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#and lance just likes to constantly show off
raapija · 3 days
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Apologies if you've gone over this already but I would like to know how you think Fernando and Lance would spend quality time with the older kids. I'm especially curious about what kind of activities Lance and Carlos would do together for a fun bonding experience
Ooohh, good one... 😍
With Carlos I think he'd go golfing a lot. Lance would be the only one to give him a proper challenge, since Lando would always end up just goofing around, Oscar will not touch a golf club with a ten foot stick and Fernando would just get pissed off when he's losing 😭 Carlos would never admit it, but he enjoys spending time with Lance and getting to hear all the newest gossip while there's no-one else around to bother them.
With Oscar, Lance would bundle up with him on the couch and watch tiktoks for 3 hours straight, giggling and crying at how dumb Oscar's fyp is. Lance would also take Oscar around for coffee etc. to get an update on the family because Oscar knows EVERYTHING that happens around here. He's like Lance's little spy that tells him about all the insane shit the others are doing 😭
Lando is a tricky one... I feel like him and Lance would probably play video games (with Lance losing horribly) and just hang out. They'd have their own inside jokes no-one else in the fam understands and laugh at the most stupid things. Lance really likes Lando's sarcasm and dry humour 🤧✌️
This turned into just Lance spending time with them, but yk, Fernando is hovering in the background 😭👍 Okay, no, we need Nando interaction with the kids also!!!
With Carlos, he'd go cycling and sightseeing around Oviedo, constantly telling the same stories about growing up there. Carlos would always listen and not interrupt, because his dad would get so excited to tell him 😭🫶
With Lando, I think Fernando likes to do more random stuff, whatever pops into their minds. Skydiving? Sure. Go wakeboarding? Sure. Break into Lance's wine cabinet and steal the most expensive bottle? Sure. They would never tell Lance what they're doing and he'd find out later from Oscar snitching them out and give them and earful 🤧
When it comes to Oscar, Fernando just enjoys every moment with him. He missed a lot of years with him being in Australia, so he tries to make up for the time now. Fernando tries his best not to show how sad it makes him when Oscar tells him about all the things he and Mark do, the things he missed out on. Now this became depressing, nooo 😭😭
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verstappen-cult · 4 months
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F1 GRID ★ MASTERLIST
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╰► CONTENT:
[ BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST ]
here you’ll find all of my works for: 16 - 4 - 81 - 33/1 - 23 - 47 - 3 - 2—in the form of scenarios/headcanons with the link to the respective work! masterlist constantly being updated.
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THE BOYS TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK
lando probably gets sick while taking care of you, charles tries to cook without burning the whole kitchen down, oscar reads to you until you fall asleep, max goes crazy, alex and daniel get angry and mick wants to cry.
SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS
lando goes up to santa at the mall, charles drives you around town and helps you decorate the tree, oscar and you wear ugly matching sweaters, max goes all out and might try making a gingerbread house, key word try. alex takes you to an ice rink only to bump into people, daniel and christmas in australia, mick and his pajama-photoshoot on christmas day.
ATTENDING THE ERAS TOUR WITH THE BOYS
lando wearing matching outfits with you, charles tries not to show how excited he is, oscar might like reputation a lot, max will buy the most expensive tickets, alex is definitely a swiftie thanks to you, daniel definitely cries during all too well and mick might do something during love story.
GETTING A NEW PET WITH THE BOYS
lando loves the cat more than you, charles and you adopting a little one after moving in, oscar surprising you, max and you definitely didn’t plan on adopting another cat, alex and the zoo you have at home, daniel almost crying and bringing home a guinea pig, mick and cuddling. with a dog.
JEALOUS BOYS
lando doesn’t want to know anything about the new guy you are seeing, charles is seconds away from killing your friend, oscar bottles everything up until you’re alone, max confesses something while drunk, alex doesn’t know he’s jealous, daniel ignores you and mick finds some courage.
THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE
lando defends you during one of his streams, charles makes a statement about what your relationship means to him, oscar posts a controversial tweet, again. max replies to every hate comment he sees, alex is obsessed with you and he shows it, daniel just needs a song, a phone and his guitar, and mick writes some beautiful poetry.
GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS
lando and you have a little bit of fun in his driver’s room, an innocent task turns heated between charles and you, being in oscar’s childhood bedroom makes you feel and do things, max can’t keep his hands off of you at the FIA gala, alex sneaks inside the changing room, daniel and you hide in the airplane bathroom, mick can’t get enough of you even at the club, you spend seven minutes in the closet with logan thanks to a dare and lance makes sure you’re alone in his parent’s house.
MAKEUP SHOPPING WITH THE BOYS
lando doesn’t really likes to go shopping but for you he’ll do anything, charles is always asking if you need anything when you go out shopping together, oscar will follow you anywhere, max would give you the world if he could, alex and you have a monthly date to go shopping, daniel likes spoiling you, mick knows your favorite brand, you don’t even have to ask him and logan doesn’t know anything but he’s willing to learn.
THE BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS
lando looks like he’s about to meet his death while charles is about to have a panic attack, oscar is a natural, max goes all out, alex doesn’t know what to do, daniel is your mom’s favorite, mick prepares with flashcards and logan is a mess.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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part one
———
Lance keeps his word — it doesn’t take long for him to really get the hang of his telepathy thing, and then he really is in Keith’s head more often than he isn’t.
That’s not entirely fair, Keith supposes. He has a pretty good hang of the telepathy thing too, and Lance showed him early on how to put up a pretty thick mental block if he needs some privacy, or even just a break. He knows how to keep his mindscape quiet and personal, if need be.
But the thing is…he rarely bothers.
He likes having Lance in his head, or vice versa. It’s crazy, and he never would have expected it of himself, but having the constant presence of his best friend in the back of his head; talking, humming, or just being, has turned into a massive comfort.
The desperate loneliness he grew up with, although slowly disappearing over the years he’s had Voltron, has faded into almost nothingness. He likes Lance’s noise in his head. It makes communication during battle a lot easier, too.
He’s yet to feel the rest of the team as strongly in his head — he certainly can’t hold conversations with anyone else — but he feels as if the connection that has been constantly present since they formed Voltron for the first time is stronger, maybe. As if he feels a little closer to all his friends.
That’s really mushy, Lance informs him in his mind. You’re a massive softie marshmallow. I can’t believe I ever thought you were cool.
Keith sits up, abandoning his fourth set of push-ups to find Lance across the training room, doing some sort of gymnastic routine (blatantly showing off for some of the younger members of the Atlas. He’s not even trying to pretend he isn’t, smirking whenever they point at him and whisper to each other in awe when he does a quadruple in-air backflip or something that serves no actual training purpose).
Keith frowns at him. I am so cool.
Are not. You’re a squishy softie marshmallow that cries during Finding Nemo.
Everyone cries during Nemo! Keith defends huffily. It’s a heart-wrenching movie!
Lance doesn’t say anything back, but Keith can feel the impression of his laughter. It’s a hard thing to conceptualise, because he’s not really laughing, and there’s no sound of laughter even in his mindscape, but Keith feels the teasing joy bleeding from him. The best way he’s come to describe it, after weeks of trying to put words to the feeling as he falls asleep, is the feeling he gets when a joke lands, combined with the kind of raw freedom that comes with running in a dead sprint for no reason other than the pleasure of running. Something concentrated and all-encompassing and heart-turning. That’s what Lance’s laughter feels like.
And Keith won’t stand for it. It’s one thing for Lance to tease him with his words, poking fun at him with his wide, sparkling grin, but to make fun of Keith for the thoughts he’s thinking in his own head?
He will not lie down at the dishonour.
Grinning in anticipation, he scoops up his luxite blade, lining up the shot and throwing with deadly accuracy. The blade spins through the air, so fast it whistles, directly at Lance’s head. If he doesn’t dodge, it will kill him.
But Lance will dodge. He knew Keith was going to throw the blade before he even made the decision to throw it.
Gasps ripple through the training room, several people shouting in alarm as the blade comes closer and closer to killing the Red Paladin of Voltron. Milliseconds before it hits, just as someone opens their mouth to scream a warning, Lance moves, faster than the eye can track, pulling out his bayard and transforming it in the same moment, batting Keith’s blade out of the air with his broadsword like it’s a baseball.
He grins, wide and manic and jumping to the challenge, to the spar.
“That all you got, Mullet?” he calls, swinging his blade like the cocky shithead he is. Keith can hear the impression of his laughter again; he’s dizzy with it, drunk off the heady feeling.
“Not even a little bit,” he says, activating his own bayard. Without needing to say a word, they both charge forward at the same time, arms drawn back and swords heavy with potential energy, meeting in the middle of the training room with a clash of their blades, so hard it sends vibrations up their arms.
The shouts of alarm from the rest of the crew turn into whoops of excitement, as people fan out into a circle to give them space. Keith is relatively certain he sees Pidge and Matt organizing bets out of the corner of his eye.
Ready for a show? Lance’s voice echoes in his head. Distantly, he hears Red’s howling roar, the proud lion wrapping her energy with her paladin, gleefully telling Keith how much she looks forward to seeing her cub wipe the floor with him.
She is a very competitive entity, Red. It sparks something in Black, too, who gets up from her perch in a rare display of headstrong pride and wraps her energy around Keith to match.
You’re going to lose, Keith taunts.
Fat chance, Mullet.
Their strikes are less choreographed, now that a real challenge has been issued, and more than their own pride is at stake. There is no real fight here — whether or not Keith wins, he doesn’t truly care.
(But he’d fuckin’ love having something to hold over Lance’s head for a bit. Better if he could be smug in Lance’s head, where he can’t stomp away with a sulk and a claim that Keith was cheating.)
Swordplay with Lance is difficult. It’s always difficult, because Lance uses a sword in every way except how a sword is meant to be used — Keith has seen him use it as a javelin, a bat, even a vault stick — but it’s only gotten harder since Lance has had access to his mind, because Lance hears and feels his every move, anticipating his every trick. Neither of them have managed to win the upper hand for long, and it won’t be long before the other resorts to dirty tactics.
Keith eyes his forgotten luxite blade. He might be the first, actually.
Forcing himself to think of a flurry of random things, practically throwing a wad of unconnected, unsorted thoughts in Lance’s presence in his head to distract him, he dives to the side, reaching for his blade. Lance realises a split second too late to stop him, and his broadsword comes millimetres away from the skin of Keith’s ribcage as he dodges. He closes his fingers around the softened leather of the blade’s handle, and whips around to face his opponent, bayard in his right hand and luxite blade in his left. By the time he’s ready again to fight, even though he’s only taken mere seconds to grab his weapon, Lance has already flipped several meters back, bayard in his hand transformed to his blaster.
Cheater, the both think at the same time, identical smirks on their faces.
Lance fires six quick shots, aiming at vital places in his body. His shots are all true — Lance doesn’t miss — and Keith barely manages to slide out of the way, one of the laser blasts grazing the side of his neck, burning him.
Lance hasn’t bothered to set his gun to stun. Keith can’t blame him. It’s more fun with the risk.
He rushes at Lance, both swords extended, aiming a slash at the Cuban’s arm with one blade and a stab through his torso with the other — he’ll only be able to dodge one. He’ll either have to yield or take a slice, get a painful hit that will slow him down.
Somehow, though, Lance contorts himself, bending his body in a way that it honestly should not be able to bend and narrowly avoiding both blades, hitting the floor with a heavy slam and aiming a sweeping kick for Keith’s knees to take him down with him. Keith jumps to avoid his powerful legs, somersaulting over his head.
“Oh, boo!” someone, who is most definitely Shiro, calls from the crew. Keith almost forgot they were watching, he’s so caught up in the fight. “Come on, Lance! Get his ass!”
If Keith had the time — that is if Lance let up his assault for even one second, which Keith knows he won’t — he’d roll his eyes. Since he doesn’t, he settles for making a mental note to raid Shiro’s room later and steal the last of the Reese’s he packed from Earth.
Oh, that’s diabolical, Lance thinks at him.
Keith grunts, swiping at the hand holding his blaster. If you help me I’ll give you half.
The offer startles a laugh out of Lance, distracting him for just long enough that Keith gains the split-second advantage, placing the blade of his bayard under Lance’s wrist and twisting until Lance is forced to drop his gun or lose his hand.
“Fuck!” several people yell at the same time. Next comes the unmistakable sound of money changing hands.
“Sucks to suck”, Keith taunts, because he can’t help himself.
But Lance looks undeterred. “It does, doesn’t it.” He aims a heavy kick right for Keith’s sternum, and since Keith is too close to move away and not flexible enough to dodge, it lands square where Lance aims it, the heel of his foot knocking the breath from Keith’s lungs and blurring his vision. He drops his swords when the sudden lack of oxygen makes his hands to weak to grip them.
Lance takes advantage of Keith’s momentary weakness, catapulting forward for an assault. Unfortunately for him, his intentions bleed loud and clear through their bond, and Keith hits the floor with a gasp so Lance can’t wrap his legs around Keith’s neck to choke him out.
Lance curses, falling forward with a flail when his assault doesn’t hit, momentum completely overshot. He barely manages to catch himself before his head smacks into Keith’s, and for half a second he stays there, hovering above where Keith lays flat and tense, ready for the next move.
You come here often? Lance teases, and it’s genuinely such a horrible line that Keith groans out loud. They tussle on the ground for several moments, each trying to gain the upper hand, but it’s literally impossible — neither of them is particularly stronger than the other, so there’s no advantage there, and not only are they completely matched, stroke for stroke, punch for punch, but every move they try is completely anticipated by the other. There’s no way that Keith can win. He can try to spend the next who knows how long exhausting Lance, but they’ve already been training for a while — they’re both tired as all hell. And as much as Keith kind of likes Lance’s hands on him, he can’t forget that there are people watching. He has a reputation.
Truce? he offers.
Yeah, Lance concedes, sighing melodramatically. I suppose I’ll let you call a draw.
Keith rolls his eyes as hard as he can — leave it to Lance to be such a goober about it, even though Keith can literally feel that he wants to call it as much as Keith does.
At the exact same time, they spring apart, setting some space in between them to catch their breaths. Once they’ve had a minute to recover, Lance stands, stepping over to Keith and offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up.
All the gathered crew groans out loud.
“Another draw?” one of the MFE pilots mutters.
“At least they’re wicked cool to watch,” her friend says.
Keith would be able to feel how much Lance preens at that even if they werent telekinetically bonded.
In minutes most of the crew has dispersed, no longer interested now that there isn’t a fight to watch. Some of them go back to whatever equipment they were training on earlier, but many of them file out of the training room entirely, moving onto other things. Keith and Lance make their way over to the rest of the team, collapsing down to the floor next to them.
“You guys are super duper lame,” Pidge informs them, offering them both a water pouch. Keith takes his gratefully, not bothering with the straw and tearing off the top, chugging them whole thing down in one go. Allura looks at him in mild disgust, which makes Keith grin, because if he’s being entirely, one hundred percent honest, he really only did that to get a rise out of her because he knows she hates it when he does that.
“You’re a liar,” Lance responds, sipping on his juice pouch much slower than Keith does. “We just provided you with what was essentially a full-stakes WWE fight, except Keith and I are both way cooler than any of those losers and there were weapons involved.”
“Weapons, but no drama,” Hunk argues. “You guys barely even spoke to each other. Just fight, fight, fight. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the nuance?”
“I didn’t hear you clown Keith even one time,” Shiro adds, because he’s safely out of range of Keith’s pinching fingers. “Two out of ten Keith and Lance fight. I’m disappointed.”
Keith snorts. “Oh, he clowned me plenty.”
The second the words exit his mouth, he feels Lance go rigid beside him, and a sense of panic comes through their bond.
Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Lance tells him desperately.
Keith looks at him strangely, but Lance doesn’t provide any more context, looking at a particular spot on the floor as if it’s endlessly fascinating.
“He did?” Coran asks. He looks at Keith with a mix of intrigue and something he can’t place, something almost knowing. “I heard nothing of the sort.”
“Well, you wouldn’t hear it, per se,” Keith says slowly.
Lance screams unintelligibly in his head. Keith gets a distinctive picture of him in his own mindscape, yelling in anguish, as the Red Lion laughs herself to tears beside him.
What is your problem? Keith tries to ask, but mind-Lance ignores him in favour of his misery.
Pidge narrows her eyes at the two of them. “Clarify yourself immediately.”
“The mind bond?” Keith says, voice turning up at the end of the sentence like it’s a question. “You know, that Lance worked on with Red. So that we could communicate with each other using our existing emotional bonds with Voltron, just a couple steps farther. I know you guys haven’t used it much, but I just figured you weren’t into it.”
Silence.
Heavy, disbelieving silence. Each other member of the team looks at Keith with dropped jaws and wide eyes, like what Keith just said is something out of a science fiction novel rather than something they all should have been able to do for weeks, since that meeting with Iverson.
Keith suddenly gets the very distinct feeling that he has, perhaps, fucked up.
“Yeah, no shit,” Lance says, a little hysterically. His face is so red that he rivals his own lion. Keith can actually feel the heat pouring off of him, and the feeling from the bond is worse — Lance is dripping with mortification. “How am I in your fucking head and you still can’t follow my instructions?!”
“You didn’t tell me it was supposed to be a secret!” Keith defends, rapidly going red himself.
He can scarcely believe what is happening right now. Lance has told him that the point of the bond was to make the whole team get closer, but he’d only ever bothered to build something with Keith.
The whole time, from the very beginning, his goal was to share his deepest thoughts and feelings with Keith, no one else.
Oh, God.
“Oh, God,” Shiro repeats, but his tone is vastly different from the way Keith was thinking it. His expression can only be described as evilly and maniacally delighted, like every horrible hope of his has come true at once. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Oh my God,” Lance says, the third person to say it. His face is buried in his hands, body half-curled up, like if he compresses himself small enough he can disappear into nothing.
“So that’s why it’s like you two share one half a braincell!” Hunk exclaims. “You actually do!”
Pidge and Allura crack up at Hunk’s joke, or maybe it’s Lance they’re laughing at. Either way, Keith feels his head spin.
Lance has literally manipulated the quintessence of Voltron specifically and only so he can talk to Keith in his own brain, communicate the emotions he doesn’t have the words for.
Manipulated. The quintessence of the universe’s greatest and most mysterious weapon. To find more ways to talk to Keith.
Keith is generally kind of a dense person, but he’s sure as shit not that dense.
“Hey,” he says, shifting away from the rest of his team that has rapidly lost their minds and is laughing themselves hoarse, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Look at me.”
I am going to kill you dead, Lance threatens in his mind, too embarrassed to make his mouth work.
No, you’re not, Keith replies, and pulls Lance’s hands away from his face, yanking him close and finally pressing their lips together, no longer waiting for some obscure and future proof that Lance loves him. It’s obvious, with the way he softens, melts into Keith’s hands, and the way something warm and soft and floaty flows through their bond.
Lance changed reality for him.
His love could not be more clear.
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nico-di-genova · 1 month
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just so you know, you posting lance is making me fond (fonder?) towards him <3
Proof he should hire me onto his PR team 😌
But yay, I’m so glad!! I feel like he definitely got the “mad max” dts treatment, when in reality he’s just a guy who’s passionate about racing and not one to show his emotions publicly. His old interviews vs his newer ones really show how shut off he’s become and I can imagine it’s because he’s just fed up with constantly being labeled a pay driver and ignored for his talent.
But there’s such a genuine vibe to how he carries himself. If he’s annoyed, you’re gonna know. If he’s happy, you’re gonna know. I love that about him, tbh, the honesty is refreshing in a sport where niceties and facades are frequently deployed.
Anyway, he 🥰
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magnummagnussen · 1 year
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dating lance stroll would include...
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a/n: i got a request for lance fluff a while ago and it's been on my mind lately, please enjoy my brain rot <3
pairing: lance stroll x fem! reader
warnings: fluff!
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first of all, he definitely has the best sweater collection so stealing some of those is priority number one it's freezing in canada pls send some
because they smell like him and not just his cologne
constantly making dumb little facial expressions and voices just to make you laugh (like the clip in his ig video where he says "they're moving, it's a start")
he just wants to be near you
like you'll be reading or doing something on your computer and he will sit/lay next to you doing something else
maybe some little glances and smiles? a head on a shoulder perhaps?
the type to always make sure you have everything you need but also treat you in everyday ways (flowers, ordering food/going out, little trips away to relax)
we know that man is rich but he doesn't want to show it off
he is absolutely the sleepiest boy and if you try to get up before him he'll just hold you tighter
when you do get time off, escaping to a cottage or something (alone or with some friends) and fully disconnecting from the world
hikes, biking (maybe not anymore), campfires
for some reason, i have the thought about just dancing in the living room while listening to music
dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light
if you're going to events, he is not only with you all night but he is touching you all night to keep himself (and you) grounded
that man is anxious so he needs a little extra support at social events <3
he's not super into pda but hand-holding, little pecks, and an occasional longing gaze is perfect
because in private? that man is handsy
wrapping his hands around your waist while you're getting ready, touching your legs when you're both on the couch, having casual makeout sessions on the kitchen island, etc.
little ice skating dates!!
i cannot skate for shit but i'm living for this idea
the absolutely garbage hot chocolate at free skates, slowly gliding across the ice while everyone else just laps you, picking you up if when you fall
in conclusion: i need a lance stroll
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victimsofyaoipoll · 9 months
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Round 2
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Propaganda Under Cut
Allura
Lots of people (myself included tbh) ship klance (Keith and Lance). In s8 the creators made Allura/Lance canon (but then they killed her off and left the ending ambiguous it was weird). Anyway the fandom treats her like she's the most terrible bitchy woman ever but all she wants to do is end the war and avenge her destroyed home planet. Yeah she wasn't always the nicest or always the best, but you could argue some other characters in the show aren't either and they aren't treated near as bad as allura. people really just hate her bc Lance liked her. I don't think allura/lance are good together, but I still liked her as a character and thought she was interesting and had a lot of growth during the show. she DEF is not evil like some people portray her as in fic or talk about her in captions on posts. I've seen people say that they HATE her and that she's the worst and I'm like ??? let her live (well sort of ig she is dead now). lots of fic writers use her as the villain which is so interesting to me bc the show literally has villains like use them. anyway allura so perfectly fits the bracket description she deserves better.
I hate to acknowledge my time in this fandom but I hate the way the fandom treated her more. Allura was treated like shit no matter what side of the Great Ship War you were on because she was always a threat to the biggest ships (klance and sheith). At best she got put into Background Lesbian or Consolation Prize Shallura (Space Mom-zoned) (She was not a motherly figure btw. She was just Black). At worst she was violently demonized for being ~racist~ (kinda not cool with the alien race that blew up her planet for a few episodes), complete with misogynistic language hurled at her (she got called a bitch sooo much). Allura was a good and cool character and the show did her dirty but the fandom was somehow worse.
i apologise for speaking the dark magicks, but amidst the voltron fandoms many, many transgressions, there were a particular subset of people who just hated this girl. the infamous klance wars of the 2010s kept this perfectly fine childrens cartoon character in the sights of shippers everywhere, and she (and her voice actress im sure) were subjected to years of petty squabble blown up to global perportions. ive seen hate, ive seen rants, ive seen fanfics that made her homophobic. girls been through the ringer, and even though voltron was never the show its fandom wanted it to be, i believe allura deserved better
Mary Morstan
a controversial one i know, but it’s tumblr. how could i not? anyway shoutout to the writers for CANONICALLY killing her off for the non-canon ship. she was so cool honestly poor girl
Oh god where do I start? Constantly being turned abusive? Killed off (in canon!)? Constantly being removed from fic? I cannot stand the way she's treated, but it's 100% impossible to find Johnlock fic without the "umsympathetic Mary Morstan" angle. It's infuriating!
The fandom insulted Mary at every conceivable turn, refused to acknowledge her narrative importance or impact on the other characters, called for her death repeatedly, and even SENT DEATH THREATS TO HER ACTRESS because she had the AUDACITY to be a morally gray female character who was married to John (they did not care about the moral grayness of the male characters, but she was irredeemable, apparently-presumably because she was a "threat" to the main fandom ship). And though she was definitely sacrificed on a SPECIFIC mlm ship altar, she was still tangentially victimized by OTHER mlm ships too! For example, this fandom was willing to make up a character WHO LITERALLY DID NOT ACTUALLY EXIST to ship with different male character (who was morally...way worse than she ever was), as well as create swathes of content about two men who had maybe one canon interaction in the whole show, before even thinking about the possibility of making content for this character or even just talking about her in a way that wasn't overtly misogynistic and degrading. When Mary died in-story (in what, in my opinion, was an unnecessary, bullshit way), her death was, to this fanbase, not actually about her and was just seen as "proof" that the two male leads would now get together (they didn't). And this STILL continues to this day. People reduce her to "selfish bitch," completely ignoring any of her complexity by claiming that she's incapable of caring about anyone (despite helping to save lives on more than one occasion, as well as dying in an act of sacrifice) and insisting that any of her positive qualities MUST be completely fabricated. I've seen a lot of female characters get mistreated by fandom for a mlm ship's sake, but I don't think I've EVER encountered an example as bad as this one.
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anonymouszephyrus · 3 months
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Voltron Characters Headcanons, go!
FINALLY! I HAVE.. too many..
Let's start with the original Red & Blue duo:
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KEITH (Aka. He isn't emo, just unique)
- Demisexual Homoromantic (Yes.) - He/Him Pronouns - Full Name Headcanon: Keith's full name is “Keith Akira Kogane” and other languages. However, I like to think that Keith's father (whom I've named: Hyeong-Min, Hyeon by itself means “Virtuous or Worthy” and Min means “Sharp-minded” which I think fits someone who is Keith's dad.) His surname in Japan is Kogane, yes. But in Korea, it would be Kim. As both Kim and Kogane mean “Gold” in Korean and Japanese. This does mean that Keith has a Korean name along with his usual one. I'm choosing to go along with the idea that when Hyeong-min's parents left Korea and moved to Texas, they gave him a Korean name but when Hyeong-min and Krolia had Keith, they chose to gave him multiple names depending where he was. TLDR; (Japanese - Akira Kogane; Korean - Ki-Joo or Ki-Joon Kim/Kogane; Common - Keith Akira Kogane.) - Absolute Literature nerd (He spent a shit long time in that cabin. There's no way Adam or Shiro hadn't found him before and given him books or something to occupy himself.) - I love having him as Japanese-Korean + Half-Galra but he was raised in Texas so he's forgotten a lot of his Korean since no one was there to continuously talk to him in the language like his dad did. Shiro talks Japanese with him so that one is still fine. Keith's been trying to relearn Korean but it's hard since he gets sad (and mad) when thinking about his dad. - He wears eyeliner. Shiro taught him to. - He wears too many rings. And whenever he has to wash his hands, he takes them off, and Lance practically faints every time Keith flexes his hands to ensure his rings are in place. - Despite being touch-repulsed, Keith is so fucking touch-starved it's unreal. - Keith only calls Shiro “Takashi” when he's mad or sad. No in-between. One time he did it was when he was younger, Shiro beat him in Mario Kart and he got so mad, he screamed: "I'm disowning myself from you, Takashi!" and Shiro almost cried. - Keith's Galra side only comes out when he's focused, mad, or extremely flustered about something. Lance teased him to no end one time and his skin started turning purple. - After Allura and Keith had their talk, Allura's been trying to make his little Galra situation better. If she sees him slowly turning purple and becoming anxious about it, she'll turn purple too for the remainder of his ordeal. (And then it becomes a “who wears purple the best”) - Keith loves music, he likes to play the keyboard or piano at times, only problem is that he's a bit tone-deaf (which is surprising considering he actually is pretty good at playing those instruments.) - He is lactose-intolerant, only that he doesn't give a shit and does continuously eat or drink dairy products, it doesn't make him sick though because of his Galra genes... but he does, quite literally, destroy the bathroom.
LANCE (Aka. Too many sad shit)
- Bisexual Disaster (with a hint of internalized homophobia) - He/Him Pronouns - Full Name Headcanon: His real name is Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain, shortened to Lance McClain. Just like @autisticlancemcclain's headcanon, I love it a lot. (Sorry for the ping, if it did) - All his siblings have acronym names along with their mother. Mervin, headcanon McClain papa's name, is the only one without one. - Lance has central heterochromia, meaning the inner ring of his eyes are brown whilst the rest is blue. Kinda like this:
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(This is a picture I got off Google, please don't sue me. And yes, I know it's more orange than brown but I couldn't find a good enough reference to show you all, basically it's just like that except the middle is much darker) - He's constantly terrified he'll forget things from Earth. Like his sense of time, the way colors are, the way the light moves, the moon changing every night, everything. Not just because of you know, Voltron and stuff, but because he has memory issues too. - He accidentally forgot the name of his niece and nephew one time and panicked afterward as he scrambled to think of what they were. Now, he has little notes in his pocket that holds all his family members' names. - Lance is a prodigy at playing music, specifically guitars but he doesn't think he's good after the last time he played in a competition, he got absolutely destroyed and insulted by one of the other sour competitors that he never tried to play a guitar again because everytime he tries to, that memory keeps coming back and it's one of the many reasons he has such low self-esteem. - He thought he was sick the first time he had a crush on a guy from the first week of being in the Garrison (it was Keith) and rang up his mother only to be politely told that he wasn't sick. - Lance often tries to write little poems for Keith because he knows how much he likes literature only to throw it allow or out the airlock when he thinks it isn't good enough. It leads to the first poem Keith received from him being the most romantic and elegantly made poem he's ever read... (and he only got it because Lance forgot where he left it when he was planning on throwing it away again) - Despite being a flirt, Lance cannot handle being flirted with. Keith is surprisingly smooth with his comebacks (it's only when he doesn't try). - Keith sometimes accidentally (or purposefully, depending on the situation) initiates physical affection and it flusters Lance to no end. - He prefers wearing gold because Keith told him one time that it suited him. Aka: Keith's opinion of anything Lance wears is what he sticks to as a fashion choice.
I've got more for the other characters! Stay tune for those. Next up: Pidge & Hunk, the lil' nerd duo!
PART: 2 & 3
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writeforfandoms · 9 months
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Warrior Song 8
Find the series masterlist
Again: playing fast and loose with canon. Noteably with AIs and how they operate or don’t operate over distances. Also, I am not a medical professional, so y’know. Keep that in mind.
We hit our first major road bump since the fall of the Infinity. 
Warnings: violence, blood, questionable medical advice, swearing, some lack of self-value, Feelings, sweetness at the end. 
Word count: 2.7k
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The next few days were quiet. Eventually, you had gone back to the Pelican, Fernando had apologized, and the lot of you had gone on your way to the next clue. 
Nobody brought up the cuddle pollen again. 
“Anything new?” you asked Joy idly. The AI had connected to your tablet to help keep track of things in multiple places at once, so you’d taken her along with you to gather up water. The stream you’d tested was clear and drinkable, so you were busy refilling water bottles and big containers to haul back to the Pelican. 
“Not yet,” Joy said, using the speakers on your tablet. “So far this place is pretty quiet!”
“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” you drawled. 
“Wait.” Joy was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll update you later.” And she was gone, attention pulled to whatever was going on with Blue Team. 
Unease churned in your gut, but you figured she’d let you know if there was anything you could do to help. So you just finished up with your task, taking the refilled water bottles back to the Pelican before you and Fernando team lifted the water tanks. 
“We’ll have to head back to base soon,” Fernando puffed as you two shoved a water tank back onto the ship. “Getting low on fuel.”
“I’m surprised it took this long,” you agreed with a little huff. “I feel like we must have traversed half the ring by now.”
“Not quite,” Fernando said, shoving the tank back into place. “But close. And still no closer to having answers.”
You hummed, taking a seat. “Well, either they’ll find answers, or there aren’t answers to find anymore.” You shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the part of the ring that got blown up, or whatever, is the part that had the answers. Maybe they don’t exist anymore.” 
“Would be nice if that’s that easy.” Fernando sighed. “Never seems to be, though.”
You hummed, tipping your head back against the wall of the Pelican. “Hopefully we’ll get some news soon. All of this is more boring than I thought it would be.”
“That’s because you missed all the fireworks,” Fernando said, sinking down into the seat next to yours. “That first week was…”
“A lot?” you suggested gently. 
“That’s one way to put it.” Fernando sighed. “Come on, one more tank to move. Let’s get it done.”
“Alright, alright.” You stood again and stretched your arms up over your head. Then you followed Fernando outside and got to work. 
You didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything. One minute you were helping carry the tank of water, the next there was a boom and your leg collapsed out from under you. Fernando yelled, scrambling for his gun, and you blinked stupidly for a moment. 
And then the chittering of Jackals caught your attention, and you decided now would be a good time to move. Only your leg wouldn’t support your weight, and you crumpled with a shout. 
Fernando fired off two quick shots, kneeling next to you. “Can you move?” he asked, keeping his weapon raised and trained on where you assumed the Jackals had been. 
“No.” You clenched your jaw tight, pain lancing up your leg as you tried to move. A quick look showed blood. A lot of blood. A through and through shot, maybe. 
“Okay. This is gonna suck.” Fernando took one hand off his gun to haul your arm up and over his shoulders. And then he stood, dragging you with him. For a moment, the pain was so intense you feared you’d scream or black out, but you did neither. Just breathed harshly through your teeth and tried your best to keep your weight off the injured leg. 
Fernando fired again twice more, swearing near constantly under his breath. “Almost there,” he huffed. 
Your eyelids fluttered, attention fractured between the agony in your leg and the boom of shots being exchanged across the new battlefield. 
“Almost there,” Fernando muttered again. Two more shots - one from the other side, one from him. And then the two of you stumbled into the interior of the Pelican and he slammed the button to close the ramp. 
You fell to the floor with a high whine, panting through the pain. Logically, you knew this was bad. It certainly felt bad. 
“Joy, I need help here!” Fernando hit the floor next to you, hands hovering over you. “Oh shit. That’s a lot of blood.” 
“Press down,” you wheezed, pushing up on your hands to sit up. “Need the rags.” 
“You need biofoam,” Fernando objected, shaking his head, eyes wide. 
“No.” The vehemence in your own voice surprised you. “Save it. Only have two.” You took a deep breath, fighting through the pain and the shock.  You’d never been shot before. It hurt, a lot more than you thought. “Medical crate.” 
Fernando grabbed the crate and dragged it over, throwing the lid somewhere. He grabbed one of the biofoam canisters and you slapped his hand away. 
“Not for me,” you insisted, shaking. “Rags, under the exit wound. On top. Press hard.” 
“You need–”
“Listen to me.” You grabbed his hand with your blood-slicked one, holding hard. “Stop the bleeding. No biofoam. Not for me. Too precious.” 
“Joy, where the hell is my backup?” Fernando yelled, freeing his hand to put the biofoam injector down and grab bandages. He packed a few under your thigh, under the exit wound, and you keened when he had to move you. 
“On their way back,” Joy finally answered, sounding about as stressed as you had ever heard. 
“Press hard,” you reminded Fernando, taking several fast breaths. He pressed hard and you stuffed your wrist into your mouth to muffle your shriek. 
“This is not good,” Joy said. “You’re losing blood fast.”
“Just let me use the biofoam,” Fernando practically begged, though he didn’t let up on the pressure. 
“Steady pressure,” you reiterated. “It will stop.” You laid back, starting to feel woozy. “I haven’t bled out yet. Probably not an artery.”
“You are insane,” Fernando snapped. “Fucking insane.” But his hands didn’t let up at all. “Can’t I use some of that powder stuff?”
You shook your head, clenching your hands into fists. “Too deep,” you murmured. “Won’t help. Pressure.”
“Yes, keep pressure, stop the bleeding, I got it.” Fernando was sounding even more freaked out though. “You’re not passing out, are you?”
“Not yet.” You hissed out a breath as he leaned harder on your thigh. “You’re doing great.” 
“Do not tell me I’m doing great while you’re refusing the best treatment, you–” He broke off to swear in Spanish. 
“It’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. “We’ll worry about stitches later.”
“Stitches?!” His voice climbed at least an octave on the word. 
“You’ll do great.” You opened your eyes again, feeling a little blurry. “We can risk some of the… the tea.”
“What’s the risk?” Fernando didn’t move yet, watching you like a hawk.
“Need to stay awake,” you mumbled. “Just hand me one.”
He hissed out another slew of curses but shifted his weight to one hand, pressing down hard enough that you whined. His free hand grabbed a vial of the tea and handed it to you, blood smeared all over the vial. It was a struggle to sit up enough to drink some and not just slosh it all over yourself, but you managed. 
More shots fired outside caught both your attention and Fernando scrambled for the gun. 
“It’s Blue Team,” Joy was quick to say as the ramp started to lower. “I’m letting them in.”
“Thank fuck.” Fernando dropped the gun again, refocusing on you. 
Chief was the first one in, dropping to his knees next to you. “Status,” he demanded.
“Through and through shot,” you gasped, hands curling weakly. “Didn’t hit an artery, would’ve bled out already. Fernando is doing a great job applying pressure. Next is…” You licked your lips and drew in a deep breath. “Next is stitches.” 
“Use the biofoam.”
“Don’t you dare.” You lifted your head to glare at John. “We only have two.”
“Base has more.” He grabbed one of the canisters. 
“We can’t make more of those,” you argued, trying to push up onto your hands to argue. Kelly knelt behind you, firm hands on your shoulders keeping you down. “They’re valuable.”
“So are you.” John moved Fernando’s hands and injected the biofoam into the wound. You slammed a fist into the floor, both from the pain and frustration. 
“John–” you started before your leg twitched reflexively and you sort of whited out, a little. 
“Isn’t that stuff supposed to be numbing?” Fernando asked anxiously, still hovering next to you. 
“It takes a minute,” Kelly said, voice cool and calm. “The bleeding is already slowing.” 
“They were using an MA40,” Fred reported as he and Linda clomped up the ramp onto the Pelican. “A few stragglers.”
“So just shitty luck,” you wheezed, trying to focus on anything but how much your leg hurt, which really only emphasized how much your leg hurt. 
“We’re going back to base.” John dropped the empty canister to the side and started clearing away the bloody rags. You lifted your head to watch and swallowed. That was a lot of blood that was outside your body. 
“Fluids,” you muttered, almost by rote. “And rest.”
“An excellent prescription,” Kelly agreed smoothly. “One that perhaps you’ll follow.”
“She will.” Fernando scowled at you, although you could see the fear behind the anger. 
You waved a hand limply and let your head thunk back against the floor. “Fine. Couple days off it should be enough.” 
A big hand caught one of yours, holding you gently, like you were delicate. To a Spartan, you kind of were, actually. A quiet conversation took place over your head about moving you to a seat versus leaving you on the floor. You voted for just staying on the floor. 
Apparently someone was still listening to your muttering, because John sat behind you to brace you, letting you lean back against his chest while Linda brought you water. Fernando stood outside long enough to wash off his hands before he stomped into the cockpit and shut the doors. 
You did feel a bit bad about that. 
As the adrenaline wore off and the biofoam did its job, you found yourself leaning harder back against John. He was the only thing keeping you upright, really. 
“We will have a talk about this,” he rumbled in your ear, and, oh, that was his normal voice. Unmodulated. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. You managed to look in his direction, blinking slowly. He was stubbly, just a little. Idly, you wondered how that would feel under your hands. 
“We will?” You finally got your mouth connected to your brain again. 
“Yes.” His jaw clenched for a moment, and you watched the play of muscles under his stubble with absolute fascination. “When you’re lucid.”
“‘M lucid.” You blinked again sluggishly. It was work to peel your eyes back open. 
“Rest for now.” One hand landed on your hip, helping to anchor you in place as the engines whirred to life and the Pelican lifted off.
You grumbled a little. Time blurred. It took much too long between blinks. You felt the Pelican in motion, then landing. Then the clamor of voices, hard armor under you, sudden pain in your thigh as you were lifted. 
Then dim lights and something more or less soft under you. You slowly pushed yourself upright, hissing softly at the residual ache in your thigh. 
“You should be laying down.” 
You blinked at John, wondering briefly how you’d missed him. He was a hulking mass in the corner, dressed down in a slightly too tight shirt and pants. “What time ‘s’it?” 
“0200, approximately.” He shrugged. 
“Why are you still up.” You lifted one hand to rub your eyes, wrinkling your nose at how dry you still felt. 
John was quiet for a few long moments, long enough that you refocused on him. “I needed to keep watch.” 
You almost very stupidly blurted out that you were in camp, why would he need to keep watch? Then you realized. He meant you. Keep watch over you. It was his way of admitting he’d stayed up to make sure you were okay. 
Warmth bloomed in your chest and you smiled, despite yourself. “I’m not dying,” you murmured. 
“Not tonight.” His lips pressed together, briefly distracting you. “You could have.” 
You sighed. “It was a logical choice,” you murmured, shifting your weight very carefully on the bed and letting your hands fall to your lap. “Biofoam is not something we can manufacture or replace here, whereas rags and pain tea are readily available.”
“It’s not the call you would have made if one of us was shot. If Fernando was shot.” 
You hesitated, because you knew he was right. If Fernando had been shot, or John or the others… You would have used the biofoam. Without question. You sighed, shoulders drooping, sinking in on yourself. “You’re right.”
“So why?” He finally stepped closer, his arms dropping to his sides. 
You frowned, struggling with the words for several long moments before you sighed. “You’re critical,” you finally admitted, gaze down. “Fernando is your pilot, you need him. Blue Team are all irreplaceable.” You swallowed hard. “I’m just a medic.” 
“And that makes you more replaceable.” He knelt slowly next to the bed so he could catch your gaze.
“Yes.” You closed your eyes, breathing slowly. “I’ve made some hard calls since we’ve all been stuck here. Sometimes that means someone dies. Sometimes it means just a lot of pain and a slower recovery.” You finally looked at him, throat tight. “I’d rather have the supplies for you, in case you need them. Any of you.” 
John was quiet for several long moments, giving you time to calm down again. “Your reasoning is flawed,” is what he finally said.
“What?” You blinked at him, running through your argument in your mind again. 
“You’re critical, as well.” He leaned in slowly, carefully, only getting close without touching, until he was mostly all you could see. “You’re not just a medic. You’re not replaceable.” 
“John?” You licked your lips, eyes wide, focused entirely on him. 
“I’m not good at this,” he muttered. One hand very slowly closed over yours, sending your pulse racing somehow even faster. 
“Neither am I,” you admitted, barely even daring to breathe. “Don’t tease me. What do you mean?” 
John blew out a slow breath, the only outward sign of his nerves. “You are… special. To me.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours. “I would like to… have more. With you.”
“Like a relationship?” You couldn’t keep the hope out of your voice if someone had paid you. 
“Yes.” He swallowed, holding very still. Waiting for you to decide. 
“I would very much like that.” You smiled, shy and pleased and overwhelmed. “Can I kiss you, John?” 
He considered the question for a moment before he nodded, just slightly. “Yes, ma’am.” 
You freed one hand to cup his jaw - his stubble was a delightful little rasp under your fingers, and you smiled. Slowly, giving him a chance to stop you or pull away, you leaned in, until you could press your lips to his in a chaste kiss.
Your eyes fluttered open again to find the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “How was that?” you asked softly, unwilling to risk this new thing between you.
“Acceptable.” He paused. “Further research will need to be conducted.”
“Of course.” You tamped down on your own grin… mostly. More or less. It was entirely gone when he took the initiative to kiss you again. 
You could have quite happily gotten distracted with kissing him for the rest of the night, except that pain flared in your thigh, reminding you that yes you had gotten shot a matter of hours ago. At your grimace, John frowned a little and started pushing you back to lay down. 
“You need more rest.”
“So do you,” you muttered. “Please get some sleep tonight.”
“I will.” John leaned down to press a very careful kiss to your forehead. “Good night.” 
“Night.” You watched with your heart in your eyes as John rose, as fluidly as if aging wasn’t a thing that existed to him, and left the room. 
Your dreams were surprisingly pleasant, for once.
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f1 drivers + love languages .ೃ࿐
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i'm bored and thought about what the drivers love languages might be. so here's my study, based on my very little knowledge of the drivers and my biases. enjoy.
i'm doing class of 2022, just bc im attached but also i have yet to observe/have better opinions of logan, oscar & nico
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max verstappen - quality time/physical touch
he spends a lot of his off time with the people he loves (as do all of them, but i feel like he does a little more). and based on interactions with kelly and other drivers on the paddock, he's also not afraid to share a tender touch.
checo perez - physical touch
this man just needs touch. clearly. he cheated on his wife.... he's constantly touch starved.
charles leclerc - words of affirmation
he always seems to have nice things to say about most people, always appreciating others' accomplishments and victories. and his face when people praise him? i feel like that's love language he appreciates and best reciprocates. i nearly added physical touch, but i think this one suits him more.
carlos sainz - physical touch/quality time
do you see how he manhandles lando/charles? he loves touching. i think with romantic partners, it's always on the low bc thats how intimate that type of love is for him. but also, quality time because he does spend so much time with loved ones doing their interests and bringing them along to his.
lewis hamilton - gifts/words of affirmation
i just think that lewis loves to spoil the ones he loves. whether with physical items or experiences, he loves to bring the ones he loves along for the ride. also he has such a kind heart, i think that he'd also show love with praise
george russell - acts of service
thinking of the 12 grapes in the club for carmen. he appreciates a partner's culture + who they are as a person, and i think he will go above and beyond for them to help them embrace themselves. he gives very much, 'sleep in, i'll take the dog out for a walk' or a breakfast in bed kind of guy.
esteban ocon - gifts/acts of service.
i wrestled with this one for a bit, but when i look at esteban i think of a very giving person. i think that he's the kind of person to see something that reminds him of a person he loves and buy it for that reason. he also seems like the type to try to do things to make life easier for the ones he loves.
fernando alonso - physical touch
he's such a "hands on you" kinda person. holding hands, hand on your back, hand on your thigh? he just seems like that kind of person you know?
daniel ricciardo - quality time
he goes dark when he has time off, and likes immersing himself with the people he's with. as loud as he is, i think daniel loves all the quiet moments with his favorite people.
lando norris - gifts/quality time
again, more so for the intangible experiences than tangible items. i think lando would drop coin to bring the people he loves along for the experience. he gives 'let me buy your plane ticket and come join me'
valterri bottas - quality time
based on his relationship with tiffany, valterri is such a quality time kinda guy. 'let's do what you like and then we'll try what i like' type beat. he just wants to spend as much time with his loved ones, doing very 'mundane' things.
zhou guanyu - acts of service
i'm thinking of a cultural standpoint, so this is slightly more biased than most. i think asian culture is all about giving back and being able to help the ones you love make your life easier. like zhou is the type of person (to me) who would fill up your gas tank just because. you know?
lance stroll - physical touch
he's also such a touchy guy. hand holding, legs over his legs, subtle kisses to your temple. he shows love with very simple and sly touches. like i picture him sitting at the dinner table with friends and then he'd have his arm over your chair, fingers twirling your hair subtly.
sebastian vettel - quality time/acts of service
please. everything about him screams this. i feel like i don't have to explain, you can just look at sebastian and know what i mean.
kevin magnussen - acts of service
he's a father, and i just think he's the kind of guy to try and take as much stress and pressure off his wife when he can. so he will do what he can to make home life easier.
mick schumacher - acts of service/quality time
he very much gives 'hey baby, i bought groceries' or 'i made lunch!' energy. and also, he just loves quiet time with people he loves. he wants to really spend time with loved ones. like turn off his phone and spend time kind of vibes.
pierre gasly - gifts
similar to lando in terms of dropping money to bring partner/loved ones with him for an experience. pierre is so outwardly living lavish he just gives that vibe. but also, not to say that his gift giving is not thoughtful.
yuki tsunoda - words of affirmation
he always has nice things to say about pierre, and we all know how much he loves pierre. yuki gives me vibes of being a very sentimental type, always remembering the little details. i think he loves when people he loves remembers the little things about him and praises his accomplishments
alex albon - quality time
alex just screams quality time. he'd do anything if it means spending time with his loved ones. the type of bf to follow you along for errands, or even just sit around while you read a book. so precious.
nicholas latifi - phyical touch
i think nicky is a pretty affectionate guy (based on sandra's posts). he's very much a 'hand always on you' type of guy. a very, always a kiss goodbye and goodnight kind of guy.
bonus !
nyck de vries - quality time/acts of service
i think nyck is the kind of guy to learn your hobbies to enjoy them with you. you like crocheting? guess what, he got his own hook and yarn. you wanna read a book? nyck is coming with own, + pens/sticky notes to annotate and share thoughts. but also, so nurturing to his loved ones. 10/10 will fill up your gas tank and also drive you all over town to run errands.
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manari-archives · 9 months
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how many things | LS18
I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me I wonder how many things you wanna do you think I'm in-between I feel myself falling further down your priorities And I still make excuses for you constantly
pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader
warnings: angst and alot more angst
word count: 1.4k
note: again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines mentioned. this took longer than expected to write and ive realised im not the best at writing depressing stuff which is ironic cause the entire eics album is mainly just sad songs. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)
masterlist
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Lance slept on the other side of the bed while you sat up reading your favourite book, a frown present on your face as you watched him. Over the last few weeks, he had abruptly become distant. Initially, you attributed it to a tough race but this strange and unusual behaviour persisted far too long. When you questioned his engineers and friends, they claimed everything was normal at work. However, you knew something had changed when he stopped doing the little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place, yet you waited for things to return to normalcy and for him to stop treating you like you were not even a second thought
The next morning, you woke up beside him and watched him sleep, realizing that the intimacy you once had faded. You no longer sat on the roof talking until the sun came up, he no longer held you close at night. You wondered the possible reasons for his sudden detachment, perhaps he felt you were too needy. You also considered the possibility that something had happened at work that he didn’t want to burden you.
Lance used to let you know when he was returning home after the race but he stopped doing that as well. You used to eagerly wait for him at the door, but those days had passed
In a vain attempt to salvage the relationship, you had put in extra effort to spend time with him, but he brushed it off, claiming he ate at work and showing no gratitude for your gestures. His cold demeanour and passive-aggressive remarks during everyday tasks made it difficult for you to express your feeling. The lack of appreciation and affection left you feeling neglected and unseen.
As time passed, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, making excuses for him constantly instead of confronting him directly. The emotional distance between you had grown, leaving you feeling unloved. You couldn't even remember the last time he said he loved you.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you confronted Lance about his distant behaviour. You expressed your frustrations, pointing out how patient and understanding you had been for months, yet he remained closed off and dismissive. 
You couldn't hold back your emotions any longer. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you faced Lance, feeling a mix of frustration, sadness, and love. His eyes welled up too, but he seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
"I can't do this anymore, Lance," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. "I've tried my best to be patient, to understand what you're going through, but you keep shutting me out. I feel like I'm living with a stranger, not the man I fell in love with.
Lance looked pained, his brow furrowed as he tried to respond, but you couldn't bear to make more excuses for him, it's become a habit at this point. You continued, your words gaining strength.
"When was the last time you told me you loved me?" you asked, your voice wavering. "It's been months, Lance. I deserve better than this."
As tears streamed down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder, "Am I not even a second thought in your mind?" The realization hit hard, and you felt yourself falling further down his priorities with each passing moment. 
You questioned, Your voice trembling with emotion, "How many things do you think about before you even get to me? It feels like I'm lost in the background of your thoughts." The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, reflecting the growing distance between you and Lance.
"I can't help but wonder how many things you want to do, and I feel like I'm just in between, an afterthought," you added, voicing the uncertainty and doubt that had been plaguing your mind. The sense of being unimportant and overshadowed in his life continued to haunt you.
Amidst the turmoil of emotions, you realised that his corner in your mind is well established, but you're starting to fear that you don't have a prominent place in his anymore. The contrast between your feelings of devotion and his apparent detachment became increasingly evident, leaving you with a sense of insecurity and sadness.
Despite your heartfelt plea, Lance remained resolute in his emotional distance. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he couldn't find the words to express what he was going through. You could sense that he was grappling with his demons, but his inability to share them left you feeling helpless and rejected.
"I can't do this anymore," you said, your voice trembling as you stepped back from him. "I love you, but I can't keep waiting for you to let me in. I need more than this."
Lance looked at you, his face a mix of pain and regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, but it felt like an empty apology.
"I deserve more than this," you repeated, trying to steady your voice, but it cracked with emotion. "I deserve someone who will communicate with me, who will love me, who will let me be a part of their life. I can't be with someone who keeps shutting me out."
He reached out as if to touch you, but you flinched away, the hurt too fresh and raw. "Please," he pleaded, "give me more time. I'll figure this out."
But the well of patience had run dry, and you shook your head sadly. "I've given you enough time," you said, your heart breaking with every word. "I can't keep sacrificing my happiness for someone who won't let me in."
With that, you turned away, unable to bear the pain in his eyes. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders as you grabbed your belongings and left the apartment, the echoes of his apologies lingering in the air.
As you walked away, tears streamed down your cheeks, and you couldn't help but glance back one last time. But you knew deep down that you had made the right choice, as difficult as it was. You deserved to be with someone who would cherish and communicate with you, and staying with Lance would only prolong the heartache.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and the ache of loss remained, but Lance's silence remained. He never reached out, and you found yourself trying to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart. It hurt to think that the love you once shared had slipped through your fingers, lost in the abyss of his silence.
You tried to move on, to fill the void he left in your life, but the pain of losing him lingered. Every little thing reminding you of him, there was hiding from the thought of him and you got ways to find him in every corner. You cherished the memories of your time together, but they became bittersweet reminders of what once was.
And in the quiet moments, you couldn't help but wonder what went wrong, how the love that once burned so brightly had fizzled out into nothingness. You would find yourself looking back, wondering if Lance had ever found the strength to open up, to let someone in. But that chapter of your life had closed, leaving you with the poignant lesson that sometimes, love isn't enough to heal someone else's wounds. 
In the end, all that remained were the fragments of a shattered heart and the bittersweet memories of a love that had been lost. And as you gazed into the night sky, you wondered if time could ever truly heal the wounds it had caused, or if some scars were destined to linger forever.
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der7py · 1 year
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Yandere Fashion designer x reader
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TW: Obsessiveness, implied sexual abuse (past tense, not reader), depression, social anxiety, trust issues, mature language
Enjoy
Yandere FD who lives downtown in the city, who enjoys the quiet life and doesn't mind that no one's around. Really he likes being lonely
That was until you showed up on his doorstep during a bad rainstorm
You explain your not from around this city and your car broke down. You point at it and ask if you can stay with him for a little bit
He's a bit skeptical, eyeing your car and then eyeing you. Hesitantly, let's you come inside to dry off
Yandere FD who tells you to figure out a sleeping arrangement in the living room. He doesn't have any spare bedrooms
Yandere FD who keeps his entire identity a secret. You don't need to know him he doesn't need to know you.
Takes him a while to get obsessed he's already got bad experience in the relationship field
He calls up a mechanic that very night and tells you the earliest they can be is by next week. He wants you out of his house as soon as possible. What if you try and touch him while he's sleeping?!
The very next day he gets you working around 9:30. He doesn't want slackers in his home.
You barely see him. He's always cooped up in his office, designing new outfits and ordering the right cloth
Surprisingly you make a good worker. You don't complain and you get things done.
But by the time the mechanic comes by, he can bare you a little bit.
When you go to leave, you quickly remember. You never catched his name!
"Wait!" He turned around, staring at you through his hair. "I never catched your name!" There was a slight pause between the two of you. Finally, he responded. "That's cause I never threw it." He slammed the door, and didn't even bother peeking out the window. Who knew city folk could be so stingy? You drove off in your car, occasionally looking back at the house.
But he never even came outside.
After a while you started to miss his presence. Even if he was stingy and hard to talk too, he still gave you a place to stay. About a month later you drove back to his house. You knocked on his door three times, praying he'd answer. "What fuck do you- oh. It's you again. Your car break down again?" You shook your head and explained you wanted to get to know him better. Well that was odd. He invited you in, still hesitant about your plans.
Sooner or later Lance found himself feeling something for you. He didn't know what it was, but he wanted to be with you every step of the head. He was imagining a slight future with you. But he didn't know why. Hadn't he just met you? He hated people and always avoided going out. His doctor said depression made people be lonely and want to be isolated. So why were you different? Weren't you just some annoying pest that showed up on his doorstep?
"Can I catch your name now?" "Oh yeah. It's Lance. Lance Dustbin."
Did he just say he was Lance? The Lance Dustbin?!
You freaked out immediately and asked for his autograph. To say he was flattered was an understatement. He felt appreciated.
After much convincing, you manage to get him to sign your phone case
And with little convincing, you get his phone number
He asks if you two being friends could stay private due to his depression and anxiety and of course you accept.
A lot of your days are spent at his place, drinking coffee or having brunch at a local restaurant.
No matter, you've fallen for the fashion designer.
And he's fallen for you too. But maybe he fell a little too hard
He now constantly seeks for validation from you, whether confirming he's a good friend or if your friends with him for him and not because he's a famous fashion designer.
He gets worried when you don't text back. Did something happen? Was that creep next door bothering you? Did you not like him anymore??
It's never established if you two are dating or not. And he wants to keep it that way. What if a paparazzi finds out about you? You and him will never get any sleep!
He cares a lot about you, so don't lead him astray okay?
Please... Just stay with him a little longer.. he doesn't wanna be left alone again..
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Platonic Yandere! Voltron x Reader
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These are my first headcanons I’ve uploaded so they might be a little all over the place and unorganized💀💀 but anyways hope you guys enjoy?
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I don’t know if having all of them obsessed with you is a good thing or a bad thing
On one side, they’d be willing to do anything in order to protect you
But on the other, there’s literally no way you’re ever getting away from them, not with the defenders of the universe being your personal guard dogs
You had to have been friends with at LEAST one of them before finding the blue lion and I’m feeling Pidge was the first one to have been the starting catalyst
So once you’ve met everyone else, something just clicked in their brains
Your whole being was just so comforting and familiar for them that they didn’t even realize their feelings towards you becoming twisted
You wouldn’t be able to go anywhere by yourself
Feel like eating something? Good thing Hunk’s tagging along, maybe he’ll make you a tasty meal
Need to train in the training deck? Well, Keith feels like his fighting skills are getting a little rusty
Want to look over the star chart? Luckily Coran and Pidge are right there to help you understand some of the patterns
Want to get some rest in your room? Allura’s already suggesting you guys should have a slumber party in her room!
You won’t get any time to yourself, not with one of them breathing down your neck
There will always be one of them right next to you wherever you are
Like they’re clinginess is unreal💀 some will make their clingy needs obvious (LANCE, Hunk, Coran) while the others will be a bit more discreet about it (Shiro, Keith, Pidge)
I feel like Allura would be in between
But despite this, none of them are willing to take the risk of you roaming around outside the castle
You could try and run from them, maybe the aliens on the planets they visit will want to keep you for themselves, or the galra might show up and start attacking!
Because of that lingering fear, missions are usually done with you back in the safety of the castle with Coran and Allura (if she hasn’t begun piloting the lion yet)
They’re usually left on babysitting duties with you which they don’t honestly mind…
All of them would be SUPER overprotective of you to the absolute MAX, telling you the castle was the only place that could keep you safe
If they aren’t around that is
Being around them in the castle begins to feel more an obligation, and you feel more like a prisoner
Which is why you prefer Shiro out of all of them because he’s the only one who gives you some amount of freedom
Shiro understands what it’s like to be kept as a prisoner and understands just how restricting your situation is
He definitely tries to work out some negotiation with you
To make up for the others obsessive need to constantly be around you, he forces them to chill out and just let you be
Kind of like a schedule of some sort
With Shiro’s light supervision, you can finally take a moment for yourself without having to worry about the lingering eyes you’ve felt since leaving earth
Just don’t take advantage of Shiro’s kindness because the little privacy he’s given you can easily be taken away and you’d be back at stage one with the group hogging for your attention
Because this group is diverse in personalities, it can be extremely draining having to deal with them all on a daily basis
Lance and Keith fight for your attention, Lance being more loud and open about it
It’s like a tug of war situation with them, constantly having them bicker over who gets to hangout with you and fighting for that right
“Hey y/n, I say we make a break for it. You, me, we’ll make a great pair just saving the universe!”
“You really think they want to spend time with you?? I think y/n was on their way to the training deck right?”
It’s exhausting to say the least
Having Pidge run on and on about programs she’s working on can be draining and you often find yourself dozing off until she wakes you up, forcing you to listen to her rants and programs she’s currently working on again
(Definitely has some sort of tracker on you, everybody knows about it except you)
I feel like Hunk wouldn’t be as bad as the others but he does force you to cook with him in the kitchen, constantly wanting your inputs and needing compliments, not allowing you to leave until you’ve taste tested all of his new dishes
Manipulates you into staying with him by saying no one appreciates his cooking💀 makes you feel bad so you reluctantly stay in your seat
Allura and Coran…
They have never felt such intense feelings for a person before, so it really throws them off once they’ve developed their twisted version of affection for you
Their planet was destroyed and now that they finally found a home in you, they’re both willing to do anything in order to keep you in the safety of their arms
“Y/n just the person I was looking for! I need your help in running some tests for me”
“Ah y/n there you are! I was starting to get worried when I didn’t find you with the others,,”
Shiro plans on keeping and protecting the innocence he saw in you when you guys first met
Definitely gives overprotective dad vibes
He’ll be forceful with you if you try and do anything dangerous, like trying to go out on missions or even trying to escape them
I don’t think escaping is even possible tbh, they all kinda desperate ngl💔
Overall, this group is dead set on keeping you with them
It doesn’t really matter what you want because you don’t really understand the true dangers the universe can throw at you
They just want to keep you safe and happy
As long as you follow along with their rules and requests, living in the castle with this group won’t be as terrible as compared to you constantly fighting against them
That won’t be well received by either of them, especially Allura and Shiro
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Keith stares.
Constantly.
He always has. Even at the Garrison, Lance can remember him just staring. Endlessly. Like he was looking right through you, or like he was staring straight into your soul. Sometimes both at once. He’d never spoken one word to Lance before they went to space, but Lance remembers that stare with complete clarity. (Probably because he was on the other end of it more than he’s willing to admit, with all his attempts to get Keith’s attention.)
The staring doesn’t stop when they get to space. It doesn’t stop when they accept their roles as teammates, when Keith finally starts participating in their (totally justified!) rivalry, when they begrudgingly decide that maybe they can peel back on the arguing, a little. When they realise how well they work together. When they start working together on purpose, and some of those stares come with a small smile, a quirk of the lips, really, that brightens indigo eyes and shows the tiniest peek of crooked incisors. (When tragedy strikes, and the stare is blank. After tragedy, when the stare only gets blanker, and they don’t talk about what happens next but when Lance comes into his room after days of no response, sits with him quietly, brushes the tangles out of his hair and reminds him there are still reasons for him to get up. When they really become a team, just the two of them, red and black and the leader and his right hand.)
When the stares only gets softer and softer, and when Lance is the subject of them more and more frequently.
“What?” Lance snaps one day, frustrated and embarrassed and tired of being the only one that Keith looks at so closely. “What are you even looking at? You’re always staring at me, man, like you’re trying to fuckin’ read my soul, or something. It’s weird.”
Lance feels bad as soon as he says it. It’s defensive and mean and he tenses, preparing for Keith’s upcoming scowl, the argument.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead Keith smiles. Not one of his quick ones, a barely-there quirk of the lips, but a real grin, wide enough to make his eyes squint and face brighten. The fondness bleeds from him; Lance couldn’t miss it if he was the densest person alive.
Slowly, like he’s given Lance time to back away, he reaches foreword and tucks Lance’s hair behind his ears, even though it’s too short for that and doesn’t do anything, even though it’s clearly all about the gesture, an excuse to touch Lance gently.
Lance’s breath stutters on his inhale. Keith doesn’t pull away, resting his hand on the side of Lance’s cheek, not quite cupping it but not quite not cupping it, either.
“God, I’m so lucky,” Keith murmurs, almost too quiet for Lance to hear. (But no. Not impossible. Keith could’ve said it at one decibel and Lance would have strained himself to injury trying to hear it.)
“What?” Lance asks hoarsely, well aware his face is flaming.
Keith only smiles wider. “How could I not stare at you?” he asks, like Lance isn’t losing his whole mind.
Lance clears his throat. Then again, and again. And a fourth and fifth time for good measure because what the fuck.
“Keith, what — what’s going on —”
“I am so lucky,” Keith repeats, firmer this time. He has the same stupid look on his face, like he cannot help but he besotted with Lance, somehow. He opens his mouth again and Lance knows that if he has to hear whatever mushy thing Keith has cooked up then he is going to melt into a puddle of flaming goo. Lance shoots out and slaps his hand over Keith’s mouth.
“Stop speaking,” he orders, face flaming. “Explain what the hell has gotten into you.”
“Those are opposite instructions,” Keith says, muffled, because he is a jerk. His eyes are sparkling in amusement.
“I am going to whoop your ass, Kogane.”
“Fine, fine.” He pulls Lance’s hand off his face and then links it in his, holding them in his lap. He rubs his thumb over Lance’s knuckles as he speaks. “You remember the mall food court? Two days ago?”
Lance tilts his head. “Yeah?” He doesn’t know what the hell that has to do with anything. They had a supply run a couple days ago, loading up on cleaning mods and food supplies and million other things, and he and Keith had stopped for lunch at the food court slash restaurant.
“You, uh, you remember that waiter?”
Lance frowns, trying to picture a waiter. All he can really remember is how Keith had laughed so hard at one of his jokes that soda had spewed out of his nose. He feels bad, but he can’t picture their waiter at all.
“No?”
Keith scowls. It’s such a stark difference from his sappy look before that it’s startling. “That weirdo, stuck up shithead who wouldn’t leave you alone. He called you pretty boy three separate times.”
Vaguely, Lance remembers some light flirting as the waiter set down the cheque. He can’t even picture the guy’s face.
“I mean, not really. I get called pretty boy a lot.”
He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but it makes Keith laugh. He looks relieved, like he’s been worrying about Lance and the waiter.
Like he’d been jealous.
The sappy look is back on his face. “Just made me think, is all.”
Lance’s throat is dry again. The air is charged, and Keith is staring again, eyes tracing every inch of Lance’s face.
Something is going to change tonight. He can feel it.
“Think about what?”
He’s leaned closer without realising. Keith smiles, noticing, and his hand comes back up to Lance’s cheek. This time he cups it blatantly, running the edge of a calloused thumb over Lance’s cheekbones.
“How lucky I am,” he murmurs, repeating his sentiment from earlier, “that we’ve got such a pretty boy on our team. On my team.”
Lance face flames. His first instinct is to deny it, vehemently, to ask Keith what the hell his deal is. Something ugly rears in his head, something hurt — how dare Keith make fun of him like that. How dare he mess with Lance about something he’s sensitive about.
But there’s not an ounce of meanness on Keith’s face. He’s looking at Lance in a way that can only be reverent, like Lance is the only person on the castle, the only person ever.
He remembers all of a sudden that Keith is the most honest person he knows. Keith, who can’t lie if he tries, who’s emotions are written all over his face all the time, who’s easy to rile up because he wears his heart on his sleeve, who puts every ounce of effort he has into everything he does. Who fights this war even though it’s hard for him because he loves everyone so much.
Lance blinks, and is more surprised than he should be to find his face wet. Keith’s face creases a little in concern, and he gently wipes the tears from Lance’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
Lance laughs wetly, more incredulous than anything.
“Mullet, if you don’t kiss me right this fucking second —”
Keith laughs. He doesn’t hesitate a second more, leaning in and pressing his lips to Lance’s, gently at first, then like he can’t get enough.
His eyes are closed, as he kisses.
Lance almost misses the staring.
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microwave-core · 10 months
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I've been plagued by thoughts about the cooking skills of the champions for some reason and have no choice but to write them down so here you go. Blue strikes me as the type of person who has the potential to be a great cook but rarely ever puts the effort in. He just doesn't care too much for cooking. He has other things to do and he can get food somewhere else. That being said, if he is cooking for another person, than he is going to go all out because he is a try hard. Complimenting his cooking gives him the biggest ego boost.
Red is a microwave cooker, as in at least 90% of his meals are going in the microwave. Average meal consists of a cup of noodles and a mug brownie. It's passable, it works enough for him and that's all he cares about. Dude lived on a mountain for a long ass time, he doesn't need luxury, he just needs to get by. He has a male living space, I'm sorry.
Lance is pretty average. Your not getting anything incredible out of him, but you know it's never going to be terrible. He also seems like the kind of person to eat the equivalent of chicken and rice for every meal almost every day of the week. He's not against making something else or eating out, but he would prefer to just make something quick and move on with his day.
Steven is banned from the kitchen. This man will burn water. Anything he touches will be scorched in an instance. Don't ask him how it happens, he doesn't know, his hands just turn ingredients to dust upon making contact, and no amount of supervision or guidance can save him. The only reason he should be manning a stove is to be making Bismuth crystals.
Wallace is a great cook and also loves cooking. He will make a banger meal, every meal, every day of the week, and he takes pride in that. He loves to cook for other people, both to show off and take care of them. He is also the only reason why Steven hasn't died of malnutrition. If they ever get divorced, Steven is in danger.
Cynthia would be on the better end of average. Still not anything incredible, but, again, you know it's never going to be bad. But she definitely seems like the type who would much prefer to eat out at any and every opportunity, especially with company. She doesn't dislike the act of cooking, she just doesn't like how long it takes.
Alder is a grill dad. At every event-family gatherings, league mandated meetings, Ghetsis' court hearing-he is outside and he is grilling. He's got the kiss the cook apron and sandals and everything. Whatever he makes, it is going to be delicious, and you will almost defiantly be sent home with tons of leftovers. Man is just dad shaped.
Iris feels like she ranges between incredible and terrible. As in, she will either make one of the most delicious things you've ever had in your entire life or the worst thing you've ever put in your mouth, and there is no in between. It's entirely dependent on what she makes, like she has some recipes that are baller and anything outside of that is risky at best. Also seems like the type who would make really good ramen.
Diantha is also a great cook, but she rarely has the time to do any actual cooking. Girl is way too busy juggling the work of being both a champion and movie star to set aside time to cook. She's almost always going to eat out, mainly around Lumious City. She's practically a regular at every major café, as she constantly cycles between them for each meal of the day.
Kukui is pretty good, but is also a group cooker. He needs to be cooking with another person, whether that be his wife, or his pokemon, or one of his many adopted children, or his actual child. It doesn't matter, he just needs to be with someone to talk and mess around with. it's lonely when no else is there.
Hau only eats Malasadas. It is the only thing he has consistently eaten for years. The fact that he is still alive is a mystery. People close to him are constantly offering to eat out because that is the only way he will eat literally anything else. It's not that he doesn't like other foods, or that he's a picky eater, he just really likes Malasadas.
Leon is on the lower end of average. He can usually make a passable meal, but he's gonna miss sometimes. He's also never at home, so he rarely even has time to cook with to begin with. However, as a baker? He's nothing short of immaculate. Easily the best baker on this list. He would win The Great Galarian Bake Off every year without any competition.
Geeta is an enigma. Is she good? Is she bad? Incredible? Terrible? Only she knows. She's also the type who barely ever has time to cook to begin with, being the workaholic that she is. She probably hasn't touched a stove in years, and has very little desire to change that fact. Do not ask her to cook, she will not do it.
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magnummagnussen · 1 year
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my tears ricochet ∘ l.s. 18
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You know I didn't want to have to haunt you
But what a ghostly scene
You wear the same jewels that I gave you
As you bury me
summary: after a breakup, the last thing anyone wants is to see the person that hurt them. it only adds salt to the wound to see they're completely fine.
pairing: lance stroll x female! reader
word count: 1,073
warnings: angst, anxious thoughts, sad lance
a/n: the first in the taylor swift series <3 i planned so many others but i guess i'm not still not over my own breakup because this was the most natural thing to write. dedicated to @lovelytsunoda, enjoy the heartbreak xx
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standing in the mirror, lance stared at his own trembling reflection. anxiously adjusting and readjusting his jacket as he waited for his father to come and tell him that the car was there to take them to the event. in all honesty, he hated going to them, never sure where to go or look, how to strike up a conversation (if at all), and if what he did was correct. 
“hurry up, let’s go” lawrence shouted as he knocked briefly on the hotel door, disrupting him from his own thoughts. picking up his wallet and phone from the bed, he made his way out of the room and joined his father at the elevator.
-
"this is big for us you know? a chance to see the strulovitch men in style and showcase the team" lawrence declared, half as an affirmation to himself, half as a warning for his son. lance nodded as he looked out the window of the car, only to be met with a sea of photographers waiting to swallow his shaking form.
"is anyone off the grid going to be there?" he asked, partly hoping that there would be at least one friendly face.
"i think ocon will, not too sure though" lawrence replied, combing his fingers through his hair and over his stubble. releasing a sigh of relief, lance finally felt like maybe he wouldn't mess this whole thing up if he could stick by esteban's side. finally, the car rolled up to its destination, allowing both men to get out before walking to the velvet curtain.
"breathe. you can do this. you've done this before." he muttered to himself, before hearing that he was all clear to get on the red carpet. plastering a smile, he opened the curtain and moved to strike a pose for the cameras. the sound of cameras and shouting was all he could hear, brilliantly coupled with the fluorescent lighting that felt like he was being blinded. after a few moments of "showing off the strulovitch brand" he made his way to the other side of the carpet before desperately searching for a familiar face.
looking across the room, he found not one, but two.
one was a face he saw constantly, that represented familiarity, kindness, and warmth. the other? a face he could never forget, no matter how hard he tried. he watched them both together as she looked up at esteban with adoring eyes and a stunning smile. he stood there paralyzed and then he noticed. he noticed the jewellery that adorned her ears, her neck, and her wrist.
they were all from him. more specifically from their first valentine's day, anniversary, and christmas together.
throughout the three years lance and y/n spent together, he never thought that she and esteban had ever had a conversation when he wasn't around. in formula three they never really even interacted so why now? why after months upon months of him trying to heal the heart that she broke, did they finally get together?
he was shattered when she ended their relationship. after visiting him for the weekend, y/n called and told him plainly that she didn't like him like that. that she hoped that the longer they were together, the more her feelings would grow, but they never did.
realizing he had been standing there far too long, he tried to go to the corner of the room, hoping that they hadn't noticed him and he could just avoid them altogether. on his way, he heard esteban, calling for him as if they saw each other in the paddock. as if it were just a normal day.
"lance, lance" esteban said, shouting the second time he said the canadian driver's name. lance turned his gaze to meet him, nervously walking over to the pair.
"when did you get here?"
"uh just a minute ago" he replied, avoiding eye contact with y/n as he spoke. politeness be damned, he couldn't look at her without remembering every sleepless night he had after that call.
"do you want to come and sit with us for the show?" esteban asked, sending him into a frenzied rush to find an excuse to leave the situation.
"you know i should probably go find my-"
"come on, it'll be like old times" y/n interrupted, her voice as cheery as the day he met her. a sound that he didn't think he would ever hear again and, selfishly, one he wished had even an ounce of hurt.
"actually, i'm just gonna go find my dad, i'm sure he's looking for me anyways" he said before turning and walking away, wanting nothing more than to get through this event and be alone again.
-
lance kept his head down, staring at the seat numbers until he found his own, assuming he would be next to his father. slowly sitting, he turned his head to see that y/n was next to him. taking a deep breath, he took his phone out to try and find anything else to occupy his mind. anything that would cancel out the sickly sweet smell of her perfume, the smile she flashed earlier, but most of all, that she still wore his jewels.
as the show started, all anyone would've seen was him watching the show intently. that wasn't true though, he wouldn't be able to tell you about any of the clothes the models wore. looking at the runway, the only things on his mind were the questions he asked himself after the breakup.
was it all a lie?
did she meet someone else?
am i not good enough?
he knew he had the answer to the first one. she said it herself. the second question was one that sent him into a frenzy a few months ago and was now clearly answered. she not only met someone else, but he introduced them, sparking a whole new set of questions. that last one, however, is one he still asks himself every day.
sensing that he wasn't paying attention, y/n set her hand on his thigh, sending a bolt of electricity through his body.
"are you okay?" she whispered, looking into his rich brown eyes for any hints of discomfort.
"i'm fine" he choked out as he shifted his leg to be rid of her hand. giving an answer he'd said a thousand times since she left. it just wasn't one he believed.
......
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smartycvnt · 3 months
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Title: Star City Crossed
Pairing: Nyssa al Ghul x Reader
Prompt: N/A
Word Count: 1537
Nyssa felt terribly uncomfortable inside of the police station. Laurel, however, was insistent that they come here after dinner. Nyssa had kept her head out of trouble while helping Laurel, so there was no real reason for Nyssa to tell Laurel no. However, that didn't mean Nyssa was suspicious of Laurel's excitement.
"Laurel, I feel like they're staring," Nyssa whispered through grit teeth. Laurel just shrugged their looks off. She knew better than most that cops were gossips. They were probably trying to figure out whether or not Nyssa and Laurel were a thing.
"Don't worry about them," Laurel reassured Nyssa. She opted for keeping a little distance between them as she approached Ash's desk. The last thing that Laurel wanted was for Ash to think that Nyssa was Laurel's girlfriend. If Laurel's plan was going to work, Ash had to know for sure that Nyssa was also very single. "Detective Lovett, do you have a moment?"
"For the captain's daughter? I have a few," Ash said with a smile. Nyssa seemed to stiffen a little behind Laurel, which Laurel took as a bad sign. If Nyssa thought Ash liked Laurel, she'd never make a move.
"Do you have more time if I tell you that there's a sandwich from Creek's in it for you?" Laurel asked. Ash seemed to really perk up at that. She hadn't eaten all day, and even just the thought of food made Ash's mouth water. "Attagirl. This is Nyssa. She needs your help with something, and my father can't know about any of it."
"It's one of those things, got it." Ash tapped the side of her head as she put her city issued gun in her desk drawer. "Let's head upstairs. I could use a breather."
"Good idea," Laurel said. Nyssa followed the two women up to the roof of the police station. It was a place that Nyssa had been before, not that she'd admit it with the police officer standing right there.
"Alright, what do you need from me?" Ash asked. She was one of the few people who had never waivered in her support of the Arrow. It had been the cause of a lot of arguments between Ash and Quentin, but Laurel thought that it was noble for Ash to stick to her guns. There were rumors about Ash having done some vigilante work before joining the force, but if those reports ever existed, they had been sealed shut.
Laurel looked over towards Nyssa, and it was then that Nyssa realized that Laurel expected her to do the talking. "I believe that there is a great threat lurking in your city. A few old associates of mine are out for revenge."
"There's nothing I can really do about that, not now at least. I don't know what you want from me," Ash said.
"Come on, I've heard the rumors. Ash, please," Laurel begged. Ash clenched her jaw as she tried to think of an excuse that wouldn't give her past away. The misspent years of her youth running around the Glades had been constantly following her around. Everybody whispered about the things that she had done. The speculation about why Captain Lance had helped her out and continued to do so.
"I am already on probation Laurel. I can't even begin to think about doing what you've asked of me," Ash sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't give up everything."
"I won't ask you to do that then, but please for the love of god, spend some time with Nyssa. Let her show you how to protect yourself. These people, they've got body counts bigger than anyone else." Laurel grabbed onto Ash's hands. It wasn't fair, but Laurel rarely ever played it fair with Ash. They were more like sisters than either woman was willing to admit, and Ash had promised Quentin that she'd be there for Laurel if he couldn't.
"Alright, and I'll find other ways to help you. I promise," Ash said.
Laurel seemed content with that. She let Ash get back to work. Star City was a restless city, which meant a lot of late night calls. Ash was lucky enough not to be on patrols anymore, so she only had to answer specialized calls. Generally, she had worked homicide, but Quentin had moved her around to the vigilante task force once that was off the ground. As the police department's relationship with the vigilantes changed, Ash's job description had as well.
She had several quiet nights in a row, which opened up her days to meeting Laurel's friend at a gym downtown. Nyssa's training exceeded Ash's weekend MMA league by far. Ash was a quick study, especially whenever Laurel joined them. Ash knew that Laurel was out helping the city as Black Canary, and it made Ash feel a bit better about allowing that to happen knowing that Laurel could really protect herself.
"There was a body found the other night," Ash said casually as she helped Nyssa put the mats up one night. Nyssa's warning had stuck with Ash for the weeks after that night on the rooftop. The supposed big bad hadn't reared their heads, but there were subtle signs. Bodies that were dropping in ways that didn't add up to anything someone already in the city could do.
"That isn't uncommon for this city," Nyssa pointed out.
"True enough, but a clean decapitation is. Your old associates, did they do things like this?" Ash asked. Nyssa didn't like talking about her old life. Star City was supposed to be her second chance. She had lost a lot, but loss was something that Star City knew better than any other place in the world. Sometimes it felt like nobody got a happy ending.
"One them, yes. Who was killed?" Nyssa asked. Ash could hear the little spike in her voice. Whoever these people were, they made Nyssa nervous. Ash didn't like the idea of someone who could make a former assassin nervous.
"This gang leader. It's not exactly a huge loss, but this is the fourth person I knew who has been targeted. It's just a little bit of an odd coincidence, that's all," Ash said. Nyssa's eyes narrowed and she dropped the matt down a little harder than she meant to. "What?"
"You knew the other murder victims?"
"Of course, they were all from my old neighborhood. One way or another, back when I was hellbent on screwing up my future, I wanted to take them down. This last one got me arrested," Ash laughed.
"Come on, I'm taking you home tonight," Nyssa said quickly. Ash wasn't a fan of being rushed out, but she welcomed the extra bit of time with Nyssa. Ash wouldn't admit it, especially not to Laurel, but she was starting to develop feelings for Nyssa. The woman was awkward in an endearing way. Ash wanted to spend as much time with Nyssa as she could teaching her the ways of normal life.
Ash stayed silent on the walk to her apartment. Nyssa kept her head on a swivel. Nothing seemed to be up, not until they entered Ash's apartment building. They had barely gotten a few feet into the building when the first arrow whizzed through the air and nearly cut through Ash's neck.
"Fuck!" Ash shouted as she ducked down. Nyssa's eyes followed the trajectory back and she rushed outside. Ash watched several bodies drop down. Nyssa was good, but the numbers were against her. Ash knew that it was stupid, so she didn't just rush out there. She watched Nyssa from afar.
Not a single one of Nyssa's adversaries turned their attention towards Ash. They had all seen Ash drop after the arrow had been fired. Nyssa ran out in such a rush that they took it for anger. Ash crawled over towards the still open door and lined up to take her shots. Marksmanship had always been one of Ash's strong suits, so she had no issues firing.
Nyssa's head whipped over to where Ash was laying on the ground after the first body dropped. The remaining two tried to scatter, but Ash managed to incapacitate them. Nyssa ran over to Ash, who began to push herself up off of the ground.
"How did you know that you wouldn't shoot me?" Nyssa asked. Ash brushed the dirt off of her jacket as she shrugged.
"I don't miss." Ash smirked. Nyssa punched Ash's shoulder, but all Ash cared about was the relieved look on Nyssa's face. "Are you okay?"
"You're the one who was just almost killed. Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"
"It's not the first time I've been shot at," Ash said. Nyssa could tell that she was being overly casual to lighten the mood. Nyssa hesitantly reached towards Ash, who sort of leaned into the touch. Nyssa wasn't great with comforting people, but she knew that tonight Ash needed her.
"Come on, it should be safe now." Nyssa led Ash inside without letting her look back on the mess on the street. They had the morning to worry about that, and if things didn't go their way, Nyssa knew she could get Ash out of the city quietly.
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