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#We build up expectations of who we want people to be - but they are never *who* that person is.
hana-no-seiiki · 2 days
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WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)
YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER
[ ACT ONE HERE ]
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cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.
summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’
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MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS
“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”
“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”
“We weren’t . . . “
As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.
I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?
They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.
Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.
You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.
He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.
If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.
Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.
He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.
Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.
It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”
And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.
He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.
And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.
“Hey, [N/N].”
The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.
“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.
And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.
Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.
You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.
Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.
“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”
“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.
You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.
“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.
“Meet Fishbones.”
BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:
Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?
You could tell he was pulling his punches.
Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.
You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).
“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.
That was one of Bruce’s buildings.
“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”
“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.
Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.
His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.
He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.
He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.
What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?
"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.
Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.
“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.
Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.
“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.
No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.
“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.
He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.
“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”
And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.
You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.
“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”
“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”
Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.
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୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹
AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj
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Hey there ! Big fan over here, you actually contributed to inspire me to DM ! But that's why i come asking : do you have a method to incorporate player's backstory elements into the overarching plot of the campaign and its theme ? I have a player who, i feel, is basically an extension of an NPC : he's the spouse of a powerful archfey (but that particular tidbit of faerie specificity is unknown to him, he just thinks they're normal farmers). The archfey send him on various missions and supply runs for their daily life, as an excuse for him to participate in the story. But that leaves me with a player with no real investment in the campaign, seeing as he's just there because he's been sent by his spouse, and i worry that I won't be able to neatly tie this together. So, what do ? Do you have any input on these kinds of situation ? In any case, thank you very much for your continued work !
Specific anwser for you: You've set up a dynamic where a character is reliant an NPC for direction, that's great, it means you've got a basis that you as a storyteller can riff off of. Ideal scenario? Send them out on a mission, and have him come back to find his archfey gone. Use it to bait a questhook, and then start asking juicy questions about who they are without guidance. Connect the disapearance to the campaign in someway (someone we dislike is a suspect, someone we like might have an idea what happened) and boom, instant investment.
General awnser for everyone: I find that players come in one of three types when it comes to backstory, 1) Has no strong feelings towards backstory 2) Has a general idea, an outline at best 3) Backstory perverts.
Group 1 are happy for you to make up a soft backstory for them. They're likely getting a handle on the game so offloading that amount of work will likely be handy for them. Just choose something they can easily wrap their head around and start building out a real character personality around as they settle into things.
Group 2 are playing along, taking their first forrays into actually contributing to the collabrative storytelling. They're always amazed when you bring up their backstory AT ALL, especially if you can route campaign/adventure progression through some of the deatils they supplied. The idea here is to give them a pat on the back for getting invested.
Group 3 want you to play with them (both in a game sense and like a dragon does with its food). They've supplied you with a backstory specifically so you can use it to direct them, get them invested, make them emotional. They've pretty much given you a how-to manual on what they're interesed in with regards to the campaign an its direction. The secret sauce here is to examine their backstory and make the narrative shift in ways they wern't expecting. "No plan survives contact with the enemy" goes the qoute, and the same is true for the player's backstory and the rigors of the campaign. People who write extenstive backstories want to explore a character, and sometimes that means seeing how their character grows in ways they never could have expected.
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mxtxfanatic · 3 days
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As someone who has far too much time on their hands I have waded through Ao3 and found some canon-complacent fics that do not assume that Jiang Cheng is a good brother, are not influenced by the untamed, and are hopefully to your tastes!
Our Feelings Remain Unchanged by Karmiya
When Wei Wuxian is resurrected with his original face, any plans to hide in plain sight as 'Mo Xuanyu' are ruined before they can ever begin. He soon runs into old faces, and finds that despite what he feared in his last days, Lan Wangji's feelings for him never changed; whatever they were in the first place.
I really like this author in general! All their fics are good but this is my favorite of them. It is not remaining in line with cannon because oh boy Wei Wuxian having the same face changes things starting with the fact that Sizhui recognizes him...
The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal
“We rest in the shade of trees our ancestors planted.” They called the man in the ice Yiling Laozu, after a folk hero associated with the town in the foothills of the mountains where he was found. No one expected him to be alive!
I believe you will appreciate this authors long footnotes. Also the historical details and world building is fascinating. They clearly put a lot of research into this.
this world (what I make of it) by glitteringmoonlight
The war had consequences. Once, a fully realized Avatar referred to one who had mastered all the elements and could go into the Avatar State. Now, that has changed. No one could master fire when there was no one to teach it, and people feared the abilities of a firebender too much to allow anyone, even the Avatar, to learn too much of it. Now, an Avatar was simply said to be fully realized when their instructors decided they had learnt enough.   In which Lan Sizhui is the Avatar, but he cannot firebend, nor can he waterbend very well. That changes when his travels take him to Yiling.
The best avatar fusion fic I've read. No mentions of jc so far and Wei Wuxian currently remains a mysterious figure who is for sure not a bloodbender and definitely isn't in hiding.
A look back at the past (it's never like they lie) by Imnobody122
Jin Ling had always wanted to know his parents so when he heard rumors about a ghost forcing people to relive their earliest childhood memories he jumped at the chance. Things did not go according to plan. Instead he's stuck watching the childhood memories of Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling is forced to confront the truth the Sects lied about. The Yiling Laozu should not be good with children!
It's harder to get more canon complainant than when you are literally quoting the text. Don't worry the author makes no excuses for Jiang Cheng and this fic tears apart the rumors surrounding Wei Wuxian.
Return to Sender by Theasaurus_with_no_words
On yet another gray and eerie morning in the Burial Mounds, Wei Wuxian wakes up with his golden core back. It turns out he lost something else in the process. (Aka: Wei Wuxian's feelings towards certain people get erased. It changes things. Is it a curse, or a blessing in disguise? And can Wei Wuxian trust himself, his choices and his priorities, after losing a defining part of who he is?)
Wei Wuxian regains his golden core and loses his loyalty due to Jiang Cheng's ingratitude. This is not a bad trade.
I hope you like them and it is kind of depressing that this list only has five entries but oh well.
Some more mdzs fic recs if anyone is interested!
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 27 days
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In the shape of you, something new.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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wizardnuke · 1 year
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i love the empire kids so so much i feel like i am losing my gfuckinf mind. ohh my god empire kids
#do you ever think about the concept behind wildemount. it was the calamity's the final battleground it's half-ruined and scarred over#the savalirwood is mutating. the barbed fields are barren. there are ancient ruins scattered all around the continent#they weren't left on purpose but they are a warning. something something this is not a place of honor.#and the people of wildemount reflect the landscape they're suspicious and rough. the leaders of the empire and the dynasty#(meaning the cerberus assembly and leylas kryn) are both vying for war and/or power - ikithon doesn't seem to care about the war but he#is throwing children into it like logs in a bonfire. leylas is going mad. da'leth remembers the calamity! and he still wants to take down#the gods! he was at ground zero and he wants to build it up again! not to mention that delilah briarwood is also an offshoot of the#assembly. the empire! with its archmages! delilah and ikithon and da'leth! they're the rotten core of it! and all of the m9 are from#wildemount but beau and caleb are the children of the empire. beau's dad's hatred and disregard for her (and remember kamordah is said to#be dreary and largely barren and her dad had to make that deal with the hag in order to make the ground fertile enough to grow grapes in#the country in the continent of barren ground) echoes the larger problem within the empire the assembly and ikithon and how he ruined#caleb's life. the empire kids. the children of the country that encapsulates wildemount's worst parts. the savalirwood is separate from#the empire as are the barbed fields but the people who symbolize the cause and effect of the calamity are in the empire's assembly it#starts and ends with them. they're the epicenter. they're ground zero. they're the poison into the drinking water. and beau and caleb are#the victims of that. of course beau is angry of course she was cast out. of course caleb is haunted of course he was left to die. that's#what wildemount and the empire does to its children. they are two out of two million. we just happened to follow their stories#AND THAT IS WHY BEAU AND CALEB FIGHT WITH EACH OTHER LIKE THEY DO. YOU CAN'T EXPECT CHILDREN OF THE EMPIRE TO TRUST EASILY.#they were both raised on ruined ground! beau was never loved and she was thrown out. caleb was incredibly loved and he killed his parents.#that is what the empire does. and. to see them in the end. raising hell and tearing the assembly down brick by brick#it's personal for caleb and it's meaningful for beau - what happened to them will not happen to any other child within the empire#they're breaking the cycle that's been spinning on and on for nearly two thousand years#and (caleb voice) it takes time. nearly a decade down the line they'll be trudging thru a desert on another continent in search of da'leth#but. my god. they're gonna do it. you know the chernobyl sarcophagus. the structure they built to hold the radiation in. that's them#that's why they read luciens book btw. that's what they're made to do. they r both so full of hubris - beau absolutely is btw. she would#icarus herself up to the sun in a heartbeat if she was given that level of freedom you know she would and that's the kind of hubris I#mean for both of them - the stubborn desperate confidence they have that they will prove everyone wrong and break free of the cycle (they#can do it. they just can't do it alone. they need each other and a whole support system to hold them back if need be. no wax wings for you#that's why they push each other so hard. that's why they lean on each other so much. they can't do it alone. and then they do it together#and end up rocketing towards almost near-certain death together. they just wanted to know more. those two always want so much more#that's why theyve always had that 'i'll watch you if you watch me' pact. together or not at all. and it still isn't enough. empire hubris
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faeriekit · 5 months
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"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."
The body didn't move.
"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."
And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.
Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.
The dead body sat up.
Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"
Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.
Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.
"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."
The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.
"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."
The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.
It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.
The whole fic on ao3
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thehmn · 6 months
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Does it seem weird that people treat cats like they’re wild animals to anyone else? And by that I don’t mean people expect cats to survive on their own in the wild. I mean people act like pet cats who have owners are wild animals that the owners aren’t responsible for. And I’m not talking about cat owners specifically. A lot of people who doesn’t have any pets at all act like cats are wild animals (which might be why so many people treat them like wild animals that can be hurt with no consequences)
I never thought about that until a few years ago when someone in the town Facebook group asked who owned a cat that kept jumping in through his windows. It was summer so he couldn’t keep his windows closed (we don’t use air conditioning in this country) and he had a terrible allergy to cats so it was legit dangerous for him to have a cat running around his house.
People started offering solutions like “buy this spray that deters cats” and “you can buy this rolling thing for the top of your fence” but his response was “Okay but why am I expected to spend all this money to keep someone’s pet out? Who owns this cat!?” When he didn’t get an answer he eventually got a friend to pick the cat up when it was in his house and he drove it to a shelter, and informed the Facebook group which shelter. Suddenly the owner responded, angry that he’d do such a thing! Getting the cat back would cost money! But the guy was like where the fuck were you when I asked who the cat belonged to!? I was trying to avoid this!
I was honestly surprised by how many people were on the side of the cat’s owner. Another cat owner on our street isn’t responsible enough to keep her cat indoors but responsible enough to at least buy stuff for other people if her cats bother them. She practically have a small stach of cat deterrent spray she hands out to the neighbors who doesn’t want cats in their garden.
The whole thing really made me realize how strange it is that cats are the only pets where we expect other people to spend their money on building fences to keep them out instead of the owners trying to keep them in, as if they were wild animals with no owner to look after them.
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joycrispy · 10 months
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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daloy-politsey · 2 years
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“They’re trying to discharge her constructively. Do you know what Constructive Discharge means?” She asked.
As soon as I heard the term ‘Constructive Discharge,’ I knew I’d never seen it on a vocabulary quiz.
“No. What does it mean?” I asked.
She explained.
“Constructive discharge is a fancy way of saying “being forced out.” It’s not good. And if you’re not a lawyer or in human resources, you’ll probably learn what it means when it’s happening to you.”
“Oh my God. I’ve seen this my entire career and never knew it even had a name.” I thought.
You’ve seen constructive Discharge too. You may have experienced it. We’ve all made choices to avoid it.
Constructive discharge defined
“We can’t fire you, but we’ll make you so miserable you’ll quit, and then we won’t have to pay your unemployment.”
Then there’s the textbook definition:
“A constructive discharge occurs when your employer has made working conditions unbearable, forcing you to resign.”
Or as one person put it.
“I didn’t get handed a pink slip, but when you’re not wanted, people have a way of letting you know.”
HR isn’t always the secret police.
Employees aren’t always victims of evil-doers.
However, employers push employees out all the time to maintain and protect the, “We didn’t do anything wrong, YOU did,” power structure.
Constructive Discharge looks like this:
— Meeting invitations slow to a trickle, and you’re excluded from emails and generally looped out of what’s going on.
— People stop talking to you or stop talking when you walk in.
— Your emails don’t get answers, or they arrive too late to be of value.
— Suddenly, your work is not good enough, though nothing about your work has changed.
— Reviews, once good or even glowing, are now mediocre or bad.
— Instead of a bonus, you get a Performance Improvement Plan.
— Warnings and write-ups start so they can justify your eventual termination with documentation of your “poor performance”
— Your work, clients, assignments go away, or they overwhelm you with work.
— The words “Set up to fail” were practically invented to describe this scenario.
Constructive Discharge is illegal
It isn’t easy to prove you’re a target, and it’s even more challenging if you don’t even know constructive discharge is a real thing.
If you’ve ever experienced this and don’t fully understand what’s happening to you beyond knowing you’re in the process of being excommunicated, it can be hell. It’s not uncommon for the experience to leave long-lasting scars.
Talk to anyone who’s ever been through it. They’ll tell you.
Knowing constructive discharge exists and how it’s used gives you power to predict what’s coming and to protect yourself.
Seeing the endgame helps you in two ways.
You know what to expect. Having a sense of what’s coming next is enormously empowering. You can go on the offensive and protect yourself. Constructive discharge works to crush your ego, making you feel you did something wrong and deserve this treatment.
Without strategy, you end up being a miserable pawn in your employer’s endgame.
Remember, they’re almost certainly building a case to fire you in the event the hellscape they create for you doesn’t persuade you to quit.
If you’re getting pushed out, and you know what to look for you can prove constructive discharge and you can get unemployment benefits, be released from payback obligations on a signing bonus, and protect your mental health.
You’re not crazy, incompetent, or a failure. This is real and it’s carefully executed to leave you holding the bag and feeling like you did something wrong.
If they force you out, in addition to feeling horrible, you lose your paycheck, benefits health insurance, and possibly owe them money.
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lqvesoph · 3 months
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She‘s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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gif by @formulaonedirection
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After releasing your new album you go to the Bahrain Grand Prix to finally see your two favorite Aussie’s. What you didn’t expect is to meet a certain Brit as well.
part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 1
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yn.adams: Thank you for all the love on GUTS!!! Tour is coming I promissssse but now off to Bahrain🏁
comments:
gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL
rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr
danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊
oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)
> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!
> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲
fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!
> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages
fan: Has she ever been to a race??
> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭
fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?
> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨
> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!
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*~*~*~*~*~*
"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.
You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.
"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.
"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."
You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."
"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.
"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.
Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.
Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.
"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.
Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.
Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren
You: I‘m not going in tho
Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?
You: 🙄okay
"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!
You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.
"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.
He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.
You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.
You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.
You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.
As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.
"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.
"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.
"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.
"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.
You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"
"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.
As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.
"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."
The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."
Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.
Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.
"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.
"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.
"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.
*~*~*~*~*~*
After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.
"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.
"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.
"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.
"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"
You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.
The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.
Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.
You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.
"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.
"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.
He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.
"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.
"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.
"Why do you ask?"
Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"
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tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri
yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)
comments:
oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…
> yn.adams: But I‘m not tho…🤷‍♀️
> oscarpiastri: Y/n🤨
danielricciardo: I‘m shown before Oscar
> yn.adams: rolling my eyes as we speak
> fan: LMAOOO
fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?
> yn.adams: JUST FOR A SECOND!!!
fan: The race weekend is better when ur there
liked by yn.adams
fan: How does she know Oscar and Daniel??
> fan: Through her dad obviously
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landonorris started following you
Part 2
taglist
Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x
@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @kiskso @honethatty12 @namgification
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illycanary · 3 months
Text
Katara's Story Is A Tragedy and It's Not An Accident
I was a teenaged girl when Avatar: The Last Airbender aired on Nickelodeon—the group that the show’s creators unintentionally hit while they were aiming for the younger, maler demographic. Nevermind that we’re the reason the show’s popularity caught fire and has endured for two decades; we weren’t the audience Mike and Bryan wanted. And by golly, were they going to make sure we knew it. They’ve been making sure we know it with every snide comment and addendum they’ve made to the story for the last twenty years.
For many of us girls who were raised in the nineties and aughts, Katara was a breath of fresh air—a rare opportunity in a media market saturated with boys having grand adventures to see a young woman having her own adventure and expressing the same fears and frustrations we were often made to feel. 
We were told that we could be anything we wanted to be. That we were strong and smart and brimming with potential. That we were just as capable as the boys. That we were our brothers’ equals. But we were also told to wash dishes and fold laundry and tidy around the house while our brothers played outside. We were ignored when our male classmates picked teams for kickball and told to go play with the girls on the swings—the same girls we were taught to deride if we wanted to be taken seriously. We were lectured for the same immaturity that was expected of boys our age and older, and we were told to do better while also being told, “Boys will be boys.” Despite all the platitudes about equality and power, we saw our mothers straining under the weight of carrying both full-time careers and unequally divided family responsibilities. We sensed that we were being groomed for the same future. 
And we saw ourselves in Katara. 
Katara begins as a parentified teenaged girl: forced to take on responsibility for the daily care of people around her—including male figures who are capable of looking after themselves but are allowed to be immature enough to foist such labor onto her. She does thankless work for people who take her contributions for granted. She’s belittled by people who love her, but don’t understand her. She’s isolated from the world and denied opportunities to improve her talents. She's told what emotions she's allowed to feel and when to feel them. In essence, she was living our real-world fear: being trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood. 
Then we watched Katara go through an incredible journey of self-determination and empowerment. Katara goes from being a powerless, fearful victim to being a protector, healer, advocate, and liberator to others who can’t do those things for themselves (a much truer and more fulfilling definition of nurturing and motherhood). It’s necessary in Katara’s growth cycle that she does this for others first because that is the realm she knows. She is given increasingly significant opportunities to speak up and fight on behalf of others, and that allows her to build those advocacy muscles gradually. But she still holds back her own emotional pain because everyone that she attempts to express such things to proves they either don't want to deal with it or they only want to manipulate her feelings for their own purposes. 
Katara continues to do much of the work we think of as traditionally maternal on behalf of her friends and family over the course of the story, but we do see that scale gradually shift. Sokka takes on more responsibility for managing the group’s supplies, and everyone helps around camp, but Katara continues to be the manager of everyone else’s emotions while simultaneously punching down her own. The scales finally seem to tip when Zuko joins the group. With Zuko, we see someone working alongside Katara doing the same tasks she is doing around camp for the first time. Zuko is also the only person who never expects anything of her and whose emotions she never has to manage because he’s actually more emotionally stable and mature than she is by that point. And then, Katara’s arc culminates in her finally getting the chance to fully seize her power, rewrite the story of the traumatic event that cast her into the role of parentified child, be her own protector, and freely express everything she’s kept locked away for the sake of letting everyone else feel comfortable around her. Then she fights alongside an equal partner she knows she can trust and depend on through the story's climax. And for the first time since her mother’s death, the girl who gives and gives and gives while getting nothing back watches someone sacrifice everything for her. But this time, she’s able to change the ending because her power is fully realized. The cycle was officially broken.
Katara’s character arc was catharsis at every step. If Katara could break the mold and recreate the ideas of womanhood and motherhood in her own image, so could we. We could be powerful. We could care for ourselves AND others when they need us—instead of caring for everyone all the time at our own expense. We could have balanced partnerships with give and take going both ways (“Tui and La, push and pull”), rather than the, “I give, they take,” model we were conditioned to expect. We could fight for and determine our own destiny—after all, wasn’t destiny a core theme of the story?
Yes. Destiny was the theme. But the lesson was that Katara didn’t get to determine hers. 
After Katara achieves her victory and completes her arc, the narrative steps in and smacks her back down to where she started. For reasons that are never explained or justified, Katara rewards the hero by giving into his romantic advances even though he has invalidated her emotions, violated her boundaries, lashed out at her for slights against him she never committed, idealized a false idol of her then browbeat her when she deviated from his narrative, and forced her to carry his emotions and put herself in danger when he willingly fails to control himself—even though he never apologizes, never learns his lesson, and never shows any inclination to do better. 
And do better he does not.
The more we dared to voice our own opinions on a character that was clearly meant to represent us, the more Mike and Bryan punished Katara for it.
Throughout the comics, Katara makes herself smaller and smaller and forfeits all rights to personal actualization and satisfaction in her relationship. She punches her feelings down when her partner neglects her and cries alone as he shows more affection and concern for literally every other girl’s feelings than hers. She becomes cowed by his outbursts and threats of violence. Instead of rising with the moon or resting in the warmth of the sun, she learns to stay in his shadow. She gives up her silly childish dreams of rebuilding her own dying culture’s traditions and advocating for other oppressed groups so that she can fulfill his wishes to rebuild his culture instead—by being his babymaker. Katara gave up everything she cared about and everything she fought to become for the whims of a man-child who never saw her as a person, only a possession.
Then, in her old age, we get to watch the fallout of his neglect—both toward her and her children who did not meet his expectations. By that point, the girl who would never turn her back on anyone who needed her was too far gone to even advocate for her own children in her own home. And even after he’s gone, Katara never dares to define herself again. She remains, for the next twenty-plus years of her life, nothing more than her husband's grieving widow. She was never recognized for her accomplishments, the battles she won, or the people she liberated. Even her own children and grandchildren have all but forgotten her. She ends her story exactly where it began: trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood.
The story’s theme was destiny, remember? But this story’s target audience was little boys. Zuko gets to determine his own destiny as long as he works hard and earns it. Aang gets his destiny no matter what he does or doesn’t do to earn it. And Katara cannot change the destiny she was assigned by gender at birth, no matter how hard she fights for it or how many times over she earns it. 
Katara is Winston Smith, and the year is 1984. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight or what you accomplish, little girl. Big Brother is too big, too strong, and too powerful. You will never escape. You will never be free. Your victories are meaningless. So stay in your place, do what you’re told, and cry quietly so your tears don’t bother people who matter.
I will never get over it. Because I am Katara. And so are my friends, sisters, daughters, and nieces. But I am not content to live in Bryke's world.
I will never turn my back on people who need me. Including me.
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Text
Danny accidentally becomes the Ghost king, The president and the BIGGEST threat to Bruce's social status.
Pt 1 Danny becomes the Ghost king
"Fenton's were never allowed to have a "normal" life, we are either extremely successful or extremely unsuccessful, there is no in between. Maybe a spirit cursed us back in the days, but who knows, but one things for sure, all Fenton's will definitely make the news."
-Grandma Fenton from whatever generation
Danny's starting to believe that now. He used to think that it wasn't true, but now? He used to wish to have a normal life, be a good normal son with good grades an be an astronaut one day.
But like they said, a Fenton is either EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL OR EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL.
He was EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL in that.
Instead of a normal life he turned a half ghost teen superhero. But oh well, the Fenton's were also known for their ability to go with the flow
But how in the world did the flow get him here???
In Danny's defense, he wasn't really expecting this. The only thing in his mind at the moment was keeping his town and his people safe from pariah. He just wanted to get rid of the rotten fruitloop. He was EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL, so successful in fact that he ended up becoming Ghost king.
The fudge????
But okay, sure, he didn't wanna become king but if he also didn't want to give up the crown for others to take, what if an evil person becomes king and attacks amity again?? Fine, he'll be king, he'll figure it out. Just go with the flow.
Surprisingly, not only did he get the crown, he also got THE MONEY. as in literal gold and silver bars, coins and jewelry. Appearantly, one the kings a long long time ago, before at least two generations before pariah had an obsession with MONEY. So the king made a Permanent Royal Degree (a law that cannot be changed by any future kings) that when someone dies and becomes a ghost, 20% of the MONEY that they've acquired in their entire life. (The money turns into an equivalent of ghost currency in the realms but is still physically in the living. Kind of like how the soul is in the realms but the body is the earth. Also, the only reason money exists in the realms is for convenience and a sense of normalcy, it doesn't really have that much value unless the ghosts brings it to the living) would belong to the ghost king.
Basically, it's ghost taxes that only have to be paid once for the entire afterlife. (Or is it more of an entrance fee???)
But anyways, hes got the MONEY.
He's rich now and he thinks, "I have so much money it's disgusting"
So first things first, getting rid of some of it.
By this point, his parents know he's phantom and have changed their opinions on ghosts, instead of attacking they are now looking at ghost like they're equals and try and help them as an apology for hurting them.
They are also looking for a new project to spend time on. A new purpose
So Danny thought, why not give them the money then? Danny proposed to his mom a project to make things that can benefit both ghosts and humans.
Next thing he knows is that he's appearantly funding, building and making:
A ghost job agency
A human job agency
Ghost proof buildings (ghost can't pass through walls, it won't hurt them, just keep em out.)
Ghost proof clothes (overshadowing proof!)
A practical fashion line for ghost and humans (Bullet proof, blast proof etch. Borderline vigilante clothes that look like a civilians day to day outfit)
Homes for ghost and humans
A ghost obsession help center where they can ask humans to help with their obsession.
A school for both ghost and humans.
Liminal 101 because apparently because of the whole, pariah dark and, living in the ghosts kings haunt situation, everyone is liminal now
An entire line of technology that can be used by both ghosts and humans.
A fight arena where ghost and humans can fight for fun.
And so many other things , he can't remember
HIS NAME IS EVERYWHERE . His parents didn't even bother hiding the fact that their son somehow has enough money to fund these projects, everyone knows him now.
He ends up basically owning most of amity park.
And here he thought he wouldn't be the kind of king that expands their territory.
He was extremely UNSUCCESSFUL in that.
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astonmartinii · 8 months
Text
we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem reader
max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.
view all comments
user1: gosh they are so cute
user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?
maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty
yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort
maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you
yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry
maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take
user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween
user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it
landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?
yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count
landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?
maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE
yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me
landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME
maxverstappen1: do better then.
user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time
charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress
yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed
maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it
charles_leclerc: might???
maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram
yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on
danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair
view all comments
user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T
user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?
user10: has max even seen this film?
maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do
user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties
oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station
yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again
oscarpiastri: AGAIN?
maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving
alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it
user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?
yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume
alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here
charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year
danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year
maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far
yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x
user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.
view all comments
user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY
user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume
user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses
oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween
yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am
oscarpiastri: oops.
maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles
landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower
yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain
landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL
yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read
landonorris: no comment
yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us
charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET
maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute
carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?
charles_leclerc: NO
alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY
yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second
user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween
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user20: drunk max looks like so much fun
yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind
user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?
alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW
charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year
landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again
charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon
oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask
maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)
yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year
oscarpiastri: i'm in
user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?
maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume
danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse
estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos
yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement
carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub
georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt
carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there
user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it
maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends
yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that
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note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx
3K notes · View notes
redstarwriting · 1 year
Text
shit happens
spider squad x platonic!reader
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request?: yes
request: “Okokok, first of all CLASH WAS SOOOO GOOD OMGGI come bearing a request only if u want to. Teen!spider!reader who is Miguel’s favorite because they don’t cause him trouble. But it’s only because they get severely anxious when they break rules (I’m not projecting, you are). So he assigns them to go on a mission with the problem children hoping they’ll rub off on them, but the problem children just corrupt them. I just need more spider children being chaotic together and tired spiderdad MiguelMwah mwah love ur writing )pls only write this if u feel like it)”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2k
genre: platonic
Warnings: language, anxiety, Miguel being unrealistic with his expectations, electrocution, spider squad gettin thrown around
A/N: omg wait no bc same HAHA as someone with diagnosed severe generalized anxiety i get so anxious to break the rules even though my spirit always tells me to lol, i hope you enjoyed this anon! thank you for the request :)
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You were the golden child. There were quite a few teens in Spider Society, but you were by far Miguel’s favorite. And that’s all because you did what he said. Now did that mean you never questioned his authority? Of course not, you questioned him all the time. But you were too nervous to go against him. You were too nervous to go against anyone. It’s proven a problem in your job since the police are not your biggest fans, but luckily you befriended a nice police captain who eases your fears every now and again. Your weekly visits with Spider-Therapist have been helping with the problem, too. Which is great for you. But you still did what Miguel said. Mans could be scary.
And that’s how you ended up here. With Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, and Pavitr Prabhakar. There was an anomaly that needed taken down in Hobie’s world, and Miguel stuck you with the four of them. To say you were nervous was an understatement. “Right, so anyone got a plan?” Hobie asks, in his thick accent. “What? What do you mean, dude, we’re in your world,” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “So? Not my villain, dunno ‘ow to stop ‘im.”
“Okay, well we know that he’s an electro variant, so… what can we do with that?” Gwen asks, and Pav sighs. “Be electrocuted,” he says sadly. “Miles can handle that,” Gwen says, and Miles snaps his head toward her. “Miles cannot handle that! Why are we saying Miles can be electrocuted?!” Miles yells, and the other three shush him. “’ow ‘bout you, mate, any ideas?” Hobie asks you, and you shrug. You look around before pointing up to the water towers on the roofs of the multiple buildings in New London. “Water,” you suggest, and they all look where you’re pointing. “Smart,” Gwen says with a nod. “How do we get the water to him, though?” Pav asks, looking at you again. You frown. “I… actually didn’t think that far.”
“Well, ‘at’s, easy. We just bust ‘em. Get ‘im to fly near one and,” Hobie makes an explosion noise and uses his hands to imitate an explosion. “What? But what about all the people who will lose water?” you ask, and Miles cocks his head to the side. “It’ll get fixed fast, probably. It’s our job to fuck shit up and then have other people fix it cause if we don’t fuck shit up, shit gets fucked anyways,” he says, and you sigh. “But Miguel said to try and not cause too much of an issue—”
“Oi. Who gives a flyin’ fuck what ‘e said. Not me. And this is my bloody world, I’ll cause as much damage as I want to,” Hobie says, and you look down. “Sorry.”
“You don’t gotta apologize for nothin’, mate,” Hobie says, and you mumble another ‘sorry.’ “You know what? I think Electro can wait a minute,” Hobie says, turning towards you, “More important matters to figure out ‘ere.”
“Like what?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks, and you gulp. “I-I’m not, I just—”
“You definitely are,” Gwen says, and Miles throws in a ‘yup!’ with a nod. “Is it us?” Pav asks, a hint of sadness in his voice. “W-What? No, that’s not it,” you say, waving your hands in a frantic way to say no. “I just am nervous in general. It really isn’t that big of a deal, guys, we should be focusing on—”
“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this, you been in ya ‘ead this ‘ole time.”
“I’m always in my head, it really isn’t that big of a deal—”
“Is ‘at why you try to avoid everyone? Don’t talk to no one?” Hobie asks, and you gulp. “I-I talk to some people…” you mumble, and a small frown forms on Gwen’s face. “The therapist in Spider Society doesn’t count,” she says, and you look down. “Well, why not…? He’s a person...”
“Because he’s like 40, and you’re our age,” Pav says, “you’d get along better with us, bro.”
“Miguel said that if anyone could make us not as ‘moronic’ it would be you, but I feel like he just kinda takes advantage of you instead of recognizing the pressure he puts on you. I have some experience with that,,” Miles says, and you sigh. “He scares me, okay? If I break the rules then I might simply pass away from him yelling at me,” you say, and Hobie shakes his head. “Love, the rules are all bollocks. Made by people who just wanna control your life.” Gwen nods. “Miguel is cool, sure, but if anyone can get away with anything… it’s you,” she says, and Miles chimes in. “And if you’re really that scared, remember he literally chased me around his world and destroyed a train because of me. You’ll never piss him off to that point.” You stay silent, playing with your fingers. Pav reaches out and grabs your hands. “Rules are meant to be broken, (Y/n), I learned that from Hobie. And besides, the villains we face are the biggest rule-breakers imaginable,” Pav assures, and you nod slightly. “And rules are such rubbish. ‘ey’re always different anywhere ya go. Try not to put so much weight on your mind ‘bout it, breakin’ ‘em ain’t a big deal,” Hobie says. You do actually kinda feel better. Hobie brings up a good point. Rules are different everywhere you go, so breaking one every now and again isn’t that big of an issue. In fact, it can be kind of encouraged. “Besides, breaking rules is almost like challenging ideologies, you know? Like, in breaking a rule, you challenge a system in place that is telling you not to break them. No one likes that. Where would we be if people didn’t break rules?” Gwen says. “That was deep,” Miles says, and Pav nods. “'at was a wicked way a’ puttin’ it, Gwendy.”
That’s a good point, actually. You think for a bit. If you look at it as challenging a system, or even doing what’s right, who’s to say it’s a rule that shouldn’t be broken? Hobie smiles underneath his mask because he knows they’ve gotten through to you. “So, whaddya say we go blow up some water tanks, eh?” Hobie stands, rubbing his hands together. “Okay,” you say. Gwen and Miles fist bump, and Pav does a little clap. The five of you jump into action, immediately starting to taunt and lure Electro to get him close to the towers so you can douse him and put him out.
The plan was going pretty well for the first two attempts, but he eventually catches on to what the five of you are doing. Which makes it harder. Miles does, in fact, get electrocuted. As does Gwen and Hobie, and coming in as no shock to anyone, Miles is definitely the least affected. You were able to dodge all of the attacks. “You’re doing great, (Y/n)! Mind telling me how the fuck your spidey sense is so strong?!” you hear Miles yell. “MILES LOOK OUT!” Gwen screams, but it’s too late. He gets electrocuted again. “Ouch, bro! That one looked like it hurt!” Pav yells, and Miles, who is now lying face down on a roof, raises his hand up in the air, flipping him off. You snort, and then see Hobie fly past you, landing on another water tower. “Hey! Dumbass! Over here!”
“Oh, please. You expect me to fall for that? I know what your little plan is, and I’m not about to be put out,” Electro says, firing some electricity out at Hobie. Unluckily for Hobie, it breaks the water tower and electrocutes him and the water that pours out of it.
You land next to Hobie, who is now just laying on the rooftop, but he grunts and mutters some British slang that you wouldn’t understand even if he explained it to you. So, you know he’s fine. “I have an idea,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But we need to make sure no one is on the street.”
“What’s the goody-goody plannin’ on doin’, huh?” he says, standing. “You’ll see, just make sure there are no civilians or anyone who will get hurt. And keep him distracted.” With that, you leap and go to another one of the water towers. You take a deep breath, thinking back to what Miguel said before the five of you left.
“Try not to destroy the city while you’re at it. (Y/n), I trust you’ll keep them all in line,” Miguel said, and you timidly nod. You’d love to not destroy the city, but it’s so hard doing that as a Spider-Person. But you also don’t want him to yell at you for going against his orders. Now you’re conflicted. “No promises, Miguel. We’re gonna do what we gotta do,” Miles says and Miguel sighs. “If anyone can reign the four of you in, it’s this one. Don’t let them pressure you into acting up, okay?”
You frown. Fuck that. Miguel is pressuring you into not doing your job right. You can’t always be perfect and careful. And lucky for you, the four of them were really good at distracting villains. You web two of the support legs, yanking them and breaking them off the water tower. It starts collapsing, but you catch it. “Shit, you’re heavy,” you grunt, but regain your balance, holding it on your shoulders. You twist your body, ripping the other supports off and making the water tower completely free. You get Electro in your sight and take a deep breath. You lift the water tower, tossing it up in the air before leaping out of the way and towards Electro. You shoot webs from both hands, connecting them to the water tower and yanking it towards you. You swing it around, connecting it with Electro’s body. Sure enough, it knocks him down and explodes on impact, drenching him. And you. And Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav; but hey, you did it.
You land on a roof and look down. Sure enough, Electro is knocked out cold and completely out of electricity. You swing down, placing him in one of the technological cells that Miguel developed specifically for Electros, and nod. “That… probably could have gone better,” you mutter to yourself. Your self-deprecating thoughts were cut off immediately. “That was AWESOME, (Y/n),” Gwen says, giving you a thumbs up and hug. “Yeah, little Spider, that was bitchin’,” Hobie says, giving you a fist bump. “You made it look so easy! How did you do that, you have to teach me!” Pav says, clearly excited and impressed. “You were out here talking about how you didn’t wanna break rules so instead you broke an entire water tower? That’s cool, why don’t you try being less cool next time for the sake of us,” Miles says giving you a pat on the shoulder. You smile. “Thanks, guys.” Their praise was enough to make you feel better for completely and totally wreaking havoc.
But when the five of you return, soaking wet, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I said… to not destroy the city…” he mutters, looking at you with disappointment. You look down. “City’s still standin’, mate. (Y/n) kicked ass,” Hobie says, and the other three make sounds of agreement. “Y-Yeah, Miguel. All I did was break one water tower, it’s not that big of a deal,” you say, and he sighs. “One? You all broke four water towers on four different buildings! And you flooded an entire street! You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Dude. I’m a teenager. Shit happens,” you say, a sudden burst of confidence from being around the group of four allowing you to speak out. Miguel puts his hand on his jaw, sliding his hand down. “Remind me to never team the five of you up again,” he mumbles, and Hobie elbows you. “Nah, we’re a band now. Sorry ‘bout it,” Hobie says, motioning everyone to leave Miguel’s sight. You all follow. When you’re out of Miguel’s office, Hobie bumps your shoulder. “See, that wasn’t all that bad, was it?”
He was right, it wasn’t that bad.
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3K notes · View notes
bbydoll18xx · 2 months
Text
Guilty As Sin?
'We've already done it in my head'
Paige Bueckers x reader
I've never written anything, so this could very well be terrible, but I have a teeny tiny crush and it's killing me lol here we go!
word count: 3.1k
warnings: some naughty thoughts, ANGST, friends to lovers aka my fave
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If there was one thing you had learned throughout your time at uconn, it was that it was pretty fucking difficult being Paige Buecker’s best friend. 
You had met her early in your freshman year when the boisterous blonde was partnered with you in an introductory biology course. You attempted to hold back a groan and an eyeroll as you heard your professor assign the two of you together for an upcoming lab project. You hated group projects, and even more, you could not stand the prospect of not getting a good grade in a class so important for your major. 
Paige, even as a freshman, was extremely popular. Her incessant smirk caused girls to blush under her gaze, and the boys basically broke their necks trying to impress her. She was the type of girl who knew she was hot shit.
Unfortunately, that was your type.
As Paige strolled over to where you were waiting for her, you tried desperately to ignore the uptick of your pulse. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself. Girls like that should have no control over you.
“Hey, I’m Paige. I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered someone like you,” she murmurs flirtatiously, looking you up and down. Trying to keep the pink out of your cheeks and taking a deep breath, you hold out your hand and introduce yourself. 
That was the beginning of the wildly complex and intimate friendship you would build with Paige.
As a senior in college, you had learned many things: don't drink copious amounts of alcohol without eating some carbs first, avoid getting into ubers alone, do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your TA, and falling in love with your best friend is never good.
It started off innocently enough.
Paige was clingy and affectionate to those she was close with. You, being bisexual and surrounded by mostly straight people before coming to uconn, were hesitant with showing any sort of affection. You had always worried about accidentally giving your girl friends the wrong impression. Paige never cared, though, as she conditioned you into accepting hugs and tentative hand-holding. You grew to crave her warm, longer fingers wrapped around yours or her hand resting on your leg when she’s next to you at dinner or in the car. 
You had realized you were head over heels for her in your sophomore year, and the rest was history.
History you’d very much like to forget.
You were laying on the couch in your apartment. Music filled the room and you basked in the warmth of the sunshine. You rarely have moments of peace anymore, now that school had started back up.
Suddenly, the front door flung open dramatically, allowing several members of uconn’s women’s basketball team to enter as if they owned the place. 
“Hey girlie pop!” screamed KK. “We are going out tonight, and before you say no, you are coming with us.” 
“What happened to bodily autonomy?” You questioned with an eye roll. This happened all the time. Paige and her teammates had made it their personal mission to turn you into an alcoholic.
“Fuck that,” chirped Paige. “You had all week to chill, and I will not stand for that shit for another minute. Party P is comin' out in full force tonight, and I expect the same from yo' ass."
You let your eyes lock with hers. God that shade of blue made you want to drown in it, gasping for sanity as if it was air. 
“C’mon, you always do this. We’re going crazy tonight,” demanded Nika.
Pretending to think about it, you hesitantly agree. You didn’t have any control when it came to Paige. Whatever she wanted from you, she got. You chalked it up to being best friends, but your stupid brain always reminded you of the true source of power.
Paige, Nika, KK, and Azzi all celebrated as you acquiesced, already planning drink orders, outfits, and song requests at the bar they always frequented.
You sighed as Paige sat down next to you. You could handle this. You always did. Focused on anything other than her, you pick at a piece of lint on the soft green couch. Everything seemed to be a distraction from her. The heat of her body sends your pulse racing, just as it did the very first time you met. She really was an enigma.
“I’m glad you’re coming,” she murmurs softly. “Wouldn't be the same if you weren’t there.”
Taking a page out of the Paige playbook, you look her up and down and respond with an “I know.” She momentarily wears a look of shock, before her lips slide into that smirk again, and she laughs. The sound makes you want to run through a field of flowers and then jump from a building.
The pregame was, like always, chaotic, loud, and gave you anxiety. A drunk Paige was a clingy Paige, and you were not sure you could handle the extra touching tonight. One of the bottles of vodka that sat on the counter in the kitchen was beckoning to you, and you decided quickly that the only way you were getting through the night was with copious amounts of alcohol.
As you swallowed with a grimace, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly, the door opened. Paige appeared, rubbing her hands together, looking like she was ready to fuck shit up. Your shit already felt ruined as you gulped at the sight of her. The black crop top she had on made you quickly spin around, shooting another shot in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the hunger that was brewing.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there. We don’t need you wasted before we even leave,” Paige taunts teasingly, as she saunters over to you.
With your cheeks pink and inhibitions already lowered, you licked your lips in a manner you could only hope looked seductive and put the bottle into her outstretched hand. For the second time today, a flicker of surprise graced her features. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘Two can play that game.’ 
As Ted’s was close to the apartments you all were living in, it was decided that a walk would be more efficient than attempting to wrangle the numerous already drunk girls into ubers.
You cherished the warm breeze flowing through your hair, allowing it to briefly sober you up.  Walking alongside Azzi and Caroline, you let out another small sigh, catching their attention. Your feelings were evident to pretty much everyone except Paige, and her teammates often tried to coax you into admitting your feelings to her. 
“Try to have fun tonight. Find someone hot to grind on, and you’ll feel better,” Azzi said unhelpfully. You laughed, but it wasn't a bad idea. “You’re right. I need a distraction. And preferably someone who is not blonde,” You muttered, causing Azzi and Caroline to giggle. 
Paige’s head whipped around at the sound of laughter. She pouted for a second before bounding over to you. She secretly hated the attention you gave her teammates; she wanted you all to herself.
Paige was possessive, as well as mouthy when drunk, which could be a messy combination. But Paige did not care about being messy tonight. She wanted your attention and your attention only. She knew she could very well embarrass herself, but the desperation of needing your attentiveness was far more important. She could handle her anxieties in the morning. 
“There’s my pretty princess,” Paige announces loudly, taking your hand into hers, almost possessively. The pet name wasn’t unfamiliar. Paige called you every name under the sun except the one on your birth certificate, yet the sudden affection caused your heart to lurch dangerously.
You needed a drink.
The bar was already buzzing when you walked in alongside the girls, still being pulled along by the tall blonde. You were fortunate it was dark inside, allowing a sense of privacy to indulge in the intimacy Paige was supplying to you.
She places a hand on your waist, looking down at you. “Imma get you a drink, babe. Stay here with the girls, and do not let any creeps touch you.” You could tell the few drinks she had at the pregame were already getting to her. She was getting more proprietorial.
You nodded, but you wanted to see how far you could push her. You’d do anything for her attention, even if that meant flirting with a boring guy to test her. She was sexy when she was pissed.
You fantasized about the way her jaw clenches when she's angry, as you scoped out for someone to be the target of your favorite unhealthy game. A six-foot blonde with light blue eyes catches your gaze, and you smirk. ‘Game time,’ you think.
With a smoldering look in your eyes, and the alcohol in your veins to keep you feeling confident, you walk up to the guy and introduce yourself. You find out his name was Josh and quickly shift in closer to him, feigning intimacy you would only ever want with Paige. 
It’s not long before you feel Paige slide between you and Josh, creating the distance you wanted since you walked up to him. 
“Paigey!” you exclaim. “This is Josh. He wants to dance with me.”
You see Paige jaw clench in annoyance and she pushes the drink she brought you into your hand before wrapping her now free arm around your waist with her hand splayed against your belly. You shiver at the contact.
“Go away before I make you, bro. She’s mine,” Paige practically barks at Josh. He shrinks away with a weird expression on his face.
You weren’t sad to see him go.
“Thanks for rescuing me, Paigey,” you beam up at her and take a drink. Paige’s eyes never leave your lips as you bite them, looking around the crowded bar. Your lips are pink from the gloss you just applied, and she thinks about how they’d feel against hers. 
Paige would never admit it aloud, but she thinks about you. She thinks about your dimples when you smile at her. She thinks about your laugh. She thinks about how you taste. In her head, they are together. In her head, you are spread out underneath her, begging for her tongue, her fingers, for anything.
Paige is used to people throwing themselves at her, and the idea of rejection, especially from you, makes her shrink back in fear. 
Paige’s eyes are hazy as the dirty Shirley starts to float its way through her veins. She relishes in the feeling of lowered inhibitions and the perfect excuse to get closer to you. Paige pulls you into her to dance. With the alcohol fully in your system, as well, you giggle and seductively dance against her. You can feel the tight muscles of her abs up against you, and you swallow thickly. It's difficult to ignore the way it makes you feel hot and sticky. 
“God, P,” you mumbled against her pale throat. 
“You look so good dancin’ against me, you don’t even know, babe,” Paige replies with her signature smirk.
You could feel the boundaries of your friendship slowly stretching to accommodate the feelings of lust sparking between the two of you.
Between the dancing and the large amounts of alcohol flowing, the night flew by quickly. Soon, you were getting pulled through the door and back out into the chilly Connecticut air with Paige holding you steady. You were a notorious lightweight compared to the girls of the basketball team, and that hadn’t changed tonight. 
“P-paigeyyy,” you whined needily. “Need you,” you pouted up at the blonde. The other girls in your vicinity shared curious looks with each other. You had never acted like this before whilst drunk, and no one really knew how to respond, Paige included. 
“What do ya need from me, princess?” Paige asked with a chuckle.
You motion for her to lean down, and you whisper in her ear, “kisses.” 
“Oh? You wanna kiss me?” Paige questions, feeling all the blood rush to her head.
You nod with a dreamy look on your face. You were going to regret this in the morning, but right now all you could think about was how soft her lips looked and how much you wished you could be hers.
'We've already done it in my head,' you thought drunkenly.
Paige looks down at you with an unrecognizable look, but she presses a soft kiss on your forehead and says, ‘“let's get you home and to bed, doll.” 
As you stumble back into Paige’s apartment and onto her bed, you look up at her and raise your hands over your head, making grabby hands at her. Paige rolls her eyes fondly but helps you get undressed. Walking you into the bathroom, she lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly, helping you take your makeup off and brush your teeth.
It felt so domestic you could cry.
Climbing into bed, your drunk mind prepared itself to sleep next to Paige. It would never feel like enough to you. You wanted all of her. 
Paige lies down behind you, wrapping a long and muscular arm around your waist, caging you in just the way you like it. You are a second away from sleep enveloping you, when you think you hear Paige whisper, “I am so in love with you.”
Your heart stops.
You wake up the next morning with your head pounding. You squint your eyes and look around. Paige is still sleeping next to you. You gently smile as you gaze at her peaceful figure. You wish you could stop time to stay here in this bubble with her. Soon, you’ll go back to being just Paige’s best friend, and the relationship you’ve built up in your head will come crashing back down.
Soon enough, the blonde wakes up, ripping you from your daydreams. She smiles at you, and turns over to completely face your body. “Crazy night, huh,” she alludes slyly.
Your eyebrows crinkle in question. “Did something happen?"
“Uh yeah…you don’t remember what you said to me?” she asks.
You shake your head in confusion, but you start to attempt to recall the events of last night, and all of a sudden it comes back to you. You recall asking her to kiss you, hanging all over her, and the incessant pouting and neediness. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, and immediately you jump out of bed to leave.
“Wait, don’t go please,” Paige pleads in a way that is startling unlike her.
You ignore her pleas, gathering your stuff and running out of her apartment. Tears burn your eyes as they threaten to slide down your face. You try to stifle your sobs as you climb the stairs two at a time and get to your own door. You throw yourself into your shower as you attempt to drown out your own cries. 
As you sat on the floor of your shower you could not believe how stupid you were. Drunk flirting with your best friend would be the end of your friendship. You could see it already. Paige coming to you, trying to let you down easy. You felt so humiliated.
You sat there until the water got uncomfortably cold, leaving goosebumps against your skin. As you toweled off, you replayed the events of last night in your head for the millionth time. The dancing in the bar, the walk back to Paige’s apartment, her helping you undress. You sigh at the idea of losing her before it all comes crashing back.
“I am so in love with you,” she had whispered into your hair. You still at the memory. Paige loves you? Sure it's common knowledge that you loved and craved her with all of your being, but a love that was requited? It was almost too much to think about. 
You grab your phone that you had left abandoned on the couch and see the messages from the blonde. Messages of regret and longing fill your phone. One more pops up as you scroll, saying ‘I’m coming over. I won’t let you avoid me over this bullshit.’ 
A few moments passed before there was a loud banging on the door to your apartment. You had never felt so appreciative that your roommates had left for the weekend. Your breath grew ragged as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a panting Paige. Her blue eyes looked almost wild as they met yours.
“C’mere, just let me explain,” she says quietly. You weren't used to Paige being quiet and almost solemn. It scared you, just as the thought of confrontation did. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. 
Fighting your own instincts to immediately bolt, you gingerly sit on the couch where she had already made herself comfortable. Some things never change.
“Listen,” she starts out cautiously. “I never want things to be weird between us. I never imagined I would be feeling this way towards someone who was just a friend, but…I think we haven’t been ‘just friends’ in a while.”
You finally allow yourself to meet her gaze, trying to search for any semblance of where this conversation could possibly be going. Surprisingly, she looked hopeful, as if she knew something you did not.
“I-i want you. Like, more than a friend,” Paige stutters out, “And I think you feel the same way. We’ve both been too scared to admit it, but I’m tired of ignoring how you literally make me feel whole.”
You blink back more tears in realization that the last three years of hell of being only Paige Bueckers’ best friend was finally coming to an end. She could finally be all yours and yours only.
Without thinking, you place a hand on her jaw, bringing her to your lips. They meet yours with such hesitancy you almost think you’ve ruined the delicate balance of what you are to each other at the moment. Paige lets out a breathy sigh and pulls you onto her lap. 
You were heavenstruck. 
As the both of you finally pull away from the drug of a kiss, you look at each other and giggle.
“So much for the dramatics, I guess,” laughs Paige. 
You smile, rolling your eyes. “Not my fault,” you pout. “I have no control when it comes to you, P.”
“Same,” grins Paige. “The only thing left to do is figure out how to tell the girls. They’ve all been beggin’ me to tell you ‘bout my lil crush on you.”
“Those bitches knew?” you ask incredulously.
“Well yeah,” Paige says. “I’m not subtle.”
You giggle at how stupid you felt. The signs were there all along, but the fear of rejection and the cloud of lust had obscured any indications of reciprocity. 
“Let’s just start making out the next time we’re in front of them and see how they react,” Paige suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. 
You could hear the whoops and cheers already.
“Deal,” you say blissfully. 
She was finally yours. 
710 notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Mini Sainz
Pairing: Dad!Carlos Sainz x Reader x Son Santi
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnant reader, reader feels big because she’s so pregnant, dad carlos is adorable, fluff
Words: 2.7K
A/N: if anyone knows why I named their son, great minds think alike
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"I'm a whale." You moan, annoyed, tired, just exhausted all around.
"You're not a whale. You're pregnant." Lando snickers as he walks past you, making sure you are as comfortable as someone who could be 9 months pregnant.
"Lando, I'm serious. I can't even see my own feet or anything." You whine, stabbing your fingers into your side to stop the sharp pain you feel, disappearing when you put pressure on it.
"Maybe, you shouldn't come to the Grand Prix." He ponders but stops seeing your harsh glare.
"It's his home race. Besides, I want to be around him." You huff, fixing the fan next to you.
9 months pregnant, and in Spain, it was not a good mix. It wasn't hot, just fantastic, but to you, it felt horrible. Never would you be pregnant in the spring or summer again. This was the last time.
"Yes. I know Y/n. You'll see him soon." Lando comforts you, pushing the fan closer as he watches some sign of improvement.
"Uncle Lando?" A small voice pulls Lando's attention from his best friend to his godson.
"Santiago? You should be taking your nap." Lando moves to the 5-year-old and picks him up with ease.
"Mama in pain?" He asks, resting his head in the croak of his uncle's neck, worried about his Mama.
"A little bit, buddy. But, it'll be okay when we see your Papa." The smile that covers the boy's face melts Lando making him even consider for a second having kids.
"Mama doesn't like being away from Papa. Should we call?" Lando snorts, knowing damn well that you didn't like your husband away from you this far in your pregnancy.
"No, we're about to leave anyways. Let's get you dressed, okay?" He asks the little boy nodding as Lando takes him to get dressed.
Lando returns with your first child, and you snort, seeing bright orange.
"Carlos is going to kill you." You giggle, seeing Santiago wearing a Mclaren shirt.
"Ehh, he owes me anyways. I'm taking care of a toddler and a very pissed-off pregnant you. I get the kid wearing my shirt." Lando shrugs. If you weren't so tired, you'd smack Lando into the next century.
"Help me up, you dick." You whisper, knowing Santiago is in his repeat everything he hears phase.
With ease, Lando moves beside you and helps you up, resting a hand on your back and stomach. Feeling a little thump against his hand, Lando smiles; the kid was going to be a trip.
"Alright, Sainz's, let's go!" Santiago squeals and runs to you but stops short, knowing you can't pick him up.
"Uncle Lando! Up!" Santiago declares, making the Mclaren driver smile, and you roll your eyes.
Arriving at the paddock, you wince, feeling that sharp pain again, but take a deep breath, and it goes away again. You knew you should be worried about those pains, but the baby wasn't due till the end of the month, so you still had a couple weeks before they were expected.
"Why does my family look like yours?" Santiago squeals and wiggles out of Lando's arms and rushes his father.
"Papa!" He screams, Carlos scooping him up before the little one can fall.
People liked to call Lando the second husband because he was always helping you. But he was your childhood friend, Carlos's best friend, and the godfather to your son. He was family.
"Ooh. Easy big guy." Carlos coddles, kissing his son's cheek before immediately handing him off to Lando and at your side.
"Corazón? Are you okay?" Carlos asks, seeing the discomfort on your face. But the moment he touches you, it fades away as you lean into your husband's body.
"Now I am." Carlos moves to support you on your side and walks you down to the Ferrari hospitality building.
"Why is my angel wearing a Mclaren shirt?" You snort loudly, seeing Lando chase the little boy, both matching.
"Lando dressed him. Besides, give him this one. He's staying in Spain to help us when the baby arrives." You touch Carlos's cheek, who just nods but already planning on how to switch the shirts later.
Getting to the building, you notice Santi isn't next to Lando and feel that panic, but it slams shut when you see a familiar brunette holding your son.
"No, Uncle Charles! Uncle Lando said we'd match today." Your son's cheeks puffed out; in that way, he pouts.
"You're a son of a Ferrari driver. You don't want to hurt your Papa's feelings, right?" He asks, which gets a slap on the back of his head from Lando.
"Don't manipulate the boy, you douche." While Charles lets out a string of curses, you watch the exchange, Carlos, paying no mind to keep an eye on you.
"Yeah, douche." The laughs stop as you all face a red-faced Santiago, who looks ready to cry.
"Santiago Sainz Vazquez de Castro." Wincing at Carlos's harsh tone, your son's eyes grow wide and watery.
"Apologize to Uncle Charles right now! You don't use that type of language. Do you understand me?" Santiago's bottom lip starts to wobble, and your heart breaks for your baby. Santi looked up to his father so much and rarely got in trouble with him. So when he did, this would make Santi cry.
"I'm sorry," Santi whispers, hugging Charles, who chuckles and pats the boy's back.
"It's okay, Santi. I know you didn't mean it." Charles kisses his head and sits down, dragging Lando away so Carlos can talk to his son.
Crouching down, you watch as Carlos turns Santi to look at him. They're twins, if anyone wanted to contest the father of your child, put Carlos and his side by side, and you've got a mini-adult Carlos before you.
"Santiago, why are you in trouble?" Carlos asks as Santi sniffles, wiping away his tears with his little hands.
"Because I said a bad thing to Uncle Charles." You try not to cry too. Fucking hormones. Santi rarely cried, so seeing his little face, red and tear-stained, you wanted to hold him close.
"And what do we not do?" Carlos sighs, holding Santi's tiny hands in his own.
"Say bad things that can hurt people." He mumbles, looking his father in the eyes. Carlos's tough father act breaks automatically seeing his little boy's face.
"Come here." Carlos pulls Santi into a hug and stands up, rubbing his back as Santi wraps his arms and legs around his father as best as he can.
"Let's get some cold air for your Mama, yeah?" Carlos asks, following you into the cold air.
"This is heaven." You moan, reaching a private area and sitting down as slowly as possible.
"Can we get a fan?" Carlos asks one of the workers, who eyes you and nods, going down to hunt a fan for you.
"Mama," Santiago whines, climbs onto the couch and puts his head on your stomach.
"Yeah, baby?" Fingers pushing back those gorgeous Sainz's locks, so happy he got Carlos's eyes and hair.
"Is baby being bad?" He asks, touching your stomach while Carlos sets up the fan to blow right on you.
"No. I'm just.....big." You groan, trying to stop the flash of pain on your face, but Carlos sees it anyways.
"You're not big. Stand up." Carlos helps you stand and moves to stand behind you.
Wrapping his arms below your belly, he starts to lift, and you practically melt right then and there as the weight is lifted off.
"If I could marry you again, I would." You moan, making Carlos smile, loving the pleasure that covers your face.
"Do me a favor?" You ask, Carlos nodding as he would do anything you'd ask.
"Of course, Y/n. What is it? Is it the baby? Is it time?" Mind running faster than he can keep up, but you cover his hands under your belly, soothing him instantly.
"Take Santiago with you." Carlos lets your stomach down slowly before facing you, confused as hell.
"Carlos, I can't give him the attention he needs right now. When the baby comes, we won't be able to pay much attention in the beginning. Besides, he idolizes you, Carlos. Take him to the garage, and let him sit on the pit wall. Let him run wild. Give him the best day of his life." You plead to look at your son, who watches the TV and squeals, seeing Uncle Charles beside his car.
"Santi? Want to spend the day with me?" Carlos asks; without an answer, Santiago takes off but stops and runs back. Getting on his tiptoes, he kisses your stomach and whines holding his arms up. Carlos lifts him up, and Santi kisses you before kicking his feet and taking off.
"Bye, Mama! Bye, baby! Be good!" He yells and takes off, Carlos cussing and rushing after his son.
Carlos catches up and swoops the boy up, making him squeal in delight as passersby smile at the father and son.
"Where to first, mi vida?" Carlos asks, tickling the boy, who laughs more.
"There!" Seeing the bright green that catches his eye, knowing who he wants to see.
"Want to go there?" He settles Santi in his arms and walks into the Aston Martin garage.
"Abeulo Fernando!" All the mechanics turn their heads, some laugh seeing who screamed that, as Fernando groans, hating being called that by the mini Sainz.
"Are you ever going to tell your son to stop calling me that?" Fernando asks, accepting Santi into his arms, who lays his head on his shoulder.
"No, because we all know it pisses you off." Carlos chuckles and watches how relaxed his son is.
"Where's Y/n? Has she had the baby already?" Before Carlos can answer, Santi does for his father.
"The baby is being mean to Mama. Mama said she's a whale. Uncle Lando said she wasn't but has a tummy like a whale Abeulo Fernando. Why is that?" The boy leaves the two Spaniards sputtering as he rattles off what he had heard this morning.
"Well...your little sibling is growing. Your Mama had the same tummy when you were there. But she doesn't have a whale tummy." Fernando laughs at Carlos's disbelief.
"Don't ever say she has a whale tummy. Okay, Santi?" Carlos presses, knowing the absolute mess the hormones would make you if your angel called you a whale.
"Abeulo Fernando? Are you going to win today? That'd be awesome if you did!" Lance laughs, walks past them, and claps Carlos's shoulder.
"Wearing a Mclaren shirt and wants Fernando to win. Are we sure that he's yours?" Lance laughs, making Carlos rolls his eyes and take Santi back.
"Okay, yeah, we're leaving." Carlos groans as Fernando and Lance make fun of him on the way out.
"Papa, you'd win anyways. It'd be cool for Abeulo Fernando to get the smaller win." Santi explains, Carlos promising he wouldn't cry hearing those words.
"Thank you, mi vida. Want to see Uncle Lando or Uncle Pierre?" He asks and sees his baby's eyes brighten.
"Uncle Pierre." Shocked at his choice, having thought by his reaction he'd pick Lando.
Walking closer to the paddock, Santi wiggles wanting to let down. "Okay, but hold my hand, mi vida." He urges, but Santi shakes his head no.
"I'm a big boy." He whines, and Carlos thinks this over and sighs, putting his hand on his back and leading him to Alpine.
"Well...look who is here." Pierre laughs and goes to pick up Santi like always, but the young boy steps away, confusing the French men.
"Uncle Pierre......is Kika here?" The young boy asks, face red and looking away.
"Umm.....yeah, she's over there." He points out the model watching the mechanics work on the car.
Santi takes off and tugs on Kika's pant leg, getting her attention as she melts, seeing Santi's smiling face, and picks him up.
"He picked you over Lando. If he was here, I thought he'd want to play with you and Charles. Guess...I was completely off." Carlos explains as Pierre laughs.
"Little man is growing up. Wanted to talk to Kika more than me. Actually....proud of him." Carlos glared, hating that his son already has a crush at age 5.
"Don't encourage this. Y/n will kill you." He watches Santi laugh as Kika walks around the garage and onto the pit wall so Santi can see the track.
"How is she? Charles and Lando said she looks.....ready." Pierre chooses his word carefully as Carlos is one to be very protective when it comes to you being pregnant.
"She should've stayed home, but everyone is here, so she's at the hospitality and can be somewhat comfortable," Carlos explains but stops the conversation when Santi comes running up with a smiling Kika behind him.
"Papa! Papa! Can we? Can we?" He asks as Kika pats his head and explains how she said that Pierre and her could take Santi for a couple nights when the baby arrives.
"Mi Vida, I thought you wanted to stay with Uncle Lando? It'll hurt his feelings if you change your mind." Santi ponders on it and looks at Kika.
"But...Papa.....I'm always with Uncle Lando." He whines, and Kika giggles while Pierre rolls his eyes.
"Okay, let me talk to Mama about it, and if. And I mean if she's okay with it. Uncle Pierre and Kika stay at the house with you and Uncle Lando?" He asks
Santi squeals and hugs his Papa, Kika's legs, then hugs Pierre, who smiles.
"Am I going to have to be worried about a 5-year-old stealing you now?" He asks Kika, who rolls her eyes and slaps his chest.
"Stop, he's adorable, besides it's hard to say no to those big brown eyes." Kika shrugs as Santi talks with a mechanic. Carlos checks his watch and curses, seeing he's got to get ready for the 3rd practice, and walks up to Santi, picking him up.
"Come on, Santi, we've got to go. Say, thank you to everyone." Santi yells his thanks as Carlos walks to the Ferrari garage.
Santi watched the world around him; Carlos knew his nap time was getting close, so he tried to keep the little guy awake until they reached the garage. Walking in, everyone cheers, seeing their youngest member, who just waves and buries himself into his Papa's chest.
"Alright, Mi Vida, I have to get ready now. But, I'm gonna give you to Uncle Charles. Think you can stay awake until I come back?" He asks, hoping he doesn't fall asleep.
"Yes, m big boy Papa." He whines from the movement of his Uncle Charles grabbing him.
"Try to keep him awake. If he falls asleep on you, you won't be able to escape." Carlos rushes and heads to get ready as Charles and Santi stare at each other.
"Wanna sit in my car?" He asks, seeing new energy come to the boy as he nods. Charles smiles and gently places the boy in the number 16 Ferrari as he crouches down, explaining everything.
Carlos returns and stops watching his boy be so happy to be here.
"Uncle Charles.....are Mama and Papa going to be busy with the new baby?" Carlos moves out of sight to hear what they're talking about.
"Yes, but that's why Uncle Lando, Uncle Pierre, Kika, and maybe I will be here in Spain to be with you," Charles explains, knowing Santi was brilliant and telling the truth was better for him.
"Is Papa going to be doing this with the baby too?" Santi asks, lowering his head.
"What do you mean?" Charles asks, confused about what the toddler is thinking.
"Papa and I do the races, but with the new baby.....they'll take my place," Santi whispers, and Carlos swears his heart stops as Charles takes a deep breath, unsure how to answer.
"Santi...you're me...you're Mi Vida. I promise to keep doing this with you when the new baby comes. No one..will take that away from us." Carlos promises as Santi stares at his Papa and nods his head.
"Papa?" Santi asks, making Carlos hum as he pats Charles back, who stands up next to his teammate.
"Can I take a nap now?" Carlos laughs and leans over, picking up his son.
"Yeah, Santi. You can nap now." Santi nods and lays his head on his father's shoulder before his cheeks puff out, and he falls asleep.
"He's asleep on you, man," Charles whispers, but Carlos waves him off.
"Let me enjoy this, man. He's growing up. Oh, did I tell you that he's got a crush on Kika?" Carlos asks as Charles busts out laughing. The two Ferrari drivers talking as Carlos holds his little baby close, soaking in this moment.
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