One thing that all of the victims had in common was that they were somehow related to police or swat officers which made it even dangerous.

After hearing the alert that you might be in danger they quickly geared up and drove towards where your last seen location was. And while you were walking towards the store you heard loud and fast footsteps behind you. Hearing the telltale sirens of the Black Betty you tried to walk faster until you felt someone grab you and pull you back. That’s when the 20- David Squad arrived and all aimed their weapons at the person who was holding you back.

Seeing Chris’s and the rest of the teams expressions while they yelled for the guy to let you go. You didn’t think twice and with all of your strength you punched back your elbow into the stomach of the guy who was holding you, which took him by surprise and you managed to get away while Street and Hondo cuffed the guy up while yelling something at him. You couldn't make out what they were saying since your ears were ringing and your whole body was trembling.

Chris ran up to you and grabbed you into a tight hug while rubbing your back and whispering over and over again that you're safe and that he won’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.

You leaned into her touch and held onto her tightly while trying to take some deep breaths to calm down. After a while you stopped shaking and slightly pulled away from her. “Thank you.” You breathed out. “No need to thank me, I’m just doing my job and my duties as your girlfriend. Are you okay?” She asks while softly brushing the hair out of your face. “Yea I think I’m alright just a little shaken up.” You say while leaning into her more. Chris pulls you in again and kisses your forehead. “I love you Y/n and you made a good call by texting me.” She smiles softly. “I love you too Chris.” You say sighing in slight relief. You held onto her for just a little longer to fully calm down. “You’re safe now and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.” Chris whispers to you softly before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. That’s when you knew you were safe.

BONUS PART : (later that evening)

Later that evening you and Chris were walking by the beach laughing at the stories Chris was telling about the pranks Street had recently pulled at the SWAT HQ. Laughing while walking hand in hand you smiled widely before pressing a small kiss to Chris’s cheek. “I love you so much Chris and thank you for the amazing date and for saving me today.” You said while smiling softly at her. “Of course mi amor. I’d do anything to keep you safe and happy.” Chris smiled at you before pulling you into a soft kiss. “I love you too.” She adds with a soft grin. You were safe.

#swat x reader #chris alonso #chris alonso x reader #swat cbs

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pickingupmymercedes · 8 days

Text

On Lewis's car yesterday.

I think I've mentioned before here but I had an Alonso moment back in my pre teens, and one of my brothers texted me earlier today asking if I had seen Lewis onboards from yesterday and what had happened because it was a lot like Alonso in the Renault's from 2005.

So I just watched it and yk, Alonso won driving like that, but it's a incredibly agressive way Alonso pretty much mastered to almost induce understeer to heat up the Michelin's and get enough grip on the exit of corners.

Lewis spent the entire race yesterday forcing understeer from the fronts because when he even as much as tried to slowly ease into the steering lock he would completely lose the rear (he almost lost the car multiple times and I didn't even watch the whole race).

And now we pretty much understand why those radios from Bono asking to get the temps down, but like it was the only way he could turn and it also explains why he couldn't really attack as well.

And the problem was so bad on those mediums, in the first 10 laps the rear axel almost gave out twice in that last chicane before the pit straight.

Whaterever experiments they were trying were clearly suspension related and it somehow made that car insanely hard to handle. I can think of a handful of tp's that would just straight up retired the car because it was bordering on dangerous.

From the very first stint anyone could see how hard it was to drive that thing (and apparently even some commentators talked about it), regardless of who came up with that set up and experiments, there was a (very) clear chance Lewis could lose control of that car while turning and hit a wall.

Point here being, until the very last lap Lewis wouldn't even had made a single point and for what?

I have also checked the post race catch up on Merc's and there's absolute zero mention to it, like nothing, and I haven't seen many people even mention the handling of whatever the hell that thing was, and we should, because it was disastrous and it shows Merc has no idea where they're going with that car, and dare I mention even the w16.

#lewis hamilton #ella asks #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #mercedes amg f1 #mercedes #fernando alonso #gonna tag Alonso so Alonso fans can also see the absurdity in having to drive like that with these new Pirelli tyres

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totowlff · 8 months

Text

chapter 15 — family that i chose

➝ cassie discovers that pregnancy cravings suck

➝ word count: 2,6k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: if i wanna cry? yeah.

16 WEEKS The backbone and tiny muscles in your baby's back are gaining strength, so she can straighten out that head and neck even more. Thanks to those developing facial muscles, your baby is capable of making a few expressive frowns and squints, even at this early stage.

Cassie felt pathetic sitting inside of her car, nose red and eyes filling with tears, especially over something that would feel trivial a few months ago.

It all started over the summer, during her trip to Austria for the Grand Prix. Toto took her to a cafe in Vienna near his flat that served this specific type of pastry - almost like a cinnamon roll, but with chocolate filling instead. He said it was called schokoschnecken in German, but it was originally a Hungarian pastry called kakaós csiga. It meant the same thing in both languages - “chocolate snails”. She had one, and it was delicious, but it wasn’t something that she considered a highlight.

Well, until that week. Toto had traveled to Hungary, after all, it was another normal race week and that meant little time to talk to each other. They were able to conduct quick calls and messages about how she and the baby were doing, but Cassie felt strange every time she got off the phone.

It was as if the lack of Toto’s physical presence began to feel bigger with each day he spent away from her. Cassie even suspected it might be something related to her hormones, which she blamed on most things these days, including the way she felt uncomfortably bloated, had unpleasant heartburn, and was on a constant emotional rollercoaster. Deep down, she knew all of this was coming, and that she shouldn’t feel bad about it, but thinking about it just made her want to cry more.

She tried to calm herself down with some breathing exercises, letting her head fall back and gaze up at the roof of her car, but she was interrupted by her phone ringing. She glanced at the screen and realized who was calling, and took a moment to try and compose herself, wiping her cheeks before she answered.

— Hello, Cassie? — she heard Toto say. It sounded like he was smiling — How are you?

— Hi, Toto, I'm fine — Cassie said, cringing at the nasal quality to her voice — And you?

— Everything's fine here too, I'm coming back — he began, stopping after she sniffled once again — Are you crying?

— No, not at all…

— Yes, you are crying, I can tell by your voice. What happened?

— It's just — Cassie said, in a low voice — Remember the photo you sent me on Wednesday?

— The one with my breakfast at that cafe?

— Yeah.

— What about it?

— It's just that there was a plate with those… pastries I had in Vienna — she stammered, feeling her lower lip tremble — The chocolate rolls. The… chocolate snails, or whatever they were in German.

Cassie's voice broke, and she started sobbing again.

— Oh, my angel…

— I thought there wouldn't be any around here, so I bought some chocolate croissants at Sainsbury’s, but they were horrible. Then, I went to Waitrose and they didn't have anything like that, just cinnamon rolls. After that, I went to Pret and they only had ones with white chocolate — she continued, while tears ran down her face — And now I'm in front of a Danish bakery that one of the girls in marketing recommended to me, with an empty box of cinnamon rolls and in tears because I can’t find anything like it.

— Probably because it’s a Hungarian pastry — Toto murmured on the other end of the line.

— I remembered that it was like a cinnamon roll, so I thought that would be close enough to make these cravings go away — Cassie replied — And I feel like an idiot because I ate all these pastries for nothing and they’re probably not good for me, and the doctor said I’m supposed to be eating well so I don’t gain too much weight aside from the baby, but nothing else even sounds good right now…

— Cassandra…

— I even tried making them at home, but I didn’t let the dough rest long enough and all of the butter leaked out of them and they were really greasy and chewy — she continued, sobs punctuating her words and making fat tears fall into the empty box in her lap.

— My angel, listen to me — Toto interrupted her, his soft voice loosening the knot in her chest — Firstly, you shouldn't worry about getting fat. You are growing an entire human being and you have every right to eat whatever you want. I want you to worry about being well and happy, not about numbers on a scale.

She sniffled, looking at her belly, bulging under the blouse she was wearing.

— Are you sure? I feel so ugly…

— You could never be ugly, my angel — Toto replied, making her smile — You’re so gorgeous that you’re going to be the prettiest mama at the playground, the other parents won’t be able to take their eyes off of you.

Cassie giggled.

— Please, I’m not that…

— We’ll see about that, when you make a man faint because he saw the most gorgeous woman in the world holding the prettiest baby on the playground.

— What about the women that won’t be able to take their eyes off of the tall, handsome man with the charming accent pushing a stroller?

— We'll see, Cassie — he laughed — Now I need to go, okay?

Suddenly, her joy went out, like a candle that had just been blown out. The prospect of Toto hanging up was terrifying. Why did he make her feel this way? Why did the idea of not being able to talk to him for a while feel like her heart was being ripped out of her chest? Toto wasn’t her boyfriend, he was her boss and her daughter’s co-parent.

— Okay — Cassie mumbled.

— Don’t worry, Cassie. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll come and check on you after I get back — the team principal said, just before the line went silent. She sighed as she stared at the screen as it went black. Cassie just wanted it to be the next evening.

A day later, the sound of the intercom put an end to Cassie's agony.

Jumping up from the sofa, she tapped the button on her intercom and let Toto in. She hovered uncomfortably by the door, trying to settle herself so that Toto wouldn’t see the way she was waiting for him. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she opened the door for him. The smile that appeared on Cassie's face when she saw Toto was completely involuntary, but it turned into surprise when she saw that Toto was holding a pink pastry box.

— Toto?

— Ah, good evening, Cassie — he said, smiling. When he got close to her, Toto bent down to plant a cordial kiss on her cheek — Are you okay?

— Yeah — she stammered, as Toto stepped into her apartment and removed his shoes — What is this?

— What is what?

— This — Cassie said, pointing to the box he had just placed on the table in her entryway.

Toto smiled.

— Ah, someone called me yesterday saying she wanted to eat Hungarian chocolate rolls — he explained, opening the box almost theatrically, revealing a dozen glossy pastries, smothered in icing. Staring at the contents of the box, Cassie felt an inexplicable wave of heat expand through her chest.

— You got these for me? — she stammered, looking up at Toto.

— Of course, you said you wanted them, so I brought them to you.

— But, how? You said you were going straight from the circuit to the airport…

— I asked the catering staff to pack a box and leave it in my office after the race — he replied, anxiety written all over his expression — Aren't you going to try it?

— Can I? — Cassie asked, shyly.

— Of course, they are yours.

Taking one of the pastries, she took a careful bite, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh. It was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, the chocolate combining perfectly with the buttery layers of dough. As she chewed, Cassie couldn't help but be impressed by the texture and softness of it, even though they were probably a day old at that point.

When she opened her eyes again, she met Toto's attentive gaze.

— Good? — he asked, expectation clear on his face.

She nodded, taking another bite while he smiled with satisfaction at having accomplished his mission. However, as she chewed, Cassie noticed that his smile seemed almost mischievous.

— What? — she asked, mouth full of pastry.

— You’ve got something on your face — Toto replied, seeming to hold back a laugh.

Finding a bit of chocolate icing on the corner of her lips, Cassie wiped it off with her thumb, bringing it to her mouth and licking it off. However, that made Toto shake his head before taking a step forward. Silently, he brought his hand to the tip of her nose and gently rubbed her skin with his thumb.

Looking up at him, Cassie found warmth in Toto's brown eyes. It was as if he was standing in front of something precious, looking at someone who was truly important to him. And the feeling of being that person for him, of being relevant to the point where he brought a box of pastries directly from Hungary to satisfy her stupid pregnancy cravings, made her eyes fill with tears.

— Cassie? Are you okay?

— Yeah — she sniffed, running her fingers over her cheek — I’m okay, just...

Placing his hand over hers, concern was evident in Toto's eyes.

— Isn't that what you wanted?

— No… I mean, yes, it's what I wanted, just — Cassie's voice trailed off — It's really good. Better than I imagined.

The team principal smiled, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

— I'm glad you like it, Cassie — Toto said — I was really upset after hearing you crying on the phone.

— I'm sorry about that — she said, looking down at the half-eaten pastry in her hand.

— No, there's no reason to apologize, my angel. I’ve read about the cravings pregnant women get and, like I said, I'm here for both of you — he assured, placing his other hand on her belly — And if our Ingrid wants chocolate snails, she'll have them, no matter what. I insist on that.

Staring into his eyes, Cassie could hear her own pulse in her ears, as well as a strange sensation in her abdomen. It was a kind of spasm, very different from the butterflies she used to feel when she was with Toto. When the feeling suddenly stopped, she realized what had happened.

And her eyes filled with tears again, this time, with joy.

— Cassie? — Toto asked softly.

Placing his hand in the exact spot on her belly, it only took a few seconds for the spasm to repeat itself. Toto looked down at her abdomen, seeming to process what had just happened.

— You felt that?

Toto looked up with wide eyes.

—That was…

— It's her — Cassie smiled, feeling — She's moving.

An incredulous laugh escaped his lips.

— Mein kleines Mädchen — Toto murmured, staring at Cassie's belly again, as if he could see Ingrid's little face through her skin. Then, he knelt in front of her— Dir gefielen die Süßigkeiten so gut, dass du dich entschieden hast, vorbeizukommen?

Feeling some strange impulse, Cassie brought her hand to the top of Toto’s head without thinking about it, stroking her fingers through his hair.

— Was für ein verspieltes kleines Mädchen du bist, Ingrid. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, Sie hier bei uns zu haben und unsere Tage in pure Freude zu verwandeln — he continued. After a new flutter, the two looked at each other, the tears in their eyes speaking much more than any words.

A few seconds later, he stood up and wrapped Cassie in a tight hug, pressing her head against his chest. The silence in the apartment's dining room carried a tranquility that was impossible to describe, at least in her view. With her eyes closed, she enjoyed the warmth of Toto's arms and his calm breathing, interrupted by the occasional sniffle.

This was the peace she had sought all her life.

— Thank you — Cassie whispered. The word made Toto pull away slightly to look at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

— For what? — he questioned.

— For the pastries.

— You know it was the least I could do for you, right? — Toto said, a mischievous smile on his lips — I'm here to support you in everything, it's my commitment to you and Ingrid.

— And that's why I'm thanking you. For being by my side from the beginning, when Ingrid was just a dream of mine — she said — I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for getting into this with me, despite all of the hassle, the appointments -

Cassie's voice cracked. It still felt a little surreal that they had made it, that they were actually going to have a daughter together. But the slight flutter in her belly was proof enough that there was a little girl growing inside Cassie.

— And I would do it all again.

— Would you?

— Yes — Toto said, nodding — I would go through all the exams, all the conversations, all the stages of our legal agreement, all the bureaucratic procedures...

— Even the night we conceived her?

The silence that followed after Cassie's question was different from the one that had enveloped their embrace. Toto stared at her with an unreadable expression, as if he was thinking about what he would say to her.

— Well, yes — he replied, then added — Especially considering we wouldn't have Ingrid here if it weren't for what happened that night. Furthermore, if it hadn't happened, we would probably have had to continue with the insemination process and we would have run the risk of new failures, new frustrations...

Disappointment grew within Cassie as Toto continued babbling about how the process of continuing to try to have a baby artificially would probably have worn them both out. She knew that question had been risky, especially considering the particularly unknown territory they were exploring together.

However, there was a part of Cassie that wished Toto had responded that she would get through this because he liked her and wanted to take the next step, but those hopes were being dashed as he talked.

“How am I going to be happy like this, Toto?”, she thought, while he kissed her forehead again.

— Now I need to go, I have some things to organize at home and some emails to answer — he said, taking a step back.

— Are you sure? — Cassie stammered — I can make us something to eat, or we could order something...

— I don't want to keep you any more busy than necessary, and besides, you need to rest. You’re at the office tomorrow, right?

— Yes, I am — she murmured, almost disinterested — Getting things ready for the summer shutdown.

— Do you have any plans? — Toto asked, his hand still resting on the side of her belly.

— Well, I'm thinking about going to see my aunt in Chichester...

— Ah, Simone, right? — he smiled, confident that he had gotten it right.

— It's Sybil, Toto — Cassie laughed — And yes, that’s the one. She’s the only family I really talk to, aside from my sister. I don't even know where Aunt Penelope lives and you know that my father's family was never very affectionate with me, so it doesn't make sense to talk to them.

Toto’s gaze softened.

— They have no idea what they're missing.

— A real nuisance, my grandfather Albert would say.

— An extraordinary woman — he corrected her, before approaching and placing a kiss on her forehead again, accompanied by a hug — I’ll see you tomorrow?

— As always — Cassie replied, forcing a smile.

— Perfect — Toto said, before bending down slightly — Wir sehen uns auch morgen, okay? Ich liebe dich, mein kleines Mädchen.

Cassie walked him out of the apartment, and he hugged her again. As she closed the door, she spent a few seconds in silence, his warmth still present in the places where he had touched her body so tenderly. Placing her hands on her own belly, she tried to replicate the way he caressed her, feeling the first movements of their daughter, the child who would bond them forever.

The constant reminder that she was too difficult to love.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #wlffog #etlwlff #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fic #toto wolff fanfic #formula one fanfic

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rfxiii · 11 months

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this is probably weird? but franklin clinton & lamar X black female reader but like separate ofc

idk like just making her feel more confident n pretty 😭 IDKK

This is not weird at all and honestly a really cute ask! I love it. Tysm for the request! 💕

*TW: none

Franklin Clinton & Lamar Davis (separately) with a black, female s/o:

(I thought it may be easier to convey my thoughts via headcanons. But if you’d have preferred me to write scenarios for both the guys I’d love to do that too! Just send me a request! 💕)

Franklin Clinton:

I honestly feel like Franklin would prefer a black, female s/o over any other s/o. Especially if he knew her from his neighborhood or if they’d gone to highschool together. He’d enjoy the shared background and coming from the same place (unlike if he’d met a s/o from the Vinewood Hills. I feel like he’d have a harder time relating to someone who didn’t understand where he came from.)

If you did go to highschool together he’d occasionally bring up how he’d always been into you, how beautiful he’d always thought you were. Even though he’s embarrassed about it he’d even tell you about all the times he’d used to practice asking you out in front of the mirror before chickening out once he saw you.

You could be in your pajamas, fresh out of the shower, no makeup, or full face and dressed to the nines. It does not matter. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen and he’s going to let you know. It doesn’t even have to have horny vibes or be about your body. He’s talking about your voice, your smile, your laugh, how happy you look in the moment. You’re perfect to him.

The perfect hype man. He wants to sit back and watch you do a fashion show for him when you buy new clothes, he wants you to proudly show off to him how good your makeup looks, and he wants to receive tons of selfies. He probably has pictures of the two of you saved as his home and lock screen on his phone.

You’re getting random compliments all throughout the day: “Damn, baby girl.. How’d I get so lucky?”, “Shit! We can’t go out tonight with you looking like that. I can’t fight off every guy in LS that’s gonna wanna steal you.”, “Have I ever told you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

He likes to lay in bed with you on lazy mornings, holding you from behind and pressing kisses to your shoulder while he lists every single thing he loves about you.

If you’re ever having a bad day- maybe feeling down or low on self confidence and you ask him if there’s anything he doesn’t like, or anything he’d change about you. The only thing he’d ever have to say is, “Babe, only thing I’d ever wanna change about you is that you’d be able to see you like I see you. Then you’d always know how beautiful you are.”

He’ll off-handedly brag about you to his friends. He’ll show pictures of you to Lamar and look so damn smug when Lamar complains about not having a steady girl to be with. He’ll make little comments about how perfect you are to Michael when Michael bitches about his home life. He’ll even occasionally bring you around the guys if he knows nothing crazy is going down.

He buys you things that remind him of you- different jewelry pieces, your favorite flowers, perfume, or candies, he’s even tried to write a song for you before (he keeps that a secret though. He’s too embarrassed to show you).

Lamar Davis:

You’re his home and lock screen on his phone and computer. He keeps a framed picture of you by his bed. He’s even got a picture of you in his wallet and in the visor of his car.

He loves you so much he may just go the Trevor route and get your name tattooed on him.

He’s constantly posting you on social media, raving about how beautiful you are and how everyone else should be jealous of him. He honestly feels like you’re the most perfect girl he could have ever pulled. He’s still in awe of how he ended up with you.

“Goddamn girl! Look at you!”, “You get more and more fine every time I see you!”, “Babe, please stop looking so hot and shit! You got me losing my damn train of thought everytime I see you!”- he’s full of silly, loud, over the top compliments that he has saved for when you’re alone, or shouted full volume in front of people. He loves you, you’re beautiful, and he’s going to let everyone know.

Loudly brags about you to everyone he knows. Even people who have never met you are convinced you’re a goddess by the time he’s done describing you.

He always has his hands on you, complimenting your body and how much he loves the way you feel against him. He could spend hours doing nothing but telling you all the things he thinks are perfect about you.

He fell over himself once trying to open a door for you before you could do it yourself. If you try to open your own car doors he’s gonna close the door just so he can be the one to open it for you again. He’s goofy as hell but he loves you more than anything and it’s always going to be obvious that he does.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #franklin clinton #lamar davis #gta x reader #x reader #franklin clinton x reader #lamar davis x reader #asks

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genderflu1dwh0r · 1 year

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Are you stupid?

You can be racist and have POC friends, Jason is way worse than Billy any day. Jason isn't the one being abused by his father everyday, he isn't poor, he didn't get taken from his home and live with a step sibling that he didn't know that well.

Jason is a horrible person and got his friend to tackle Erica, then he held a gun at Lucas. You can't tell me that that isn't racist, you can't tell me that's worse than what Billy ever did. Jason said "I thought you were one of the good ones". That. Is. Racist.

Billy got his bad traits from his father. Billy got beat by his father. Billy was crying into the phone for his mom to come home. Billy had no support system. Steve was the only person that Billy bullied and tormented, and in my opinion, Steve is a worse character than Billy.

Steve threw slurs, while Billy got slurs thrown at him by his own father. Just because you don't care about abuse victims, doesn't mean you have to spread your hate.

I think that Billy just wanted Lucas to stop hanging around because if Neil found out, Billy would be the one getting beat. Neil would probably hurt Lucas way more than Billy could have ever done. Billy was protecting Max and himself, he was scared that Neil would find out. He did care and love Max, he just showed it in some confusing ways.

Also, the Duffer brothers are racist, they wanted Dacre to say the N word. Dacre protested and it ended up not happening. Billy saying the N word isn't canon, cause it didn't happen in the show. Stop always going to that excuse for him being a bad person. He never said any slur.

People say "if the actor wasn't hot, then people wouldn't have liked him" and I disagree. His character is very interesting. He has a backstory, he has trauma, he has an actual interesting plot unlike any other character. Dacre is also a very amazing actor, he was able to make Billy even more interesting.

Dacre has said that his art imitates his life. He put his own life into the character, he didn't have a great relationship with his dad, he has said this.

Max is a horrible person too, she drugged Billy with something that she didn't know was in, almost hit him with Steve's bat, screamed at him before leaving and stealing his car. Billy could have died on the floor, he was drugged and had no car. Tell me that that isn't abuse. Just because Billy grabbed her wrist ONE time, doesn't mean it's abuse.

Siblings fight all the time, it's just what happens. Especially how their family dynamics was. I and many others have fights with our siblings. You get over it in like a day. That doesn't make Billy a bad person. He did some really shitty things, yes. But that doesn't excuse all the hate he gets. He's a complex character, no other character is like him.

That's why he's my baby boy. I relate to him, I'm an abuse victim, I love knowing that I have a character to relate to. Stop blaming abuse victims on how they grew up, they can change. He could have changed if he didn't die. He could have, but nobody let him.

Nobody tried to help him. He didn't have a support system. The people who compare Jonathan to Billy are wild, cause Jonathan did have a support system, his mother did so much. Billy had nobody. His father beat him, hi stepmother did NOTHING to stop Neil, she just watched. She was clearly abused too, but she's the adult, she has to be there for Billy. She has to get Max away from all of this, which in season 4, she did. But she turned into an even worse mom.

Right here. He was trying to get help, he was trying to get the MF to get out. He wanted someone to help him. He kept fighting, and that's how he saved everyone on the day he died. He knew he was going to die, he was sobbing.

Try to think before talking bad against Billy.

Why do people say Vecna/Henry/Jason/Troy/James/Angela are better than Billy?

Vecna/Henry literally tried to kill children and the whole world. Billy wanted to have some fun and games, he would never go to prison for killing a child. He was never going to hit Mike, Lucas, Dustin, or Will.

Troy/James made Mike jump off of a fucking cliff while wanting to take Dustins teeth out. Tell me that isn't fucked. MIKE WOULD HAVE DIED IF EL WASN'T THERE!!

Jason held a fucking gun to Lucas's head and got Erica hurt. He sent a witch-hunt over Eddie and that ended up killing that poor boy. Literally, he was poor and Jason is a rich christian white boy. Tell me that isn't classist. Jason also did this to get information out of a kid.

Angela deserved the roller skate to the face for what she did to El. I would have done the same thing, El never deserved any of what she went through there.

Anyone going to object? Cause you can't, my points are spot on. Why aren't we gonna get mad at Jamie Campbell Bower over saying he relates to Vecna/Henry? If Dacre is bad for doing so, why can't we shame Jamie for the same thing?

I would count the MF taking over Billy like that as a reference of sexual assault. His body gets taken away from him, he is crying for help, he is scared and tried to tell someone. I've talked to SA survivors and they agree.

Anyway, I am pissed at Billy antis and I am just so done with them.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #st billy #stranger things billy #dacre montgomery #neil hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #jason carver

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starsomens · 1 year

Text

Warnings: deals with bad home situation, may indicated past trauma, leaving home Proceed with caution!

So this is very personal and in a way self expression...or what I wish I could do. but I also think a lot of people can relate to a situation like this so I hope this could potentially bring some comfort to someone out there and maybe they'll feel less alone

me: noah? Noah: yes princess? me: can you come get me? Please. Noah: I'm on my way. Is everything okay? Are you okay? me:....im okay. just come please.

You get a text about 10 minutes later when Noah was outside of your house. You climb out of your window with just a bookbag and a small purse. you quickly climb into his car and say nothing. Judging by your face he knew not to ask right now and drove off. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable. He knew you had it rough at home and he's always said to text him any time of day when you had to get away quickly. Even if that meant you never going back.

Which is why you were driving down the road at 3 am.

He had a peek at your bag that had some clothes, underwear and other essentials. As if you were sleeping over....but that wasn't the case. Pulling up in his driveway, he gets out of the car , comes to your side and opens the door. He grabs one of your bags and you take the other. You were still in your Pjs and slippers and you looked exhausted. He put his hand on your lower back and lead you to the door.

You come inside and the house was quiet, Nick was in the kitchen getting some water and you gave a half smile. Noah comes down to your ear

"Go to my room, I'll be there in a second"

After you went upstairs he goes over to Nick and just lets him know you might be staying for a while. Nick had absolutely no problem with it. You got along really well with his friends and they were basically like family to you now. Noah goes upstairs and into his room where you were sat on his bed, lost in your own head. He put your bags near his desk and came over to you.

"Y/N....come here." he said softly as he opens his arms for you to come into. You scoot over until your head was against his chest and his arms wrap around your frame. It made you feel so small, fragile....and safe. You body shakes as you try and hold in a sob, he just rocks your body and lets you get it out

"Shhh its okay baby I know.." he kisses the crown of your head "You're okay now, I'm here baby."

You chest felt like it was weighed down and broken all at the same time. You felt so numb but felt so much all at once. You didn't want things to end up this way...but things just happen

but at least you had Noah to be your rock

"You're safe baby. I swear to you, I'll always be here." he held you tighter "I promise"

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian angst #lowkey cried writing this #star's blurbs

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super-ion · 1 month

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Aug-UST Day 21 - Only You Can Understand

Another prompt from the August prompt list by @thepromptfoundry, this time featuring my OC's from Ion & Emily!

---

[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Hey! It's me, your favorite supervillain, Ion. So, clearly I haven't gotten to this point in my story, so there's a lot of detail between here and there that's missing... buuuut I'm processing some emotions, so I'm going to just dramadump.

Okay, context for anyone who's just now catching up:

Y'all remember Janice? From super hero media relations? (Also Emily's ex girlfriend) So basically, she got caught in some sort of particle accelerator accident (as one does) and decided to go on her very own super-powered corruption arc (who can blame her?) Anyway, she's currently throwing cars and shit around with her mind. Also she's got like this really badass and really creepy chitinous armor (think like xenomorph queen but with thrashing tentacles coming out of her back). Also she's glowing, like her eyes and the gaps in her armor are emitting this red light. Also, she has telekinesis. It's terrifying.

(Why was she near a particle accelerator? Who do I know who has access to a particle accelerator? WAS SARAH REBOUNDING WITH JANICE?? How did this even happen??)

I don't know. The world may never know.

But yeah... Sarah, aka Lady Lacuna, you know and love her: supervillain, my best friend, Emily's ex, my brother's ex, Emily's brother's ex, Emily and my brothers' ex again (spoiler: trying to get them back together did NOT work out, sorry... She hasn't been doing super great, not since the breakup)

But back to the present situation. Lady L and I are doing a rare team up with the league of superheroes. Me mostly because this is an existential threat to the city where I live, Sarah because... well... maybe she feels responsible for something??? I don't know??

But yeah, Janice is fighting each of us like she's got a fucking personal grudge (which honestly is probably fair, given her job (she practically threw Jackrabbit across the city, so kudos to her for that))

Okay sorry, I'm starting to ramble a little (you know me 😘). I'll try to keep the commentary to a minimum since this bit here isn't really my story.]

[Lady L dives behind an overturned car to join me]

Me: "Did you see where Umbra went down?"

L: "What?"

[oh yeah, I forgot to mention, she's been kinda increasingly distracted this whole fight, like there's something demanding her attention]

Me: "Dude, she swatted Umbra with an I-beam. He went down pretty hard."

L: "Oh..."

Me: "Hey, what is going on with you? You don't need to be here if you can't-"

L: "I'm fine! It's just... They're just very loud right now."

Me: "..."

[I don't really know who "they" refers to in this context, my best educated guess is the tentacle monsters that live in the hell dimension that she opens portals to. She's got like some level of control over them, but I get the impression they're their own things. She doesn't talk about them... like at all, like she's just super cagey about that whole aspect of her powers. I respect her privacy, I really do, but like, I'm dying of curiosity over here]

[I peek around the car and am rewarded with a hunk of concrete and rebar aimed at my head]

Me: "Well, it's too bad you can't ask them to get her to stop. You know she really looks like she... what?"

[Lady L is staring at me like I've just provided the last piece to some puzzle in her head]

L: "I need to talk to her."

Me: "What!?"

L: "I think I know how to fix this"

Me: "Fix what?? What on earth are you talking about?"

L [under her breath]: "Nothing on earth..."

[I make my best "what the actual fuck are you talking about?" face]

L: "Take care of them for me"

[so, "them" in this case could either be John and Dale (her exes) or Art and Hands (the other members of our little unofficial supervillain club). I honestly don't know and I really don't like where this is going. But before I can stop her, she's portalling away, reappearing right out in the open several yards away from our hiding spot]

L: "Janice!"

[a car flies toward her, but she doesn't move. One of her portals redirects it harmlessly into the side of one of the nearby buildings]

L: "I just want to talk"

[okay, sorry, I said I'd try to keep down the commentary, but I have to take a moment to describe this scene right here: We've got Janice, for all intents and purposes, an angry eldritch goddess floating over the abandoned avenue between rows of skyscrapers, surrounded by a halo of assorted rubble and debris, ready to unleash hell on anyone and everyone. Then there's Lady Lacuna, staring her down, all alone in her dominatrix/mad scientist getup, arms spread in this sort of beseeching gesture]

J: "There is nothing left to talk about!"

L: "Janice please! I know what you're going through."

J [laughing mirthlessly]: "How can you possibly know??"

L: "They're in your head. They're making you relive all the worst moments of your life, aren't they?"

[Janice looks genuinely shocked by this]

[again with the "them", pretty sure it's back to hell dimension tentacle monsters]

L: "They feed on emotion. They're keeping you in a loop because they're hungry. I know because I've been there."

[the debris and stuff starts falling and Janice descends towards ground level]

J: "How do I get them to stop?"

L: "You don't. At least, I haven't found a way. I just had to learn how to figure out how to live with them."

J: "I can't... I don't..."

L: "You think you're alone. You've spent your whole life keeping a safe distance from everyone around you, even as you surrounded yourself with people. You don't know how to ask for help? You don't even know who to ask?"

[I think Janice might be crying at this point, it's kinda hard to tell from where I'm at]

J: "How are you-"

L: "They're in your head, but I'm in theirs. I couldn't tell at first, there was just so much noise, but then a friend reminded me about asking for help and I realized what was going on."

[Lady L takes Janice's hand and presses it to her chest]

L: "Close your eyes... You feel that?"

[Janice shudders and nods]

L: "That's me. That's me at the calm in the center of the storm. Let me help you. Please."

[she leans in close to Janice and whispers something to her that I can't hear (good god, I wish I had some of my drones to know what she said (honestly probably for the best to let them have that moment (but still...))). Janice nods and takes Lady L's hand. A portal opens, not to anywhere on earth, but to tentacle monster hell dimension. Sarah briefly looks back at me and smiles before the two of them step through]

[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: that was the last time I ever saw Lady Lacuna...

I'm just kidding, she comes back every couple weeks for groceries or lab supplies or just to hang out for a little bit. She never stays long though, it's always back to hell dimension. She still won't talk about what goes on over there but she seems happy.

I told this whole story to Emily and she seems just as baffled as me that Sarah and Janice maybe probably ended up together, but she also pointed out that they probably know each other better than most any two people thanks to whatever psychic link they have going on.

I guess I hope they're happy together, wherever they are.]

#Aug-UST #writing prompts #once again not really sure if there's tension being unresolved lol #my writing #writers on tumblr #Ion & Emily #supervillain oc #superheroes #supervillains #writeblr #bisexual #lesbian

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heyiwrotesomethings · 11 months

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hey hey, so trying my luck with the october request.

Since it's spooky time: halloween pumpkin carving date with they/them reader and Miroslava? I miss her. Maybe something like reader feeling jealous bc Miro spends so much time with Itsuki, not knowing that she just helps Miro planning a date she wants to ask the reader out to.

If I get in and you decide to write it: thank you so much!! <3

Carving Out Time

Miroslava Honebami x They/Them Reader

A/N: I just wanna say to the person who asked for that part two to Scholarships that I am sooo sorry it’s taking so long. I just can’t remember what happened in the manga enough to write out something without re-reading that part, but to find the energy to do it is not working out. And now sorry to this person, because now that I’m re-reading the prompt, I’m thinking this might’ve supposed to have been a first date situation and I messed up. Hope you still find it somewhat enjoyable? Sorry if the spacing is as weird to y’all as it looks to me, I’m posting this while in the car on a different device. Word Count: 1,384

“Good morning, Miro!” (Y/n) darted around the corner they had just seen their partner turn mere moments ago, somehow expecting to sneak up on her for a hug from behind, but of course, Miroslava was already staring over her shoulder, golden eyes boring right into (Y/n)’s the second they came into view.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” She replied a small, but genuine smile. “Did you sleep well last night?” She lightly ran a gloved finger over their cheek, “You look tired.”

“I’m just excited that it’s finally Friday.” They yawn. “You know how much I enjoy fall, and the leaves are just right so I’m really hype about spending time with you tonight!”

Miroslava winces almost imperceivably, but having a partner who regularly gambles and is getting better at reading her micro-expressions by the day, (Y/n) mood dampened.

“No way, you have plans? Again?”

Miroslava had been flaking on (Y/n) all week. Worse yet, it was always with Sumeragi Itsuki for some reason. Itsuki was fine, (Y/n) had no real problem with her, but to be put on the back burner for their partner to go off with her doing god knows what time after time made them feel more than a little jealous.

“Yes, (Y/n), I apologize, but I promise Saturday is all yours.”

“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing? Why can’t I come? I promise I’ll stay in the car this time if this has to do with the family “cleaning” business.”

Before Miroslava could confirm that it was not Bami related, Itsuki popped up looking all excited.

“Honebami-san, I got the—“ she noticed (Y/n) standing there and quickly switched gears, something (Y/n) caught and it made them uneasy. “(Y/n), hey! How are things?”

“Fine…” However, the tone (Y/n) was using was indicating that things were indeed not ‘fine’. Not when their partner was once again leaving them high and dry to hang out with the same person she had been hanging out with all week.

Both girls were quite aware of this and had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“So you’re hanging out with Sumeragi again today and I’m not allowed to hang around for a reason you keep neglecting to share with me?”

“I know it looks weird, but it’s nothing bad, I swear!” Itsuki promised.

“Yeah, I believed that excuse the first four times, but now I’m not so sure.”

Miroslava approached (Y/n), placing her hands on either side of (Y/n)’s face, staring deep into their eyes, “It will all become clear tomorrow. I’ll have a car drop by to pick you up. Can you hang on one more day, please, for me?”

(Y/n) tried to hold firm on their position on the matter, but the pure honesty Miroslava’s eyes held made it exceedingly difficult. Finally, they sighed,

“Alright, one more day.”

“Thank you.” Miroslava stroked their cheeks with her thumbs.

“It’s all going to be worth it, you’ll see!” Itsuki chimed in.

(Y/n) managed a small smile, but they still eyed the pair warily. Just what were they doing together that they weren’t allowed to be a part of, nor know about? They went through the rest of the day feeling uneasy, heart clenching jealously every time they would catch a glimpse of Itsuki and Miro throughout the day.

They couldn’t even enjoy the sweet goodbye Miroslava gave them after school that day because watching them leave school together in the same car while (Y/n) was left behind only made the uneasiness and jealousy grow.

They didn’t want to believe something was going on between Itsuki and Miroslava, because their Miro couldn’t possibly do something so distasteful, so heartbreaking, but the more time that passed by, the more the negative little voice in the back of their brain grew. They had another hard time sleeping that night, but not because they were excited about tomorrow, they were anxious for it.

***

They startled out of a stressful dream when their phone started to ring and they cursed when they took note of the time. They were supposed to be out the door almost half an hour ago and now Miro was calling them.

“Hi, sorry, sorry, I over slept. I’m getting out of bed right now.” They said a bit frantically, almost tripping in a tangle of covers.

“Take your time, darling. No need to worry, the driver won’t leave without you. As long as he doesn’t want to find himself at the bottom of the ocean, anyway. So just take your time, wear something comfy that fits the weather and I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, sure, yeah, see you soon.” It was clear (Y/n) was still a bit frazzled as they began digging through their closet for something nice to wear.

“(Y/n), I love you, take your time. I mean it. It’s only fair after I asked you to be so patient this week.”

(Y/n) finally slowed their movements, heart melting at how confident Miroslava sounded when she said she loved them.

“I love you too, I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m looking forward to it. See you soon.”

“See you.”

They hung up and less frantically, but no less quickly, got ready to leave the house. They apologized to the driver for their tardiness and sat on the edge of their seat the entire drive to Miroslava’s house.

When the car slowed to a stop in front of the the lavish home, Miroslava was waiting outside in a cute cream colored sweater, sleek black leggings and cream ankle boots. She looked so pretty and comfy. (Y/n) couldn’t wait to hug her!

When they rolled up to the curb, Miroslava came up to (Y/n)’s door and opened it for them, extending her hand to help them out.

“Welcome, my love.” She kissed their cheek. “I’m glad you made it.”

They got a little dreamy look on their face and smiled, “Me too.”

“Come, there’s much to do.” Miroslava grabbed their hand and lead them through the house to the backyard.

“Wow…!” (Y/n) gasped, they marveled at the changes the backyard had underwent since they had last visited.

There were many cute decorations, but the highlight was probably the lattices decorated with orange, black and white fairy lights. There was a projector screen set up along the fence in front of the outdoor furniture, currently playing a Halloween baking show, but (Y/n) could also see an array of movies sitting nearby. The outdoor kitchenette smelled like cinnamon and sugar. On top of the granite countertop were a few pumpkins of varying size accompanied by an assortment of tools and snacks.

“What do you think? It’s not too much, is it? Itsuki assured me it was perfect, but you know I’m somewhat new to all of this…” Miroslava gestured to the set-up, a faint blush dusting her pale skin.

(Y/n) hugged her tightly. “It is perfect, this is really sweet, thank you so much. I’m sorry for giving you a hard time this week. If I had known…”

“I don’t mind, I can understand why you weren’t happy, I wasn’t happy with having to spend time away from you either. Perhaps next time I should at least tell you it’s a surprise for you instead of being completely tight-lipped.”

(Y/n) squeezed her a bit tighter, “I love you.”

Miroslava melted into the hug, holding them gently, “I love you too. Now, how about we carve some pumpkins?”

“Absolutely!”

They stood next to each other talking and carving the pumpkins while the projector flickered and whirred. When the pumpkins were all lined up and lit, they washed their hands and took a big bowl of snacks to the couch in front of the projector and cuddled beneath the soft and fuzzy throw blankets, stealing a few kisses here and there. Occasionally they’d look back at the row of glowing jack-o-lanterns and chuckle at the more misshapen ones. (Y/n) would have to make sure to thank Itsuki as well for this later.

Laying on the couch in a tangle of limbs and blankets while the leaves rustled overhead and the scents of autumn and candied apple slices wafted over them, (Y/n) began planning their own special date. The fall season wasn’t over yet after all, and the apple slice Miroslava just bit into gave them the perfect idea.

#kakegurui oneshots #kakegurui x reader #miroslava honebami x reader #miroslava x reader #requests #anonymous

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pardonmydelays · 26 days

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clancy tour (watching a livestream) essay 🙏

anon, this question made me so unbelievably happy omg. i just can't get around to the eras tour essay, however, i do feel the need to write, so we're doing this instead.

for the context: i woke up at 5:30 today to watch the livestream of clancy LA show. no, i wasn't there in person. but mentally i was.

please, listen to this incredible playlist while you read my essay (no one's gonna read, it mark my words):

i have decided we will just go through the entire setlist. i don't want to make this too long but i wanna talk about EVERY. SINGLE. SONG. let's fucking go.

OVERCOMPENSATE

so this is when i started crying. who the fuck cries on overcompensate, you would ask... well, me, apparently. i honestly think this is the best opener for both, an album and a show. this song gives me so much serotonin i can't even explain it. i'm always worried about tyler tho because his entrance looks dangerous (the jump, the jump, I AM TALKING ABOUT THE JUMP!). nothing bad happened tho, thankfully. i also noticed he was wearing the other version of clancy jacket today, the one with the hood. not that it's important, but it kinda is. for me at least.

HOLDING ON TO YOU

ok, so if you know me you probably know this is my ultimate favourite twenty one pilots song. and the live performance is even better with the crowd stand at the beginning (i swear to god, it's so incredible to me how much trust tyler has for the clique), clancy mask and lightbulb mic (you can tell tyler has a lot of fun with it), and my favourite part - josh's piano backflip during the bridge of the song. fucking iconic. what's not to love.

VIGNETTE

first thing i want to talk about is the insane transition from holding on to you to vignette. honestly, all transitions are so fucking amazing on clancy tour, it's impressive. now, tyler's little dance during this song is one of the most adorable things i've ever seen (he is such a cat omg) and and and! NEIL BANGING OUT THE TUNES!!! i'll be honest with you, because of this part vignette became one of my favourite songs from clancy and definitely one of my faves from this tour.

CAR RADIO

another one of my favourites. car radio will always hold a very special place in my heart, it's so relatable to me. it makes me so happy that we have a chance to see it being performed in clancy costume (and clancy mask!!!). and when tyler teleports at the end! (also i think he's wearing a totally different jacket in this clip which probably means he has three different clancy jackets, i have no proof tho so i'm just gonna shut up. the video is from LA night one tho. not my show). here's another clip, you can see how he teleported here.

THE JUDGE

ok, so for those who don't know, right before every show the fans in their incredible outfits are being filmed while singing the judge together and every night they show a different video of them singing first verse + chorus and then after that tyler comes out with his ukulele to finish the song. it makes me cry for no reason at all. yes, i cried today too (it just makes me so happy to see all the clikkies singing together and they all look so beautiful always). so what happened today? content warning glitch happened during fan video, you can watch it here, then blurryface tweeted this:

i am losing my goddamn mind over this, people on the livestream were losing their shit when this happened, I STARTED CRYING LIKE A GODDAMN FOOL BECAUSE I'M SO FUCKING EMOTIONAL ABOUT EVERYTHING THIS BAND IS DOING. ugh. i was so right to watch today's livestream. something's gonna happen soon guys. they are warning us.

(i added CUT MY LIP to the playlist but technically it's the judge/cut my lip mashup so there's really not much to say about it)

THE CRAVING + TEAR IN MY HEART

the transition. the goddamn transition!!! it's honestly so fucking cool and probably one of my favourite parts of the tour. i absolutely love all jenna's songs and everyone who says they should not be on the setlist, fuck you forever. in this house we stan all jenna's songs. i usually cry on the craving and tyler is being so silly during tear in my heart - this is my favourite thing in the world. plus, do you really hate the sound of ukulele???

BACKSLIDE

ok, i actually started crying as soon as i realized we're singing backslide now. i love this song so goddamn much, it means the world to me. at one point it was my favourite song from clancy. the chorus breaks my poor little heart every single time and live performance of this song is so emotional... especially at the end when tyler is on his knees (the video is not from tonight's show but it's my favourite one from backslide, please watch it, his vocals here are INSANE). it's like crying for help. i wanna kill myself now. i relate to this song so much. also, backslide is the reason i decided to buy clancy tour tickets, so there's that.

SHY AWAY

oh, thank god this one is on the setlist. you know how much i love scaled and icy and i think out of all the songs from this album shy away is the best one to put on the setlist because the live performance is always so fun!!! don't you shy aWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! the scream is absolutely fucking everything oh my god. actually, i just love when tyler screams. but don't we all.

HEATHENS + NEXT SEMESTER

ok, now don't hate me, please, but i was never the biggest fan of heathens (i don't hate the song, i like it, just not as much as the others. i probably wouldn't cry if it wasn't on the setlist). however, the transition (again!!!) from heathens to next semester is the best goddamn thing in the entire world and i am losing my mind every single time i come across any clip of this moment. please, watch it, this is everything!!! one question tho: i know tyler was playing bass on the platform for next semester and he didn't do that today, did he just stop doing this recently or is it because of what happened yesterday during the show? (not during this song tho, or at least i know nothing about it, but it seems like LA fans absolutely cannot behave and he was definitely being more careful today, more about it later tho).

ROUTINES IN THE NIGHT

oh boy, this is my vigilante shit for real. remember vigilante shit performance from the eras tour and how everyone was losing their shit when they saw taylor doing the choreography with this motherfucking chair? yes. it's basically that except tyler is fully dressed. which is even worse maybe (y'all know how i feel about his clothes for some reason). one of my favourite songs from the album, but after seeing the live performance for the first time i became absolutely obsessed with the song. i was genuinely scared today because this is basically what happened last night in LA (i swear to god people are acting like fucking animals) and i noticed that tyler was being much more careful this time: he wasn't coming so close to people, and honestly good for him. he didn't even let them touch him during this part. i can't blame him. i feel so bad for what happened. hope he's ok.

ADDICT WITH A PEN + MIGRAINE + FOREST + FALL AWAY

my favourite mashup in the entire fucking world. but before we get into it, please this is so fucking funny and adorable. so basically, before playing the mashup, tyler sat by the piano and he said "currently i'm temperature hot. so i would want to take my jacket off, i promise not to turn on all the dads tonight" and then this happened. poor guy didn't know what to do LMAO. he's such a cutie, please watch the video, he's so adorable i can't. he's also the funniest person on earth. back to the topic, the mashup... i am such a slut for their old songs and this mashup is absolutely fucking insane. the song i love the most out of those is, of course, forest. according to tyler, this song is so old it basically doesn't exist. fuck you, tyler joseph. i can't believe i'm going to hear it live tho, holy shit. i will be fucking SOBBING during this part, i just know that.

MULBERRY STREET

this is such a fun song to play live and one of my favourite moments. you can tell how much fun tyler has each time they play it, also this! this is everything!!! he's always so happy when this happens, he trained us well hahaha. it's so fun omg. can't wait to be a part of it. this has always been one of my favourite songs from scaled and icy so i'm glad they decided to keep it on the setlist.

NAVIGATING

get in, losers. we are entering the lore now. ok, honestly, this part of the tour is absolutely everything to me. torchbearer with his torch? and clancy jacket?? coming to pick him up so they can perform while dema is burning??? AAAAAAAAAAAAAA. oh my GODD. also, navigating is so special to me (i picked this url for a reason) and live performance of this song is fucking fire. watch it. watch the clip. just watch the goddamn clip, will you? we all know this song is on the setlist because of josh, so everybody say thank you josh. also you can tell tyler is very emotional about this song and i just wanna give him a hug. oh my god. i can't wait to hear it live. this will fix me (it will probably make me worse).

NICO AND THE NINERS + HEAVYDIRTYSOUL

the MOTHERFUCKING transition!!! i know i say this a lot but i am such a slut for all the transitions on this tour, oh my god. they are so good. also i absolutely fucking love how we're still in the lore and also, the visuals are absolutely incredible, and also, nico and the niners is one of my favourite songs (the one that got me into their music actually) and also heavydirtysoul live is INSANE and also-

MY BLOOD

ok, i'm sorry, i keep forgetting that this song is on the setlist. it's not one of my favourites (don't fucking hate me, i like it, it's just not my fave). i will be very much singing it at the concert tho cause it's so good live. not much to say about it tho.

OLDIES STATION

boy, here we go. so i started crying at the very beginning of the song and honestly i have no idea how i'm going to handle this live. i am so very normal about this song. it means everything to me. the worst part of it tho was when during the song tyler said "thank you so much for using our music. you've saved us in ways you'll never know". OH MY GOD. i started weeping even more. it's like... their music saved US but we also saved THEM and i need 3-5 business days to recover after that. good lord. listen, i love slowtown and i'm sad that it's not part of the setlist anymore, but i love oldies station a hundred times more and that was a good change me thinks.

FAKE YOU OUT + GUNS FOR HANDS

putting those two together just because i can and i will. vessel is such a great album and it makes me so happy that those two are on the setlist. screaming "our brains are sick but that's okay" with the entire arena is going to fix me, for sure. also, here's the clip of tyler messing up the lyrics (he basically went kjbufbfkkjejkebfkjk after that lmao). can't blame him. the rap part is so fast. i died tho. he's so funny, please.

LAVISH

i can't even begin to explain how happy i am to have this one on the setlist. it's the funniest moment on tour and i love watching them being stupid on stage. also, jOsH iS sHiRtLeSs. the walk, THE WALK LMAO. the best choreography you've ever seen. i just love seeing them so silly and happy and this is everything. i paid a lot of money to see this live. i'm definitely not gonna regret this.

RIDE

so the thing i love about this tour is that every single night while performing this song tyler brings a different kid to sing the chorus with him (it's the equivalent of giving the hat during 22 on the eras tour i would say). tonight we had an adorable girl named callie (if i'm correct). she did so well! also i was giggling so much when tyler said she's cute (he was giggling too hdshfbhekj). i just love watching him with kids, it's so sweet!!! also she had a great beanie with band's logo, i want one too. please watch the clip of them singing together!

PALADIN STRAIT

i was crying. i was crying so much, i love this song and the live performance is so emotional. i put the song bandito on the playlist, because there's this moment in the song where tyler is singing the bridge of paladin strait and josh is singing bandito at the same time and OH MY GOD. DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS FOR THE LORE??? THIS IS SO CLEVER AND I AM LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND EVERY SINGLE TIME I THINK ABOUT IT. please, watch. this is sick as fuck. you don't understand. do you even understand? OR AM I THE ONLY ONE I KNOW???? i'm sorry i just can't i can't i am defeated i am absolutely insane about this part. also, the ending when they are showing the clip of paladin strait music video combined with other clips which looks like a flashback from clancy's life and his never ending battle with nico? the fuck??? and then we go straight to...

JUMPSUIT

the motherfucking coat. not gonna say anything else. just. the coat. oh dear lord. now i am temperature hot.

MIDWEST INDIGO

now my favourite part of midwest indigo is tyler taking off his coat very slowly. because he fucking knows what he's doing. but also, this song is so special to me. i know he wrote it as a love letter to ohio and i'm not even american but somehow this song always makes me think about my hometown. the live performance is so great. the beginning with the bass! he's adorable!

STRESSED OUT

"i don't want stressed out on the setlist it's so overplayed" kill yourself. i love stressed out because i have good taste. it's fun. it's a great song with great lyrics and you fuckers hate it only because it's popular. just shut up. shut the fuck up. in this house we actually enjoy listening to good songs. i personally want it to be on every setlist. if stressed out has no fans it means i killed myself. i'm dead. i'm gone. stressed out defender forever and always. also clancy tour version is incredible. just watch it and shut the fuck up.

TREES

again, i was so scared about my boys because of what happened yesterday in LA. people are fucking animals. i'm so glad, because tyler actually decided to call them out for this and seems like it was much better today. but still. guys please, behave, cause if you're not gonna start acting responsible they are going to stop performing like this. it's still insane compared to the opening night of clancy tour where people didn't even come closer until tyler told them to. i also just noticed now that tyler's t-shirt had black font today (the previous one had red font) for the first time. i think i was just too tired to notice this before. there's not much i can tell you about trees, because you just simply have to be there to understand. it's a perfect song to end the show (for those who don't know: they always close their shows with this one), it's something i experienced live once before and i can't even compare it to anything. i wasn't even crying. my soul literally just left my body. trust me, there's absolutely nothing like trees live. i can show you thousands of clips and it will never be enough. nobody does it like them. seriously. this is the moment. the moment of all moments. i am in fact crying now...

TO SUM IT UP:

great show. 10/10. would recommend. i'm going to see them live in 223 days. this is the thing that makes me want to stay alive. yes. i need to stay alive for this. whoever sent me this ask, thank you. it means the world to me. i need to talk about them because it's the only joy in my life now. they are the reason i want to push on through. also, if you made it this far, thank you. i love you. and i'm sorry.

#most of the clips are not from tonight's show #i needed them for context #also they are all really short so please please please watch them for me #it only took me three hours to write this #i have no life #oh well #it was so much fun to write tho and to look for all those clips ahhhhh #anyway #go stream my playlist #i promise you it's good #also follow me on spotify if you want #i'm gonna go die now #twenty one pilots #clancy tour #why do you write like you're running out of time*

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