#versus just REALIZING THINGS at the end

[mermaidsirennikita]

in romcoms today you get like this chaste kiss at the end while they sorta get together

in Notting Hill (1999), the leads kiss, have a little thing without fucking and then she leaves for her douchey boyfriend, meet up again way later and have a wonderful time and FUCK, then there's an issue and she leaves again, and then Hugh Grant walks through several seasons while Ain't No Sunshine plays, then there's another little misunderstanding moment + a grovel from her, THEN a RACE FOR YOUR LOVE bit

and not once was I bored, I was iNVIGORATED throughout it

[kumomist]

intense insane staring into the distance and still crying over north no2

[riansdiary]

YOU'RE NOT "TRYING TO MANIFEST" OR "WAITING TO MANIFEST", YOU HAVE IT NOW!

I realized something after reading through Solar Subs' law of assumption guide again.

I think the only thing stopping everyone is the fact that we see the lack in the 3d and consider it real or want it to change too but what you have to understand is that changing the 3d is not our job. You just have to keep getting comfortable with your new state and maintain it by living in the end or in the state of the wish fulfilled.

This is the best one so far that I thought of about the 3d in terms of manifesting. You affirm and somehow look for it in the 3d. What do we do to stop that?

DISMISS IT BECAUSE THAT'S NOT THE REALITY YOU ARE IN ANYMORE AND DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO IT.

Again, attention is powerful. Ever heard of the saying "Whatever you focus on grows"? This is true for manifesting as well. Whatever you are paying attention to, you will get more of it so pay attention to your new reality and live in it. The 3d is not your job so you don't need to do anything about it. Don't wait because you have it now. Don't assume the 3d is real and let yourself take your own desires from yourself.

This is the comparison of someone manifesting while living in the 3d versus one who lives in the 4d or living in the end.

Sarah lives in the 3d:

Sarah wants to manifest pretty hands so she affirms.

Sarah: I have such pretty hands. My hands are so delicate and soft.

After that, Sarah continued on with her day and she looked at her hand at one point.

Sarah: Ugh! Where is it? Why is it not here yet? This is so annoying!

She lived in the 3d and assumed that the 3d is her reality. That's because she paid attention to it.

Now, Tilly lives in the end or 4d all the time. She also wants to manifest pretty hands.

Sarah: I have pretty hands. My hands are so beautiful and delicate. I have my desired hands.

Sarah goes through her day and sees her hands at one point. She observes it but she knows she doesn't live in that reality anymore so she dismisses it and doesn't pay attention to it.

She decided to remind herself that she already has it and she continues to do that.

Sarah: I know I have pretty hands now and I do! That's what is true for me. I already have it now. It's already done.

This is exactly what I'm doing right now and it feels so good! I don't have to worry about me reacting because I know it's not my job to change it. I already have it and that's it. I continue to live in the reality where I already have my desires and constantly remind myself of that fact. It's freeing because I don't have to be so anxious and scared of the 3d, time and any circumstances. I just observe the 3d, know it's not my job to change it, know I don't live in that reality anymore and continue living in the end and remind myself throughout the day that I have it now. I don't find it outside of me because I know I have it now.

Do this for a week or how much you want and tell me your experience!

Yours Truly,

Lady Rian Whistledown 💋

[nakylvr]

Hi can I request a Daniela from katseye with fem reader where she has a crush on the reader but thinks that she’s dating one of the other girls. Like with angst but a happy ending. Also I love your work!!

why yes of course 😋 i love daniela so much and this is a great req thank you so much!! 🫶 i think i got a bit carried away, sorry!

— MISCOMMUNICATION

daniela avanzini (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: daniela has a crush on you but thinks you're dating one of the other girls, which causes some miscommunication between you two leaving you both confused

warnings/tags: language, angst with a happy ending, they both are dumb and oblivious, wingwoman lara cause she's a real one, lots of miscommunication, none of them are idols just a group of bffs

wc: 3.5 k

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

daniela wasn't the best at talking about her feelings. to be more specific, romantic feelings. she could discuss her normal feelings but as soon as romantic emotions were brought up, she would be unable to say a word. when she had a crush it was only worse, leading her to not even wanting to discuss anything love related while she had feelings for someone else. she wasn't scared, exactly. for she didn't know what she was feeling. it was hard for her to understand.

daniela has had a crush on you for some time now. she knew she did from the very beginning, she just tried to ignore it, believing it would go away if she didn't think about it. that didn't work. because the more she was around you, the harder she fell for you. you were close with all the girls including daniela, but there was a slight problem that kept daniela from saying or doing anything. 

she genuinely thought you were with sophia. 

you and sophia had known each other prior to meeting the other girls, and you two were extremely close, practically acting like a couple whenever you two were together. while daniela never heard any official words like the two of you saying you were dating or saw any quick kisses of any sort, she thought it anyway. you two were always together, called each other loving petnames, and did pda that neither of you would do with anyone else. so, she suffered in silence alone for a while. 

it was rough for daniela, especially when all the girls hung out together. she would stare from afar with sad eyes whenever you were with sophia, because in her mind she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance, so she didn’t bother even trying. she kept her feelings inside, dwelling on them alone instead of talking about them, even with the other girls who she knew would undoubtedly support her. she kept it a secret the whole time, nearly wanting to die in the process the more she was around you. 

you two were close, but not as close as she wanted. you didn’t know that, though, for she never once showed those kinds of feelings towards you. you thought she purely saw you as a friend, and while you weren’t completely okay with that, you didn’t say anything that could change everything. 

the silly thing was, you had a crush on daniela for nearly the same amount of time as hers on you. however, you didn’t realize how your closeness with your best friend sophia could be seen to other people, looking like a couple when both of you agreed you would probably kill each other if you were actually dating. this caused some problems that you didn’t notice. you failed to notice the few signs daniela showed that expressed she liked you. you didn’t notice the longing stares while you were talking with others, you didn’t notice her trying to initiate more serious conversations or physical touch with you, and you didn’t even notice the difference in the way she looked at you versus the others. but, she also failed to notice yours. 

there were a few conversations you two had that almost led to confessions but something would happen which resulted in it never coming out. there was one specifically that made daniela think that maybe just maybe she would have a chance. 

you were sitting on the couch at lara’s house, looking at your phone as you scrolled aimlessly on instagram. all the girls were there to hang out and have fun, but you had been exhausted recently and didn’t want to get caught up in the usual loudness that happened when you all hung out together. so, you were sitting there on your phone, not noticing daniela looking over at you for a decent amount of time before she eventually walked over to you. 

“hey,” is all daniela says to you. 

you look up from your phone to daniela and a small smile forms on your face. “hey,” you say in return. 

there’s an awkward silence that fills the air between you two, and you both can feel it but are too scared to do anything about it. 

“you okay? you’ve been sitting here alone for the past like, hour,” daniela speaks again, a faintly worried expression on her face. 

“mm,” you hum, shrugging your shoulders. “i’ve just been exhausted i guess,” you admit. “but, i didn’t want to not hang out, so i still came.” 

daniela takes the seat next to you, leaning back into the couch as she glances over at you. “has something been happening? or do you just mean in general?” she asks. 

“just in general,” you answer, putting your phone down next to you. “life is kinda a lot right now.” 

“i get that,” daniela nods, agreeing with your words. she doesn’t know what else to say, struggling to find the words just from sitting next to you. she has never felt more awkward around someone else in her whole life, and she wished the ground would just swallow her up so she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. daniela feels a sudden weight on her right shoulder, and she glances over to see you resting your head on her, making her eyes slightly widen and her cheeks flush pink. her whole body freezes and she isn’t even sure if she’s breathing at this moment. 

“i’m really grateful to have you around, y’know,” you say quietly, but loud enough for only her to hear. 

daniela’s face heats up more at the barely audible words coming from you, and she swears her heart is going to beat out of her chest if you say anything else remotely like that. “i’m grateful too,” she says slowly so she doesn’t stutter or show how nervous she is. 

you reach for one of her hands and hold it in yours, cherishing the warmth of her skin radiating onto yours as you talk again. “i hope we can be around each other for a long time, dani. i would really like it.” 

daniela is sure she’s going to pass out any moment now. with your hand now holding hers and the words leaving your mouth, the nickname she only lets you use, she was definitely going to. “i-i would like that also,” she replies, mentally cursing at herself for stuttering like a loser. she can feel your breathing change as you lean against her, and when she looks down at you for the second time, she realizes you’re asleep. her eyes go wide again and her face turns even redder when she realizes this, and she’s not sure what to do as she sits on the couch. 

daniela looks over at manon who is already looking at you two with a grin plastered on her face and phone out facing you both to take a picture and she mouths ‘what do i do?’. manon simply shrugs, taking the picture and giving a thumbs up to daniela. “i dunno, but you got this!” she says encouragingly. 

daniela rolls her eyes at manon’s response and watches her walk away back to where the other girls were. she looks down at you again and lets out a short sigh. “i guess i’m staying here,” she mumbles to herself. 

unfortunately for daniela, you never spoke of that conversation after it happened. she thought maybe she pushed it too far even if it wasn’t that big of a push, and so she started avoiding you. she didn’t respond as fast to your text messages, she wouldn’t look you in the eye when you were hanging out with the girls, she would make up excuses to leave so she wouldn’t have to talk to you. she thought she fucked up if you didn’t want to talk about that moment of sincerity between you two. 

meanwhile you had thought you did something wrong if it meant daniela started avoiding you. you had thought you made her uncomfortable with your words that day and that that’s the reason she was avoiding you, so you didn’t do anything. you didn’t confront her about it, too scared that she would admit you made her uncomfortable and didn’t want to talk anymore. there was an even worse awkwardness between you both that all the girls immediately noticed and decided to try and help the best they could. 

“what if we did something to make daniela jealous?” manon suggests to the other girls. 

“would that even do anything?” megan responds. “i’ve never seen her get any type of jealous.” 

“maybe not jealous, but she stares like a kicked puppy whenever yn and sophia are together,” lara says. 

“i could try something,” sophia speaks up. “yn and i are already close, so i’m sure if i did something extra it would make her jealous.” 

“is this a good idea?” yoonchae pipes in. 

“possibly not, but i can’t stand this miscommunication between them any longer,” lara replies. 

“agreed,” they all say. 

so, later that night the girls brought (forced) you two to attend a party with them. daniela was standing in a corner with lara, looking as if she wanted to die inside just being at the party while you were talking with sophia on the other side of the room. 

“lighten up a bit, daniela! this is a party,” lara says to daniela over the loud music. 

“i’m not having fun,” daniela responds in a blank tone. she takes a glance around the room, not noticing the hand signal lara gave sophia while you’re back was turned, and when daniela’s eyes land on you and sophia, they narrow into a glare. 

sophia has an arm wrapped around your waist, leaning close to whisper something into your ear and you laugh, gently shoving her as she presses a quick kiss on your cheek. daniela feels a mix of anger and sadness as she watches unaware of the other girls trying to see what will happen. she misses lara doing another hand signal of sorts to sophia who decides to go to plan b after seeing daniela do nothing. sophia’s arm remains around you as you two talk, and she pushes some of your hair out of your face and turns so her head is blocking your face, making it appear as if you two are kissing but in reality, she is still just normally talking to you. however, what daniela thought she saw made her immediately start stomping off in a random direction somewhere to get out of the house. 

you catch daniela storming off out of the corner of your eye and quickly tell sophia you’ll be right back before hurrying after daniela who made her way outside of the house onto the porch. 

“hey!” you call out, following behind her. “are you leaving already?” 

daniela stops in her tracks as soon as she hears your voice, and she simply just nods her head. 

“why?” you ask when you reach her, standing in front of her. 

“i didn’t even want to come,” daniela answers. “why did you even follow me?”

“what?” you let out in response to her question. “because, you looked angry and i wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

daniela scoffs and shakes her head. “just go back to sophia. don’t worry about me,” she says. 

confusion grows on your facial expression at her words, not sure where this is suddenly coming from. “what are you talking about?” 

“nothing,” daniela shakes her head again, her eyes not even meeting yours. 

“no, you don’t get to do that,” you say in a more serious tone. “you don’t get to just say ‘nothing’ after avoiding me for weeks. what is going on?” 

“nothing,” daniela repeats. 

you bite your tongue from saying something you don’t want to say, and instead just nod your head. “fine, then,” you say, making daniela finally look at you. “fine. i won’t bother trying anymore. you won’t tell me why you’re avoiding me, so i won’t try. i don’t even have a general idea why you’re acting like this but, do what you want. just…just leave me alone unless you’re going to apologize.” you finish, letting out a sigh and shaking your head before starting to walk back to the house. 

daniela stands in silence as she watches you walk past her, and she reaches her hand out and grabs your arm. “yn, wait!” she says quickly. 

“don’t bother, daniela,” the scoff you let out matches hers that she did earlier in the conversation that makes daniela want to cry. you pry your arm out of her grip and walk back inside the house. 

daniela stands outside for a few minutes in silence, before mumbling curses under her breath and hitting herself on the head for what she did. “fucking stupid, stupid, stupid,” she mutters to herself.  

needless to say, that plan didn’t really work. in fact, it made things worse between you two. the girls realized it the day after when they all went to hang out and you and daniela didn’t even say hello to each other. they knew then that their plan didn’t work and they instead fucked it up more. the girls didn’t know how to fix this. there was a tension in the air whenever you and daniela were in the same room, and it was evident neither of you were going to talk to each other anytime soon. 

it wasn’t until daniela was talking with lara one day that she was told you weren’t dating sophia, and she was shocked needless to say. it’s also when daniela realized just how badly she had fucked up. 

“y’know, if you have a crush on her you should just say it,” lara says to daniela, sitting next to her while on her phone. the two were in lara’s room and daniela had finally just admitted that she had a crush on you, to which lara was trying not to react too much to make it like she didn’t know even though it was incredibly obvious. 

“i can’t do that! are you crazy?!” daniela immediately responds in an exclamation. “she’s with sophia, why on earth would i confess if she’s literally dating someone else?!’

lara looks up from her phone and at daniela with a confused look on her face. “what?” she asks. there was no way daniela thought you were dating sophia, right? 

“i’m not going to ruin the friendship i already have with both of them because my dumbass caught feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship!” daneiala says, throwing her hands up in the air and slouching back against the couch. 

“wait, wait, wait. stop right there,” lara waves her hand from side to side and puts her phone down. “do you think yn is dating sophia?” she asks daniela seriously. she wanted to slap some sense into daniela right now for how dumb she was to think you were dating sophia, but she resisted it and kept it to questioning her instead. 

daniela looks back at lara with confusion on her own face at the question. “yes?” she answers, it coming out as a question. “they are literally together all the time and call each other all those lovey-dovey names and shit!” 

“oh my god,” lara tries her best not to laugh out loud at the thought of daniela genuinely thinking you were with sophia, but a smile pulled on her lips. “yn and sophia aren’t dating, daniela.” 

daniela’s eyes quickly widen in surprise at lara’s words. “are you joking?” she questions. 

“no, they literally aren’t,” lara shakes her head. “sure, they basically act like a couple but no, they aren’t actually dating. they would not work out together if they did,” she lets out a chuckle at the end. 

daniela sits in silence for a few moments, trying to process the newfound information given to her. this whole time she thought you and sophia were together, just to find out you actually weren’t. this was a good thing, she tried to remain positive. this meant she could come up with a confession and hope it works out. 

so, after a week of trying to figure out what to do, she decided to finally talk to you. she tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. so she showed up at your house randomly instead. 

daniela rang the doorbell of your house, standing in front of the door with flowers in one hand and a bag of food in the other. she glanced behind her at the car which lara was sitting in the driver seat with the passenger window down watching daniela. lara gives daniela a thumbs up with a wide smile on her face, shouting to her, “you got this, girl!” which makes daniela turn back around to the door in embarrassment. she waits another minute before determining whether or not she should just leave the items and run off, but then the door unlocks and opens, and you stand there in front of her. 

“oh,” you let out in surprise at seeing her standing there. “what are you doing here? and why do you have those?” you question, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms over your chest. 

the tone in your voice makes daniela want to curl up in a ball and die right here. she can tell you’re pissed off she showed up unannounced, though technically she did text you and tell you she would be coming, whether you read it or not was another question. she’s sure you could see how nervous she was, but your expression remained blank if you did notice. “uh, well, yo-you said to leave you alone until i apologize so i’m…here to apologize,” she responds anxiously, her eyes struggling to lock with yours. 

“mm,” you hum. “fine,” you say, opening the door wider and walking back inside. 

daniela stands there for a few seconds, quickly looking back at the car behind her before hurrying after you inside. you close the door behind her and walk to your living room without saying a word, and daniela follows behind you to the couch. 

“uh i got you some food from that expensive place we got when we all went out for your birthday,” daniela says awkwardly, setting the bag of food and flowers down on the coffee table. “and the flowers because i remembered you said you liked them,” she mumbles afterwards. 

despite your initial attempt at being mad at her, the guilty look on her face and evident anxiety in her voice makes that vanish much faster than you anticipated it to. “thank you,” you say, sitting down on the couch. “you can sit, you don’t have to stand there awkwardly.” 

daniela sits down beside you as soon as you say she can, her hands resting on her knees. “i’m uh i’m sorry for avoiding you, and for making you upset with me. i…i won’t say i don’t know why i did it because that would be a lie. i know why i did it. i just didn’t ever say it because i was scared. i didn’t want you to get mad at me when i said it so i never did,” she starts, looking down at the ground. 

“okay…” your voice trails off as you listen to her. “what do you want to say?” you ask. 

daniela takes a deep breath before saying it quickly. “i’ve had a crush on you ever since we met but i didn’t say anything because the whole time i thought you were dating sophia but now i found out you weren’t and all of that was basically for nothing and i feel so stupid now.” 

she says it so fast you can barely keep up with what she’s saying, but when she’s finished your eyes are wide. “wait, you thought sophia and i were together?” you say with confusion. 

“yeah,” daniela mumbles in embarrassment. 

“so you never confessed your feelings for me because of that?” you ask. 

daniela nods her head, still not looking at you. 

you let out a quiet sigh and grab one of her hands which makes her look at you. “i forgive you for avoiding me, but you really could’ve just talked to me about it and i would’ve been honest with you. that reason being because i like you also,” you say, a small smile on your face. 

“you what?” daniela questions, looking at you with shock. “are you serious?”

“yeah,” you nod your head. “i thought you hated me or something when you started avoiding me so i didn’t bother trying to confess.” 

“oh thank god!” daniela exclaims, a smile making its way onto her face. “i was so worried the whole way here thinking you would slam the door in my face which would’ve been so embarrassing but this is so much better.” 

you can’t help but laugh at her words. “well to be honest you immediately won me over when i saw the flowers and food so,” you admit sheepishly. 

“i knew it was a good idea!” daniela says, proud of herself for coming up with it. 

“it was,” you reply. “so, now that it’s established i’m very much not dating sophia and we like each other, do you want to stay the night and we can have a little first date?”

a wide smile is on daniela’s face and she quickly nods. “of course.” 

[infiniteglitterfall]

I do realize this is a real niche post but I cannot tell you how many damn times over the past 10 months I've seen gentiles tell Jews some version of, "Your own holy book SAYS God doesn't want you to have a country yet!"

And it's such an incredibly blatant and weirdly specific tell that they're not part of something that grew from progressive grassroots, but something based on right-wing astroturfing.

1. Staying in your own lane is a pretty huge progressive principle.

Telling people in another group that their deity said they couldn't do X is, I think, as far as you can get from your own lane.

2. It's also very clearly Not In Your Own Lane because I've never seen anyone actually be able to EITHER quote the passage they're thinking of, OR cite where it is.

It's purely, "I saw somebody else say this, and it seemed like it would make me win the debate I wasn't invited to."

3. It betrays a complete ignorance of Jewish culture and history.

Seriously? You don't know what you're referencing, its context, or even what it specifically says, but you're... coming to a community that reads and often discusses the entire Torah together each year, at weekly services... who have massive books holding generations of debate about it that it takes 7 years to read, at one page per day....

And saying, "YOUR book told you not to!"

I've been to services where we discussed just one word from the reading the whole time. The etymology. The connotations. The use of it in this passage versus in other passages.

And then there is the famous saying, "Ask two Jews, get three opinions." There is a culture of questioning and discussion and debate throughout Judaism.

You think maybe, in the decades and decades of public discussion about whether to buy land in Eretz Yisrael and move back there; whether it should keep being an individual thing, or keep shifting to intentional community projects; what the risks were; whether it should really be in Argentina or Canada or someplace instead; how this would be received by the Jews and gentiles already there, how to respect their boundaries, how to work with them before and during; and whether ending up with a fuckton of Jews in one place might not be exactly as dangerous for them as it had always been everywhere else....

You think NOBODY brought up anything scriptural? Nobody looked through the Torah, the Nevi'im, the Ketuvim, or the Talmud for any thoughts about any of this?? It took 200 years and some rando in the comments to blow everyone's minds???

4. It relies on an unspoken assumption that people can and should take very literal readings of religious texts and use them to control others.

And a sense of ownership and power over those texts, even without any accompanying knowledge about what they say.

It's kind of a supercessionist know-it-all vibe. It reads like, "I know what you should be doing. Because even if I'm not personally part of a fundamentalist branch of a related religion, the culture I'm rooted in is."

Bonus version I found when I was looking for an example. NOBODY should do this:

There are a lot of people who pull weird historical claims like "It SAYS Abraham came from Chaldea! That's Iraq!"

Like, first of all, a group is indigenous to a land if it arose as a people and culture there, before (not because of) colonization.

People aren't spontaneously spawning in groups, like "Boom! A new indigenous people just spawned!!"

People come from places. They go places. Sometimes, they gel as a new community and culture. Sometimes, they bop around for a while and eventually assimilate into another group.

Second: THE TORAH IS NOT A HISTORY TEXTBOOK OMFG.

It's an oral history, largely written centuries after the fact.

There is a TON of historical and archaeological research on when and where the Jewish culture originated, how it developed over time, etc. It's extremely well-established.

Nobody has to try to pull what they remember from Sunday school for this argument.

[twobellsilence]

I genuinely can't understand why some people still think of Anya as a clumsy, squeamish, incompetent bundle of nerves after finishing the game. Like you'd think that, even before the end, players would realize that Jimmy is a very unreliable narrator, what with his manipulative tendencies, the fact that he's literally hallucinating every other scene, and how different the rest of the crew seems to act from Curly's perspective. But no, many seem to take this version of Anya at face value, and it's very sad because not only is she the most important character in the game, but that description of her falls apart once you actually think about her for a split second!

Anya kept Curly, a severe burn victim and amputee, alive with basic medical supplies. This means she had to take care of him tirelessly, debride his wounds, set up and change his IV, change his bandages, set and clean a bedpan for him... Would a squeamish person be able to do that? A clumsy person who constantly forgets about things? Would an incompetent woman who, according to Jimmy, isn't even worth her title as a nurse, be able to take care of such a high-risk patient that needs tending to like clockwork? No, of course not! Anya is driven. Dedicated. Impossibly strong. This isn't just any patient, but her captain, someone who was clearly important to her and then tried to kill everyone (allegedly), which would no doubt add an extra layer of complexity to working with him in this context. And yet he's still alive and breathing and in top shape all things considered.

The only two things that point to her being incompetent is her inability to enter medical school - the reasons why are never so much as mentioned, but Anya herself says she has no savings, and I haven't really seen anyone speculate it could be because of money, not necessarily her lack of skill - and her inability to give Curly painkillers, which clearly triggers an intense trauma response from her, so it's understandable that she'd seek help from someone else to do it. And then there's the fact that it's not just anyone, but her abuser. Would an incompetent person steel herself and try to convince her RAPIST, someone she's so scared of she literally hid the only gun on the ship so he wouldn't be able to take it, to give her patient painkillers? She could've stalled. Could've straight up given up on trying to give Curly his meds. But she would rather face Jim head on than let that happen, because she's brave, and she knows what she's doing, and refuses to let even her very real trauma get in the way of her duty.

See what I mean? It's easy to see her simply as a nervous person, who spaces out and mopes and can't do something as basic as give a guy some pills. But that's the thing - it's easy. Once you go a little further, once you spot the discrepancies between her apparent personality versus her actions and the way she behaved during Curly's sections, you begin to realize Jim is wrong about her, and you are, too.

For a fandom that likes to overanalyze anything (as you should with a game like this), it's genuinely sad how the same effort isn't always extended to Anya.

[throneofsapphics]

remember everything that we'd die for

cazriel x reader

summary: Hybern attacks Velaris, you're not where Cassian and Azriel expected you to be.

warnings: injury, death, angst

a/n: the acomaf blurb style rewrite temptation is strong

By all means, it was one of the most beautiful days of the year. Until you were called into work. Not that you minded your job, the bookstore was a peaceful place, but some days you just wanted to rest. Considering both of your mates were busy, it was probably a good thing this happened, saving you from a full day of worrying. 

Fate was tricky, you knew that. Despite all previous signs pointing towards a peaceful life in a city known for its safety, not everyone could escape the scythe of the afterlife hanging over them. Your scythe was looking an awful lot like the soldiers from Hybern Azriel and Cassian had described, blotting out the beautiful sky. 

“Get inside,” you pushed the door open, ushering the panicked people through. “If they break through, go out the back,” you’d firmly instructed your coworker earlier before retrieving the rusted blade you kept under the front desk. Your mates would throw a hissy fit over that. Two knives, gifted to you by them, were tucked into your clothing. 

A little girl pressed her hands against the window, her mother dragged her back. You hoped you conveyed your appreciation in the brief meeting of your eyes, all you saw in hers was gratitude that made you sick to your stomach. You were no savior. You were more likely to be their damnation. Perhaps fate or destiny took you to work that day, you just prayed the people inside the building made it. 

With a store full of people behind you, you tapped into your magic for the first time in years, perhaps decades, and let the wall rise as you stepped beyond it. A golden sheen now covered the building like a second skin. 

You wished you could’ve had one last day with them. Or even just an hour. 

-

As Hybern’s soldiers fell, Azriel took solace in the fact that you were in their home, safely warded. He knew, not far away from him, that Cassian was doing the same thing. Later, he’d question why his shadows had failed him, for the first time. 

-

The first grey scaled being landed in front of you, took one look at the blade in your hand, and laughed before calling out in a language you half understood. Only three others landed. 

Righteous, sweet, anger filled every nook and crevice of your body and mind. Breathing out, you let enough of it fade to keep a clear mind. 

“Losing your head is the fastest way to get killed,” Cassian’s voice echoed in your mind. They may have taught you a few things, but you were no trained warrior. Tears built in the corners of your eyes. Was this really how it would end for you? 

-

As his blade toppled the head of one soldier, his magic crushing another, Cassian counted his lucky stars it was your day off, but he wouldn’t find true peace until he managed to lay eyes on you and confirm you were safe. 

-

Like something out of a story book, you felt rather than saw your magic sneak up the blade, coating it in what must be a golden iridescence. You didn’t dare look, didn’t dare give away that one precious piece of knowledge that might give you some kind of edge. 

Despite the training you’d received from your mates, four versus one was not good odds. Tilting your eyes to the blotted sky in silent prayer to the mother, you waited for your opponents to give something away. Time, you needed to buy time for someone else to get here. 

It took three dead enemy bodies for you to realize help was not coming. Your arms shook as they held the blade, the magic on it already sputtering. 

The first knick hit your shoulder, blood pooling around the cloth of your off white top. 

Dying was absolutely unacceptable. You had too much to live for.

If you died, you doomed the people behind your shield, the ones counting on you to keep them safe. You had a store full of younglings, females, and males all counting on you. 

This couldn’t be your end, you thought as you reached for the knife tucked at your waist, dodging another blow. 

Your aim had always been good, it wouldn’t, couldn’t fail you now. 

The knife flew from your fist as a blow hit your head, hard enough darkness took you. Like a marionette doll, you crumbled to the pavement. As the sky turned a familiar and safe dark, the golden shield behind you faded, and you couldn’t tell if you were a failure. 

-

As Rhys’s magic cleared the city, a black shadow wisped around his ear, whispering one of his greatest fears. 

Hurt, she’s hurt. 

Azriel shot through the sky, a blur of black, aiming right for where Cassian scanned the horizon. He looked up as Azriel slowed just enough to approach, the panic in his eyes must’ve made the message clear. Few things could make him panic. 

“Where. Is. She?” Cassian said, jaw clenched. 

Work, another shadow curled around his ear, work. 

“The store.” 

He clasped Cassian’s forearm, shadows transporting them the short distance to the city proper.

They landed quietly, but their steps were near thunderous as they approached, the crowd clearing for them, words of thanks flying past their ears. 

A few children hid inside the bookstore, he could feel the remains of your magic, a sensation he hadn’t known in years, something you generally kept to yourself, brought to the light by these ancient horrors. 

Azriel kept his head clear enough by focusing on how his shadows said hurt not dead. Why the hell did you have to go to work today of all days? He’d kill whoever called you in. Gladly. Cassian might even help him. 

“Clear out,” a voice shouted, he looked out to see a healer he recognized hovering over your form, looking at him and Cassain. 

The crowd parted before he needed to shove their way through. 

Azriel’s knees hit the pavement on your other side, Cassian right next to him. 

The healer didn’t complain at the shadows now swarming over your body, reporting back to him on every little detail. 

A blow to the side of your head, one on the back of your head, likely from hitting the ground, a wound on your shoulder. Unconscious, no doubt you’d have a concussion, but right now you were still breathing. 

Cassian asked all of the questions to the healer, his restraint at her touch and magic a sign of your century old mating bond. A hundred years ago they would’ve been at her throat. 

Now, he was capable, although not happy about it, of letting her work. 

“She needs lots of rest,” the healer said. “Minimal activity for at least a week.” He’d tie you to the fucking bed if he had to. 

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124

@callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16 

[lost-romantique]

I love how much Sam Haft is talking about Mastermind...

I definitely did notice how Mastermind and Apology Tour are so opposite of each other in messages.

Apology Tour left Blitz more humbled as he realizes the gravity of his sins, and as he (in his eyes) loses Stolas completely.

But Ghostfuckers is supposed to be the turning point for Blitzø’s character as he is pushed to the brink of insanity, and has to be saved by Millie in order to get out of the experience alive.

Blitzø learns from Millie in Ghostfuckers that it's okay to be weak and vulnerable, and thst he isn't just some monster that destroys peoples lives.

I just find it so fascinating how Blitzø in his journey of self-actualization, gets rewarded for his self-sacrifice by getting the love and appreciation of his found family and by his peers.

For people that don't know, self-actualization is a concept based off Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

For the longest time, Blitzø was moreso busy focusing on his safety and physiological needs versus actually fixing himself; and I feel like a part of that is due to his years alone he spent after the fire. Blitz was forced into a mindset of "survival" and he never really left that mindset, even after creating I.M.P. As a result, of ignoring his trauma for so long, it ended up giving him a very fucked up way of thinking that severely impacted his relationships in the long run.

I specifically love the fact that Sam Haft mentions that Mastermind is supposed to be a humbling episode for Stolas as he's actually made aware of how much privilege he possesses.

It really makes me look forward to Stolas' future character development as he "touches grass".

Also, low-key don't understand why some people were surprised Stolas would actually go to great lengths to save Blitz...

Of course he would, Stolas has always put others needs before his own, it's a part of his character.

Legit, a huge part of Stolas' character development as a whole is him standing up for himself, and putting his wants and needs first before his own.

It's one of the things he learns from Blitz that he states time and time again, "he taught me I could choose" to "I am the mastermind, the master of my fate".

I think the sad part is that the fate he chose and honestly yearned for was the sweet release of death...

Christ on a stick, Stolas babe, please gain a support network. Honey, you fucking need it. Desperately.

Go be best friends with Moxxie and watch Cats together or something, please. That way Blitz and Millie could go hang out and commit arson or something.

[imaginaldisk2024]

also as i reread the books i really want to examine the idea of Peeta and Gale as representations of "peace and war" because I think that that is an extreme oversimplification for both of them. Peeta being "peace" is not right because he's not afraid to be disruptive and disobey when necessary. In his first real scene he literally throws Haymitch's glass away from him. Hell, "peace" in stories isn't presented as a good thing. There's the uneasy peace that is literally the purpose of the games to ensure. It's not a good thing. The only reason Katniss is able to settle down and live the life she wanted to is because of rebellion and war.

Peeta is not a metaphor for choosing peace. He is just radically kind and empathetic in a world where selfishness and apathy are the best way to ensure survival. And this is something Katniss cannot comprehend at the beginning. She is confused when Peeta cleans Haymitch up alone, instead of asking a Capitol aide to help him because that would be good revenge. She cannot understand that he is just a kind person.

Gale, on the other hand, is extremely vengeful. And as much as I dislike him for the way he behaved towards Katniss after her games, his anger is justified and sympathetic. But it leads no where. In the end, his line of thinking parallels that to the Capitol, who created the Games as revenge for their peace and comfort being destroyed by the rebels. Obviously, Gale has many more reasons to be angry than the Capitol ever would, but using his rage and anger to lead the rebellion instead of the empathetic and kind view of Peeta, which seeks to create a better world for the oppressed, is what ultimately will crush the rebellion and destroy its root cause.

and the story is about Katniss coming to accept Peeta's outlook on the world is better grounds for a rebellion than Gale's. In the beginning of book 1 she literally tries her best to distance herself from Peeta because she is quite literally afraid of kindness and sees it as a way that he is exposing her weakness. In the end she realizes that the only world safe enough to settle down in is one that prioritizes kindness and its citizens. It's not about "peace versus war" because by choosing "peace" the cause leads to nowhere. But by choosing to create a safer and better society, there is always a greater reason to fight.

[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[thewistlingbadger]

When it comes to raising Jinx and giving her advice, Silco uses his own life experiences as a guide to approach her life. This is clearly highlighted in the baptism scene. Prior to this point Silco and the audience have seen how Jinx is struggling to confront and handle her past. Silco gives her the advice to let it go so that way she won't feel the burden of it anymore and she can just focus on who she is in the present, and her future. He tells her that who she is in the current moment is perfect and acceptable and that embracing who she is will be the only way for her pain to ease. Silco says all of this because that's what worked for him. When he was able to let go of his past with Vander and focus on who he was post betrayal and focus on the nation of zaun, he became stronger. This seems to have worked for Silco, but it doesn't work for Jinx no matter how hard she tries and I think I just realized why.

Silco seemingly has no idea why Vander betrayed him. Living with that big of an unknown is a terrible thing to live with. The brain likes to have answers and it'll easily go mad without them. And this seems to be what happened to Silco. Silco has this very weird perception about his identity. It feels very rigid and unnatural and it's because it's more armor than it is authenticity. Silco doesn't know why Vander treated him like a monster that day, but if it's a monster he wants it's a monster he'll get. Living with uncertainty is extremely difficult but in a way it can sometimes be easier to accept than the truth. This is why Silco seems so well adjusted in his new identity. He can either be bothered by what he doesn't know or he can just let it go, and he chose to let it go in order to focus on what really mattered to him.

Jinx tries and fails to fully construct a new identity throughout arcane. She does use the "jinx persona" as armor, just how silco uses the "eye of zaun persona" armor, but she cracks in her resolve frequently. She wants to leave the last behind like how Silco does, but she can't. This is because of a very clear distinction between her and Silco. Although these two have a similar trauma, Jinx actually knows why she was abandoned, versus silco does not.

"Why did you leave me?"

"Because you're a Jinx!"

Jinx knows exactly why she was abandoned. She was given a direct answer. And the truth is brutal. The idea that Jinx is a curse upon everyone is something that is cemented in her brain. It is something she can't get rid of no matter how much she wants to. It would be easier to let it go if she didn't know but she does know. Jinx struggles to form a solid sense of self because this idea of her being a "jinx" is something that's always going to be a factor of any identity she forms. In every version of her, she ends up being a jinx in some way.

[brighteuphony]

Got a bunch of Sasuke-centric asks, so here we are!

Sakura has some complicated feelings about Sasuke.

In my AU, Sakura was born to civilian parents who didn't really want her to become shinobi, even though that had been her dream for as long as she could remember- and it was no secret in the Haruno household that they were hoping she'd drop out, or at the very most, be career genin.

So Sakura never really had anyone to believe in her and had to go into the academy (late!) as a civilian-born, meaning she was automatically behind in development (and status) compared to the clan kids. (I headcanon that until the Academy, Sakura didn't ever spar with anyone, versus clan kids who had probably learned how to wield kunai before they knew how to walk).

So Sakura worked hard and did her absolute best to get the barest minimum that clan kids were afforded by default. Unfortunately, her best, without the resources/opportunities, just wasn't good enough. And Sakura knew it. Academically, she was brilliant, but that's not enough to be a good shinobi. And somewhere deep down, Sakura (at the very least Inner Sakura) knew it.

It's why I headcanon that she developed such a violent temper. People who are secure in themselves don't have such explosive, uncontrolled outbursts- it's why she picked on people like Naruto, who was probably the only person below her in the pecking order (maybe Tenten? But they're equals I guess). It's why she's so quick to anger and usually has those responses OUT of combat- it's because that's the only place her violence is actually effective.

It's also why she's such a teacher's pet- she needs validation from others to try and fill the gaping void.

So when Sasuke appeared on the radar, and everyone wanted him, so did Sakura. Because if she got him, she would do something that no one else- clan-privileged and better- could do. In fact, she staked most of her identity (her hair, her diet, her clothing) on it.

None of this was conscious. She really did have a crush on Sasuke, but the seed of it was born from a very misguided desire to prove herself on an even playing field.

After all, she didn't have a clan upbringing/resources to teach her how to find self-worth and actualization through her skills (she went home, and her civilian parents praised her for things that absolutely didn't matter in shinobi reality, amazement that she could throw a kunai! how good her grades were! and how cool it was that she could jump high!)

(and Kakashi absolutely didn't help, lol), so she defaulted to what she knew- which was being a regular girl with a regular crush.

Now, as an ~adult, she's come to the painful realization that her love for Sasuke was just a goalpost. Ironically, she set her sights on someone who would inadvertently feed into all of those insecurities, and because Sakura didn't love/believe in herself, she accepted Sasuke's abuse.

She also understands that she ran into the Chidori/Rasengan deathmatch of her own stupidity, but she just can't forgive Sasuke for leaving. For never owning up. 'Cause that's just coward behavior..

Basically, Sasuke's cruelty was just a reflection of her own self-loathing, and unfortunately, Sakura just wallowed in denial and ended up paying a hefty-ass price.

So if she ever sees Sasuke again? Honestly, she doesn't know whether she wants justice or revenge. It's complicated.

Whew- that was a text dump....

Once again, thank you so much to everyone for all the interest and asks! I'm so happy we can all share Naruto rotbrain together.

[unknown-cold]

Video edited by: @ kellunar on Twitter/X

I really liked this edit, bc it brought up a point that I think many people didn't notice.

It is to see that Caitlyn's suffering is not just about seeking revenge or sadness and anger and that she is now just a victim of Ambessa's manipulation of her, and she is also a victim of society's expectations towards her because of her family name that weighs on her and she feels responsible for her society's view of her. She is suffering because of her duties versus her desires, and what she shooting for versus what people want from her.

I think it's interesting to see this change that's happening with Caitlyn's character. And how the writers want to show us a character who's going to realize that revenge is going to cause more problems and other things happening to her that they're going to show us in the rest of the episodes.

People need to stop overreacting and criticizing characters, I mean literally they make me feel like these characters are real and not fictional characters, Caitlyn there is no stupid nickname they threw at her, like you don't like a character that's okay, don't accept her actions that's okay too, but don't make it personal and say a wrong thing like Caitlyn was going to kill the kid bc she's a cop, and cops are evil and blah blah as if it's a real story.

And there people completely ignoring that Cait is hysterical in that moment, she's clearly very angry and grieving. Grief is the craziest mental health affliction ever, it can drive you to be irrational, why are people not understanding that.

But as I was saying why all these titles like fascist and villain in the show and Hitler 2 I mean this is really ridiculous 😂. Bc she is rich and in a position of power, well what if Cait wasn't like that and was a normal girl who wanted revenge would you still say this to us!?

Bc I've always wondered what if Caitlyn wasn't an enforcer or a daughter of the council family, would these people still call her a dictator or a fascist or all this bullshit, I'm sure they wouldn't bc they're either hypocrites or don't see the point of the whole show. The show is not about politics, but rather about characters and their development. Arcane shows us that there is no hero or perfect character and every character has flaws and mistakes, and that's what makes it interesting to watch. These people really need to separate fantasy from reality and enjoy the show.

And I'm not saying you agree with Caitlyn's actions, but this doesn't make her a dictator too. And of course not, she has a right to protect her people after all. (Do you even know what dictator or fascist means?) Or are you just mixing things up to prove your point, which is basically wrong?

Caitlyn's character reaction is normal, and it's not new. We've seen many characters in different works talk about the topic of revenge, and as I said, the character's reaction of seeking revenge makes her completely blind to what's happening around her, especially since she's not alone here. We must not forget Ambessa, who will play the role of the character who incites Caitlyn to take revenge all the time, and Ambessa will certainly be the reason for showing Zaun in the worst light in front of Cait, just like she did in episode 1.

But of course we know bc Caitlyn will not be like this throughout the end of the show, she will definitely realize the situation and discover Ambessa's manipulation and exploitation of her, and that Ambessa caused the problems that were happening in the two cities.

[amaranthineghost]

BUT I LOVE YOU SO (PLEASE LET ME GO) ( lando norris. )

he loved her, but knew he had to let her go even if it killed him inside. still he left a paper trail back to him.

warnings: heavy angst I suppose

authors note: wrote this with 2 am motivation. it was about time I finally gave you guys some writing after a couple of months of an absence (I sincerely apologize). I was thinking of making this one of the parts of the mini series because it sort of fits what I want to do with it, but i figured since i hadn't put anything out in a while, it'd be its own separate thing <3

part 2 found here

HE LOVED HER with every fiber of his being. every cell in his body lived for her, he told himself. the blood that ran through his veins underneath his tan skin, all the way to his heart that he had so carefully carved to be able to beat for her. she was the center of his life, he thought.

he really thought.

because now, as he sat and watched her through the fingers over his face to hide the incoming tears, he wished he knew what he should've done. because he only knew what to do.

to let her go.

surely, it wasn't easy, it was never going to be. but alas it was inevitable for the lovers to part though at the time, they wished for it to be only shortly.  but they were never coming back. they didn't want to believe, but their hearts knew.

it was a long time coming, but nothing could've prepared them for the heartbreak they forced upon themselves. it was like running blindly into the brick wall they had built together.

they didn't ever fight though. that was the one thing they took pride for their relationship, but now they realize it would've been better for petty arguments. because now, they realize they just don't work.

he was social, she was a homebody. he loved the night life, jumping between different clubs across cities he'd drag her to. of course, at the time she didn't mind being pulled into a club every so often, but it wasn't her scene. the media never was.

he knew that. she knew that it was his.

her hands shook with every folded article of clothing, occasionally wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she tried to avoid his figure altogether.

it wasn't like she didn't want him, in fact she needed him. but the relationship was doomed from the start, she knew yet she didn't care because at the time, everything was tunnel-visioned and he was the light at it's end. 

her best moments were the ones lived with him, yet also the worst ones too. but she didn't regret it, it shaped them for their future. one where they knew they couldn't be by each other's side.

they knew heartbreak was looming over them, though the possibility of severing their relationship at any given moment didn't dawn on them till blood was pouring out the wound and there was nothing they could do to stop the bleeding.

they wouldn't try to, they knew better than to patch a wound that would never heal. they let it bleed onto the cold floors of their apartment. the one she had to leave.

nothing had happened in the way they had wanted, but when would it ever if everything was always working against them? it was the world versus them and they lost.

they accepted that defeat.

she tried her best to keep her composure as she packed, for whatever thin thread they held onto would snap if she broke down. because they both knew he couldn't leave her if she did, wouldn't let her go.

because she knew he'd give up his career, his dream, in a heartbeat if it had meant he could still hold her at night. he said forever, and he would make it happen.

it sent her over the edge, reliving their relationship as her fingertips creased memories and packed them into a suitcase, each item of clothing holding significance from their relationship. all from the beginning, she'd kept everything, and that wouldn't change.

she broke. she recognized the textures beneath her fingertips before she could look, her favorite dress. her favorite dress that he bought for her for their anniversary. she knew it was over.

as soon as the choked sobs left her lips, the armchair he sat on creaked as he simply stood and walked to console her. his arms wrapped around her shoulders as the warmth of his chest spread across her back, which did nothing but break her heart more.

she pressed her lips against his skin, though not in an intimate manner, but to hide her struggled cries as the tears down her cheeks began to stain his skin with mascara. she gripped his forearm and bicep tightly, leaning her head further against him.

" 'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin, sniffling as she struggled to catch a breath between sobs. she clenched her eyes shut, seeing dizzying shapes underneath her eyelids. she hoped it would stop the tears.

"shh," he shushed as his lips kissed her hair, muffling his words, "i should be sorry."

still he spoke ever so softly to her as the day they'd met and she couldn't help but fold for his tone of voice every time. even when she knew she shouldn't.

" you have nothing to be sorry for, lan..." 

"i should've know the media would be too much for you, love." he mumbled against her hair, "i have everything to be sorry for."

"but i handled it." she peeled his arm from her skin, the streaks of black mascara almost making her lips twitch into a smile as it brought back memories. memories of crying-laughing and smearing mascara onto his arms. still, she held his wrist as she turned to face him, yet she didn't step back.

it'd be the last time they would be this close.

but part of him didn't want her to turn around. he loved when her makeup ran down her face as she cried tears of joy, with the bright sun shining down on her, acting as her personal spotlight, because she was the center of attention, with the wind blowing her hair.

he wished he could see her like that one more time before they left for good. because now he stood, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off her face. because now it wasn't happy, it was sullen. he wanted everything to be able to take care of her, to not let her leave. not yet.

he sighed, he had to give in. he always would, he couldn't help himself when he smudged the running mascara off her face, "fuck, that never works, does it?" he muttered in a soft panic as he realized he just made more of a mess.

she chuckled. she loved whenever he lightened the mood, intentionally or not, it was something she could always count on him to do, "every time, lando, every time." she replied through soft chuckles, sighing as she calmed.

he became serious once again as the smile slowly fell from his face and he wiped the black from his fingers, "but really, did you handle it?" he asked lowly, looking down at her with the same, soft look on his face she could always count on, "i know the media really affected you."

she sighed. there was no denying the exhaustion the media and paparazzi caused. they thought they were fine in the bubble of their apartment, but that bubble had long popped.

"you were born to shine, lando." she simply responded to not give him the truth he was expecting to hear, "that's just not me, we both know it."

"i know." he whispered, biting his lip and looking at her with a gloomy expression. he felt regret and guilt, " 'm sorry."

she shook her head, raising her hand to his jaw to trace the bone under his skin, “i know, but we're both at fault here. we should've known it wouldn't've worked out."

it hurt for them to hear, but it needed to be said, and he would've never said it. it was the truth.

she sniffled, backing away with the realization of how close they had become as she wiped away stray tears and turned back to the half-packed suitcase on the bed they once shared.

he watched her face as her eyes scanned the still heaps of clothing left for her to take, and boxes needing to be filled, "do you want some help?" he offered, his hand grabbing the back of her arm, caressing the skin as she jumped slightly at the contact.

she sighed and said through an awkward chuckle, "please," she reached again for clothes to resume her packing, " 'm afraid i'll change my mind if i stay too much longer."

her words hurt, like daggers slicing through his skin. another wound they couldn't heal.

"would it be that bad?"

his response hurt more. she hadn't meant it like that, but words were subjective. it was like he had taken the knife from beneath his flesh and twisted back into hers.

"no, lan, i didn't mean it like that-" she dropped the shirt she held to place a hand on his bicep, which he shrugged off.

" 'ts fine," he spoke without a tone in his voice, which was odd for him. His focus was on her clothes in his hands and somewhat neatly packed away into one of her many suitcases.

"but i just meant-"

"listen, 'ts fine, we aren't together anymore so we don't have to fix things, or try to."

she squirmed under the dagger as it twisted deeper into her flesh. the air was tense, too silent for her liking and his new attitude threw her off.

it made her realize that maybe there was something more to them that didn't work. because surely any two people who loved each other would make it work out.

it didn't make sense though. maybe it never would.

after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between them where the only sound was folding of cloth and zipping up certain spots in her suitcase, he turned his back and left the room.

she watched him leave from the corner of her eye, but she didn't stop him. she wanted to though. she wanted so desperately to grab him by the arm and force him to talk to her, but she wouldn't. he was right. they weren't dating.

besides they couldn't even fix what they had before.

minutes later he reemerged with a hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket and another behind his back with something he hid from her. she couldn't get a peak before he slipped it into one of the boxes. she shrugged it off as something she had forgotten.

he returned to helping her fold, but this time with his back towards her. it pained her, she didn't want him to turn his back on her, yet in a couple of hours, she would walk through their apartment door, her back turned to him. it was unfair, she knew.

the tears this time were silent as they streamed down her face, but she didn't make a sound. she watched his actions for a solid five minutes, seeing his best attempts folding her clothes, for her. he was never the best at it, as she had poked fun at him for it in the past. it hurt to think she would never see the difference of neatness in her closet anymore.

her attention was piqued  when she saw his movement halt, quickly resuming with a messily put-together hoodie, one she didn't recognize to be hers.

she didn't get to look before he flipped back the top and zipped it up to go with the others.

she didn't have time to wipe the fresh tears from her face when he turned around after pulling the suitcase from the bed. he paused, dropping the handle.

in a swift motion, he pulled her into his chest. she couldn't stop herself from breaking down in his arms, his hand wrapped around her head, the other around her back. they stayed silent, apart from her sobs into his shirt. he didn't care if she ended up staining it.

they swayed for a while, longer than they should've, but at least now she had calmed down. though tears still streaming down her face and a headache forming in her head, they pulled apart slightly.

her hair was messy, her nose, cheeks, eyes and lips were red, her eyes were puffy and tears stained her face, but she was still prettier than ever.

he couldn't help but tuck the hair in front of her face behind her ear, his hand resting on her jaw.

for the last time, they kissed.

to him, it was like he was taking his last breath of air, or gulp of water for the rest of his life. he was taking what he could.

the taste of her salty tears, the wetness from her cheeks now on his, the hands in her messy hair pushing her desperately closer because he didn't want to let her go.

they sighed when they parted, his teeth grazing her bottom lip at a desperate attempt for more. more time.

they both stepped back, staying silent once again. they didn't have anything to say because their actions said it all. he stepped back to the suitcase he dropped and started moving them out to her car, which had considerably more trunk space than any of his.

it felt like when she was first moving out for college, with stacks of boxes and plenty of suitcases to make it seem like she was fleeing the country.

it all ended the second she walked out the door, but she didn't have to turn her back on him as he walked her to her car, opening the door.

one last hug between them. the last contact.

but they still followed each other's lives.

she would watch his races from the comfort of her new living room couch because she still worried about him the same amount from when they were dating. she noticed his suffering performance, though she sighed every time he crossed the finish line unscathed.

part of him knew she was watching for him.

he still followed her private accounts, liking the posts of the lifestyle that he could never live. it just wasn't his to experience, just like his was never hers to live either. most nights spent drunk in the dj booth, or out to dinner with other drivers, the social life had never been her scene.

he knew.

he knew all along that it was never going to end as they wished in the moment. they stared at their future without fully knowing what was waiting, yet they didn't step down.

months had passed. their lives were supposed to have gotten better, but they could both see they were both suffering.

boxes still unpacked from when she first left, she had never gotten around to fully moving in. still suitcases and cardboard boxes laid around the kitchen of her new apartment.

she felt like she should open them, like she needed to. if not now, would she ever?

boxes full of old memories from her childhood, or stuffed animals she had always convinced lando to buy for her. until there was one box left untouched. she hadn't remembered packing this one.

carefully, she sliced the tape and pulled back the cardboard. she was speechless.

his race helmet. his race helmet he dedicated to her.

dedicated for the anniversary of the day they met. for the race of the country where their eyes first found each other.

it had details about her. her favorite colors, places, things. it had her name, big enough to see from a while away.

he loved this helmet. and he gave it to her.

all she could do now was hug the last remainder of him and cry. she wasn't sure if letting him go was the right or wrong decision, but it felt wrong to question it now.

when she pulled away from the helmet and sniffling her nose, she noticed a piece of paper lodged into the visor. carefully, she pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar and horrible handwriting of lando norris.

she was lucky she learned to read it over the years or she would've been screwed.

blue suitcase. for when you're ready.

out of all of the suitcases she had taken, only one was blue. the one he had packed.

she hastily picked herself off the floor, carefully setting the helmet down on the kitchen counter before dropping back down on her knees and desperately unzipped it.

she tossed through every pocket and article of clothing packed into the suitcase, inspecting every single item. until she found it.

of course, he had given her one of his hoodies, but it was not just any of his hoodies. once again, a favorite of his he wore regularly. he gave it to her. it smelled like him still. curse him for spraying cologne on it.

she felt the fabric beneath her fingertips before slipping it on. a smile crept onto her lips as she went and sat back down on her couch, the TV had been playing FP3 in the background before quali in a couple hours time.

she pulled her blanket back over her, slipping her hands into the pockets. her brows furrowed when she felt yet another piece of paper, pulling it out to reveal even more horrendous handwriting from her beloved racer.

will let me know you're watching?

any day now love.

when the nights get lonely, i'll be waiting.

whenever you're ready.

i miss you, i'm sorry

ynusername

liked by landonorris and 4037 others

ynusername I don't know if i'm ready for this...

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-

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[coco-loco-nut]

Barnstormer

pairing: charles x reader

summary: charles can’t help but to fall for your small town charm

a/n: so @vitalverstappen and I have been grinding on this prompt for a while (i sent the jumble of ideas to V.V. after this being in my drafts for a few months). read the sister story linked at the end!

masterlist requests open

——————————

Once again, you are in your home country to race, only this time it’s in Austin. You spent the break on your family’s ranch back in Montana, riding your horse and reconnecting with nature. You always joked that you are the racing version of Hannah Montana.

“Y/n, it must be nice to be back home. You certainly look the part,” Laura starts your interview with F1TV.

“Ah, well Austin is much different than Montana. Two different types of cowboy, I’d say,” you are dressed like you just came from the stable. Boots, jeans, hoodie, hair in a braid, and your hat. A quick look says you aren’t a driver.

“How so?”

“Well, they like the spice down here much more, and I’d say that we are much more equipped to deal with snow. One thing I do know is that we both love a good rodeo,” you feel your hat be removed from you head as you speak. Turning to your left, you see Charles put it on his head.

“Yee haw, little lady,” Charles does what might be the worst Texas accent you’ve ever heard.

“Charles Leclerc, you did not just grab my cap by the brim. I don’t think you know what you just did,” you take your hat back, by grabbing the crown - you aren’t an animal, holding it at your side as to not make fans think anything of it.

“Well, I’ll let you sort that out,” Laura turns to the camera. “Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with Y/n and Liam Lawson as we discuss being rookies, Lightning McQueen, and more,” Laura says, letting the camera cut away.

“Sorry we couldn’t get more of an interview, I gotta explain cowboy culture to Charles,” you cringe, pulling the Ferrari boys away. Charles listens as you ramble about how it’s rude to touch a hat, then straw versus felt and why despite it being past labor day you are wearing straw, and finally that his act of taking your hat could be seen as a sign of flirting. You reach the Alpine home and quickly dart inside.

“Mate, I don’t think she got it,” Carlos shakes his head as Charles groans.

“I’ve been trying all season, she just isn’t getting it,” Charles whines, sure you will never pick up on his flirting.

That night you take the boys to a bar just outside Austin that some friends back home recommended, they said it was where a lot of rodeo cowboys go. It does not disappoint, the neon offsetting the wood with Tim McGraw crooning on the speakers. You practically run to the bar to order your favorite cheap beer.

“Some of my friends said this is the best bar in town,” you yell over the music.

“Logan? He was your childhood best friend right?” Franco says, hoping that he got it right.

“Logan? No, although he is my friend. You really don’t know how far Montana is from here and Miami, huh,” you swig your beer before narrowing your eyes at the Argentinian. “Are you even old enough to be here? How did you get in?”

“Franco is 21, barely, but he is,” Alex says, a little put off by the place. Most of them did try to fit in, but everyone in the bar can tell they are tourists based off them wearing felt hats when it’s blistering hot outside.

“Oh, they have a bull,” your eyes light up as you quickly make your way to the mechanical animal. You don’t care if it’s embarrassing for you or the guys, you want to see them fall off.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Max asks, wary of the old machine.

“Sure, that’s what makes it fun. Why don’t you go first?” Your eyes challenge Max as a small crowd watches on, interested at the goings of your group.

“I, uh,” it doesn’t take you more than a second to realize that the boys are scared. You square your shoulders, finishing off your beer.

“Alright, but you’re missing out, it’s mighty fun,” you shrug, taking your hat off and setting it upside down on a table beside the operator. You hand him cash as you step onto the worn blue mats, eyeing up your worn, red competitor.

“Don’t you think this is a bad idea? I don’t want to explain to the team how you got hurt,” Pierre’s panic is evident even as the guys pull out their phones to film.

“Yeah no, I learned from the best. My hometown best friend is a champion rider,” you expertly mount the mechanical bull, unphased as it starts bucking. You hang on much longer than the boys would’ve, and when you feel yourself be about to get thrown off, you dismount with a flourish.

The guys are speechless beyond cheering for you as you put your hat on, heading back to the bar for another beer. Men tip their caps to you and you blush, a little overwhelmed by the attention.

Charles knows enough to know that you put on a show and have the interest of even more guys now. It doesn’t help that your boots and shorts show off your legs just right, and the tee you chose fits perfectly. Your hat adds a layer of mystery as it helps hide your eyes, but not your beautifully curled hair.

You don’t do much the rest of the night other than drink the guys into a hole, get violently drunk, and stand on a table singing Dolly Parton.

You pull up to the paddock the next day wearing a college football jersey, the school you’ve supported since you were a young kid.

“Texas or Georgia?” someone yells at you and you can’t help but step back in disgust.

“Neither, I’d rather die,” you yell back, despite not having a team in the SEC.

“How are you alive and still manage to look good,” Franco groans, walking beside you.

“Sheer will, and a bit of my mama’s secret recipe,” you grin.

“How does he do it?” Charles asks Max, watching Franco effortlessly flirt with you, even though Franco doesn’t realize he’s flirting.

“No idea. Have you talked to Mick, he’s pretty close with her. Maybe he has an idea,” Max shrugs.

“Mick? Like Mick Schumacher?”

“Yeah, they karted together. You could also just talk to her,” Max suggests, pushing his friend in your direction.

“So you are actually a cowgirl?” Charles asks you once Franco drops back to yap with Max.

“Yeah, my parents have a working ranch. I help out when I can, since they helped find people to house and train me throughout my career,” you smile.

“That’s so cool. You have your own horse too, right?”

“Yeah, do you want to see him? He’s a feral mustang that we domesticated, I’m thinking of breeding him with a quarter horse soon,” you pull up photos as Charles tries to understand everything you said.

“What a pretty rider,” Charles hopes you might pick up on an obvious flirt.

“Thanks,” the compliment barely registers in your mind.

“Maybe you could teach me how to ride sometime,”

“Oh, I was going to have Mick, Pierre, and Logan come up after Brazil. You should come too, hopefully we will beat the snow. There’s already been some, but if you bundle up you will be fine,” your smile melts Charles’s brain.

“Snow? Already?” Charles can’t imagine it, it hasn’t even been Halloween.

“Oh yeah, nothing like a warm cider and a fireplace though,” Charles can hear your accent come through.

“So are they dating?” Franco asks, observing how close you and Charles are standing.

“No.”

“But he likes her?”

“Yes.”

“And she likes him?”

“Hard to say,” Max shrugs.

“I am so confused,” Franco stares at you and Charles, it’s obvious you both like each other.

“Me too,” Carlos agrees, having come to retrieve Charles when he overheard Franco’s conversation with Max.

“Y/n is a smart woman, but she certainly cannot pick up on flirting,” Max shakes his head, walking off.

Charles did join you at your ranch before Las Vegas, with strict orders from his trainer on how to keep up with his training. Charles wasn’t expecting a whole complex of barns and houses. You could almost call it an operation.

They were all shoved in the back of your pickup, luggage safe on the bed of the truck, as you and a ranch hand chat in the front of the car.

“You boys are lucky there’s room in the main house during your stay,” the ranch hand had joked. Because the group arrived so late, it’s straight to bed for everyone. Everyone except you.

Charles is restless, and despite his better judgment, gets out of bed for a change of scenery. He walks into the living room, looking at family photos, school yearbook photos, and pictures of your races. Some of your first trophies are proudly displayed above the fireplace, as well as a picture from your first time in the points in F1. He takes in everything, it’s clear how proud your parents are of you.

Charles finds you on the porch, with a steaming mug and quilt thrown over your legs. You are staring at the sky, not really paying attention. He’s freezing, wearing more layers than you, but he sits beside you anyway. You hand him a spare quilt, which he thanks you for.

“It’s nice, to slow down out here, the open skies and quiet,” you break the calm silence.

“It seems busy around here,”

“You have to be. It’s a hard business, no days off. I’m lucky that we are a larger ranch and my family can afford things like my career. Most of my friends stay and work full time, some work for us now. The guys out there are just going in for the night to the bunk houses, they will be up at dawn ready to work,” you explain. Charles was right in that this is a business, and a large one.

“Makes me feel bad that we are here on a break then,” Charles rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t be. Plenty of ranches book out guest houses for tourism, it’s good income. Plus, you are here as my guest. The town will love to meet new people,” you reassure him, reaching to pat his hand.

“So, I guess you really don’t know every city that we visit?” Charles grins. None of the drivers ever bothered to look up where you are from, so they joke that you know Miami, Austin, and Las Vegas like they are your home town. However, they’ve been taking it more seriously as of late.

“No,” you whisper, a hint of a smile on your face as you watch the snow fall. You find yourself tucked under Charles’ arm before you bid him goodnight, going to bed.

You are up early, eating breakfast with your family.

“What’s your plan for the day?” your mother asks as you help clear the table.

“I think a trail ride then go into town, I don’t want to impose too much, but I’ll probably show them around,” you say, thinking of a schedule.

“Why don’t you do a late lunch in town? I have some things for you to pick up,” you agree with her idea.

“Go ahead, Mama, I’ll clean up,” you say, knowing there is administrative work to do.

The boys meander down about an hour later as you are finishing baking a bread you started yesterday.

“Morning boys,” you wipe your hands as they stand cluelessly in the kitchen. “Take a seat, I’ll whip you up something quick,” you motion to the kitchen table as you head to the fridge.

“Do you need help?” Logan asks, but your look quickly tells him to shut up.

“Coffee’s in the pot if you want some, milk in the fridge, food will be ready in a few minutes,” you wave the offer off.

“What’s your plan for today?” Mick asks, quickly taking to the coffee.

“I’ll take you on a trail ride and tour around some of the ranch, then we will go into town and grab lunch. After dinner we can go to the bar if it isn’t too bad out,” you look out the window, most of the snow has melted off already, but you can never be too careful. The boys quickly eat what you serve them and you take them out to the barn.

“Need help?” Charles asks as you blanket and saddle four horses, one he recognizes as yours. It’s impressive, watching you easily sling the heavy saddles on.

“Hold these, stand still,” you hand him the reigns, making sure he is in a safe position.

“Are you wearing chaps?” Mick notices the tan leather covering your jeans.

“Yes, and you all should too. You will thank me later when the wind isn’t biting at your legs. We should have some extras, hang on,” you grab a few pairs and tell the boys how to wear them.

“This is quite fashionable, I should’ve worn them in Austin,” Charles twists his legs, looking at the western wear. You just shake your head and continue getting the saddles ready.

“This is weirder than I thought,” Logan says, a little uncomfortable in the gear as you help him mount the horse.

“Sit up straighter, and widen your legs a little,” you fix his feet as you speak, adjusting the saddle and stirrups. You help each of them mount the horses you saddled before mounting your own horse.

You start with the tour before the trail ride, and the boys are feeling a little sore from the trotting as they dismount.

“I’m impressed your hat stayed on,” Mick says as he feels his muscles ache.

“That’s the point of a proper fitting hat. You can tell your trainers you had your workout for the day. Come on,” you make them follow you to the truck. As you get into town, you get stopped every other minute, being asked how you are and who your friends are. The boys look around the small store as you pick up your mother’s order.

“You and your boyfriend make quite the handsome couple,” the clerk, a church friend of your mother, says. She observes your startled face and smiles. “The one with brown hair, he seems very protective of you,” you look at Charles and catch his eye, causing both of you to look away with a blush.

“We aren’t dating, he’s a friend that I race with. They all are,” you deny, but you can’t help but wonder why your heart skipped a beat at the accusation.

“Sure honey, but you should see the way that boy looks at you,” you take the package, mind spinning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” your voice is quieter as she pats your hand.

“You take care now, don’t forget about your roots when you become a big star,”

“I’ll dedicate my first win to you all,” you smile, taking a step away from the old oak counter.

“Good girl. Watch out on the roads tonight,”

“Yes, Ma’am,” when you approach the guys you notice how you and Charles naturally gravitate towards each other, but you are quick to distract yourself before you think too much about it.

“Everything alright?” Mick asks, poking your head. You swat away his hand as he goes to poke you again. Logan and Charles are trailing you, talking about something that you couldn’t care less about.

“Yeah, just thinking about something the shop owner said,”

“That Charles likes you?” Mick says, you huff and walk a little faster.

“He doesn’t though, Mickie. We are just friends, he’s never even flirted with me. Besides, I don’t even like him like that, and I would NEVER date someone on the grid,” lies, well mostly. The grid part is pretty true, that’s a mess you don’t wasn’t to touch. Mick can read you like a book, he’s your best friend and basically your brother. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into a side hug as you walk.

“He flirts with you endlessly, you are just too blind to see it. Meine Liebe, he is so in love with you that he would crash someone out for you,” Mick looks at you, watching the gears in your brain turn.

“Well, if he is flirting with me that much, he really needs to step up his game,” you look at the sky, then to Mick.

“It’s a shame you are basically my brother, why can’t we date?” you groan, Mick loudly laughs.

“Alpine would hate that, can’t have two of their drivers dating,” Mick lowers his arm, poking your side.

“They are separating us, but our love shall prevail,” you carry on, enjoying the antics.

“Even Mick flirts with her easier than me,” Charles groans, looking at Logan for backup.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but they are literally the definition of siblings separated at birth. They joke like that all the time, he’s just her best friend,” Logan shakes his head.

“So there’s a chance?”

“Not with your flirting,” Logan pats Charles’s shoulder as they approach your truck.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, there is a storm coming,” you turn the key in the ignition, watching the boys get in the truck. Logan calls shotgun, leaving Charles and Mick in the back.

“Who let dying cats sing?” Mick teases you and Logan as you sing along with a country song, earning him the bird from both of you.

“Alright boys, wash up and then be down here for dinner. We won’t wait for you,” you say as you park the truck. Charles grabs the package for you, carrying it inside.

“I’ll take that, son,” your dad grabs the package from Charles as you walk through the door. “Y/n,” you follow his beacon, leaving the boys alone.

“Well, I will see you all in a bit,” Mick heads to his room, it’s obvious that he’s visited before.

Much to Charles’s dismay, he makes no progress on the flirting end for the rest of the week. When you get to Las Vegas, you are swept up in media and team duties. Charles sees more of Pierre than he does of you that weekend. He does notice when you post on Instagram.

instagram

y/username brought the boys home with me, still wouldn’t call them cowboys

mickschumacher to be fair, Logan and I fit in pretty well, Charles though…

charlesleclerc hey!

y/username charlie… you still don’t know how to wear a hat correctly

alpinef1team we 🫶 our cowgirl (and Cowboy Mick)

mercedesamgf1 our* Cowboy Mick 🤠

scuderiaferrari it’s okay Charles, even if you aren’t a cowboy, we still love you (Mick was ours first, back off)

charlesleclerc hey! you are supposed to be on my side

mickschumacher love the support guys 💙🩵❤️

user29 the shared admin parenting 😭

y/username charlie, it’s okay, not everyone is cowboy material

user aww, she brought Logan with her. best former grid friendship

user4 so we are ignoring the part where she got them all to wear chaps?

logansargeant you hear that mick? i’m better than you

mickschumacher impossible, i’m literally her best friend

y/username and they looked wonderful in them 🥰 (i love you two equally)

user2 poor charles, always forgotten even if they weren’t friends until recently

charlesleclerc best cowgirl and teacher in Montana ❤️

y/username only Montana? i’m wounded, you’re uninvited from the next trip

Mick hung around, pulling double duty for Mercedes and Alpine. He watched the race from the Mercedes garage, a tense place to be during the race. The Mercedes team qualified poorly in Q3, leaving them in the midfield. Logan accompanied him, an odd sight for most fans.

You had qualified well, with you and Pierre in P6 and P7 respectively. A crash up front took out Max and Lando, leaving the two of you in a battle with Oscar, Charles, and Carlos. A late safety car and a well timed undercut allowed you to move into P2, fighting for the win with Pierre right behind you. With five laps left to go, you find luck on your side once more. Oscar locked up, giving you just enough room to overtake him. When you cross the line five laps later, you feel tears running down your face.

“We did it, holy shit! Great work team, I’m so proud of you guys. This win is for the huge support network I have back home - I told you I’d dedicate my first win to you, and it’s for this team who has struggled and fought to be in the position to win races again,” you say on the radio as you take your cool down lap, waving to fans as you drive past.

The feeling of standing on top of your car is like nothing else, the crowd electric with you first win, a home win.

Pierre pulls into P3, quickly hoping out to embrace you, rubbing your helmet.

“We did it! You are amazing!” Pierre cheers.

“Finally a podium for us,” you agree, joining Pierre in heading to the barricades to celebrate with the team.

Charles makes his way to where you are putting on your team hat and sipping water a few minutes later.

“Welcome to the home win club,” he hugs you, wishing he was on the podium too.

“Thanks, Charlie. Sorry, I’m just so overwhelmed,” you smile but tears start to flow out of your eyes again. This is likely the only win you will ever get, and you know that.

“Amour,” his voice is soft and sympathetic as he wipes the tears off your cheeks. “You deserve every bit of this win, you drove so well,” he reassures you as you nod, sniffing the tears away.

“Interview time, champ,” Pierre grabs you, pulling you towards Guenther. He quickly shoots Charles a look that says he’s talking about this later. Pierre is protective of his teammate, and he isn’t scared to rip into his childhood friend if needed. You watch Pierre speak, then Oscar, before it’s your turn. They wait for you, not wanting to leave you vulnerable to the media.

“Y/n, first off, congratulations on a monumental win. How are you feeling?” Guenther asks, his voice jovial. He watched you grow as a driver in the Ferrari program, so he feels a bit proud.

“Overwhelmed, mainly,” you laugh, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “I, uh, carry the legacy of many women before me, those who drove, served as test and reserve drivers, and affiliated drivers. I really hope this win made them proud and make the girls driving in lower formulas know they can succeed here too,” you say, still breathing a bit heavier.

“That was one heck of a drive, how were you able to take the win?”

“A lot of luck, and confidence. I knew that I had to take some risks, especially on that overtake and defending the last few laps. I’m glad that Max and Lando are okay, those collisions aren’t fun,”

“One more question and then I will let you get your trophy. How will you take this confidence into the last two races?”

“Just keeping the energy up with the whole team. They’ve worked hard to get Pierre and I on the podium, and it’s nice to see it pay off, especially at my home race. You never really know when you will get to the podium, so I think we will just cherish this and hope the points keep coming,” you say, relieved to be done with interviews for now.

“Thank you, congratulations again,” Guenther says, letting you go. You give a wave and disappear to where Pierre and Oscar await.

“An all Alpine podium,” Mick teases, waiting around the bend for you.

“Former, but I guess it counts,” Oscar smiles as you launch yourself at your best friend.

“I’m so proud, meine Liebe, and I know Dad is too,” he hugs you tightly. Mick lets you go a moment later, promising to see you after the podium.

The cooldown room is nice, you relax in the chair as Oscar and Pierre chatter, watching the race highlights.

“Nice defending, you were a brick wall against Charles,” you fist bump Pierre.

“Ready?” Oscar asks, dragging you out of your seat. Pierre is the first out and onto the podium. “Just breathe, this is your moment,” Oscar reminds you before stepping out. Before you know it you are being drenched in champagne.

“This is just the start of the celebrations, mon amie,” Pierre says, wrapping an arm around you as you head back to the motorhome.

“Drinks on me tonight,” you cheer, ready to shower off the champagne and get media over with.

You are one of the last to arrive at the club, mostly because your phone died and you had to wait on it to charge. However, that just means you had more time to pregame, and you did.

“Oscar!” you drunkenly cheer, wrapping your arms around the Aussie.

“When did you get here? Are you already drunk?” he asks, trying not to laugh.

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I drank with Logan,”

“Logan is here?!” Oscar looks around the room, trying to spot his friend.

“No, silly, he’s in Miami. He was on the phone, duh,” you walk towards the bar, ordering a round of shots for your friends and you. You don’t hesitate in downing it, ordering a drink to take with you back onto the floor.

“How much have you had to drink?” Franco asks, wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady.

“Mmmm, five shots,” you giggle then poke his cheek, pushing his face a bit due to your sloppy motions. “You’re cute, just a babbyyy,”

“You are very pretty as well, how’d you know I have a thing for older women,” Franco flushes, the flirting coming out of nowhere. He honestly thought that you and Charles were dating, but he can’t help that he’s a natural flirt.

“Pierre! George!” you walk away before he can even process everything. You are off to do more shots, intending to get fucked up.

“You okay?” Max asks, quickly replacing you at Franco’s side.

“Y/n was just here, she’s an odd drunk, can she even drink that much?” Franco asks, very confused.

“She brought Tennessee moonshine to a race last year and she out drank Valtteri. I didn’t realize she’s been here,” Max looks around, searching for you.

“Whatever she drank earlier was strong then. Aren’t she and Charles dating? Why was she flirting with me?”

“Who knows,” Max shrugs, leaving Franco confused and alone as he spots you back at the bar in the VIP section the drivers reserved.

“You are cut off for now,” Max shakes his head as he stands beside you, taking the drink from your hand and keeping it for himself.

“Charlie! Tell Max to give me my drink back,” you pout, crossing your arms as you lean back against the bar, stumbling a little as your back hits the edge.

Charles’s eyes rake across you in concern as he quickly reaches out to steady you. He looks away at Max to get a silent read on the situation.

“Amour, how much have you had to drink? Didn’t you just get here?” Charles is more worried that you may have been drugged, no one acts like that after one drink.

“Five shots,” Charles watches you count on your fingers, holding up seven of them.

“And here?”

“Um, three shots and a drink. I just got here fourty minutes ago,” your words slur together as dizzying lights flash around the bar. The change in music tells everyone that Lando got behind the DJ booth.

“You are cut off for the hour, go dance some of it off then I will buy you a new drink,” Max says, winking at Charles. Before he can respond, you are dragging Charles onto the dance floor.

“You are a terrible flirt. You know who told me that you like me? Mickie,” you poke Charles’ chest as you dance close to him. Charles wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you close but providing support.

“It must’ve worked if you know now,” Charles leans down slightly, voice low against the pulsing music. You tilt your head up more, looking at him through hooded eyes, his body moving against yours as the bass builds up.

“No,” you say, lips centimeters away from brushing against his as the beat drops. “You need to work harder to earn me,” you slip out of his arms, going to find your aforementioned friend, leaving Charles alone and horny.

You find yourself back at the bar, no one there to stop you from drinking more. Well, that is until Mick shows up right before the bartender walks back over to you.

“Let’s celebrate the win, if you drink any more right now you will puke in 10 minutes,” Mick pulls you away, back to the other drivers. Fuck Charles, the bar is your one true love and Mick is denying you it.

“Here,” Lewis hands you a drink which you happily take. It’s just a mocktail, but you don’t know that.

“To our cowgirl and her first win!” Carlos toasts, cheers ringing out across your group. You catch Lando sneaking away back to the DJ booth, and you quickly follow.

“Lando, let me play a song,” you beg, and who is Lando to deny you after your first win? The grid gravitates towards the two of you as Lando helps you set yourself up.

“What are you playing?” Lando yells as you quickly pull up your song. Your devilish grin tells him everything as he helps you blend it into the song currently playing. The song slows as a low “tu tu tu tu” rings out, the lights turning in to focus on Max.

“Is this because I took away your drink?” Max yells, embarrassed and a little annoyed even though he thinks it’s funny. The rest of the guys are singing along, teasing Max. That’s the last thing you remember.

You wake up groggy on the couch of your hotel room, Mick in the bed. Based on the weird feeling in your mouth, you were puking before you fell asleep. Stumbling, you cross the room and crawl into bed beside Mick.

Mick wakes you up a few hours later, cup of coffee in hand.

“How much do you remember of last night?” he asks as you lightly groan, launching into your past memories.

You virtually sit down for a podcast later in the week to discuss your win.

“How does it feel going viral?” The one podcaster asks after you discussed your career and fighting in the midfield.

“Viral? Honestly, I’ve been so busy since the win that I haven’t been on social media,” you laugh, very confused.

“Gen Z has taken to you, you are all over TikTok and Twitter,”

“That’s wild, thanks Gen Z,” you smile, giving the camera a little salute.

“The after party seemed fun,”

“From what I remember, it was. It’s always a good time going out with the guys. Can I confess something?”

“Please do,” the podcaster says, eager for some gossip.

“I thought Franco was too young to be out with us. The first time he showed at the bar in Austin, I genuinely thought he was about to be thrown out,” you say, letting the conversation stay of that for a bit.

“So, a photo of you and Charles dancing at the club after your win went viral. We asked him about it and this is what he had to say,”

“Oh yeah, we’re dating, didn’t you know?” Charles says, looking quite serious, but you know it’s a joke, at least you think it is.

“Haha, yeah we are engaged, almost got married in Vegas. Didn’t you know?” you joke, stifling a laugh.

The podcast blew up and Alpine ate it up. The media team was quick to partner with Ferrari to do a couples challenge in the Alpine motorhome. You quickly leave once it’s done, escaping to your driver’s room. Charles follows you, sitting beside you as you take a deep breath.

“Sorry, it’s all a bit overwhelming. I am from a small town, I’m just not used to this type of attention,” you say and Charles holds your hands, providing comfort as electricity courses through you.

“You don’t have to be. Your fans think you are perfect, I think you are perfect,” Charles says, your eyes meeting his, searching for signs that he isn’t telling a lie.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been in love with you forever. You are beautiful, and kind, and smart,” Charles trails off as his eyes flicker to your lips. His right hand finds itself moving from your hand to your cheek. He leans in, lips brushing yours as he hesitates - waiting for you to take action.

You tilt your head up, mind spinning as you take in his scent and the moment. You don’t waste another moment, pressing your lips to his. Charles tenderly pulls away after a minute, resting his forehead on yours.

“I didn’t lie in that interview, amour, you are my cowgirl,” he says softly, a hint of relief in his voice.

“Yours? Oh no, Charlie, you will have to work harder to win that,” your sly smile tells him that the challenge isn’t over yet as he leans in to kiss you again.

“My stubborn, stubborn cowgirl,”

Can’t get enough? Check out @vitalverstappen’s sister story ⬇️!

[readychilledwine]

Cassian who after you two realize you’re pregnant slowly stops doing as much training to spend time with you and your growing body.

Cassian who slowly starts eating the foods you crave so you don’t feel alone in the weird things you’re eating

Cassian who slowly starts getting a “dad bod” towards the end of your pregnancy, still keeping his muscle mass in his arms and legs, his abs are just starting to get a little more full.

Cassian who realizes you’re starting to like the dad bod more than the straight hard ass muscle and after the little babe is boring starts taking more days off of training to stay in his new body shape for you

I'm. Salivating.

Dadbod

Summary - After the pregnancy and birth of your first daughter, you aren't the only one dealing with body changes

Warnings - insecure Cassian, suggestiveness and implied smut, teasing from Rhys and Azriel.

A/N -i want everyone to know what my vision of a "cut dadbod" is. It's Jason Momoa in Aquaman. He's lean, muscular, and cut, but he's not what cassian would typically be of rippling muscles and abs you can wash laundry on. So, I attached a picture of the image that came to mind while reading this 🤤🥴

Your honor, I need him. Sexually.

Cassian sighed loudly as he looked himself over in the mirror. There was no denying he had put on weight with your pregnancy, and especially with the pressures of fatherhood and a newborn, but Mother above you wanted him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your eyes slightly glazed over, focused in on his strong arms and shoulders, on his chest, his stomach. Yes, cut abs no longer sat exposed all the time, begging to be licked between every ridge, but there was something about how his build now accentuated the v of his hips, how it highlighted his still trim waist without distracting from it.

Your mate was the most attractive male you'd ever laid eyes on. Not Rhys. Not Azriel. Not even the countless high fae you dealt with daily. None of them could hold a candle to Cassian and none ever would.

"I can feel you staring. I know I've gotten out of shape, you can just say it." His voice was laced with sadness. You could feel his disappointment running down the bond as he picked up your daughter, bouncing her as he smiled.

That was the other attractive thing about Cassian. Watching him be a father. Watching him with his daughter. Seeing his excitement over having a little girl. Cassian never expressed disappointment. He never made snide comments about your failure at providing a male, no. Cassian cherished her, his little baby bat, and thanked you for her profusely.

His love for her was part of why he had "Let himself go." He had gone from hours spent on the roof, training the priestess, training with Azriel and Rhys, training Feyre to each group receiving an hour of his time instead of his whole day. He wanted to be with her, not locked on the House of Wind, stuck hearing her small cries as the doorways carried them to him.

"Cassian, you are the sexiest I have ever seen you," you finally answered him, lip going back to your teeth. You wanted him, needed him. You two had not touched each other in so long.

"You don't have to lie, sweetheart. I know I'm not-"

"Stop it," it came out more forcefully than you had wanted. "I like your body. I love the way you look. I still want to fuck you senselessly daily. Just stop."

That conversation had changed everything. Cassian would never admit it, but he enjoyed having his days to himself. He enjoyed only allowing training to ocuppy 3 to 4 hours of his day versus almost 8.

And Gods, he loved how you looked at him now. He loved how much more you two snuggled, how you seemed more comfortable laying your head on his chest.

"Good morning, fuckers." Cassian effortlessly flipped the crepes he had been making for you when he heard Rhys and Azriel sit down at the kitchen island. "What do you want?"

Rhys looked at the unhealthy breakfast, one you constantly craved during pregnancy. "When do you two plan on being back to hard training and dieting?"

He knew Rhys was asking out of curiosity, but Cassian couldn't help but growl, more concerned about Rhys possibly mocking your post pregnancy body more than Cassian's own new dad body.

Azriel's spine straightened at the sound as he shot Rhys a look. "What our brother is trying to say, Cass, is we miss training with you all day on our days off, and we are concerned you are not taking time for yourself anymore."

The look Cassian gave them felt almost like he was attempting to murder them. Like he was warning them of the line they were risking. "My mate needs me and appreciates my help with our daughter. I like my current schedule. When she is older, will I maybe go back to a more training heavy schedule? Possibly. But for now, I am doing what's best for me and my family." And my sex life, he thought silently to himself as images of you riding him last night came to mind.

"We are just concerned, Cassian," Rhys stated softly. "About your growing daddy tummy." His smile broke out as he poked Cassian's abs, eyes widening over still feeling solid muscle below a slight layer of skin. "What the fuck?" Rhys stood, walking over to Cassian. "How are you still so fit?"

"He's fucking perfect, isn't he?" You walked into the room, a small head and wings poking out from the body wrap you were using to carry the daughter you shared with the general. "Delicious."

Azriel chuckled, moving to you to take the babe, but unsure if you meant the crepes or your husband. "As long as you two are happy, that's all that matters. I just was worried about your mental health, Cass. Mother knows your a vain creature that loved his abs more than breathing."

"Or eating."

"Or drinking."

"Or fucking," Rhys and Azriel went on as you moved to Cassian, arms wrapping around his strong biceps.

He looked in the mirror again that night, holding his daughter as he stared at his abs. This current body was a reminder to him of how life had changed, of the growth you two had done, the small life that was now phsyical evidence of the love you two shared. "Dad bod," he finally said. "I'd rather have my dad bod."

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