#you are so important little one do you even know

[zinepunk]

Some thoughts on the end of arcane season 2:

Wow that was even gayer than expected /pos

Episode 7 was damn incredible. Everything I ever wanted from this show, especially with the “what could have been” themes

I know I wasn’t supposed to find it funny but I cracked tf up every time the alternate realities switched. Like it’d go from Ekko on a date in ideal Zaun being like “nooo I HATE parties :(“ to Jayce GOING THROUGH IT eating raw meat alone in a cave lmaoooo

TimeBomb canon letsgoooooo

GAY SEX???? GAYY??? SEX?!?!?!?

IN A JAIL CELL FOR SOME REASON???? I mean slay ig??

Side note I had a dream that Vi and Caitlyn had sex but woke up and was like damn too bad they’ll never do that in canon. I’m a prophet 😎

Mel’s character design somehow got even better and I love that for her (rip about the mommy issues tho)

Also what was up with Skye being savage as hell? Viktor being like “I’ll miss our talks” and her being like “no you won’t” Tf???!?

Ekko slayed this season but what’s new

Ekko putting Jinx on a suicide watch by rewinding time every time she killed herself was funny as hell ngl. Speaking as someone who’s been monitored 24/7 for that exact reason

I wanna know what the hell Ekko said to Jinx to convince her to not only not die but also save everyone cuz I feel like we missed some steps

Look I know JayVik didn’t become OFFICIALLY canon like the others but that confession was gay as hell. They’re canon to me idc

The reveal that the mage who saved Jayce as a kid was Viktor all along?? Side note, my dad actually predicted that by accident because he couldn’t remember who was who so yay dad

I know this isn’t important whatsoever but VIKTOR WITH A BEARD CAN GET IT

Jinx’s new hair is really growing on me but unfortunately it only lasted like 30 mins

I can’t believe jinx fucking died. I seriously didn’t think they’d kill off one of the main characters

Also did Jayce and Viktor die? That was super unclear like where did they go??

I feel like Vi and Sevika really got the short end of the stick with this ending since both of them had at least two found families EACH die off completely

Anyway in summary I LOVED the ending and the little seeds it planted for future spin offs. Once again I watched the whole thing jaw dropped. I kept thinking “wouldn’t it be crazy if they did xyz? But they wouldn’t do thaaaat” and then they FUCKING DID IT. 10/10 show, ended as beautifully as I’d hoped.

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗩𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

viktor 𝒙 fem!reader (platonic)

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ I don't know, I just thought it would be a fun dynamic, enjoy!

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

𓆤 Ekko crashing into you on his hoverboard was how it all began. It happened during one of your hurried trips back to Zaun after a grueling week in Piltover’s laboratories. You were distracted, engrossed in your mental checklist of materials Viktor had asked you to bring. You didn't even notice the faint whir of Ekko’s hoverboard until it was too late.

“Hey, watch—” Ekko started, his voice sharp with alarm before cutting off mid-sentence as the two of you collided.

You landed flat on your back with a groan, Viktor's precious schematics flying out of your bag. Ekko was quick to get up and extend a hand to help you up.

“Oh crap, I didn’t mean to—uh, are you okay?” Ekko asked with a sheepish grin.

“You should really watch where you’re going!” you snapped, brushing yourself off. Then your eyes locked. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they actually cared.

From then on, every return trip to Zaun seemed incomplete without bumping into him, either by accident or by his deliberate attempts to "run into" you.

𓆤 Ekko had mixed feelings about your constant back-and-forth trips. He understood why you had to be in Piltover so much—your apprenticeship under Viktor was important—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“You know, it’s kinda unfair,” he said one evening, as the two of you sat on the rooftop of a crumbling Zaun building. The view of the Undercity's twinkling lights stretched around you, and the new prototype of his hoverboard leaned against the nearby wall. “Piltover gets you all day, and Zaun just gets you at night.”

𓆤 Ekko loved your sharp mind. In fact, he found your involvement with Hextech fascinating, even if he teased you endlessly about being a “Piltover nerd.”

“Look at you, little Miss Zaunite Hextech Genius,” he’d say with a smirk as he watched you tinker with a device. “All fancy with your gears and crystals. Can you make something that doesn’t explode?”

You rolled your eyes.

“This is for science. Not for impressing you.”

“Oh, but you already impress me.” He’d wink, leaning over your shoulder to inspect your work. His genuine curiosity often led to him offering ideas that somehow worked, despite his lack of formal training. You suspected his innate knack for mechanics rivaled even Viktor’s.

𓆤 Ekko would often stop by you house in Undercity unannounced, bringing little gifts—scrap metal he thought you could use or metal flowers that he made with his own hands for you

𓆤 You, in turn, would surprise him with modifications for his hoverboard or gadgets to help the Firelights. His reaction to your gifts was always the same: pure delight.

𓆤 Leaving aside the jokes, he loved watching you work, claiming it was “like seeing genius in action.” You’d laugh and tell him to stop distracting you, but his presence always made the hours fly by.

𓆤 The two of you shared countless late-night conversations on rooftops, swapping dreams and fears.

𓆤 It started subtly. Ekko’s laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should have. His voice, the way he said your name, echoed in your thoughts while you worked. You found yourself doodling in the margins of your notes, spiraling into daydreams that left you blushing.

𓆤 Viktor initially didn’t think much of Ekko—at least not directly. He only knew of him through your constant chatter.

“Ekko said this really clever thing about—” “Ekko helped me figure out how to—” “Ekko...”

Eventually, Viktor sighed and set down his pen.

“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some guy,” he said, exasperation lacing his words.

“This one is different!” you protested, fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s honest, he’s sweet—”

“Please…”

“He would never do anything to hurt me!”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s also... brilliant. And kind... and handsome... and—”

“Oh shit, here we go again…” He exhaled, completely tired.

𓆤 The meeting happened in Piltover, under less-than-ideal circumstances. You’d convinced the Academy to grant you temporary access to the lab for a personal project, ostensibly Hextech-related. In truth, you were helping Ekko repair an broken stabilizer for the Firelights

You thought you were being sneaky. You were wrong.

Viktor appeared in the doorway, cane tapping against the marble floor. His eyes immediately landed on the device in Ekko’s hands and then flicked to you.

“And what,” he asked dryly, “is going on here?”

Ekko froze, looking like a child caught stealing candy. You scrambled to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked mess.

To your surprise, Viktor didn’t explode. Instead, he regarded Ekko with quiet intensity. After a long pause, he nodded.

“You have talent,” he said to Ekko. “Perhaps more than you deserve.”

Ekko grinned, clearly amused. “Thanks? I think?”

From then on, Viktor tolerated Ekko’s presence, though he would often sigh dramatically whenever you brought him up in conversation.

𓆤 The news of Viktor’s declining health hit you like a blow. For all his brilliance, your mentor was mortal, and the idea of losing him felt unbearable. You confided in Ekko, who held you as you cried, his quiet strength grounding you.

“He’s proud of you, you know,” Ekko said softly, stroking your back. “He might not say it, but he is.”

Those words stayed with you, offering comfort during the hardest days.

𓆤 As Viktor’s condition worsened, he grew more reflective. One day, he called you into his office. You found him gazing out the window, his frail frame silhouetted against the light.

“You’ve been a good apprentice,” he said without turning around. “Better than I deserved.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, your throat tight.

He turned to face you, his expression soft despite the lines of pain etched into his face.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding day.”

Your eyes widened.

“What—?”

“I’m not blind,” he said with a faint smile. “Or deaf. That boy... he makes you happy.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“He does.”

“Then go to him,” Viktor said gently. “And live. Live, my dear. Work, yes, but also live. With him.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[lemonmaid]

A snip i need to get out of my head before bed. (Warnings pregnant reader, not proofed read, I'm so fucking tired)

Poly 141 x pregnant reader.

When you told the boys that you were pregnant, many many emotions but not one was negative towards you.

Johnny was excited, immediately thinking of names and happy that they almost have enough people for a football team (john thinks rugby would be a better sport but who is asking).

Simon who is immediately nervous due to his own family issues, he knows therapy can help with this but he'll be damn if he is ever like his father.

Kyle who is immediately thinking why it is important to know who the father is, even if he isn't the bio dad he is still gonna buy the proper hair products just in case.

John who is already crying, he is a big papa bear now and he couldn't be more happy.

Over the course of your pregnancy, the boys are literally waiting hand and foot for you.

Simon refuses to let you do anything on your own. You want to help with the nursery? No sit down and rest. You need to bend down and grab something you dropped? Nah call him even if he is at work.

John is up your ass about you doing exercises and taking your prenatal vitamins. He wakes you up at eight in the morning to do a light work out for your core muscle then makes you wind down for bed by 9 pm.

Johnny is always ready to make a snack run, even if John is against it, hell he even got back up emergency snacks in the car. Even though you all share an Alaskan king bed, reach over and shove him awake so he can do a quick errand.

Kyle is always with you when you are shopping, 100% he will agree with you on any clothing for the baby, you want the cutest expensive baby towel that is good for eczema? No problem. You think we should do cloth diapers? You're absolutely right, save nature.

When you have to get a body pillow/pregnancy pillow to support your stomach the boys are upset that they can't cuddle you without the pillow being in the way (or the little shit kicks them and it hurts you).

The boys love, LOVE it when you wear tight shirts, I mean look at that adorable bump and Jesus christ your breast have gotten so big.

Speaking of breast, Johnny is always looking at you like a kicked dog when you don't let him "help" you pump.

Please tell them when something hurts. Because these boys take everything too serious. When you started having braksion hicks, they were so paranoid. It got to a point where when you were in labor you didn't tell them untill they were 5 minutes apart. Which freaked them out, rushing you to the hospital.

The boys are 100% supportive of your birth plan, they really are.

But as soon as the contractions hit and they see your pained expression, they are immediately second guessing.

John is bluntly telling you to take the epidural.

Simon is rubbing your back telling you that there is no reward for having a natural birth.

But, you progress, practicing your breathing exercises, you've been training for this moment. You decided to bounce and roll on the yoga ball that was offered in the room, it help with the pressure.

Johnny is the one who has been trying to sneak you food, happy wife (or partner) happy life. But Kyle is nagging him how you cannot have food when you are close to labor (you're only 2 cm and it's been four hours).

Simon is encouraging you to sleep and rest, when you obviously can't Johnny is helping you recheck the diaper bag for the tenth time that night.

Kyle who is walking with you up and down the hall, purposely walking down the hall with the window where you can see the other newborns.

John who is now having panic attack, 'oh god I'm going to be a father'.

When it's finally time to start pushing, one of the nurses tries pushing out the others, thinking that John is the father. It wasn't untill your midwife told them to leave them be and that they can stay.

Simon and John who are holding your hands as you pushed, Johnny is playing with your hair to help distract you from the pain and Kyle is wiping your forehead.

When everyone hears the sharp cry that echoes in the room, the gasp is heard, when the newborn is placed on your chest, they can't help but shed a tear.

Simon and Johnny are telling you that you did an amazing job. Kyle is kissing your head, comforting your cries, John is watching the nurses every move with the newborn.

They all couldn't be more happier.

[parkersgarage]

a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[tsuyuryu]

Gods, this post hits me hard. REALLY hard. Because although I don't write a lot of fanfic, I did write A LOT of original stories along 15-16 years, stories that received practically no attention, no love, and no comments. I don't know if people liked them, if someone read them or not, and one day I came to the realization that I'll never know, because nowadays people don't even bother commenting. When I posted saying I was quitting and deleting everything, a couple people said "please, no, I'm reading"... And then disappeared from the face of the earth and never left even a like. I felt discouraged and depressed seeing such an important part of me, something I put my effort and Energy into, be si easily ignored by about everyone, as if I wasn't deserving of a few minutes to leave me a message. Was I that bad of a writer? Were my stories so terrible no one wanted to interact with them? With me?

So I quitted, too. It pained me, but I couldn't bear the hurt of people not caring.

Most of the people don't realize how important it is to say your favorite author/fanficker/artist how much you appreciate what they do. Many times, that is the only thing keeping us going among real life problems, work, writers block... I sure as hell would have kept going, kept dreaming about self publication and printing, if only A SINGLE PERSON chose to leave something as simple as "I like this, thank you". It is no different for fics. We do all this for free, we share it to connect with others and share stories we enjoy making; I think the least you, as a reader, could do, is to make yourself known by leaving a little of love in the comments section. It means the world to any artist, I swear.

Sorry about my rant. As I said, this topic hits me hard and I needed to write my opinion on all this. And man do I feel sorry for that fanfic author... I know that feeling all too well, and I hope someday they can write again and enjoy it again.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[bonefall]

"How big should a Clan territory be?"

For the dozens of people who have asked this over the last couple of years!

This question comes in a lot of forms; "How big are the Clan territories?" "How much space does one Clan need?" "How much land should I give my Clans to exist in?" The answer is a bit complicated, and depends on the type of land, what you're going for exactly, the setting, so on.

But, broadly, there's TWO particular factors at play here; How anthropomorphic you're portraying your warriors, and how productive the land is.

Factor 1: The Anthro Scale

I'm starting with this one because it could you the simpler answer. The Erins write Clan cats like humans in cat bodies, with massive social units and communal living. Realistic feral cats don't act like Clan cats. They are only semi-social, due to domestication.

See, a Clan cat will "share" territory between all of its members, and some Clans have canonically hit populations of over 50 individuals. Real feral colonies consist of "overlapping circles" of somewhere between 2 - 15 cats, most of them related females.

This is relevant because, even in densely populated areas with as much food as they can eat, truly feral colonies will have about 2 cats per 5 acres, capping out at about 15 members. Queens will hang out together and raise their kittens communally, but they will hunt and patrol in their own "circle." These boundaries are violently enforced against outside cats, especially if it's too crowded.

(Toms have circles 5x as big as a queen's, overlapping several territories. They're also considerably less social.)

So, if you wanted to incorporate some cat behavior into your Clan's mindset about how big their territory should be, while still being willing to sacrifice a bit of "realism" for groups over 15-ish members, simply take Clan population and multiply it by 2.5 acres.

30 cats = 75 acres. That's a little under 57 football fields, if you're American, or 50 football fields, if you're European.

Extra reading: How realistic cat territories work. Contains the numbers I'm referencing.

It's also very important to know; feral cat density is completely tied to food availability, the big numbers numbers are for cats whose needs are met. Cats are solitary hunters, and when they feel like they have to work for their food, they become VERY territorial. The density of cats in rural areas can be as low as 1 molly per 15 acres, even lower for toms, and they will leave if hunting is not easy.

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NOT FEED FERAL CATS. Please GOD they are SO invasive, please do not give colonies food, they still hunt when they're full so you just end up concentrating a ton of predators in one place. They are not warriors with a law against disrespecting food, they are just kitty cats with silly kitty instincts

I have a suspicion that most of the people who are asking the question aren't really looking for a "realistic cat" answer, though. We LOVE our big cat Clans with their complicated politics around here. You're probably wondering how much land you need to feed your population!

Factor 2: Land Productivity

The exact amount of space is going to vary a lot, because it's more about productivity of the land to sustain a prey population than it is raw size. Remember what we learned back in Warrior Bites: Dietary Needs; a 30-cat Clan will need approximately 3 pounds of meat (10,500 calories) per day, which is about 2 rabbits, or 105 mice.

Here's some visual examples of what I mean. This one (1) acre homestead...

Has 20 patches of high-value crops, plus an orchard, AND livestock pens. This territory alone could attract enough crows, mice, rats, rabbits, and sparrows to feed all those cats daily. That's not even counting the humans themselves, who may be friendly enough to the colony to toss them kibble occasionally.

(this is why cats domesticated themselves. Even without the free food from the humans, farms are extremely productive hunting grounds.)

Meanwhile, the Edmonton Mall, which is a whopping five (5) acres...

Would be utterly barren. Best food you're going to get out of this wasteland is the leftovers humans toss out, and maybe the rats and pigeons that scavenge as well. It's 5x the space, and yet, infinitely harder to feed the same amount of cats.

So, the most helpful bit of advice I'm gonna give you is this; DON'T ask yourself "how big should this territory be?" You're starting with the wrong question. Start with a real location, and think about how you'd find 3 pounds of meat a day in that area.

It will be a LOT easier to think about the logistics in those terms, and this will lead you to the waaay more productive (and fun) worldbuilding questions. Such as;

"Where would the good hunting spots be?"

"What kinds of animals would they be eating? What sorts of beasts can threaten them, here?"

"How many of these animals would my 30 cat Clan need to hunt a day to equal about 3 pounds?"

"Where would these animals be getting THEIR food?"

"Is there enough habitat in the area for the prey to breed and nest? If not, is there more land beyond the territory that the prey is coming from?"

"Where would infrastructure like dens, walls, and dirtplaces go? What would these be made of?"

"Are there any neat spots for the cats to casually hang out on?"

"What would make for a super cool arena for my climactic narrative boss fights?"

"Does this area have unique stage hazards that my cats would have to learn to deal with?"

"Which sorts of plants and herbs would they encounter?"

If your Clan is tool-using, like BB!Clans are, then you can ask even more advanced questions. Like, where you'd find kindle for fire, what objects you can use as crafting materials, and what might make for unique trade goods.

Think about other things related to your Clan's biome-- in a tundra or desert, there will be less for prey to eat, so the territory will be large to cope with the low density. If there's a major body of water, they might have a constant supply of aquatic prey from upstream. Hunting grounds might change based on the seasons.

Also remember not to underestimate how fast small animals breed, and how many of them there can be in one area. Even using low estimates, 1 female mouse has 6 pups, 7 x 6 = 42, 42 x 6 = 252, 252 x 6 = 1,452. It takes only 4 months for mouse population growth to get exponentially ridiculous.

Finally, remember that prey can vary. A well run Clan would be able to generally understand when they've been overhunting one particular species, and start shifting gears to lift the "pressure" off that population.

(In my cultural expansions series, this management task is assigned to one of the new roles-- the Head of Hunting.)

[marsdql]

ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋs

ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ soft!jay x reader | fluff, comfort ᯓᡣ𐭩 | wc: less than 2.0k?? Idk//drabble 𐙚 | synopsis: jay coming home to you sobbing on your desk because of all the stress caused by school/work and making you feel better.

It was past midnight, you’ve been studying since you came back from work and can’t seem to finish anything despite all the hours already wasted on your projets that were supposed to be finished days ago.

Usually you’d sort something out, organise everything and make a plan, but today as different, you were overwhelmed, all sorts of emotions coming to you at once. Your boyfriend Jay hadn’t come home from his job yet, leaving you with your own thoughts.

Being the sensitive person you are, you just let yourself be at this point, letting all the tears come out and drip onto the sheets on paper under you, like if nothing mattered anymore. You let yourself cry, trying to be quiet as If anyone could hear you.

Jay finally came home, his car keys jiggling in his hand before putting them down on the coffee table. You didn’t even notice the door open, too lost in your emotions. He walked slowly into your shared bedroom, assuming you were asleep, but to his surprise, you were there on the desk with your face buried in your hands as u try to stop your mouth from making any loud noises.

He paused for a moment, taking in what was happening—your hunched shoulders, your trembling hands and just the fact you aren’t in bed yet. He walked slowly towards you. “Hey.. what’s wrong? Sweetheart talk to me” he said, crouching a little to get your height, attempting in getting you to look at him.

Just as you heard his soft voice, all your tears came crashing down faster, your brain telling you that your boyfriend had a long day and now he comes home needs to deal with you. “I-im s’sorry j-jay.. I can’t” choking on your sobs, not being able to get a word out.

“Hey, talk to me, it’s okay im right here, what’s wrong? Comon baby come ‘ere ” He slowly grabs you closer to him, getting you to sit in between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. You can barely talk, your sobs suffocating you. “Jay… I can’t do anything… i’m. I’m I can’t I just can’t. None of my teammates helped me on this project now I have to do it alone and it’s due tomorrow. I don’t know what to do I can’t do anything right im so behind in everything..” you blurt out as you catch your breath, proceeding to cry even harder right after you finish your sentence.

You changed your position, your chin on his shoulder, not wanting him to see your red face and puffy eyes, but he doesn’t mind your shyness, not wanting you to feel even worse in this vulnerable moment. “Baby, you don’t deserve any of this. My sweet girl— you’re working so hard im so so proud of you, your teammates don’t deserve you. You’ll finish this project it’s okay, just calm down..”

“Jay….” You whined, hugging him a little closer. “Mmhm baby? You ‘wanna rest? It’ll make you feel better, who cares about a project, your health is more important right now.” he said before moving you up into the bed, tucking you in knowing that you were too tired to protest. He gently placed your head off his shoulders and onto the pillow, exposing you face, making him rub your tear stains off with his thumb.

Right before tucking you fully in, he noticed the water on your nightstand, quickly grabbing it and making you drink some before dozing off, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held the bottle with one hand and rubbing your back with the other. “Poor girl.. you’ve been too hard on yourself.” “Just a little bit more, good job—let’s get you sleep now, hm?”. As you finished drinking water, you quickly laid on him, signaling that you may need a little more affection tonight compared to the others.

He let out a soft chuckle, pulling you closer and adjusting the blanket over both of you. “Alright, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. His hand continued its gentle rhythm on your back, grounding you in his warmth.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, his breath tickling your hair. “No need to carry so much on your shoulders—just let it go for tonight.”

You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he hummed softly, a melody you couldn’t quite place but felt comforting all the same. The weight of the day melted away as his presence wrapped around you, every whispered word and tender touch assuring you that you were exactly where you needed to be.

And as your breathing slowed, matching his, you felt your worries dissolve, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing he would stay there with you until the morning light.

———————————————————————————

It’s nearly 2am I’m half alseep, I am so sorry for whatever mistakes I made here..

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Sajda 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Lando found his greatest love at the worst time. Yet she would always be there with him.

♥ ln x desi!reader [important author's note below] ʚɞ

♥ angst + fluff ʚɞ

♥ tw: death [lemme know if there's anything else] ʚɞ

author's note: i know this says desi!reader, but there's only one thing in hindi that y/n says, and the meaning of it will be revealed later, so y'all can read this, despite it being a desi!reader. and, this is kinda long (that's what she said). the max i mention in this is max f, unless i mention otherwise.

masterlist ☾☼

lando had met y/n in the most unusual way possible. he'd been in a cafe, waiting for his coffee and scone, when he'd seen her walk in. she hadn't looked anything extraordinary to anyone. she looked like the average university student with too many books, and not enough hands to hold them. yet somehow, lando had been intrigued by her. he'd seen many college students around in monaco, yet something about her had made him forget about everyone else, and everything else.

he'd watched, even though he didn't want to come across as a creep, as she fell into a nearby seat, resting her arms and breathing heavily. lando didn't know why she was breathing so heavily. she hadn't ran in, and the weight of her books couldn't have been so much that it was physically draining her.

lando waited for someone to offer her water, but no one did. she was hunched over, her chest falling and rising rapidly, and he couldn't sit back anymore. quickly walking over to the counter, lando requested for a bottle of water, apologising for not ordering at the cash counter. the woman had been kind enough to hand him a bottle, and just said that she would bill it later, before he left.

thanking the woman, lando walked over with the bottle in hand. she was still hunched over, her hand to her chest, and she was still breathing too heavily. he knocked on her table twice, making her head shoot up, staring at him. wordlessly, he offered the bottle to her. she hesitated, but grabbed it, and quickly drank from it, almost finishing the whole thing in one go.

"thank you," she said. her accent was different, and her voice was soft and velvety and kind.

"are you okay?" lando asked.

she nodded, "i am now,"

"would you like help with anything?"

she stared at him for a few seconds, "i'm not accepting help from a stranger,"

lando's eyes widened, "oh, i'm so sorry. i'm lando, it's nice to meet you." he held his hand out for her to shake.

"i know who you are. i follow f1," she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. staring at her smaller hand in his, lando noticed her ln bracelet.

"so, i take it you like how i drive?" lando smirked, a little cocky.

her eyes narrowed, "sometimes."

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "what do you mean 'sometimes'?"

"well, y'all are mighty rich and arrogant, and i'd rather not give you the satisfaction by saying i'm a fan of yours," she said, taking her hand back from his. lando hadn't even realised that he was still holding onto her hand.

"that seems ru-" lando broke off when he saw her fighting a smile. he smiled as well, shaking his head.

"i'm y/n. and, i am a fan of yours," she introduced herself, a teasing smile on her lips.

she had a dimple, like lando did, and out of everything that he had noticed in the few minutes, her dimple was his favourite.

"would you like to join me? i could order you something?" lando asked bashfully.

"just because i'm a college student doesn't mean i'm broke," she said dryly.

his eyes widened, and he rushed to correct himself, to let her know that he didn't mean it like that, and he just wanted to do something nice. but then, she laughed. a loud laugh and lando froze.

that laugh, her laugh, was more beautiful than the sound of any of his cars. her laugh was more beautiful than hearing his national anthem at the top step. her laugh was more beautiful than anything he had ever heard, and he wished he had recorded it because he wanted to listen to that laugh till he died.

"i'm just kidding. thank you, i'd appreciate it." she said, still smiling.

she was shorter than him, and almost looked fragile. lando hated himself for thinking like that, given his history of dealing with bullying, but her arms were thin and he worried. he worried for a girl he met a few minutes ago.

lando picked up her books, as she grabbed her bag and the bottle of water. he led her to the seat he had previously occupied. he gently kept her books on the table, and pulled out the chair for her, being a true gentleman.

"you don't have to worry about me being the bus stop girl. i won't lie on the internet," y/n said, and lando burst out in laughter. he liked her. he liked her dry humour.

"no, go ahead and lie, i'd be fine with it," he said, as he settled into the chair across from her.

"you're not worried that i'm some crazy fan who's going to go on twitter and tiktok and i don't know where else to post a made up story about you?" she asked, settling into the seat.

somehow, she looked smaller in it, and lando felt the need to protect her, to make her realise just how much space was available for her to occupy because he didn't like that she was shrinking herself.

"are you going to?" he retaliated.

y/n smirked, "i might,"

"then, i'd like to see how creative you can get."

she smiled, showing her dimple again, and lando thought for a moment if she would scream at him if he asked to take a picture of her dimple.

the woman from the counter placed his coffee and his scone on the table, and turned to y/n, asking if she needed anything. y/n ordered for a coffee, and apologised for not ordering at the cash counter.

the woman hushed her, as if it was an every day occurrence for the two women.

"do you come here often?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

she nodded, "every day. it's the cafe closest to my apartment, so i spend a lot of time here."

lando's head tilted in confusion, "how come i've never seen you before then?"

"maybe you weren't looking for me then," she was flirting. lando wasn't sure. but he hoped she was.

"maybe i wasn't ready for you before. the universe does work in mysterious ways, y'know,"

she leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye, "oh, honey, you're never going to be ready for the storm i am,"

he laughed once again, and he liked that. the pressure of the world championship was catching up to him, despite his efforts to not let it affect him. he hadn't properly laughed like this in a while, but somehow, he was glad that he was laughing with her, a woman he met a half hour ago.

they kept talking, making each other laugh, falling into comfortable silences, asking questions just to get to know the other better. they didn't speak much about lando's job, or why she was breathing so heavily when he had first approached her. the two recognised that those were uncomfortable topics.

lando knew that y/n, as a fan, would have her own opinions, and while he didn't know what she thought of his driving or his team or his teammate or anyone on the grid, he also knew that he didn't want to hear it. the world had an opinion on everything but they didn't know the truth, and lando refused to get influenced by the opinions of someone who had no idea what happened behind cameras.

y/n had also subtly changed topics any time it came close to her breathing, or her general exhaustion. lando desperately wanted to know, but he didn't want to overstep, especially because this was a friendship he wanted to keep in his life.

lando had stayed at the cafe way longer than he was supposed to, but he didn't really mind, and he knew that max would understand. when y/n began packing up, ready to leave, he shyly asked for her number, and asked if he would see her again.

"you're a lot more confident on social media than you are in real life," she mused, a soft smile on her lips letting him know that she wasn't judging, but instead, just making an observation.

"i know what people want me to be online. it doesn't always mean that's who i am,"

"wise words, mister norris,"

lando ducked his head, "thank you, miss y/l/n,"

she had given him her number, quickly calling her phone to make sure that she had it as well. just as she turned to leave, she hesitated for a second, and lando watched, not wanting to miss a second of her existence.

she was second guessing herself, he knew, but nothing could have prepared him for when she leaned up slightly, her hand on his arm, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before turning away and walking out.

lando stood there frozen, a goofy smile on his face, feeling excited about seeing her again.

the two fell into an easy friendship. lando found out that y/n tended to sleep quite often, and because of that, she used every little energy she had in studying and maintaining her gpa. he found out that she was from india, and was attending university here on a scholarship. he found out that her favourite drink was hazelnut coffee, with a lot of whipped cream. she was a sucker for kinder, just like he was. he found out that she was bad at texting, often leaving him on delivered for hours, sometimes days, though she always apologised profusely and said that it was out of her control most of the time. lando also found out that he forgave her quite easily.

they spent most of their time at the cafe, sometimes working together in silence, sometimes she explained to him what she was studying with a passion he hadn't seen anywhere else. sometimes, they just talked about everything and nothing, and it became lando's favourite thing.

when it was time for lando to head to the mtc for work, to focus on the last three races, he had felt gutted. he wouldn't see her anymore, and he hadn't realised just how much of his mood had began depending on her. the day before he left, he walked her back to her apartment, refusing to let her walk alone in the dark.

outside of her apartment building, she pulled him in a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. she had dropped her bag on the floor, just so she could hug him. lando immediately wrapped his arms around her neck, keeping her to him.

they didn't say anything, just breathed each other in. it wasn't goodbye, lando knew that, yet it felt like it. it felt like a goodbye, and lando was not ready to let her go just yet, no matter the reason.

as she began to pull away from him, he pressed a kiss to her hair, holding her for just another second, before he let her go.

"i'll see you soon, yeah?" he whispered.

she smiled, biting her lip. his gaze focused on her lip, and he desperately wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't. he shouldn't.

"win for me, will you?" she said softly.

he smiled, "as long as you keep letting me know you're alive and well,"

her smile faltered, and lando immediately wondered what he said, what was going on in her brain.

she smiled brightly again, and nodded. she pressed a kiss to his cheek, like she did every time she went back home. and, like every time, he froze, smiling goofily.

lando watched as she picked up her bag and walked inside the building. he watched, half because she was mesmerising, and half because he wanted to make sure that she was safe.

when he was travelling, lando and y/n fell into a similar routine. since they weren't able to meet face to face, they were on facetime almost constantly. the only time they weren't on facetime was when either of them were sleeping, or lando was training or in a meeting. she had gotten better at texting as well, keeping him updated about everything and anything. she let him know when she'd be unavailable for their facetime calls, and lando understood.

lando felt deeply for her. he knew that his feelings for her were romantic. he hoped that she felt the same for him. but, the more rational part of him also knew that if he wanted to be with her for a long term, he'd have to be her friend first. he'd have to build that solid foundation with her first.

for y/n, he was willing to wait as long as she wanted.

of course, she never said or indicated anything regarding her feelings towards him. at the end of the day, lando wanted to be a part of her life in any way that she would want him. he'd never felt like this before, had never felt this insane need to be around someone, to have someone in his bubble all the time. he didn't understand this feeling very well, had never experienced something like this before.

he'd confided in max. he explained to his best friend every emotion and every thought that ran through him when he was with her, and when he was away from her. his best friend admitted to never seeing lando like this, but also said that he was happy to see his best friend so enamoured with someone.

max's advice had been to take it slow, and to be friends with her till she asked or indicated otherwise. when pietra and ria had agreed with him, lando knew for sure that that was the best course of action. he didn't want to overwhelm her. he didn't want to make her feel like he was expecting anything more than what she was willing to give. he'd hate himself if his actions drove her away.

so, he took it slow.

he sent her pictures from his day, and voice notes at the end of the day. he kept her on facetime, saying that he needs company as an excuse. as if he wasn't surrounded by his mechanics and engineers. he texted her before he got in the car, and he texted her after he got out. he sent her memes, and he flirted a little bit.

and, she did the same. she sent him pictures from her day, letting him know when she was at the cafe. sometimes, he'd recognise his coffee order and scone, and wondered if she missed him the way he missed her. she indulged in his excuse and stayed on facetime with him. she listened to all his voice notes, and responded to them. she texted him every time he was on track, giving him a live update of everything that was going on in her head. sometimes, she flirted back too. she didn't do it often, but she flirted back, and it always made lando smile.

after the season had ended, lando stayed in monaco as much as possible. he missed his family, and he missed his friends for sure. but, he needed to be in y/n's presence like he needed oxygen.

during his off months, y/n's family had come to visit her, and she couldn't stay out much. so, they changed their routine a little. every night, after dinner, lando would meet her at the entrance of her apartment building, and the two would take a walk, sometimes getting ice cream on the way, for an hour or two.

she always made him laugh. and, she laughed just as much. he still wanted to record that sound, and play it over and over and over, till he didn't remember anything but that sound. his feelings had grown stronger over time. she hadn't given any indication of wanting a romantic relationship with him, and he hadn't pushed. he kept his flirting to a minimum as well, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

during one of their walks, y/n had informed lando that her family were going on a trip somewhere, and that she wouldn't be able to talk to him much. he had understood, remembering the stories she'd told of her parents and how they often told her to stay away from her phone. lando planned his trip to his parents' place at around the same time, as well.

he was determined not to miss a single second he could have with her.

the trip she'd taken with her family was three weeks long. they kept up the same routine as race weekends. though, this time, it didn't include facetime calls. he sent her voice notes and pictures regularly, and she responded, though, often really late, and sounding more tired than ever. she shared pictures sometimes, informing him that most pictures were on her brother's phone because he had a better camera than she did.

nonetheless, their bond remained strong.

max called him whipped. carlos said something similar. but he knew that they knew just how important this woman was to him. they hadn't seen anything like it before, and he hadn't felt anything like this before.

despite his efforts of spending every possible second with her, lando had been an f1 driver. meaning, he had to be at the mtc often, especially to meet sponsors and work with his team before the pre-testing.

even though she had never asked or indicated anything, lando bought her gifts to make up for the time he lost with her. she would always laugh, but would accept the gift. in the beginning, she had put up a fight, telling him that it was too much and that he didn't need to. lando was stubborn, and eventually, she'd sighed and accepted it.

just like that, a year passed.

lando was there for her graduation, clapping when she went on stage and received her diploma. lando was there when she found her first job. he was there to drop her off and pick her up on her first day. he was there with ice cream every time she told him that she felt drained, and the two would watch a movie. he was there for every big and every small moment. as much as he could, at least.

she was there every time he came home after a race. she was there every time he was frustrated with the team, with himself, with the media. she was there every time they went to a seafood restaurant, and only ever ordered spring rolls. she was there at the cafe, his coffee and scone ready whenever he was running late. she was there when he was homesick. she was there when he'd be streaming, just sitting close to him. she was there for every quadrant shoot, giving him her ideas as well. she was there for every game night, every movie night, every little party he had. in her own way, she was there with him like no one else had ever been there.

it was so easy being friends with her, sometimes lando forgot that his crush had turned into him being in love with her. it was so easy being with her, that sometimes, lando forgot about his own feelings, only ever focused on her voice and her smile and her hands and everything about her.

she was weak some days, reminding him of the day they'd met, with her breathing so heavily. she would always tell him that it was her time of the month, and these were just some symptoms. lando had grown up with two sisters, but he had never seen anything like what y/n was going through. he had asked his sister if it was normal to be feeling like that during their cycles. his sister had reassured him that it was different for every woman, and as long as y/n said she was fine, she truly was fine.

but, it all came crashing down one day.

lando hadn't expected it. in fact, it happened during a race, and lando was unaware.

he'd had a good race, one that he was proud of. immediately after changing, lando had checked his phone, frowning when there were no messages from y/n. that had been odd, because y/n texted him during each race. she had been doing so consistently for the past year. to suddenly not have a single text from her, not even a good luck text, had worried him.

his flight was scheduled for back home the next morning. if she didn't pick up his call, lando was sure that he would jump on the next flight out and rush home just to check on her.

the ringtone was loud in his ear, even though the volume on his phone wasn't. his heart was beating erratically again, for a completely different reason as before. usually, he loved feeling his heartbeat everywhere, feeling the rush of it in his veins when he was in the car. now, though? he hated the feeling.

she picked up at the final ring. lando breathed out a sigh of relief.

"y/n? are you okay? you didn't text me during the race and i got worried," he said.

she paused for a second on the other side, and lando frowned.

"um, this is her friend. she's in the hospital, actually," the voice was low, but it seemed to echo in his ears.

hospital? what? why? what had happened?

"what?" he croaked out, his body working on autopilot as he stuffed his things in his bag.

"she was fine in the morning, but her condition got a little worse, and we had to get her to the hospital," her friend said.

"condition? what condition?" lando was freaking out.

"she didn't tell you?"

"no! she didn't! is she okay?"

"she'll be okay eventually. at least, that's what the doctor said."

lando asked for the hospital name, looking for flights at the same time.

as he left the paddock, zak and oscar stopped him, but lando didn't have time. he couldn't lose precious seconds.

"i'm really sorry, i have to go, i need to go," he didn't know what he was saying, or what he was doing. all he knew was that he needed to get to y/n as soon as possible.

"woah, woah, woah, lando," oscar said, grabbing lando's arms, holding him in place.

"what's wrong?" zak asked.

zak didn't know y/n, but oscar did. oscar knew her. oscar would understand. yes, oscar would help him.

eyes wide, lando said, "she's in the hospital. i have to go. i don't know what happened, osc, i have to go."

"okay, okay. give me your room key, i'll pack up your stuff and drop it off at your place tomorrow," oscar was calm. how was oscar calm?

"yes, yes, that's smart," lando immediately pulled out the room key card from his pocket, handing it to oscar.

"lando, deep breaths-"

"but, she's-"

"i know. but, you're not going to be of any help to her if you can't help yourself right now. deep breaths with me,"

lando copied oscar's breathing pattern, his hands holding onto oscar's arms. once the rushing blood in his ear subsided, lando nodded, gulping.

"she's going to be okay," oscar reassured him.

lando nodded, taking a step back, ready to turn and leave. just before he began running, he turned quickly, hugging oscar, thanking him. before oscar could hug back, lando was running.

the wait was excruciating. the wait in the taxi going to the airport. the wait at the airport for his flight. the wait in the flight. the wait in the taxi going to the hospital. it was eating him alive, and every single cell in his body was vibrating with fear.

in the midst of his panic, he had managed to text max and carlos, his two closest friends, letting them know of the situation. he knew that carlos was probably asleep by now, and would see the message in the morning, but max had responded immediately, instructing lando to let him know if he needed anything.

when he reached the hospital, he immediately ran to the front desk, asking for y/n. the nurse standing there almost looked afraid of him. his eyes were red, his hair unruly. he hadn't slept at all after the race, and hadn't eaten anything either. he felt weak, but he needed to see y/n. he needed to see his y/n.

before the nurse could say anything, a voice called his name. turning, he saw y/n's friend, the one who had answered her phone. rushing towards her, he let out his frenzy list of questions.

"is she okay? what happened? when did it happen? what did the doctor say?"

her friend didn't say anything, just quietly led him to her room. the wait to her room was excruciating as well, somehow worse than when he was on the flight.

standing outside her room, her friend turned to him and said, "it isn't my story to tell. it's hers. but, know this, lando, being with her, as a friend or boyfriend or whatever, it's with a ticking time bomb. one day, she is going to leave us. if you go in that room, know that you will have to prepare yourself for when the time runs out and it all explodes."

he heard her words. he registered them. maybe he should walk away. save himself the pain that would come with her inevitably leaving. he could. very easily, in fact. she wasn't awake. she didn't know he was here. he could ask her friend to not mention anything about him, and he could turn around and leave. he could.

but he didn't. why didn't he? why couldn't he? he knew he loved her the first day he met her. he knew he wanted to be in her life for as long as she wanted. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather hold her hand till it went slack and cold. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather love her, just so she went with a smile.

his hand was on the doorknob, and he turned it, pushing the door open.

she had tubes attached to her, and the steady beating of her heart was heard through the beeping. she looked small and frail. she looked like she would turn to dust if he touched her. her skin was pale, and her bones were so clearly visible. oh, his sweet y/n.

dropping his bag at the side, he sat on the chair beside her bed, slowly, carefully, picking up her hand, holding it, running his fingers over and over them, making sure she was real.

tears streamed down his face. why hadn't he noticed any of it before? why hadn't he pushed her for information when she changed the subject? he knew something hadn't been right, but he was stupid enough to ignore it. how could he have been so stupid?

lando's head rested on the bed beside their joined hands, sobs wracking his body. he had felt pain before. he had felt pain when his grandmother passed. he had felt pain when he read the hate comments about him. he had felt pain then. this pain was something he hadn't felt before, something that was completely incomparable.

he must've fallen asleep right there, the exhaustion of the race and the travel, the stress of all of it combined draining him physically and mentally. he woke up with a jerk, his neck aching. wiping the corner of his mouth, his eyes fell on the sleeping figure on the bed.

except she wasn't sleeping anymore.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, standing over her and checking every single part of her that he could see, as if the condition she had was external.

"i'm sorry i didn't watch the race. how'd you do?" she whispered, smiling gently.

lando huffed out a laugh, "as if i care about the race anymore," leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"you scared me, lovie," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

"told you i was a storm you weren't ready for," she smiled, and god, lando wanted to kiss her. he wanted to kiss her so desperately.

"oh, you are a storm, alright, but i'm more than ready for you," he said, pulling back and settling on the uncomfortable chair again.

he stared at her for a few seconds, a little bit of his tension falling away. "why didn't you tell me?"

she hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she attempted to explain to him, "i wanted to. at first i couldn't figure out how or when to tell you, and then i started worrying that if i did tell you, you'd leave. i didn't want you to leave,"

her voice was small, as if she was afraid that he would hear her, that he would confirm her fear. silly, silly girl.

he clasped her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her fingertips and he said, "y/n, i am crazy in love with you. have been from the day i met you. absolutely nothing will make me want to leave you,"

she stared at him, still chewing on her lip slightly, and then whispered, "what if i told you i had a dick?"

his brain froze for a second, but she smiled, and he laughed, and in his heart, everything was right again, "then, i'll figure out how sex works on the go,"

she laughed, and he smiled, and in his heart, the warmth spread again.

"do you really love me?" she asked, almost sounding broken.

"desperately," he said, without hesitation.

"you won't leave?"

"i'd rather drive with extremely old tyres on a wet track with no fireproofs than leave,"

she smacked his hand, "don't say that!"

"it's the truth,"

it was silent for a second.

"i love you too, by the way. i forgot to say that,"

lando laughed, "more than a friend?"

"way more than a friend,"

"y/n?"

"lando?"

"what condition do you have?" he was afraid of the answer. granted, he didn't know much about diseases and such. his knowledge of physical anatomy only went as far as understanding the risks of being an f1 driver and being in an f1 car.

"it's something complicated. it's a lifelong thing, and there's no particular cure for it. we found out in its early stages, which is why we started treatment early as well. the doctors told me that i'd have maybe twenty or thirty years more, but that death was inevitable. "

"oh,"

"yeah. my doctor in india recommended a specialist doctor here, and since my parents were already struggling a little bit with the costs, i got a scholarship, so that it was one less thing for them to worry about. i've made peace with the fact that i am going to die one day, lando. i know that it's going to happen, and i am ready for it."

"what if-"

"don't try and find a better doctor or something, lando. it's not going to work. whatever this is, it makes me physically weak and tired so easily. the walk from my apartment to the cafe sometimes tires me out so much. i can't breathe properly in it, i pass out way too often, i can't hold in any sort of food sometimes. my lungs hurt, and my arms and legs go numb, and it's a lot of things. and it's only going to result in one thing."

lando stayed silent. he didn't know what to say, and after everything that had happened in the past weekend, and now, his brain was taking time to process it.

"is that why you didn't reply to me for days sometimes? 'cause you were in the hospital?"

"mhmm,"

he tried not to cry. he really did. all he could think about was every time that he had assumed she was busy, or he had believed her excuses, she was all alone in a hospital with no one to take care of her, no one to protect her from this godforsaken condition. "why didn't you tell me? i could've been here with you? were you scared? did you have someone to hold your hand?"

"oh, lan," she cupped his cheek, as he sobbed.

"i'm gonna be here now. i'm gonna be with you now all the time. whatever happens, i'll be here, and i'll help you wherever you need me to,"

"you have a job, lando," she said softly.

"fuck that. i don't care about that anymore. i just care about you. don't leave me, please," lando was on his knees, holding onto her hand, sobbing as everything inside him broke.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu," she whispered.

"i don't know what that means, lovie," he sniffed, calming himself down, doing what oscar had done not twenty four hours ago.

"when i die-"

"y/n-"

"it's the truth, lando. when i die, look it up. okay?"

he nodded, promising her that he would.

things changed after that. of course it did.

lando spent every second possible with y/n, making sure that she was okay, and following the instructions she'd gotten from the doctor to rest more. he was there whenever she needed him, and now that she was more truthful about what was happening with her, lando realised just how much she had been hiding from him in the first place.

of course, lando had to go to the mtc for work often and the races, because it was his job at the end of the day, but he always made sure that she had someone with her, and had phone numbers of oscar, carlos, max f and max v, will and jon. any person who could easily get a hold of him when he was away.

he worried, and he knew she knew he worried. but she did love him for it. she told him so repeatedly. they hadn't kissed, even when weeks had passed from her last hospital visit where lando really found out about her condition. they hadn't kissed, and hell, they hadn't even talked about dating or anything of that sort.

lando supposed that they should, at least once. to clear out any misunderstandings, or to just be on the same page. but, they did have a mutual understanding that despite not talking about the change in their dynamic, they were together. like, together-together.

they still went on walks after dinner. it was the little bit of exercise that she got, and lando was determined to make sure that she was moving. the easiness between them was still present, except there was an added element of brushing fingers, casual touching, walking a step closer than normal. and then, it changed to holding hands when walking, which sometimes became lando's arm across her shoulder, tucking her to him, and sometimes it became her hand tucked in the inside of his elbow.

lando knew that people watched, that there were cameras everywhere, but with her, it was the least of his worries. it was during one of their walks when he kissed her for the first time.

he hadn't planned on doing it. she had ice cream stuck to her lip, and lando wanted. whether he wanted the ice cream or just her, he refused to acknowledge. he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, and they had been unable to wipe their smiles off their faces.

it felt like kissing once took away any tension between the two, because then, they were kissing all the time. little pecks of hi, i love you. make out sessions in his car or her apartment, or even the little alley beside her apartment building. forehead kisses when she felt particularly weak, or when she had to be in the hospital. love bites of when they got carried away, and then lando took pictures (but no one else had to know that).

they were happy. they deserved that happiness.

but the dark cloud was still looming over their heads, and as much as lando tried to avoid it, as much as he tried to forget about it, every trip to the hospital had reminded him that there was only one way their story was going to end and he needed to prepare himself for it.

every time, his girl saw him struggling. she knew. and every time, she only ever told him, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

he still didn't know what it meant. he had wanted to look it up, but he also remembered his promise to her. sometimes, late at night, when she would be asleep, curled up next to him, he would repeat the words over and over again in his head.

a year after they'd started dating, y/n made her official debut as his girlfriend at the monaco grand prix. she wasn't allowed to travel a lot, especially by air. the only few times that she travelled was when her parents had taken her to another doctor halfway across the world back when lando and her were still friends, or for when she visited india, which was also rare.

of course, his friends in the paddock had met her before. but, a lot of people were going to see her in person for the first time after only listening to lando talk about her non-stop.

she was immediately loved by everyone she met, and lando felt pride running through him. he was also a little aroused. the love of his life fit so well with his work life, it made him love her more.

before he got in the car, she pressed a kiss to his helmet and whispered the words again, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

the words sounded beautiful, and a part of lando hated that it was associated with something so haunting.

when he won the race, he immediately ran to her, picking her up, as she celebrated with the rest of the team as well. his helmet wasn't even off, before he was hugging her and begging her to move in with him.

she had agreed, because of course, she had.

so, they moved in soon after the race. lando didn't let her do much of anything, insisting that him and the boys had it under control. the boys being max f, carlos, ginge, niran, max v, oscar, and george. how that group of friends came together? lando didn't know. all he knew was that he texted on his chat groups about needing help getting her all moved in, and people showed up at her apartment with coffee and food in their hand.

soon after she was properly moved in, the couple had to christen their home, of course. lando had loved every giggle, every moan, every whimper she had given him. he had savoured every one of them, because as happy as he was, the fear was still rooted in him that it might be the last time he would ever hear it.

there were some days when her health was a lot worse. some days when lando thought that she was right at doorstep of death. she always came back to him, and for that he was eternally grateful. she would make some silly comment and laugh and joke with him, as if they weren't in a hospital room and she didn't have multiple tubes attached to her.

he indulged in her coping mechanism. lando understood the need to add humour to serious situations. he knew that while she was comfortable with the idea that she was going to die soon, she was still scared. she hadn't spoken to him about it explicitly, maybe to spare his feelings. but he noticed, with the way she was slowly making plans for the future for him without her. he noticed, with the way she began speaking about other women, women who would come after her.

he hated it. hated that she was still thinking about how he would live after her, when honestly, he didn't think he would be living after her. he would just be surviving, and he would just be breathing for the sake of it.

they did fight sometimes. mostly on the days when she was feeling more insecure about herself. those were usually the days she would cry, sitting in the corner of a room, hiding away from him. but he found her, he always did.

in fact, it was during one of those fights when lando asked her to marry him.

"maybe we shouldn't be doing this,"

"do what, lovie?" he was patient, and in the back of his mind, he knew what she was talking about, but he refused to acknowledge it unless she came out and said it herself.

"this. us."

"and why is that?" his lovie was a logical person, he knew that. between the two of them, he was more emotional than she was. it was during times like these, when her logic seemed to be on vacation, and her emotions sat at the control centre in her brain full time that lando began logical.

"lando, i'm going to die!"

"i'm aware." his responses were pissing her off, he knew. it was deliberate, though. he'd rather she felt anger than sadness.

"lando!" she yelled at him.

sighing, lando faced her, crossing his arms across his chest, his ankles crossed as well.

"we've been over this, y/n, i'm not leaving." he said firmly.

"you should! save yourself! for fuck's sake, why are you with a dying person?"

"don't say that."

"don't say what? that i'm dying? newsflash, lando, i am dying! i'm playing pretend with you, i'm pretending that i'm not going to die, just like you do-"

"i don't pretend. i know you're going to-"

"it doesn't seem like it!"

"then, what do you want me to do? do you want me to scream and cry and only ever think about you dying? y/n, i'm constantly worried about you-"

"i don't want you to be-"

"yeah, well, that's not in your hands, now is it? i love you. i chose to love you before i knew about your condition, i chose to love you even after you told me about it. i am choosing you every second of every day because i fucking love you. and if you can't see that, then i can't help you!" they were both screaming now.

"then, stop choosing me!"

he froze.

she continued, "stop choosing me. live your life. you're 30 for god's sake, you spent half of your twenties taking care of me. it's enough. go out and party. meet women who are healthy and don't need breaks in between of sex! be with someone who can come to all of your races instead of just one! be with someone normal!"

"stop telling me to go out and live my life, for god's sake! i am living my life! why can't you see that? i am living my life, right here, with you, because this is how i want to live it! i don't want someone healthy or whatever, i want you! why can't you understand that?"

"you're wasting time-"

"i'm spending my time perfectly. i get to decide that. i get to decide what's a waste of time and what's not. just because you think i'm wasting my time being with you does not mean that it's true. it does not mean that i think the same as you."

"lando, i don't want you to regret ruining your twenties or your thirties for me! i'm replaceable! i'm going to die, and you will find someone else, someone better, and you're going to regret me!"

he took big steps, covering the distance between them. he grabbed her jaw with one hand, his other arm going around her waist.

"the only thing i'm regretting right now is making you feel like any part of me would ever think of replacing you. y/n y/l/n, get this drilled into your fucking head. i am going to marry you. i am going to marry you and i am going to give you everything you could ever want, material and otherwise. i love you. i. love. you. there's nothing i'm wasting or regretting. hell, i have the ring in the sock drawer right now. was gonna do it on our anniversary. not anymore."

she was crying. god, he hated when she cried.

"i'm going to put that ring on your finger right now, and then i'm going to remind just how much i love you any way you want. i am not leaving. i never wanted to, i never will. do you understand?"

she nodded, as much as she could with his hand on her jaw, keeping her in place, "i understand."

"good." lando kissed her hard, desperate for her.

before the kiss could turn into something else, lando turned and quickly walked to their bedroom, and then the walk in closet. pulling open the sock drawer, lando pulled out the ring box, and returned to where she was still standing.

dropping to his knee, he opened the ring box and presented it to her, "i don't care how long we have. i just know that i have now with you, and i want every nows that you're willing to give me. marry me, lovie?"

she was crying, and lando hoped that it was tears of joy.

"yes, i'll marry you," she whispered. lando slid the ring onto her finger, kissing the back of her hand.

"thank you," he said.

she laughed, still crying, "did you just thank me for saying yes?"

"hey, you were a fan of me before we met, you know i'm a pain in the ass when it comes to relationships. you agreeing to marry me just proves that someone went back in time, moved a chair somewhere,"

she laughed again, and lando wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face in her neck.

"i love you so much, lovie. i hate that you can't see it. i love you so so much," he whispered.

"i'm sorry i keep pushing you to leave me. i'm sorry i keep doing that. i love you so much too," she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close to her.

pulling back a little, lando kissed her. and again, and again, and again. their plan to immediately text all their friends and families had to wait until the next morning. they got a little busy, they're a young couple, people understand.

things changed after that. she changed after that. in a good way. she was happier, and had more energy.

lando loved seeing her like that. she had almost immediately began wedding planning, sitting with both families, asking his opinions on things.

she wanted to do an indian wedding, and so they decided to do the "western" wedding, as she called it, before, and during one of the breaks, they would do the indian one as well, since that required more time.

she went ring shopping for him, went flower shopping, pulled him along for cake tasting, talked his ear off about invitations and venues, and just about everything. and lando loved it. he listened intently, he responded quickly, he gave his opinions, smiling when she said no and continued to plan the way she wanted.

it was during one of her family's visit to monaco that his future mother in law had confessed to him, "she always wanted to get married. we didn't know if she would ever have that opportunity. thank you for loving our daughter, lando,"

if lando cried while he hugged her, that was between him and his future mother in law.

the wedding date was in three months, and the closer the date got, the more excited, and healthier she got. three months had been the longest that she had stayed out of hospital. lando was thanking every deity in the universe for taking care of her.

the invitations had gone out, she had a bachelorette party, he had a bachelor party, their parents spent more and more time together, the love of his life was happy. everything was falling into place. slowly, but surely.

a week before the wedding, everything was set. the table chart was perfect, the photographers and videographers were set. lando planned to announce that he was married with a landolog. she had her dress, he had his tuxedo. she was going to stay over at her friend's place the night before the wedding. everything was perfect.

maybe lando said that too soon.

two days before the wedding is when it all went down.

the day had started normal. the couple woke up in bed, cuddling. they also did a little more than cuddling, before getting ready for the day. they cooked breakfast together, chocolate chip pancakes, and danced to music playing from the bluetooth speaker.

it was when she stood up with the plates from the table that she began to feel dizzy.

"lovie? you okay?" lando asked, a hand on her back, concern all over his face.

"um, i'm just a little dizzy, i think," she said.

lando immediately got up from his place, taking the dishes from her hand, and settling them on the table again.

"babe, look at me," he instructed softly.

she did as he asked, but her head began spinning more, and she felt like she was going to throw up, and her body was hurting.

"hurts, everything hurts, lan,"

he'd done this hundreds of time in the past four years. he knew the process, he knew who to call, what to do, everything. but still, panic flooded through him. a bad, bad feeling settled in his gut, and he knew something was going to be horribly wrong.

sitting her down, lando ran to their bedroom, throwing a tshirt on, picking up the emergency hospital bag, and grabbed his car keys. going back, he gently picked her up. she was crying now, mumbling about how it was all hurting too much, and she didn't know how to stop it.

he drove way over the speed limit. whatever ticket he would get, he was fine with it. he didn't care at that moment. on his way, he called up his mom, letting her know that he was taking y/n to the hospital, and asked her to let her family know, and to let max and carlos know.

they immediately admitted her when he reached the hospital. they told him that she was in critical condition and that he wouldn't be allowed to see her. he begged, argued with them that he was her fiance, that they had to let him see her. the doctors refused, and lando ended up sitting in the waiting room, leg bouncing, his head in his hand, trying not to cry, not to lose hope.

their families had arrived quickly, along with max and carlos. they asked him what the doctor said, he repeated the message like a robot.

his mother sat on one side, and he immediately leaned his head on her shoulder. she was saying something. they were all saying something. but, he couldn't hear them. he couldn't hear them anything other than the blood rushing, other than his pounding heart.

it was after hours when the doctor finally came back, calling out her name. their big group stood up all at once, desperate to know whether their daughter, their sister, their friend, his fiance was okay or not.

before the doctor could say a word, lando knew. lando knew what had happened, lando knew. the grim face, the head shake. he said something, something like, "i'm sorry, we couldn't save her. her condition got way worse, and we just couldn't control it."

the doctor was saying words. her mother was wailing, her father and her brother trying to console her. someone ran out, her friend maybe. lando didn't know for sure. the doctor kept apologising.

he fell to the floor, his heart hurting, his head hurting. he was crying. maybe. he wasn't sure. he didn't know. maybe he was crying. maybe he was sobbing. maybe he was saying something. maybe maybe maybe. all he knew that max had his arms around him, and all he knew was that his father was saying something in his ear. carlos' hands were on his shoulders. they were all saying something, but lando didn't know. he didn't care.

she was gone. the love of his life was really gone. she had left him, just like she had told him that she would. she was gone, and he would never see her again, and he would never hold her again. he would never get to listen to her talk or laugh. he would never get to tease her, and he would never get to be with her again.

the doctor allowed them to see her. they went in groups. her family went in first, and then his. her friends then went, and then max and carlos. he went in last. why? he didn't know. probably because he knew that if he saw her, it would be too real for him.

and he was right.

seeing her in the hospital bed, with no tubes attached, he broke down again. he fell into the seat beside her bed, gripping her hand, just like he had the first time he found out about her condition.

"don't leave me, lovie. please. come back to me. come back home. don't leave me, im begging you, please, y/n, please, please, come back home." he cried.

he wanted her to open her eyes. he wanted her to wake up and tell him that she was fine. he wanted her to hug him and let him know that everything was going to be okay. he wanted her, he wanted her, he wanted her.

lando didn't know how long he sat there, numb and crying, staring at the love of his life's face. the face that would never cheer for him again, the face that would never let him know what she was thinking. the face that he wouldn't see at the end of the alter anymore.

eventually, someone came in, and took him away. he didn't know who. they told him that her parents were discussing the funeral and making plans. they told him that her parents were going to do it according to their rituals, and lando had the option to participate in it.

nothing made sense to him.

their wedding day, the day that she had worked so hard for it to be perfect and to be everything the couple ever dreamed it would be, became the day of her funeral.

the happiest day of his life became the worst day.

they went ahead with the indian rituals. her body was dressed in white, along with everyone present there. her body was kept on logs, and she was covered with it too.

there was an indian priest, reciting something. lando didn't hear. he stood alone towards the front, staring blankly at where her body lay. her brother was holding a log, with the top of it covered in a cloth and was on fire.

the priest said something, and her brother went around, lighting the log bed on fire. when he had done it from all sides, he kept the log on top, slowly watching as it all burned.

as she burned.

lando wanted to jump in the fire. he wanted to jump in the fire and go with her, wherever she was going. he wanted to jump in the fire and die with her, because he couldn't live in a world where she wasn't living.

a hand was on his shoulder, and lando heard her father, "thank you for loving my daughter, lando. thank you for making her happy."

"she wanted to get married. i couldn't give her that." he said, almost monotonously.

her father chuckled sadly, "i remember talking to her the day she moved in with you. said that the two of you were like an old married couple. reminded her of her grandparents and how in love they were,"

lando smiled sadly.

"don't lose touch, son. you are still family. we'd hate to lose our son-in-law too,"

lando cried silently. he didn't know how to stop.

"this was the ring she was going to give you today." her father said, opening his palm to present a thick silver ring with small diamonds all around. it was a simple ring. it was his style too.

lando hesitantly picked up the ring, looking at it. there was an engraving on the inside, and lando realised that the words were written in hindi.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure, son,"

"what does the inside say?"

her father took the ring and checked, before saying, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

lando recognised those words.

"she said it to me a lot. before every race, every time she ended up in the hospital, any time that i was away from her, she said it to me. never told me what it meant. she just told me to look it up after she was gone." lando whispered.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu. it means that my love will stay with you, regardless of whether i'm there or not."

the words echoed in his mind. they were true. her love would stay with him till his last breath, whether she would or not.

he grieved all the time after that.

how could he not?

he had to continue to train, to race, even when he didn't feel like getting out of bed. he had to continue to fight in a championship, even when he didn't care about it.

his team, team principal, zak, oscar, almost every driver on the grid who he had been racing with for years, were worried about him. how could they not be.

lando barely smiled. barely spoke anymore. he trained, raced, went back home. there was no light in him anymore, no spark.

of course, the media, the other team principals weren't aware of the major shift in lando's life. they used his grief as a weapon against him. said the same things they had said the year he won for the first time. said the same things, that he was mentally weak, and whatnot.

lando didn't care. he didn't care about anything anymore. he didn't care about his helmets, or about streaming, or even about quadrant. he didn't care about racing anymore.

he'd heard whispers amongst his team that they were worried he would do something hasty on track and severely injure himself. he heard the questions from the media to oscar and andrea and zak about replacing lando, now that he just wasn't good enough and was past his prime.

it was funny they said that, because he was still winning races. he was still winning races or getting on podium. he just wasn't happy. he wasn't happy or satisfied, because every time he looked at the crowd, he looked for her face and she wasn't there.

the fans, the media, they all speculated about the wedding ring on his finger. they all questioned and made fun of the fact that he was so depressed after getting married, he had clearly made a mistake. they laughed, and their laughter was cruel. but lando hadn't said anything. he didn't know why. he just couldn't.

it was when max had moved back in with lando and was streaming one day that the world found out about the bitter truth. it was max who had finally revealed to the world, months after, that lando needed someone to take care of him, because he was grieving. he was grieving the loss of the woman he loved so much.

lando had thanked max the next day. thanked him for telling the world what he couldn't because he didn't want it to be true. he had cried that day, thanking max through his tears for taking the initiative and doing what he couldn't.

max had only repeated the words she said, "her love will stay with you regardless of whether she's here or not,"

lando knew that. he believed that.

her love would stay with him till he died, regardless of where she was here or not.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

lemme know if y'all liked this! thank you for reading it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday

[mystybelle]

Adding on because I find it relevant-

Knowing which style of world building, or type of storytelling you're doing really, requires knowing what parts of your story are actually important for the purpose of communicating your story the best. Because Art, is communication through aesthetic. And in order to do communicate well, you have to understand what your message is AND what parts of your message are most important before you can decide how to convey them.

The Hard magic vs Soft magic spectrum is a measure of how important the utility of your magic is for solving problems that exist in the narrative. E.g. ATLA's magic is harder than Tolkien's or Lewis' because the characters in ATLA solve a majority of their problems with the power of kung fu magic, and their interpersonal struggles mostly help them learn how to either use martial arts magic better or new ways to employ it. But the fantastic foot-up-your-ass magic is the most important tool. Meanwhile Frodo is a weak hobbit, and his struggle is about whether or not he'll be able to maintain the emotional bandwith to make a horrific trek into the heart of darkness; the rest of the events we see in the book/movie are largely to impress upon us just how much is riding on the mental health of one little guy. Lewis' is slightly harder (barely) because Narnia is ultimately a very christian(colonial) fairy tale, and the wonder of the new and foreign world is the most important part of the story. Even the characters are pretty "soft" in Narnia, because the point is the vibe of the fairytale world, and you're not supposed to care about Snow White's intense psychological anguish at her step mom trying to have her killed because she can't handle being a milf. You're supposed to care about the vibe of the dwarves she's staying with and the overall plot.

Likewise with the worldbuilding-

Narnia gives you a middling amount of detail for it's fantasy world, but it paints in very broad strokes. Because the vibe of the world, the feeling of wonder and awe that unfamiliarity with it provides, is more than the details of Cameroon's culture or borders in contrast with Narnia's.

ATLA's setting is much harder by contrast, because you're explicitly not meant to be a gawking tourist to this world, the viewer is meant to see it through the cast's eyes. A deeply affected member of the world, who is trying to familiarize themselves with it's complexities. The kung fu magic is a part of the complexities of that world in a very fundamental way, so those two things get a lot of details. The show even beats you over the head with the idea by constantly telling you that the Avatar must be connected to the world, verbatim in a few episodes in fact.

LOTR sits somewhere between the two because it's world is... Frankly more fleshed out than it probably needed to be for the sake of it's story. Tolkien wrote his story to make you care about his world, not the other way around. So it's actually probably an awkward example here, but even still! Through the narrative, we're given information about the world within the context that the characters would experience them in order to impress upon us the complexity of the problems they're facing. The world itself provides the challenges, and the solutions come from the mettle of the characters. So we spend more time with the characters and learning about the routes they'll take, the challenges on them, and the sociopolitical structures of the various nations they pass through, than we do learning about the magic.

In order build stories like this, like OP said- you have to do it on purpose, and in order to do it on purpose, you have to know why you take each step that you do.

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[cryingpariah]

Every time some [INSERT FILLER INSULT HERE] bastard says Vivi can’t be the final Strawhat because she’s not strong or implies Luffy picks his crewmates based on how useful they are I want to legally change my name to Kyle so I can go around punching holes in drywall without consequences.

Powerscalers have their heads so shoved up Akainu's ass I’m seriously questioning if they really watch the show at all. Luffy has not and will not EVER pick a crewmate based solely on usefulness to him when this exact line of thinking pissed him off so bad during Arlong Park and his fight with Arlong.

Luffy picked Nami without ever seeing her actually navigate, he wanted Sanji without trying his cooking, he chose Chopper simply for being a fellow monster, he wasnt even aware little dude was even a doctor. He didn’t know what a Poneglyph was when he accepted Robin as one of their own. The same Luffy who considers one of the most important aspects of pirate life to be music and consistently saying how badly they need a musician??

I just know we aren’t talking about the guy that wanted to recruit a tree in Thriller Bark like this. “Oh but that was just a gag.” Maybe to us but not to Luffy, he really wanted that tree.

Luffy picked the people on his crew because he likes them, he’s an insanely good judge of character with a high level for emotional intelligence and people willfully choosing to ignore that undermines his character a lot.

The character you’re looking for? The one that picks his crew based solely on power and what they can do for him is Blackbeard. You know, THE ANTI-LUFFY.

DPMO and hop off my goat please and thank you.

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part One

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mild Mocking, Mild Fear (Nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

It started off like any other day in the Marino homestead. Aurelia Marino was the first to rise, gathering her clothing and shoes for another tiresome day on the family farm. She thanked the gods her father was kind enough to take the heavier jobs dealing with the livestock, along with her two older brothers. Aurelia made her way to their small allotments to gather any fruits and grains she could harvest to bring back to her mother, who sold the goods just outside the large capital, Rome.

The sun shone bright yet hazed with its beautiful creamy-yellow hue. Aurelia stood back, closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, absorbing the early morning rays, feeling thankful for everything that she and her family has. They certainly didn’t have much, with the family often sharing meals which should feed two and making do with their less than favourable living arrangements. It mightn’t have been everyone’s dream, but for the Marino’s? It was home.

She made her way home and delivered the goods to her mother, who made her way into the capital, along with Aurelia’s aunt. The home had seen better days, so Aurelia took to cleaning from top to bottom. It consisted of 2 rooms – one for living quarters, and one for sleeping. Aurelia was a daydreamer, which helped her in ways zone out of the monotonous tasks she endured daily. She dreamed of a life far away from the farm, perhaps even out of Rome, with her one true love and their life which they live in no fear and without worry. Now that’s the dream.

“Aurelia…. AURELIA!” startled, Aurelia turned to find her mother in a fluster.

“What ever is the matter, Mater?” she asked.

“Daughter, we have just returned from the Capital. The guards are out, exclaiming how the Emperor wishes to settle… they want to find him a wife! I was thinking we should bring you to him, to the Guards, to whoever will see you. I know what they say about him, but surely the life you would have would supersede that, and who knows maybe they aren’t as bad as they are painted. Oh Aurelia, this is such an opportunity for you to-…” her mother exclaims without hardly stopping for air.

Aurelia looks puzzled. She does not understand why this information should be relevant to her. She cuts her off, “Mater, please sit and calm. I do not know why this is important to us? We have heard stories mother and we have seen firsthand what the Emperors are capable of. They are vile in nature. The misfortune they spring onto the people of Rome and they laugh? Besides, we both know the Emperor should not want common people like us. He will want to marry a high-status lady. Why should we worry?”

Her mother, Julia, looks deflated and slumps in her seat. Tears form in her eyes. She looks to her daughter, “Aurelia, I am sorry. I got myself so excited when I heard the news. I only wish the very best for you. I know what the Emperors are, but the lifestyle they have, it could not compare with what myself and your father could ever give to you. You work so tirelessly hard around here, and I want you to have a life I could have only dreamed of. I am sorry I could not give this to you now…”

Aurelia sighs not liking seeing her mother so deflated, Julia interjects, “Anyway, forget my outburst. Let us prepare a meal for your father and brothers.”

Up at Palatine Hill, there were great deliberations occurring. One member of the Senate announces, “Caesar, I do not wish to inflict my decision upon you, but I must stress how we must be very selective over who we choose. We do not wish to weaken your hard-earned line of succession, it wo-”

“QUIET!” A screech overpowers the Senate member. The hall grows deathly silent, so much so the slightest move of a finger was heard. Caracalla sneers in the corner, observing his little brother’s outburst with great delight.

“Tell the Guards to fetch me every eligible woman in the immediate area. We are to have them presented to me and my brother by midday tomorrow. Any status, I want to see them all, peasant or not.” Geta affirms loud and clear to their subordinates.

Caracalla rises from his seat with Dundus on his shoulder, with a merciful “HA!”, “The instruction is clear, we want to see them all. We would like to get some sort of amusement out of this day, so the more peasantry the better! Now off you go, find us ladies!”

There was no movement in the room until Geta announced, “Did you not hear my brother, you disobedient fools – be on your way!”

The Praetorian officials who were present quickly collected themselves and made their way to arrange the troops.

The two brothers burst out into what could only be described as maniacal laughter, at a combination of the misfortune of the potential ‘suitors’ and whatever plans they were outlining for their futures. The Senate looked on in horror as they saw the ‘Twins’ conjuring up their next scheming plans for goodness knows what. Only the gods know what they could be scheming now.

It was turning to nightfall quickly, and Aurelia was preparing the bedding for the family, and folding away any washing she had completed during the day. The gallant sound of trotting began to get louder and louder and began to puzzle Aurelia. She walked out into the living quarters where her family were gathered. Her father was about to speak when he was cut off by three sharp knocks at their barely held together door.

Fear shoots through Aurelia. Who could be calling at their door at this hour? It could only mean trouble.

Her father rises, with her brothers swiftly behind, and opens their door. Stood proudly were three Praetorian soldiers, with scroll in hand. “Hello, how may we help you Sires?” Augustus, her father spoke.

The Praetorian soldiers in a half scoff announced, “We are here to demand the presence of the lady, Aurelia Marino, for their highnesses Emperors Geta and Caracalla. She is to present herself along with a chaperone to the Colosseum at precisely midday tomorrow. It is expected she preen herself to look her best as she is to be compared amongst all other ladies of the nearby land in a bid to be betrothed to the great Emperor Geta.” They look behind Augustus to see Aurelia standing sheepishly, hands entwined within each other, hair scooped back and the rags of today on her for clothing. With a snort, they announce “We can see you have your work ahead of you, so we shall leave you to prepare.” They giggle like school children amongst themselves and make their way back to their horses.

Almost like a sixth sense, her father feels Aurelia’s fear from behind his slight frame and bravely shouts after the soldiers demanding, “And what if we do not attend?”. The lead commander of the group, already mounted on his horse turns to look over his shoulder, “You and your daughter will face the arena, and you best pray that the gods are in your favour that day.” Off the calvary took, leaving Aurelia feeling like a dormouse.

“Am I truly that hideous that they must laugh in my face?” her confidence, the little she had, was shattered. Her mother looks disgusted and explains, “My dear child, you are of kind face and mind. You are beautiful both inside and out. You mustn’t worry of the thoughts of the others; they are as ugly inside as they are out.” Aurelia half laughs, and shrugs away a tear from her eye. Julia continues, “Mea amor, anyone, including the Emperor would be lucky to have you. I know I was excited earlier at the prospect, but now its so real, I pray to the gods you are dismissed.”

“Thank you Mater.” Aurelia draws a deep breath, sighs, and continues “I am going to prepare for tomorrow. I shall see you in the morning.”. She takes herself off to her side of sleeping quarters and hunts out her best outfit, which in Aurelia’s case is a plain tunic that is lacking holes (or as little as possible).

As the night draws on, Aurelia finds it more and more difficult to fall asleep at the prospects of being put in front of the co-emperors tomorrow. She tosses and turns so much that she excuses herself to the living quarters to reside there, in a bid to disturb her family less. Finally, the tiredness wins, and sleep consumes her.

The commute to the Colosseum usually was full of excitement for Aurelia and her father. It usually meant a day of entertainment, and quality family time – full of joy, excitement. Today couldn’t be further from that sentiment – it reeked of fear. As the pair strode up the narrow-walled street to the grand building, Augustus stopped suddenly. Turning to his daughter, he spoke gently, “Aurelia, you do not have to attend. I will see to fight in the arena if it means your freedom.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, “Pater, he will not even look at me no doubt. Please do not put your life before mine, especially for such trivial matters. Let us attend to see it through and get back to our lives.” The pair breathed deeply in and began the uneven trekking once more.

On approach, the queues of ladies with their chaperones started and continued right around the vicinity of Palatine Hill. ‘How are they ever going to see all in one day?’, Aurelia asked herself. She and her father began their queueing and waited with bated breath to see how the fates lay.

It was nearing nightfall before Augustus and Aurelia entered what could only be described as a colossal banqueting hall. Up ahead in the distance, Aurelia caught glimpse of bright orange locks, flailing hands, and maniacal laughter. She knew it would be only too soon before she would approach the Emperors.

A guard confirmed her identity, and instructed her and her father to move forward. She knew she was now next. The intensity of this strange situation was palpable. I mean would it be so bad to become an Empress? It would mean she could provide more for her family, and lessen the burden on her mother and father, who were not getting any younger. And as much as it pained her to admit it, there were much less handsome suitors to be paired with. Perhaps however with a little less bloodthirst.

Taking her out of her trace, was a guard announcing “… -side Rome, Augustus Marino with his daughter, Aurelia.” She and her father bowed before the Emperors, not daring to look either in the eye. She could hear one of them saying something to the other, with a huge cackle to finish their commentary. Bravely, looking from under her brow, she caught sight of Geta staring intently at her, with a woman either side of him, softly touching him, meanwhile Caracalla seemed to be enjoying this charade with an entourage of both men and women at his side.

Geta rises from his chair. He swiftly moves his hands to signal to her father to step back from her.

“Speak Girl. What is your name again?” Geta asked with intense authority.

“Aurelia, your Highness.”

“Golden.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Golden. Your name, it’s meaning.”

“C-Caesar, please forgive me I did not know this fact. I-I-I thank you for bestowing me with such knowledge.”

Caracalla begins to laugh hysterically, “Brother, she is so weak and feeble. ‘Please Sire, Yes Sire’. It’s rather quite pathetic but marvellous to observe.” Geta begins to laugh in approval with his brother, “Yes brother, you’re right!”

Geta moves forward with great authority, and Aurelia flinches. He swarms her, taking in every detail about her, from the way her skin shines in the last of the day’s sun; her hair and how it cascades down her shoulders; her eyes and the piercing blue contrasting all what seems to dull about her; the clothing she wears and how it looks like rags not even his cleaners would dare be seen to use in his presence. Yet, with all, there’s something so dearly capturing about this one, that he dares not let show.

He was about to step even closer, but was interrupted by his brother’s clashing tones, “She really is rather miserable. I mean look at her father.” Mockingly he begins, “Sir, Sir, please how much money does one have on his person? I bet Dundus has more to carry in her purse than you!” After listening to Caracalla’s laughter for a second too long, Augustus holds back any sign of animosity, and starts “Emperors, please forgive me, I try my best. I work hard to keep a roof over my family’s head and food on our table. I previously fought for Rome, but had to reside to my current life after I was let go. My daughter is a wonderful person, I may not be able to give you anything in terms of material earnings, but my daughter pays for that tenfold, she-”. He was caught off my Geta rising his arm, while staring intently at Aurelia. Ignoring his brother’s ignorance, and her father’s pathetic cries, Geta leant closer into Aurelia, who could feel him breathing on her soft skin. With a swift move of his hand, he swept the hair away from her shoulder to get closer to her ear.

“You should be thanking the gods, Aurelia… gold is my favourite metal.”

She shivered in response, while Geta looked at her with what she didn’t know was sheer disgust or intrigue. Turning on his heels, he ushered away the ladies who were once at his side and sat with authority. Giving the guards a look, he announced, “Let it be known that I am to be betrothed this coming week to Aurelia Marino. We will bare the heirs of utter greatness and Rome will live on and conquer once more. Praise gods.”

There was a cue of sighs and ‘praises’ behind Aurelia and her father with those waiting to be seen by the Emperors dismissed.

Sneering at Augustus, Geta sweeps past the two of them without so much as looking in Aurelia’s direction. A guard approaches Aurelia and instructs her, “Lady, we must now take you to your new living quarters. Bid your farewells and follow us.”

She and her father stare at one another in sheer shock. Neither knowing what had just happened. She hugs her father tightly whilst crying into his shoulder, but she keeps reminding herself that this should work for her family’s favour. They need not worry about materials no longer; she would see they were all looked after.

Aurelia set on her way to follow the guards, with one last look over her shoulder to see her teary father and turning back to pave her way in a new life. A new world.

Part 2

[4ngelsstar]

Imagine:

A Yandere!Jinx breaking into your house immediately after finding out you’d stolen something from her during a time when you were being.. intimate, to say the least. She’d been smitten with you, but upon figuring this out? She was completely enraged. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do, but she was going to do SOMETHING!

Maybe she would kill you, but perhaps she was too infatuated?..

She still has to think about it.

After all, she’d killed people for you just because they flirted with you or looked at you in a way she particularly didn’t like. She’d spent so many of her moments with you, practically groveling at your feet. She’d begged for you to stay with her, to love her. And you said you did!

Maybe that was a lie.

And upon arriving in your room, pistol in hand, she finds you sound asleep. But, looks like you left a small hatch beneath the rug open.

She scoffs, thinking this is way too easy. After stashing her gun away, she begins to descend down the ladder, Jinx glances back up at your sleeping form as you stir. She.. honestly doesn’t know how to feel, she doesn’t even wanna look at you right now until she figures what to do next about all of this, given the fact Sevika’s on her BACK about this being an important plan they need to execute. Something he would’ve done as well.

A huff escapes her and finally goes all the way down, being sure to close the hatch quietly before fully getting down. She was now a rather dark and dusty room. She waved her hand in front of her mouth and nose, wanting to cough.

But who’d know if that’d wake you.

So, Jinx restrains it and decides to start searching around for a light source, given she didn’t bring one of her own.

It doesn’t take her long until her hand feels up a string connected to, what she suspects, to be a light source. Quickly, she pulls on it, and light illuminates the room. To her amusement, she grinned in delight.

Though upon inspecting the room?

She’s met by practically an entire SHRINE dedicated to her, and her alone.

Various photographs with the banal hearts surrounding her, scribbling out anyone else if there even was.. you seemed to have just cut that part off. Most of those photos are connected with more papers, reading out dates in red ink with little notes talking about what she was doing, how pretty she looked, and so on. But, there were some that were pinned to the walls around. There were dozens upon dozens of crumpled papers littered around, a bunch of her possessions now prized in this room like they were crafted by a god themself.

Not only that, but there’s a small journal on a nearby desk, along with writing which has been obsessively scribbled upon the walls of the hidden room.

And she began to read them..:

‘I love her so much.’

‘She’s mine.’

‘So pretty.’

‘♡’

…

She stands there, completely dumbfounded upon what she’s found.

Her mouth remains agape.

..So that’s why you took those plans from her: because you thought she wouldn’t notice, thinking that they weren’t going to cause that much of a deal, and henceforth - allow you to continue indulging in your obsession with..

Her.

And that’s when she hears the creaking of the hatch opening once more.

.

.

.

Dividers: @cafekitsune & @strangergraphics-archive

[red-doll-face]

ex boyfriend low honor arthur who cant get over you. 😔

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader. warnings: nsfw, lh arthur and his breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, baby trapping...

Let's say Arthur is independent of the gang for whatever reason. Maybe you dated him while he was in the gang but you broke things off. He most likely prioritized the gang at some point about something really important to you or said something that took it too far too many times. You tell him you’re done. And he gets this really hard look in his eyes. He asks you if you're joking, cause it ain’t funny, in this voice that's like ice. You shake your head, showing your small bag of belongings, separated from all of his things. Puts his hands on his hips and sniffs. He’s devastated but he just nods. Arthur doesn't want you to see how much he's gutted. Deep down he wants to beg for another chance but he’s also arrogant enough to think you'll come crawling back. Regrets when his last words to you are ‘get out of my sight’ and your last words to him are ‘sorry, Arthur’. 

And of course you never do come crawling back. 

Then things with the gang fall apart and Arthur is probably the lowest he's ever been. He's never stopped thinking about you either. He can pretend he doesn't care but he's such a suckered for you. Never stopped loving you. Arthur is even worse than he was with Mary. Every single thing you left behind is venerated and he keeps them in this delicate little box. A ribbon from your hair, some jewelry he gave you, a hand mirror. Anything you gave to him he keeps close to his heart, a photograph of you two is always in his breast pocket. Any clothes you leave behind are definitely sniffed deeply while he jacks off, sorry he’s gross and shameless.

He's keeping himself alive doing bounty hunting work here and there. Drinking, trying to forget and getting in all kinds of bar fights, barely keeping himself out of jail. And he catches sight of you. You're working as a store keeper, sweeping the front of the shop in another nameless town somewhere in California. 

He just watches for a while in disbelief. He hopes you aren't married. Otherwise he'd probably kill the poor man. It's so hard to hold himself back and not just rush over there and pick up where you left off. All of this time, imagining you as the love of his life he let pass him by. You're just as beautiful as he remembers you too. And he is immediately right back to remembering all of your best moments together. Those delicate conversations you shared alone at the campfire after everyone had gone to sleep. Kissing you when no one was watching. The way you called his name the first time he made you cum for him. And he's going over there. You see him and at first you don't recognize him but then again you’d know that black hat anywhere. 

The way things left off, you're not sure what he's going to say. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing. He just whispers your name and you nod. You hesitate to ask him how he's been, he doesn't look like he's doing so hot. You spend a while talking to him about what happened with the gang, you update him about the nice old man that took you in after you left. How lucky you had been. And fortunately for him, no new man.

Arthur one hundred percent believes that this is God's way of saying you two are meant to be together. He's convinced this is his second chance. He thinks whatever you both had is still there and can be rekindled whether that's true or not. He tries to not lay it on too thick but he can't help himself. He uses every pet name he's ever called you like you both never broke up. If you ask him about it, he says it's a force of habit, sweetheart... but he is lying. It's been so long, calm down. He loves to touch you, he tucks your hair behind your ear, puts his hand on your waist, helps you whenever he can up some steps or onto a horse. Cannot stop looking at your body and you can definitely catch him peeking at your cleavage. Acts like it's totally normal. 

And he knows how much you used to like him, used to like the way he bowed over you to kiss you, feel him press up against you, look at the muscles in his arms. Knows exactly what kind of things you liked to see him, those tight pants and the shirt where his chest looks like it's about to rip the seams. He uses everything to his advantage. He loves to show off everything you loved about him when you were together. His strength, his providing nature, his ability to be sweet and vulnerable in those small moments. Arthur has a dirty mouth too, whispering about how much he’s missed you, what he’d do just to get your sweet little pussy cat wrapped around his cock again. All with that lurid smirk on his face and his pretty blue eyes focused right on you. He is a menace and a fiend. 

Whether he tries to apologize or change is up in the air. If you make it a requirement, he will think about it. Because he really does want you back but there is a reason you left his ass in the dust. He's so desperate for it, he may just apologize for what he said to you and admit that what he did was wrong. He is very prideful but he can put it aside for you. He is not happy about it but it's probably a big part of why you may choose to take him back. Especially the quiet 'never quit lovin' you, honey'.

If you take him back he is already prepared to slip a ring on your finger. The make up sex is crazy, he puts his whole back into blowing yours out, eats you out until his jaw is sore. He's not letting you regret taking him back. He’s not stopping until you beg him to. He’ll show you why he was your man in the first place and why he should stay that way. The entire time he's telling you how much he missed this and how he ain't losing it again. He is most definitely looking to knock you up here too, pushing as deep as he can.

Even better if you're into his 'giving you a baby' talk. Arthur is fucking you full of his cum every night, telling you how gorgeous and precious you’d look round with his babe. In his head, once you have his baby, you're locked in for life. This second chance with you, he might deserve it, he might not. He won't question it too much. All he knows is he finally has exactly what he wanted. You with a ring on your finger, calling him your man with his baby on your hip. 

sorry these are a bit long 😳 thanks for the support as always! I spent so long on these trying to get them just right but im happy with how they came out !!!

[gotta-winwin]

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

🐻‍❄️ release date: christmas day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ i just know i'm going to have sm fun writing this cuz the dynamic is so interesting! its already giving christmas romcom vibes and omg you guys are not ready.

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 

--

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

[narutobookshelf]

#i want to meet the jōnin housing interior decorator. who is the one who designs these apartments. what are the principles they use going in #i like the cluttered idea of his home more bc while the idea that kakashi keeps his home absolutely spotless bc he doesnt live in it #and doesnt have a real ''home'' personality is loaded in a very compelling meow meow way #but for my interest...i have to say its not as compelling to me bc kakashi is not an empty man! he's bursting with feelings #i very much like the idea that hes incapable of letting go of the past and so he keeps a lot of trinkets #people leave and people die and people vanish but if you have something of theirs—in some way its a tangible memory #a way to hold them in your hands#i think hes careful with his trinkets though i think he keeps the important ones in sealed containers out of sunlight or elements so that#they remain unchanged by time #(of relevance: exposing things to sunlight is one way to break down odors quickly) #its not clean and feelingless and efficient but i think kakashi might be a little bit of a pack rat... #i think that naruto gives him drawings when hes first appointed sensei of team 7....and he keeps them in a little cardboard box bc #he doesnt know what to do with them but the idea of getting rid of them doesnt even cross his mind. so hes got all these goofy kid drawings #of naruto as a huge badass fighting sasuke and enemies with lots of teeth and spikes and like kakashi and sakura #one day like 20 yrs later when narutos in his thirties kakashi finds them again and loses his fucking mind laughing#gai + yamato (who live with him now bc they need to share the fridge) are like what. what happened whatd you find #kakashis the kind of person where if you give him something he just holds onto it for eternity

(reblogging with ops tags)

i am trying to find a image of the outside of kakashi's window to see what textures i should use for jōnin housing, and i am not finding it but i did find this. look. look

i have so much to say. firstly, everyone wears their shoes in kakashi's apartment, kakashi wears his shoes in kakashi's apartment. i think there is an absolutely and entirely unused shoe rack. there, that blue vertical cubby thing next to the door. it has at least seven slots and there's not a single set of shoes in there!

there have probably NEVER been a set of shoes in there. no respect for Kakashi's living space allowed.

secondly, if i am correct, the caligraphy on that wall just says shinobi. it's like. this is really funny to me. imagine just having ur job title in caligraphy hung up on the wall. a little like having this hung up on ur wall

u feel me? did he pick that out himself. did it come with the apartment (jōnin standard housing...obsessed). what about that weird abstract art behind sasuke in the front area, the one that kinda reminds me of the inside of Jiraiya's frog jutsu. did kakashi hang that up in his own room. did he see that and go "yeah, this is something I want to wake up and look at every morning that I'm back in Konoha"

also. skjghsdkgjhsdkgjhsdgkjhsdgkjshdgkshdgdsg. hello to mr ukki on the window sill. and hello to kakashi's shuriken blanket. that's so cute. what the hell is his interior design sense. it seems like.

if everything is put together. it seems like...well, as kate said, pinterest shinobi...

also sidenote he takes off his shoes even when hes just poking around his students homes w/ the hokage

so its Just his own apartment that gets this disrespect. when i told kate abt this they pointed out "well, that's probably because kakashi has no ownership of his own space and feels transient always but he respects the space of others send tweet" which is so true, so true.

(it should be noted that in the manga his home is a lil more cluttered)