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#but it only addresses part of the situation —the part of his feelings that are fake. it doesn’t actually see or do anything
emeraldspiral · 3 days
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So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is it's take on relationship inequality.
Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.
St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.
And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.
But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.
So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.
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hyperfixatedbean · 2 days
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Why I think Eddie Diaz is autistic !
(As an autistic individual)
- Struggle with emotional expression:
He often struggles to express emotions, particularly in his relationship with women, (look at the way he acted with Sharon, Ana and Marisol, never communicating clearly, or doing it VERY straightforwardly (-> “you should go”)
He struggle with articulating his feelings, to name his emotions and process them (seemingly alexithymia) and he close off a lot, even with his therapist !
- Literal Thinking:
He tend to interpret language literally, (interactions with his colleagues and fast problem-solving, keeping a cool head under very stressful situations, the way he react to jokes, the way he doesn’t believe and ‘judge’ the way they fear superstitions, only believing what he can prove)
It seems to me like he experiences challenges with understanding figurative language or sarcasm and only believe what is proven, he’s very closed off about the idea of superstition which can be seen in some autistic people who struggle with theses concept
And he can be really straightforward (see the “you should go home Ana” or the “last time he wore that was at his mom’s funeral”) -> stating facts straightforwardly without processing it first and without realizing how stating it like that can be ‘awkward’ to others
- Meltdowns and Coping Mechanisms:
He experiences moments of intense frustration and resorts to unhealthy coping mechanisms (-> fights and destroying his room, hurting himself and other in the process (as in a lot of autistic meltdown and the way a lot of us turn to violent coping mechanisms to fight against sensory overload and the complexity of understanding our own emotions -> resorting to violence)
He parallels experiences of sensory overload and regulation, also his panic attacks and the way he avoid addressing his trauma and feelings by brushing it off and ignoring his own mental health, struggling to understand his own feelings about what he’s experiencing
- Difficulty with Trauma and Normalcy:
His reluctance to address trauma and persistent efforts to appear "normal."
It reflects challenges faced by autistic ppl in processing traumatic experiences and blending in with neurotypical society (force conformism and such)
There’s something about the way he and his father approach emotions, keeping it hidden and close off, that resonates a lot with my own experiences as someone autistic raised by someone who’s (probably) autistic too ‼️
+ the way he quickly connect with Buck exemplifies the ‘neurodivergent link’ : ADHD and autism solidarity is a reality ! Neurodivergent people tend to feel more secure, comfortable and friendly with other neurodivergent individuals!!
He basically just give such a autistic energy, like- I really connect with his struggle and the way he interact with the world around him, but please tell me what YOU think 🫶‼️
To have a better view of this part of him we would need more of his pov, sadly we rarely get it so I’m basing this of what I remember, what I personally see in him, what I connected with :’D
(Keep in mind that I probably projecting and it’s just an headcanon, not hate please <3 constructive criticism is welcome tho !!)
Credits it to @thisonemaniac that helped me make this post :D !! We talked about it a bit, I highlighted in orange what he remind me off ‼️
(Since you asked me about it you might want to read this :D !! I explained it better I think xD @lesbianphoebespengler )
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john-macnamara · 2 days
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It took us a little while to find the file for this, but we wanted to successfully wrap up PEIP's infamous portal incident. As you know, the Paranormal, Extraterrestrial, and Interdimensional Phenomena division of the United States' Military interrogated one Johnathan S. MacNamara after the incident. He was twenty-four at the time. We thought it would be beneficial to share this portion of the story. Give all you loyal followers the full picture.
cws: implied torture, degradation, drugging, implied sexual assault
Interrogation Records: Major Johnathan S. MacNamara; Feburary 15, 2006.
Interviewer: Lt. Gen Joseph N. Brown (JB)
Interviewee: Maj. Johnathan S. MacNamara (JM)
Purpose: Prove connection to ex-Colonel Wilbur R. Cross, now under alias Uncle Wiley
At 2:38 AM, MacNamara was forcibly removed from his bed and taken to interrogation room C. He was confined with handcuffs in case of an escape attempt, and injected with 0.7 ml of flunitrazepam combined with 5 ml saline solution. As soon as the injection was completed, the interrogation began.
[Begin Transcript 00:00:05]
JB: What is your relation to Wilbur Cross?
JM: I don't see how this has any relevance to our current problem. Nor how you have any right to request that information. Sir.
JB: You've still got a mouth on you, huh? Don't know what I expected. You're that street whore we hired, are you not? Of course your mouth would be the most important part.
JM: I'm not sassing you, sir. I'm simply stating my misunderstanding of the situation. If I was woken up in the middle of the night for this, I'd appreciate knowing why I happen to be important enough to question.
JB: You don't need to know that. Simply answer me. What is your relation to Colonel Wilbur R. Cross?
JM: He is- was my friend. Is that all you wanted from me? Can I go now?
JB: Oh, a friend you say? Well you weren't his only friend, and yet you were the only one unharmed yesterday. Why is that?
JM: I don't know, sir.
JB: I'm sure you know something. You went to him first. You could have very well had something to do with the attack.
JM: I would never. I am loyal to this organization above all else. I have been nothing but loyal to you. I swear on my life.
JB: Swearing on a traitor's life doesn't mean much.
JM: I'm not a traitor, you fucking pig! ...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry sir. I'm so sorry.
JB: Board him. He should know how to address his superiors with respect.
JM: Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm sorry...
[Indistinct]
[00:11:56]
JB: Do we have an understanding, Major?
JM: ...yes, sir.
JB: Will you refer to your superiors by anything other than "sir" or "ma'am"?
JM: No, sir.
JB: Good. Now, would you like to truthfully answer my previous question about your relationship to Wilbur Cross?
JM: My apologies, sir, but I thought I already did? We were friends, and then he swore fealty to whatever resides beyond that portal. Now we're not.
JB: I was looking for a concise answer, Major.
JM: Sorry, sir.
JB: Are you telling the truth about your relationship? There was nothing romantic there, no hidden feelings that may have lead to assisting him after he left?
JM: Of course not, sir.
JB: I don't believe you. Tell me the truth, or we'll put you under the water again.
JM: I'm not lying, we had nothing between us except for a friendship and a mentorship. I promise, sir. If we had anything else together, I'd have told you as soon as it occurred.
JB: Alright boys, you know what to do.
JM: No. Please-
[Indistinct]
[00:18:31]
JB: Would you like to tell us anything yet?
JM: I...
JB: Yes? Spit it out.
JM: I was in love with him...
JB: There we go! Look at you, finally admitting something. At least you have some sense.
JM: I swear to you, sir, that just because I was in love with him doesn't mean I would have betrayed PEIP for him.
JB: Well, I don't know if I can trust that. But I'm nice, so here's what I'm going to do. We're going to dose you with something that'll make you more... malleable. You'll be more likely to tell the truth and to cooperate. Don't try to resist, it'll be easier if you let it take effect.
JM: I- yes sir.
[JM dosed with 150 ml sodium thiopental]
JB: How ya feeling, soldier?
JM: 'ired...
JB: Good. Where are you?
JM: Uhhhh... I dunno? Sorry...
JB: Wow, you just fall right under this shit, huh? I bet I could do anything I wanted to you, and you wouldn't even know. Maybe you'd even like it, you slut.
JM: Mhm...
JB: But that's not what we're here for. Tell me the true nature of the relationship between yourself and Colonel Cross.
JM: Uh- righ', Wil. Yes. We'r frens. I love him, he doesn love me. Simmle.
JB: We already got that part. What was your relationship to him after he went through the portal?
JM: Oh, sorr'... I aven seen 'im ince the portal.
JB: So you weren't lying to me, then?
JM: No sir.
JB: Were you in cahoots with any entity from beyond that portal since he entered?
JM: Nosir.
JB: Well, considering I don't think you can lie in this state, I'm going to assume you're telling me the truth. Our apologies for the misunderstanding.
JM: Issok.
JB: There must be something we can do to make this up to you. What would you like?
JM: ...sleep?
JB: Well that sounds very nice. Unfortunately, we can't let you go to sleep until the drug wears off, you see. But I do have an idea of what we can do while we wait. Does that sound nice?
JM: Mhm, sure...
JB: Now, if I asked you to do anything right now, you'd do it. Isn't that right?
JM: Yessir...
JB: Wonderful. You all may leave, I have something to do here. Now, stay still, pretty boy, and open up your mouth.
JM: [Indiscernible slurring. Reminiscent of protests]
[End Transcript 00:32:17]
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lupeloto · 11 hours
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a mickey milkovich + physical affection in s11 meta/analysis
Mickey Milkovich went from flinching away any time Ian tried to touch him in a non-sexual setting to accepting physical acts of love and affection even when it’s difficult for him to do so. andddd i wanna talk about it when it is most difficult and why!
I do think that the writers did an good job at portraying the difference in the moments in which he would accept the physical touch with a smile and when it was more difficult for him to do so. (ps me saying that the writers did like anything good in s11 is a rare occurrence)
Season four is when we really begin to see the beginning of that shift into accepting it from Ian. Season five we see that he has gotten more comfortable in receiving as well as giving, especially in times of distress regarding Ian. The next time we see them as a fully functioning couple, there are definitely times in which Mickey was hesitant to accept it but only in times when he felt vulnerable and exposed.
I am going to focus on the later season here as that is when we see Mickey begin to actually address the situation with his father. For example, 11x12 when he had just revealed a genuine fear of his that branches from the abuse he faced in childhood, he flinches at/recoils at Ian’s attempt to comfort him. However, later in the episode, he accepts these joyful acts of affection from Ian because it is something he is no longer ashamed of. He does not shy away from physical affection when it comes from a place of being open and in love with Ian anymore at this point in his life.
I think that this shows that although Mickey has become comfortable and unapologetic in his sexual identity, he has not made those strides in other areas of his life. He still feels this grave shame regarding his father and the abuse he faced. He thinks it makes him weak and has trouble admitting that it is something that has impacted him to this day. Although, Ian obviously sees straight through this facade.
It is also shown in 11x06 when Mickey accepts help from Ian in getting Terry up the steps. Ian stops him, holding his head and reassuring that he is nothing like Terry. Mickey struggles to even look Ian in the eye at this time, the vulnerability so overwhelming. It is so interesting how tends to resent any affection during times regarding that part of his life that he has never fully healed from. It is also incredible to see how Ian knows exactly how to deal with him in those situations. He knows what Mickey needs, offering small acts of affection in those times until the finale. It is as if Ian was holding in this urge to embrace him, so he finally gives in and forces Mickey into the hug, knowing it is what he needed once Mickey stops resisting almost immediately.
anyways, I think that mickey milkovich has done such a long way in accepting love from ian and being proud of who he is in that way. and i also think that he still had such a long way to come in terms of healing those others parts of himself and ian will be there the whole time and im so proud of him and he’s so proud of him. anddd enjoy these pics of them being happy and in love!
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damned-punk · 1 day
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it’s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
Part Ten
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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
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ozlices · 9 days
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another super insulting part of the watcher situation i haven't rly seen ppl addressing much
ryan deadass saying smth like "nobody else on youtube has made tv quality content"
like... i really feel like it's important to highlight that bc not only do they obviously have no respect for their audience, but that statement shows they have no respect for their peers in the industry, either.
not to mention it is a shining example of bleeding arrogance to such a high degree, you will straight up fucking lie bc you're truly convinced you're that special when you're anything but.
there's been NUMEROUS online creators who were recognized by entertainment industry workers BECAUSE they made tv quality content & even full stop blockbuster quality content.
bo burnham started on youtube & is now one of the most wellknown & loved standup comedians of our generation, with numerous netflix specials & even a movie he wrote & directed under his belt.
the try guys, fellow ex-buzzfeed employees, had their own tv specials on food network (based off their youtube shows, btw) & a documentary made about them as well
rosanna pansino has also been on numerous food network shows both as a host & a judge
quinta brunsun, another fellow ex-buzzfeed employee, went on to create her own whole ass sitcom that has been highly praised
matpat cameo'd in the fnaf movie because of his theories & multiple other fnaf creators had small cameos through the employee of the month board easter egg
markiplier made multiple high-quality shows on youtube & is now working on a highly anticipated movie (he was also planned to cameo in the fnaf movie but couldn't due to conflicting schedules with his own movie)
hot ones got their own tv gameshow due to their popularity & they are still one of the most wellknown, beloved & respected internet shows
many short films made on youtube went on to premiere at film festivals & even in theaters
the hit horror film "talk to me" was created by youtubers rackaracka
webseries of actual fucking tv shows have also existed for literal decades
the list goes on.
to seriously think that overproduced bullshit is all you need to make "tv quality content" is not only tone-deaf, but shows they do not even know what they're talking about. many tv shows & huge blockbuster movies are made with absolutely microscopic budgets & small teams, & they still get praised & awarded for the passion, dedication, & creativity that shined brightly under those restrictions.
the blair witch project is probably the most wellknown & highly praised example of this, but it is far from the Only example
it is a whole other slap in the face, again ESPECIALLY when puppet history is one of their most popular shows, to spit in the face of internet history. to see the success of their predecessors, even ppl they fucking worked with at buzzfeed, & deny them of all their success & efforts to get where they ended up.
no, y'all are not the first people to make "tv quality content" on the internet. FAR from it. because your crap isn't even genuine "tv quality".
but you are the first ones to ever disrespect not only your audience, but your own fucking industry & your peers on this level.
& you are the first & i sorely hope the only fuckwads dumb enough to pull a stunt this fucking stupid, out of touch & utterly tone deaf.
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fvsm4x · 5 months
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru] part II
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SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , Geto Suguru x female reader , dark themes , no happy ending w gojo , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.1k+
— A/N: I was supposed to finish this next week but- oh well..I hope you like it.
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read part I for better understanding
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It has been several months since your breakup with Gojo, and you find yourself still living with Geto. Despite the change in your relationship status, your bad habits are still there. However, there is a silver lining to this situation - you no longer struggle as much as you have, because you no longer have the burden of paying the bills due time.
At first, you felt guilty about letting Geto pay the financial responsibility alone. You insisted on contributing your fair share. However, Geto, being the persuasive individual he is, somehow managed to convince you otherwise. He made a compelling argument, suggesting that it would be wiser for you to save up the money you earn through your work. By doing so, you would have the means to purchase necessary items for yourself in the future.
But in return geto wanted you to go grocery shopping and cook meals for him. It became a daily routine for you to venture out and purchase the necessary ingredients. Despite the repetitive nature of this task, you never complained. After all, Geto had provided you with a roof over your head and so much more. It was your way of expressing gratitude and repaying him for his generosity.
Living with Geto turned out to be a pleasant experience. He was not only caring but also incredibly kind. Whenever you found yourself in the midst of a mental breakdown, he was there to offer support. His comforting presence was like a soothing balm for your troubled mind. He would hold you close, whispering words of reassurance and understanding into your ear, doing whatever it took to make you feel okay again.
One incident that truly showcased Geto's empathy and understanding was when you were cutting yourself in the bathroom. Instead of scolding you or telling you to stop, he patiently waited behind the closed door until you had calmed down. Only then would he enter, carefully addressing your wounds with a gentle touch. It was evident that he understood the pain of depression and the toll it took on one's well-being.
After all - he had once also experienced depression.
Today, as usual, you found yourself needing to go shopping for fresh ingredients. With a shopping bag in hand, you left the room and made your way to the door that led outside.
Before stepping out, you reached for the jacket hanging near the door. It was Geto's jacket. Although you had your own jacket, Geto insisted that you wear his to protect yourself from the cold. It was that time of year when snowflakes gracefully fell from the sky and the air had a biting chill to it.
At first, Geto had wanted to buy you a new jacket, but you kindly declined, not wanting him to spend any more money on you. Instead, he offered you the option of wearing his jacket.
And so, you found yourself slipping into his jacket, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort as you prepared to face the wintry weather outside.
You stepped outside, and were greeted by a winter wonderland. The world around you was transformed into a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard. The ground was blanketed in a pristine layer of snow, untouched by footprints. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches adorned with delicate icicles that shimmered in the soft sunlight. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of a magical day ahead.
As you made your way through the snowy landscape, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded you. The snowflakes gently fell from the sky, dancing and twirling as they made their descent, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Each flake was unique, with intricate patterns and delicate edges that seemed to defy the laws of nature.
The sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow echoed through the stillness, breaking the silence and adding a touch of life to the serene atmosphere. The cold air nipped at your cheeks.
The sight of children building snowmen and families engaged in friendly snowball fights filled your heart with a bittersweet mix of joy and longing. The laughter and playful shouts echoed through the air, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness. It reminded you of the times you had dreamt of a future with gojo, imagining what it would be like to have children of your own, to experience these simple joys as a family.
But reality hit you hard, like a cold gust of wind cutting through your thoughts. Gojo had moved on, finding happiness with someone else. It was a painful truth that you had to accept, even though it still stung deep within. The image of Gojo laughing and playing in the snow with that girl flashed in your mind, a reminder that he had chosen a different path, a different future.
You took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to dampen your spirits.
„Y/n?“ a voice spoke from behind. Your eyes widened as you saw him standing there, your ex, with his signature white hair, piercing sky blue eyes, and tall frame. It was Gojo, the person who had once held your heart in his hands.
He stood before you, his gaze scanning your form before settling on your face. The intensity of his stare made you feel both nervous and vulnerable. You instinctively took a step back, creating a physical distance between you. Gojo noticed your retreat and froze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher your reaction. Your slightly closed eyes and the way you avoided his gaze spoke volumes, revealing the pain and longing that still lingered within you.
“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nervously fidgeted with the collar of your jacket. The mention of his name caused Gojo’s eyes to drop, a mixture of guilt and regret washing over his features. He had always been used to being called by his first name, but hearing his last name from your lips felt like a painful reminder of the distance that now existed between you.
“How are you?” he asked, attempting to regain eye contact with you.
“I’m okay… I guess,” you replied, finally meeting his gaze. Gojo took a step forward, closing the physical gap between you. His hand gently rested on both of your shoulders, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. The touch was both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions within you. You felt nervous, almost scared, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected encounter.
“Listen, I’m sorry for… you know… that we fired you from work. It was really not my intention,” Gojo apologized. You interrupted him, trying to downplay the significance of his actions.
“It’s fine, I forgive you,” you said, your voice lacking conviction. You tried your best to ignore the warmth of his hands on your shoulders, focusing on maintaining your composure. Gojo’s eyes widened as he observed your dropped gaze, uncertain if you were truly okay with what had transpired.
“What?” he asked again, his fingers tightening around your shoulders. That’s when he noticed your jacket, a sense of familiarity washing over him. His fingers instinctively moved to the back of your neck, pulling down the collar to read the name written there.
Geto Suguru.
His best friend’s name was emblazoned on the collar of the jacket you were wearing. It suddenly dawned on him that this was not your jacket, but Geto’s. The scent of Geto’s cologne lingered faintly, intertwining with your own. Gojo’s eyebrows furrowed as a whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind. Was this some sort of revenge? Did you pursue Geto to get back at him, to gain his attention? How did Geto even know about your breakup, despite Gojo never mentioning it to him?
He never expected you to move on so quickly. He knew you had your fair share of struggles, and he had always been the one to bring light into your life. He had believed that you would do anything for him. But the realization that you had seemingly moved on so swiftly ignited a pang of jealousy within him. He had a girlfriend now, he shouldn’t feel this way. His girlfriend was better for him than you, but the sight of you wearing Geto’s jacket still managed to stir something deep within him.
The way you shivered under his touch made him quickly withdraw his hands. “I said it’s okay, I forgive you,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.
“So, you and Suguru?” he asked, ignoring your response. You raised an eyebrow, ready to answer his question, but before you could speak, your phone began to ring. You quickly retrieved it from your pocket, glancing at the caller ID.
Suguru.
Gojo awkwardly stood there, his gaze shifting between you and the phone in your hand. He couldn’t help but notice that the phone you were holding was different from the one he had once bought you. The mark on the phone indicated that it was a cheaper model, a flip phone, unlike the expensive one he had gifted you. Confusion washed over him as he wondered why you would exchange a high-end phone for a cheaper alternative.
Little did he know that you had sold the phone he had given you out of necessity. You had run out of money and needed to pay the bills for the motel you were staying in. Desperate times had forced you to part with the precious gift, opting for a more affordable option.
After answering the call, you quickly excused yourself, explaining that you needed to go buy groceries. However, before you could make your way out, Gojo reached out and gently grabbed your arm, in which you hissed.
"Wait," he said, "Are you and Suguru dating?" His question hung in the air, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation or denial.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. "No, Gojo," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I just live with him. We're roommates."
Gojo's grip on your arm loosened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to relief. The relief was evident in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"I see," he said, "I'm glad to hear that." There was a brief pause between the two of you as you tried to progress what he just said.
Why would Gojo be glad to hear that you and Geto weren't dating? As you tried to process his reaction, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, extending it towards you.
"Uh, since you live with Suguru, it must be bothersome for you," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. "Take this apartment key. It's for you, as an apology for getting you fired."
You hesitated, unsure of what to do. You didn't want anything from Gojo, especially not as a form of apology. "I'm fine being with Suguru. I don't need this key," you replied, pressing it back into his chest. You turned around, ready to walk away and put this painful encounter behind you.
But before you could take another step, Gojo's voice called out, desperation lacing his words. "Wait, please take it!" His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to flinch. The pain from the cuts on your arms intensified, and tears welled up in your eyes.
You quickly shrugged off his hand, wanting to escape the physical pain. As you looked up at Gojo, you saw his eyes downcast, filled with remorse. It hurt to see him like this, knowing that you still hadn't fully moved on from him. You wanted him to be happy, to see him smile, but it seemed like that was a distant dream.
"Okay, I'll take it. Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You reached out and took the key from his hand. With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, determined to focus on the task at hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy groceries."
"Right, uh... have a good day, Y/n!" Gojo called after you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away,
"Suguru, I'm home," you called out, stepping into his house and slipping off your shoes and jacket. The familiar scent of Suguru's home enveloped you as you made your way to the living room, where Geto was lounging on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show.
"Welcome back," he greeted, turning his head to meet your gaze with a warm smile.
"I have some news," you announced, making your way to the kitchen to unload the groceries. Geto followed you, his curiosity piqued, and settled on a chair at the kitchen island, facing you.
As you began to unpack the grocery bag, placing items into the fridge, you tossed a bag of chips to Geto. He caught it effortlessly, his eyes lighting up with gratitude as he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth.
"So, what's the news?" he asked, his voice muffled by the chips.
"Well," you started, carefully choosing your words, "I found an apartment." You decided not to mention that it was Gojo who had bought it for you. The thought of Gojo's gesture still stirred up conflicting emotions within you.
Geto's eyebrows raised,"Where is it?"
You continued to organize the groceries, avoiding eye contact as you replied, "It's not too far from here, and it‘s quite big too, so if you want you can move in with me. You know, it‘s really nice to finally have someone who cares for me other than satoru.." you trailed off.
You mustered the courage to look back at Geto's face, and your heart skipped a beat at the wide-open eyes staring back at you. "You want me to move in with you...?" he asked,
"Yeah... I'm afraid I got attached to you... sorry," you muttered, your hands finding their way onto the counter as you looked down, unable to meet his gaze.
Geto was taken aback by your confession. He had always known about your deep love for Satoru, as you would often seek solace in his room after a nightmare, finding comfort in his presence. In those vulnerable moments, you would whisper Satoru's name as you fell asleep, leaving Geto to silently bear the weight of unrequited love.
From the moment he first laid eyes on you, fate seemed to have decided that he would fall in love with you. But to his surprise, you were already dating his best friend when you first crossed paths. He had initially dismissed you as one of Satoru's chicks, assuming that you would be discarded after a short while. But it turned out that your relationship with Satoru was serious, and his heart couldn't help but ache with jealousy.
He couldn't help but steal glances at the way you looked at Satoru, the admiration in your eyes and the way your lips curved into a smile whenever he was around. It made him envious, but he knew he had no right to feel that way towards his best friend. So he buried his own feelings and pretended to like you only as a friend, even though his heart yearned for more.
As time went on, Geto began to notice a change in Satoru's behavior. The manwhore tendencies he had abandoned when you and he started dating seemed to resurface. It was as if he had grown tired of the commitment and started seeking the attention of other women right in front of Geto's eyes.
The pain of witnessing Satoru's infidelity gnawed at Geto's heart. He wanted to protect you, to tell you about Satoru's behaviour, but he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you with those words. He knew how deeply attached you were to Satoru, how you would forgive him for every transgression, even something as devastating as cheating. You simply couldn't let him go.
Until one day, the inevitable happened. The two of you broke up.
The news hit Geto like a punch to the gut. On one hand, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that you were no longer tied to Satoru's unfaithfulness. But on the other hand, he knew that your heart would be shattered, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in pain.
You stood there in the kitchen, glare dropped as you mentioned your ex‘s name. Geto's heart ached for you. He wanted to offer comfort, to hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay. But he knew that the wounds were fresh, and he would have to tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to reveal his own feelings.
For now, all he could do was be there for you, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear.
„Sure..I can move in with you if that‘s what you would like.“ he spoke, forcing a smile.
Your eyes immediately lightened up as you heard his words,“really?“ you asked.
Geto nodded, his smile growing wider as he saw the genuine happiness radiating from your face. "Yes, really," he replied,“I want to be there for you, to support you and care for you in ways that Satoru couldn't."
A wave of gratitude washed over you as you realized the depth of Geto's commitment. It was a stark contrast to the fleeting affection you had experienced with Satoru. You had always yearned for someone who would truly see you, who would cherish and prioritize your happiness above all else. And now, standing before you, was Geto, offering you just that.
A mixture of emotions swirled within you - excitement, relief, and a tinge of sadness for the end of your relationship with Satoru. You took a step closer to Geto, your eyes locked with his, as you whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for being here for me."
Geto's smile softened,"You don't have to thank me," he replied gently.
-
No.
No.
No. No. No..
What is this?
This is not what Gojo expected when he entered his apartment after being away for a week. The first thing he heard were moans coming from his and his girlfriend's bedroom, and immediately he made his way there to investigate. What he saw was something he never could have imagined. His girlfriend, completely naked, was on top of someone else, riding them on their shared bed where they used to make love. It was a scene that shattered his heart and left him feeling betrayed.
She was cheating on him.
Gojo stood frozen by the door, his eyes wide with shock, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and his once joyful smile replaced by a look of pain.
As he looked at the girl who had been his girlfriend just moments ago, Gojo couldn't help but draw parallels between her and you. The guilt he had felt then was nothing compared to the remorse that now gnawed at his soul.
In that moment, he couldn't fully comprehend the impact of his actions, but now, as he stood in that bedroom, he felt the weight of his betrayal crashing down upon him.
Gojo's gaze shifted from his ex-girlfriend to the guy who had been underneath her. A surge of jealousy and insecurity coursed through him, as he couldn't help but compare himself to this unknown person. Who was he? What did he possess that Gojo lacked? The comparison was inevitable, and it only added fuel to the fire of pain that already consumed him. Doubts gnawed at his mind, questioning his worthiness and wondering if he had failed to measure up, if he had been inadequate in some way.
The room felt suffocating. Gojo's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the shattered love and trust that lay in ruins.
Gojo stormed into the bedroom, his anger and hurt fueling his every step. The force with which he swung the door open was a reflection of the turmoil raging within him, a physical manifestation of the chaos that had erupted in his life. His eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and fury, locked onto the figure lying beneath his now ex-girlfriend.
"Satoru, wait!" the girl cried out, her voice laced with panic and fear, as she was pushed away from the person beneath her. But Gojo was beyond reason, consumed by a maelstrom of emotions that drowned out any pleas for mercy.
Gojo lunged forward, his hand shooting out to seize a handful of her hair. The pain of his grip was a stark contrast to the tenderness he had once shown her, a cruel reminder of the power he held over her in that moment. Their eyes locked, and in that intense gaze, he saw her pupils constrict, a sign of both fear and resignation. Her lower lip quivered, a silent plea for him to release her from his grasp.
But Gojo was deaf to her pleas, his grip on her hair only tightening as she desperately tried to free herself. The sound of her voice, trembling with vulnerability, fell upon deaf ears as he murmured a single word, "Why..." His voice was filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal, unmoved by the smaller hands that desperately attempted to pry his hold loose.
And then, like a dagger to his heart, she uttered the words that shattered his world. "I'm sorry! I found someone else—I love him... please, let go!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of guilt and desperation, her words echoing in the air like a painful confession.
The weight of those words crashed into Gojo's consciousness like a tidal wave, the impact reverberating through his entire being. Found someone else...? The realization hit him with a force that stole the breath from his lungs. These were the same words he had once spoken to you, the words that had torn your world apart.
As if struck by lightning, Gojo released his grip on her hair, his hand falling limply to his side. He stepped back, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. The girl, now free from his hold, collapsed onto the bed, her body crumpling under the weight of the emotional turmoil that had unfolded before her.
Was this the same anguish you had felt when he had confessed he had found someone else? Did he truly forsake someone as remarkable as you for this girl? The weight of his actions settled heavily upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer ignore.
As he turned away from the girl and the person she had been with, Gojo's mind became a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs. Memories of your time together flashed before his eyes, each one a painful reminder of what he had lost. The pain of his own betrayal and the pain he had inflicted upon you mingled within him, creating a storm of guilt and remorse.
Gojo found himself in the living room, his body sinking into the couch as he attempted to make sense of it all. The weight of betrayal pressed upon him, threatening to crush him beneath its burden. It was as if his entire world had crumbled in an instant, leaving him feeling adrift and broken.
His mind was swirling with regrets and unanswered questions, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend what had been irreparably broken. Could he ever earn back your trust? Could he ever make amends for the pain he had caused? The questions plagued his thoughts, but the answers remained elusive.
With a heavy heart weighing him down, Gojo rose from the comfort of the couch and made his way towards the front door. The weight of his emotions pushed him to leave, to escape the haunting memories that seemed to linger within the walls of the apartment. His mind was consumed by a single thought - he needed to find you, to apologize before it was too late. Perhaps, just maybe, you would find it in your heart to forgive him.
However, little did Gojo know that time was not on his side. As he hurriedly made his way to the apartment he had given you, a place that was meant to be his girlfriend’s sanctuary, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that he had entrusted you with the key instead. The thought of seeing you again, of having the chance to make things right, gave him a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded him.
Arriving at the apartment, Gojo rushed up the stairs, his mind filled with a whirlwind of thoughts about what he would say when he finally saw you. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, grasping onto the spare keys that he had kept for emergencies. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, he approached the door that was supposed to lead him to you. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and opening the door.
However, instead of being greeted by an empty room, Gojo found himself standing in the midst of a completely transformed space. The apartment had undergone a complete renovation, a stark contrast to the memories he had held onto. But amidst the unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes were drawn to something that instantly caught his attention - clothes scattered across the floor. A shirt, two pairs of pants, and a bra lay haphazardly, creating a puzzle that Gojo couldn’t help but try to piece together.
Confusion furrowed his brow as he pondered the presence of the bra on the floor. If there was no sound of moaning or clapping, then it meant that you didn’t have anyone over, right? But the pants… they were definitely not yours. They were too wide, too different from your usual style. Gojo’s gaze swept the room, searching for answers, before he made his way through the apartment, his steps guided by an unexplainable instinct.
He stopped in front of a closed door, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it open, revealing a sight that shattered his heart into a million pieces. His eyes widened in disbelief as they landed on Geto, his best friend, lying in bed with you cradled in his arms. The sight of Geto’s upper body, partially exposed, showcased his muscular chest and abs, while your figure rested against him, your shoulders and neck adorned with small, telltale bruises. Both of you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the presence of another person standing by the door.
A mixture of shock, betrayal, and anger coursed through Gojo’s veins as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing. Why was Geto here? He had always been aware of Geto’s secret crush on you, but he had never expected his best friend to make a move, especially not with you. The pain in Gojo’s heart intensified as he saw you, the person he believed to be his and his alone, in someone else’s arms, covered in another person’s kisses and bruises.
Gojo stood there, his heart heavy with disbelief and heartbreak. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Was it too late? Was there no way to fix what he had done?
Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. It was his best friend, looking at him with a mix of concern and frustration. Gojo's eyes met his, and he could see the unspoken question in them.
"You gonna continue staring or what?" his best friend asked, his tone slightly teasing.
Gojo's emotions surged, and he couldn't hold back the words any longer. "You did it on purpose, didn't you? You waited for the moment she was vulnerable so you could swoop in and be her hero. All in the hope of leading her into bed."
His fists clenched, and he wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve. His best friend remained calm, his gaze steady. "I'm merely doing what you couldn't. I'm here for her, offering support and care in ways you never could, Satoru."
Gojo's anger flared, and he shouted, "What do you mean?!" But his best friend cut him off, his voice firm but gentle.
"Don't shout, she's had a tough night and deserves some rest," he said, covering you with a blanket.
"You act like you're some kind of savior. What gives you the right to step in and play hero in her life?"
His best friend sighed, meeting Gojo's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm doing it because she deserves genuine care and someone who will love her just the way she does."
Gojo's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "I love her just the way she does!"
"If you did," his best friend calmly replied, "you wouldn't have cheated on her multiple times and then left her for someone else."
The accusation hung heavily in the air, shattering any pretense of composure between the two friends. Gojo felt the weight of his best friend's words, realizing the depth of the hurt he had caused. The room seemed to echo with the fractured friendship and the complex emotions entangled in this unexpected confrontation.
"I never wanted things to turn out like this," Gojo confessed, his voice filled with regret. "What do you expect me to do now?"
His best friend's gaze hardened, his voice firm. "Face the consequences of your actions, Satoru. But understand this: she doesn't want anything to do with you now. Give up and let her find the happiness she deserves elsewhere."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Gojo struggled to find a response, a knot forming in his stomach. His best friend continued, his voice softer this time.
"She moved on, Satoru," he said, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and deception. "You broke her trust, and she's found someone who treats her with the respect and love she deserves. Don't complicate her life any further."
Gojo's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists as the realization hit him. The person beneath the blanket, blissfully unaware of the turmoil surrounding them, remained a symbol of the consequences of his actions.
"I messed up, I know that," Gojo admitted, his voice filled with remorse. "But I can't just give up on her."
His best friend's expression hardened. "Giving up isn't about abandoning her; it's about respecting her choices. She doesn't want you in her life anymore. Accept that and move forward."
"You had your chance, Satoru. Now it's time to let her go," his best friend said, his voice filled with finality.
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itsvelyria · 5 months
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"the moment the f1 boys realised you were the one"
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Charles Leclerc
being able to cry around you: charles has a bad habit of bottling everything up. it was three months into your relationship when he had a particularly bad race, a stroke of bad luck. he was met with pats on his back and mutters that he would do better. numbness flooding his veins, they did nothing to ease the anxiety in his chest. he met your eyes across the room and watched as you stepped closer. with extended arms, you'd told him to let it out. never once has anyone ever told him that before, and so he had instantly broken down, exhausted from having to hold it all together. there was nothing needed but your presence. he sobs messily into your shoulder and the next morning, he had wished that he'll always have you around.
Carlos Sainz
when he realised you knew him better than he did himself: "how did you know?" were his first words, when he came home one night, only to come face-to-face with a pair of Airpods on the nightstand, addressed to him. he had sorely needed a new pair after losing them on the plane but hadn't had the time to purchase them. "because i know you" was your answer, beaming up at him from the side, where you were preparing dinner. you had missed the deep look in his eyes, rambling on; first his sister's wedding anniversary present in the coat closet, then the watch his father had wanted mended for a while now all fixed. and there it was: that was the moment where carlos finally understood the fluttering in his heart.
Danny Ricciardo
making the best out of life: when you had agreed to go out with danny solely because he made life feel that much brighter, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you. you were always up for anything, the easygoing aura you carried with your being influencing him, especially when he had suggested sharing the singular umbrella left in the store — the unexpected downpour having caught you both off guard. nonetheless, you huddled under the umbrella, both your shoulders getting soaked the second you left the safety of the grocery store shelter. eyes meeting across the umbrella handle, you both break out into chuckles at your plain misfortune. that's when he realised — there was no one else he wanted to be stuck in a bad situation with.
George Russell
inside jokes: it was a small thing, minuscule even, the earliest memory of the joke being one of your first few dates, before you were even official. it was just a simple coincidence that the situation you were called for it. in the group dinner with your mutual friends, george's eyes had shot to yours, searching for the only being who could possibly understand him. and in that flash of a moment when his blue gaze met yours, your bodies had naturally leaned towards their other halves, giggles muffled into your hands. if your friends were surprised at the sudden laughter, he doesnt even notice, too preoccupied with how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight and how fast his heartbeat has gotten.
Lando Norris
shared comfortable silence: your boyfriend loved people, befriending strangers and great conversations. it all came easy to him, possibly due to growing up a middle child, he mirrored a little ray of sunshine. but as much as he adored socialising, lando found that he equally enjoyed quiet time with you, especially on lounge chairs by the beach while you flipped through your book, absolutely taken by the words. lando admired the expression fluttering across your features with each passing page. something strange settled in his tummy as he continued staring, something he could only allude to how peace might feel like. perhaps this is how life was meant to be lived, he thought.
Lewis Hamilton
sharing tattoo meanings: lewis has had a lot of art done on his body over the years and he's proud of all of them; memories and meanings forever part of him. with the orange glow of your nightlight at 3am, he watched as you traced the patterns on his skin, telling you stories and what each of them meant. you had soaked up the words, mesmerised by the deep lull of his voice as he opened up his heart to you. never has anyone been so interested in him as a person, all they wanted to know was his career and business and he appreciated it. to you, he was just a man — someone you wanted to know more about.
Max Verstappen
his pets greeting you: as the provider for his cats, he expected a touch more loyalty from the feline beings. still he remained seated, fixated on how jimmy and sassy nuzzled at your calves, the warmth of their tiny bodies against his legs previously lost. the silence was broken by the sound of grocery bags tossed on the kitchen counter as you stooped down to scratch their fuzzy chins. a light purr emanated from sassy while jimmy rolled over, also meowing in a bid for attention. his heart strangely light, he watched you indulge them like the spoiled brats they were. was it because of how much love was within you or the care you held for the things he held dear? either way, max couldn't tamp down the urge to cross the room and wrap you in his arms, much like you did with his pets now, the three little words in the back of his throat.
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anantaru · 3 months
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— ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ cw. riding, fem! reader
aventurine blinks, faltering as he always does whenever you called him yours— and even now, he finds himself vastly spellbound by how you're prancing your hands against the tensed muscles of his chest, kneading at his shoulders while you're on top of him.
boiling heat consumes you the moment he marks your skin with wet traces of his arousal and so did you, claim him equivalent to that, "say it again," he repeats his sentence, this time quieter, leaving it enlaced in a sigh.
you barely have time to react nor reply to him as he bottoms out, your body shaking when you cry out, writhing and collapsing your body against his own when aventurine repeats the action once more.
he thought he should fuck into you twice, catch you off guard for some extra spice, yeah? in fact, to him it's just for good measure, why not ask you something and then interrupt you with two, quick blows into your cunt, right? 
his palm was smoothing over the sore marks his grip left on your ass when he squeezes the flesh, letting the skin bounce beneath the hold of his hands. "ahh, never mind, dear. I guess you simply saying it isn't enough to me anymore," he squeezes your hips into him harder, burying his face in the scent of your fragrance hidden at your throat.
"better yet," aventurine continues as he slowly teases his tongue over your neck, presenting an affectionate sweep of his hand up your spine, "let me make you scream it instead, yeah?"
he wanted to move his fingers slow above your delicate skin— slow enough to make a spectacle out of every touch, to sweetly draw you to the same raw height of emotions where you could fuse into each other forever on end.
your lips part instantly as he pushes his hot tip into your hole, the feeling of intrusion making you actively wrap and shape around him. his cock split you perfectly, and the raw drag was edged with an unintentional roughness that nearly broke your body in half.
you both moan into each other with a sinuous roll of your hips taking his shaft deeper— a rough, broken groan escaping the man's throat as he slides you impossibly close into him, like he's actually frightened you'd leave him.
you enthusiastically greet his movements with your own, bask yourself on his touch when he only slides in deeper and deeper, closer and like you cannot get enough of each other. it's futile.
alas, you should have known that much— because looking back at this situation right now, your boyfriend aventurine wasn't someone you'd particularity address as a poster boy for harvesting patience, or poise, for that matter. 
at least when it came to you.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
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Now that Buddy Daddies is finished, I’m gonna say it: SPOILERS!
Buddy Daddies really is for the aces, aros, queerplatonic partners, and platonic life partners out there. 
I know, 100%  that there are going to be some people out there that are going to say, “See! It really was just queerbait all along” or some who are going to bemoan the fact that there were no declarations of romantic love or kiss or whatever. I’m sure this part right here:
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Miri: “Didn’t you slip out yesterday to go drinking with a girl again?” 
Caused some frowns and I do get it. Because of this, the queerbait and Kazuki and Rei are just friends dialogue will continue and follow the series around. But, this episode has made it clear that Kazuki and Rei love not only Miri, but each other as well.
They are a work partners (相棒 - aibou)
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They are partners raising a child together. (相方 - aikata).
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They’ve moved (I’m pretty sure their diner is in Okinawa for reasons I’ll get to in another post), they’ve opened a business together, one which has a part of Kazuki’s last name in it (来栖 - Kurusu is his last name, the 栖 (su) part of his name means “nest.”), and Rei’s words to his father: Miri, Kazuki, and I share a bond stronger than blood. 
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They are a family. They love each other.
Of course, friends can be a part of a family. Friends can love each other, but there are also reasons why people who are in situations like co-parenting, queerplatonic relationships, platonic life partnerships, and etc. don’t refer to their bonds as friendships and the people they are co-parenting or in a partnership with as their friends, but as words that give some space for those grey areas in-between.
Friendships are strong, deep, and beautiful. Platonic love is love and is powerful.
But, there are definitely still different sets of expectations and boundaries that come with friendships vs. other relationship dynamics. 
Kazuki and Rei’s situation falls outside of the usual friendship expectations and boundaries and sits somewhere between that, family and partnership.
I know this topic has been talked to death about. But, I felt like I needed to write about and address it one final time since Buddy Daddies has come to an end (though, who knows about a potential Daughter Daddies!) Especially after Miri’s line to Kazuki. (I feel I could also go into open relationship dynamics, polyamorous relationships, and etc. but that feels like it would be derailing). 
Basically, I just wanted to get one final post out on this. I was very pleased with this ending episode. It made my heart so happy and warm, and I know I’ve said it before, but this series really speaks to me as someone who is aroace. Aroace characters and our relationship dynamics have basically no rep, so even if this series wasn’t intended to be written with a queerplatonic relationship dynamic in mind, they ended up writing a beautiful depiction of one that makes me and what I would want from a relationship of some kind, finally feel seen.
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catgirl-kaiju · 2 months
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something worth pointing out in the case of Tumblr CEO @photomatt 's statement regarding predstrogen is the very clear side stepping of the conversation being had. the ask he chose to respond to as part of his statement was asking about tumblr's transmisogyny problem, and what he is commenting on is tumblr's transphobia problem.
transmisogyny is certainly related to transphobia, but the two are not the same. i've seen plenty of trans folks who are guilty of transmisogyny and have even been harassed by such individuals on this very website. he repeatedly refers to transphobia and accusations of tumblr staff being transphobes throughout the statement, but never once brings up transmisogyny. perhaps he is unfamiliar with the term, but he could look it up and read up on it before responding to a question directly asking about it. he is very clearly not doing his due diligence in addressing these concerns.
he mentions tumblr having "LGBT+ including trans people on staff," but this is not especially helpful in assessing tumblr's transmisogyny problem. based on this we don't know how many trans people, whether or not there any transfem or TMA folks (who might understand the nature of transmisogyny better than TME people) on staff, what positions these queer people hold in the company, or whether or not any of tumblr's queer employees are on the moderation team. and it's understandable why some of these specifics are left out; you don't want to put any staff members in danger of being doxxed or harassed, especially if they're vulnerable marginalized people. however, it seems to me a gross oversight to not mention if there are any trans folks working on the moderation team.
i think it's also a huge misstep to focus on predstrogen so singularly when the conversation about her account being nuked is part of a larger conversation about transmisogyny. what this reveals, too, is transmisogyny playing an active role in the decision to ban her for life. one of the aspects of transmisogyny is viewing transfem folks as especially and uniquely dangerous. i'd like @photomatt to ask himself if he would have taken "threats" like the one cited as seriously if they came from a cis person or a TME trans person. really reflect on that, Matt. i also put "threat" in scare quotes here because, frankly, it's pretty clear that said comment is a cartoonish and outlandish example of violence used to demonstrate that the intent to harm is not literal. i do this all the time both on here and in real life. telling a friend i'm going to "maul them to death" over a minor annoyance is a comedic way of expressing frustration in a way that communicates it's not actually a big deal. saying something like "i want them to explode after falling down the stairs when trying to evade a falling piano full of knives" about a public figure or someone who is negatively affecting your life works as a way of demonstrating the intensity of your feelings while not veering into territory where it sounds like you're literally planning an assassination attempt. if you're reading this, Matt, i hope you can begin to understand the difference between something like:
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and a real actual harassment, like:
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y'know, all actual comments and posts i've received on this website, and reported with detailed explanations for why i'm reporting them but never heard back from the moderation team about the situation. i have no idea if anything was ever done about any of these people sending me bigoted violent messages because no one ever does follow-up. the only time i've ever received follow-up on a report was when i reported an account for promoting self-harm in the form of anorexia. that's it. one time in the over a decade i've been on this website.
how does all of this sit with you, Matt?
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delulujuls · 24 days
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loverboy | ln4
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hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.
anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!
i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny
summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading
warnings: none
pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris
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Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.
The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.
"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."
She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.
As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.
"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."
Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.
"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."
The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.
Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.
Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.
Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.
Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.
"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"
"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."
The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.
"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"
When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.
"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"
Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.
"We?"
"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"
The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.
"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"
Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.
"Why, have you already missed me?"
Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.
"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"
Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.
"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."
Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.
"see you then, darling"
The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.
At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.
"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."
"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.
"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."
The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.
"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."
"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."
"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.
"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.
Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.
"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."
He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.
"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."
"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.
Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.
When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.
"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"
"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."
She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.
"Lando, nice to meet you."
"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."
She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.
Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.
"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."
"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"
"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."
Y/N laughed and shook her head.
"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."
When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.
She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.
"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."
Y/N chuckled at his words.
"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."
"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.
They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.
"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"
He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.
"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."
She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.
Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.
"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."
She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.
"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.
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meaningofaeons · 11 months
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable
⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 3.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (sampo, gepard), fem!reader (jing yuan, you're referred to as 'lady'), reader is emotionally constipated or just kinda stoic as the title suggests, I guess you could say tsundere?? mostly fluff -w- ⊹ part 2 here!
sorry for the delay on new writing!! honestly I've had a bit to do around the house and the inspiration hasn't been inspiring Σ(;Φ ω Φ) if you want to send in a request, feel free! I could use some new ideas ♡(ミ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ミ)ノ thanks for the support!
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⊹ Gepard Landau
You honestly didn't have much to think about the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.
Aside from the due respect and mild admiration that just about everyone in Belobog held for him and his military group, you didn't have much else to say. The two of you had never even spoken.
The only connection you could possibly have to him was via his sister, Serval Landau. She was your friend (a tentative word for your situation, you surmise) and would often have him over at her store.
You also tended to lounge about the Neverwinter Workshop ("hanging out", Serval would call it, but you begged to differ), but you had never really paid him much mind, and you assumed he had paid you the same.
Serval's favorite nickname for you is "lounging stray" due to the way you came in and out as you pleased, staying only for food and rest when it was available.
The most you recall interacting with the imposing man was a hesitant wave when he had entered the shop while Serval was out.
After all, it would have been quite rude to completely ignore him—though, honestly, you never cared much for politeness, so you had always mulled that incident over in your head. Why had you greeted him?
About a week later, you were mildly surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in Serval's hands from Eversummer Florist.
It wasn't exactly an unusual assumption to make that the down-to-earth rock-and-roll enthusiast would have her share of admirers, but they were typically more forthcoming with their affections from what you'd observed.
But then, upon spotting you, she promptly shoved them into your arms, announcing that they had been addressed to you, not her.
You hadn't felt your face shift that much in years, nor had you ever experienced that level of shock before.
"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Serval touted, tuning her guitar on the side with a smirk playing on her lips. Her tone was drawn out, knowing, as if this were some elaborate prank she was in on.
"Wow, Ball Peonies, even? What an expensive spread! Lucky Y/N!"
You didn't even spare her a glance as you took your usual seat in her workshop, thumbing one of the petals with mildly intrigued contemplation.
In your rush to lounge about the workshop and ignore your friend's loud teasing, you failed to notice Gepard at his sister's side, nor the way his ears turned red and he hurried to hush Serval.
"I don't get it," you murmured at last, both siblings' heads whipping over to you. "I don't talk to anyone. Except you, that is."
"Well, I didn't send them. Sorry, my little stray, but as much as I adore you, it's not in that way!"
You gave Serval an unamused raise of your brow, then huffed, mumbling a 'whatever' as you lay on the windowsill in the corner of the shop.
However, that pair of blue eyes sneakily noted that your attention was still taken with the flowers, far from your usual routine of pulling out your phone to scroll.
Eventually, you held them on your chest, deigning to stare out the window as you began drifting off into a half-conscious nap. Your rest, however, was awoken by the sound of loud whispering. Serval noticed the unimpressed look on your face and laughed, clapping her hands together before patting Gepard on the back, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. His face was bright red.
"Well, I gotta head out and run some errands! Keep Y/N company for me, huh, Geppie? They can get lonely."
You chose to ignore that last bit, raising your hand and waving at your friend who practically flew out the door.
An awkward silence settled over the room, which miffed you a bit. What did you have to feel awkward about? This had happened before with other people.
Even then, you weren't keen on breaking it. It seemed the Captain had other plans, though.
"Um..." Gepard spoke up from across the workshop, standing just a bit uncomfortably as he shifted from foot to foot. You glanced over your shoulder at him from where you lay, waiting for him to speak. "Sorry about Serval. She can be a bit much."
"I know," you replied simply, unable to meet his eye for some reason. "I'm in here a lot."
"I know," Gepard echoed. Then, his face went back to tomato-red. "Um, I mean, I see you around a lot in here whenever I visit. Not that I'm intentionally staring at you, or anything of that sort! I just notice—"
"It's okay, I got what you meant."
"Right! Right." The Captain shut himself up, thorough mortification making its way back to his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "S-Sorry, uh, for rambling."
"It's fine."
Well, this was getting painful.
You stunned yourself momentarily when you opened your mouth to speak back first.
"So, uh... How's being Captain and everything?" you murmured, almost too quiet for Gepard to hear. When he realized you had spoken first, his face brightened just a bit, though he still appeared to be fighting the humiliation off his face from his earlier verbal blunder.
"Well, how much would you like to hear about?"
You shrugged. "Anything, I guess. Got any cool stories from the front lines?"
The blonde man smiled, taking the chance to tentatively move closer, pulling over Serval's stool and taking a seat.
"Well..."
About ten minutes later, Serval had decided to spare her poor brother from any more awkwardness, completely sure that the workshop would be thick with silence due to his bashfulness and your nonchalance.
To her surprise, though, she heard muffled voices from within. Serval opened the door as carefully and quietly as she could, peeking her head in just enough to see a sight she never thought she'd see.
You were smiling, even laughing a bit, engaging in conversation about Gepard's duties and your own daily activities (even if there were little of those) from your place on the sill. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself too, gesturing with his hands as he talked up his own underlings' achievements in battle.
The eldest Landau watched for only a moment longer before shutting the door softly.
"I should go get something to eat... give them a little space."
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⊹ Jing Yuan
You liked to call your relationship to the General of the Luofu strictly professional at most.
To call it anything more, in your mind, would be disrespect of the highest order to the man who has defended the fleet for centuries.
Besides, you didn't know if you were exactly capable of anything beyond that. Even your limited friends agreed that you were just about as stoic as one could get.
You frequently heard of their debates with other workers within the Seat of Divine Foresight even as you worked—who was more difficult to approach, you or the General himself?
You scoffed to yourself whenever your so-called "friends" argued that you were, in fact, harder to speak to.
What's so wrong with being professional? If anything, you should be telling them off for gossiping in the workplace.
Still, you couldn't exactly argue with them.
Being the right-hand of the General was enough for you to learn his mannerisms even over a short time, though now, after serving at his side for several decades, you could confidently say he was far less intimidating than everyone made him out to be.
Not that you cared, of course. Strictly professional, you told yourself. His mannerisms had nothing to do with you unless they affected work.
Even with your indifference, though, the General was being... odd lately.
Jing Yuan let out an unabashed yawn as he slumped into his chair, tugging at his hair as he polished off the last of his paperwork.
For once, you thought to yourself with a huff of amusement, going through your own papers at an impressive speed. Read, approve or deny, sign, move on.
Considering he hadn't skimped on his own work, there was no real reason for you to be giving yourself early onset carpal tunnel as you typically did, but you figured it would be best to finish the work as soon as possible anyhow.
It meant less work tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, for not only you but the other Luofu staff as well.
"...ey."
Your brain tuned out all other noise as you moved past yet another proposal, flicking to the next page of your increasingly shrinking stack.
"Lady Y/N. Hello?"
You ignored the growling within your stomach. After this is done, you thought to yourself, I'll treat myself to a meal at home.
"Lady Y/N."
You jumped nearly ten feet out of your seat at the low voice whispering in your ear, clapping a hand over the side of your head as red-hot mortification set in. You glanced to your side to spot the culprit—none other than your General, Jing Yuan.
Had he just whispered into your ear?! The feeling of his warm breath still lingered.
"General!" you shouted, taking a deep breath as you tried to reel back your attitude and present yourself with decorum, as always. "I am working on these proposals, so if you could please refrain from pulling pranks, it would be much appreciated."
Jing Yuan gave you a wry smile, raising his hands innocently.
"Is part of your job description not answering to me?" he asked unfeignedly, golden eyes twinkling. "I called your name about ten times."
"Well, yes, but..." You raised a brow a moment later. "Surely not ten. I heard my name a total of twice."
"So you were listening." You heaved a sigh. Ever stubborn, he was. "Does that mean you were consciously ignoring me? My, the gall, Lady Y/N."
"Not at all, General," you assured. "Only absorbed in my duties. Now, do you need something of me?"
Jing Yuan tapped his chin, settling into the seat next to you and stretching out. He didn't get too comfortable, though, you discerned. Was he planning to head out for the night?
"Well, yes, I suppose I do. I'm sure you'll only listen if it's a direct order from me, after all."
"Of course, General. I am at your beck and call." He chose to ignore the edge of sarcasm in your voice as you resumed your proposals, trying to finish as many as you could before he announced his task.
"Lady Y/N, I'd be delighted if you would join me for a meal. Anywhere of your choosing, and it will be my treat."
"Right, of course. It will be done, General," you mused half-heartedly, before your froze in your tracks, hand stilling midway through a signature. "...Wh—"
"Fantastic. Then I will await you at the door," Jing Yuan smiled again, and you felt yourself welling up with exasperation at the cockiness displayed in it. "Please don't keep me waiting too long, Lady Y/N. Those proposals can always wait one more day, but I am short on time myself."
You were about ready to protest, dropping your pen as you nearly rose to your feet. Your face was hot.
"General, I—!"
"You wouldn't think of backing out after agreeing so openly, would you?" the white-haired man teased, and then, after contemplating for a moment, he held out a hand. "In fact, why don't we depart right now? Just so I can be sure you won't get absorbed in doing more advance work."
He had completely trapped you. You furrowed your brow in disbelief, and then heaved a deep, long sigh. Finally, after leaving him to stand and await your decision for just a few moments longer, you took his hand.
"Very well. But General, if I may..."
"Of course, my dear."
You flushed again, but remained steadfast in your words.
"To make up for this trickery, please do not skip out on your paperwork again."
Jing Yuan's low, rumbly laughter caused you to look away, lest your feelings show on your face. He still did not let go of your hand.
"I suppose that is only fair. You have a deal, Lady Y/N."
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⊹ Sampo Koski
You would be completely remiss to allow anyone to refer to you and Sampo as acquaintances, much less friends.
Although the two of you had grown up fairly close, he allowed you no clemency from his constant scams.
It turned into more of a game for him as time passed, though—your natural stoicism and good head on your shoulders didn't allow any of his jabs or tricks to pull through.
That was perhaps what kept him stuck like glue to your side all these years, though... The fact that you were the one person he couldn't quite swindle.
Not that he actually wanted to, anyhow.
As much as Sampo was a slimy businessman in the eyes of pretty much everyone, he didn't seek a profit from someone as close as you. Well, not unless he did you a favor first, of course, but that's basic reciprocation.
You, on the other hand, found yourself perplexed as of late.
Sure, you had known Sampo for practically your whole life, but getting close to someone or being close by birth didn't make you any less inclined to cut them off if they interfered with your life to a degree that you found to be annoying.
You enjoyed the predictable, the mundanity of your daily life working as a trainee doctor under Natasha. You didn't need anyone in your life who might throw a wrench into the ordinary you currently enjoyed.
So why was Sampo the exception?
It was a fairly typical, ordinary, boring evening when you walked into the clinic—12am sharp, just as Natasha had requested of you. You were frankly quite lucky that she didn't ask more of you, but you supposed she was already pushing her own ability to ask favors of you by requesting you watch the overnight patients while she rested.
You didn't mind, of course. You'd always been a bit of a night owl, especially with the somewhat perpetual darkness of the Underworld thanks to Belobog looming over top of you.
Not to mention, you and Sampo had always spent most of your time together in the evenings anyways, the nighttime routine well suited to both of your sleeping schedules.
You felt a twinge of annoyance shoot through you at the thought of the blue haired man, and quickly placed a hand to your forehead between bandage changings for the patient on the table.
There he was again. Sampo, Sampo, Sampo!
Though you could usually push him out of your mind without a second thought, it was beyond you why he was suddenly popping into your brain more nowadays.
Sometimes it was a mere, 'I wonder what Sampo is up to right now. Not more trouble, I hope.'
Sometimes it was something more bordering worry, and those passing thoughts irritated you the most. What did you care? If he got hurt, it would likely be justified in the wake of one of his scams.
You could rationalize those ideas with the notion of not wanting more work at the clinic should he get injured, but even that was weak. Sampo deigned to avoid Natasha for his own wounds, not wanting to burden the leader of Wildfire, likely more out of fear than actual selflessness.
Still, though—
"Heeeey, Y/N! Miss me?"
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
"What do you want, Koski?" Your tone was flat, not even sparing him a glance as you moved to your next patient. Changing bandages again, a simple routine that could hopefully keep your mind occupied this time.
"So cold..." You could hear the beginnings of a pout on his lips, finding yourself sighing irritably. "I came to see you, after all!"
Your hands paused for a moment, stilling. A minute tremble in his voice. You whipped your head around to focus your sharp eyes on him, and he winced back, his typical happy-go-lucky smile faltering.
"H-Hey, what's the matter? Helping Miss Nat out with some late night patients aga—"
"Show me," you ordered, finishing the bandage you were currently on and standing up, moving towards Sampo with your arms crossed. He backed up, hands raised in surrender.
"Whaddya mean, I'm— Ouch!"
The conman couldn't help the yelp he let out when his back made contact with the wall, wincing painfully as his wound hit the hard surface. You raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Shirt off, Sampo Koski. Now."
"Woah, woah, at least take me to dinner first!"
Your glare worsened into something stormy as you pointed at the chair nearby.
"Sit down, shirt off, now. Don't make me repeat myself again."
With the face of a wounded puppy, Sampo slunk over to the chair, doing as you asked. He hissed through his teeth as the cloth of his outerwear dragged against the wound, the layers giving way to a deep trio of gashes on the skin of his back. Even with all your medical training, you found yourself cringing at the sight.
"So, Doc, what's the prognosis?" the man laughed weakly, still trying with his jokes even through his pain.
When you remained quiet, his smile fell, and he turned to look at you. If it were anyone else, you might've mistaken that frown for concern.
"Y/N? You... okay?"
"Be quiet," you huffed out at last, grabbing your rolling table of medical supplies and bringing it around, pulling out a chair as you began to inspect the wounds. "What was it this time?"
"Ah, you know, same old, same old! Just some disgruntled robots, not too keen on letting me make a profit with their buddy's parts!"
"You're an idiot."
The usual Sampo would've shot back with some witty or flirty one-liner that was sure to earn him a smack over the head, but when he heard the slight tremble to your voice, he decided it'd be best to keep his mouth shut for now.
"This'll sting. Don't shout, or you'll wake the other patients."
He bit his lip, expecting a harsh serving of antiseptic, but your hands were... gentler this time. You tenderly cleaned the wound with a water-soaked cloth, and though it did sting a bit, it was far nicer than your usual tough treatments from the ire he earned getting injured all the time.
Soon after, he felt you gently patting the wound down with a soft towel, bandages following soon after that you reached around his torso to wrap around him.
Then, you reached for the pack of painkillers.
Sampo was quick to laugh nervously, pushing the pack away when you held it out to him along with a glass of water.
"Hey, hey! Thanks, Y/N, but I really shouldn't be using Miss Natasha's painkillers. Besides, with how sweetly and tenderly you just patched me up, I'm feeling better already!" he fake-swooned, clasping his hands together like a maiden in love to ham up his act.
You were far from impressed.
"You're a bad liar, Sampo Koski," you scoffed, shoving the water and pills past his defensive hands. "Take it. I can't convince you to stay here and actually rest for a change, so it's the least you can do."
When he still looked apprehensive, you swallowed your pride, lowering your gaze and averting your eyes as your face went just the tiniest bit pink.
"...For me."
Sampo honestly thought he misheard you for a moment, but he finally, hesitantly, took the medicine you offered. You led him over to the door, and he laughed breathlessly, finally giving you another smile as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on.
"All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair, and take these. Just for you."
The conman cackled and ran all the way down the alleyways as you shouted after him, fist raised. Once he had disappeared, though, you let it fall to your side, sighing again.
This time, there was a hint of fondness... but that was something else you would be remiss to admit to.
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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The Truth Behind It All
Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.
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The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 
She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.
Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.
The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 
“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 
She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.
“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.
“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.
“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”
“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”
He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 
“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”
“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”
“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”
“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”
“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.
“What, love?”
“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 
Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.
A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.
Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.
“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.
“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.
“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”
“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”
“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”
“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”
“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.
Oh how unfair it all was.
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
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Longing Glances and Whispered Confessions (LN4)
Summary: In which, in the darkness of the night, Lando Norris loves Y/n Fewtrell, only for the pain of their secrecy to plague them in the daylight.
Warnings: language, a shit ton of really sad fights, the break up scene is unlike anything ive ever written, i feel so bad for y’all, this shit hurt my heart
Note: plz forgive me with the part 2 i am promising you
Note (part 2): also i think I’m going to start adding lyrics and pictures at the beginning of my longer, more heartbreaking imagines (so basically everything i write) that describe the situation in a nutshell. I just think it makes it more dramatic and poetic 🤭 also also this imagine wasn’t written along the lines of illicit affairs i just listened to it while i wrote and took inspiration from it but feel free to listen to it while you read! Thats why i linked it
UPDATE: i posted part 2 queens
“And that’s the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and longing stares, it’s born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times” - Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs
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“Y/n?” Lando’s voice traveled through the hallway, meeting her ears in the kitchen.
“Yeah?” She yelled back, eyes lingering on the wall in front of her in concentration of his next words.
“Can you come tell me if this skin on Halo is stylish?” He giggled, eliciting a giggle from her as she paddered softly into his gaming room, coming into view of his camera and allowing the chat to go wild with her presence.
She bent down, arm leaning on his shoulder as she inspected the animatronic, “I think it’s cool, yeah!”
Lando’s eyes twinkled up at her, “Really?! Your brother thinks it’s ugly.”
She reared around when Max came into the room, “Fewtrell! Don’t be mean!”
His hip popped out and he stared at her blankly, “Y/n, first of all, your last name is Fewtrell too, so I’m not sure why you’re calling me that. It doesn’t have the same effect. Second of all, it is ugly. I don’t care if that’s mean.”
Lando scoffed from behind her, but went quiet when her small hand squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner, “Don’t be discouraged, Lan. If you think it’s cute, then that’s all that matters.”
Again, his eyes poured out love for her. His body buzzed and his cheeks warmed under her smile, something that visited him in his dreams at night. His head tilted, mind glazing over at the way she reassured him, supported him. He knew he was crazy for going this deep over her words on a gaming skin, but that was the way he was with her. Secretly obsessed.
Nevertheless, her touches were fleeting and she was exiting the room with her brother, the two in deep discussion about her calling him by their last name.
Lando, on the other hand, was left to address the chat’s exposing messages.
ln4andop81
He’s so in love with her when will anybody realize it
Lando couldn’t believe how wasted Y/n was. As she stumbled to his car, he got out quickly, not realizing how much she had drunk when he wasn’t there to stop her.
“LAN!” She yelled, arms wrapping around his neck when he got close enough.
He chuckled, dragging her body over to the passenger seat and gently lowering her into it. He leaned against the door, smiling at her dazed demeanor, “Fun night?”
She nodded, eyes wandering around, “Yeah, except I missed you.”
Even her drunk words made his heart beat faster than normal. He knew she was impaired, she didn’t understand what she was saying or what it meant, but he still took it and held on. He had admired her so heavily from afar that any inference of requited love had him in a death grip.
Nodding and walking back around to his side, he got in and started the engine again. From his turned around position, arm splayed against the back of her seat as he backed out, she giggled, “Anyone ever told you how hot you are?”
He choked on air, mind spinning out at the question she had blurted out so easily. His lungs seemingly constricted, loss of breath prevalent as he stopped the car.
With his trunk sticking out, Lando looked at her deeply, “What?”
“You’re hot. I’ve always thought that. That and about what it’d be like to be with you. Always wondered about that. Always wanted that.” She replied, laughter continuing as if she wasn’t destroying the reality Lando had built up in his head to protect himself from the feelings he held for his best friend’s little sister.
He shook his head, resuming his prior actions, “You’re drunk, Y/n.”
Her singsong voice replied, “Drunk words are sober thoughts!”
He drove her home, helping her into bed and making sure she was okay before turning out the lights and driving back to his apartment. Throughout it all though, he wondered if drunk words really were sober thoughts.
The morning after, Lando’s mind was eating at itself over Y/n’s comments the night before. He had been so agitated that he drove to her house, pounding on her door impatiently.
When she opened it, looking incredibly hungover, he stormed in and paced the space of her living room before turning around and coming to a stand still.
“Are you okay?” She questioned, eyebrows furrowed at his neurotic movements.
“No, you said things last night and I need to know if they’re true.” He tried, voice very clearly pleading.
She sat down on the couch, staring up at him confusedly, “What’d I say?”
“You said that you wondered what it’d be like to be with me. You said you’d always wanted that.” He said forcefully, pacing starting again as his nerves stopped his ability to look at her.
Her heart stopped, wishing that she hadn’t gotten drunk, called her brother’s best friend, and proceeded to spill everything she felt for him. Similarly, she couldn’t look at him either, too scared for the reaction he would have to her reply.
“Yes, that is true.” She heard his steps stop, however she didn’t see him or what he was doing until he came and sat down next to her.
She was on the verge of tears, ready for a calm rejection from him, but was surprised when his hands gently took her face and turned it to look up at him.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, eyes searching hers, but only seeing astonishment.
“Yeah,” She said back, a smile breaking out when he leaned down and captured her lips with his.
It was slow, passionate as the two learned of the feelings the other had suppressed for just as long as they had. It was heartbreaking, the way they had missed time to be together out of the fear of losing the other, but they were kissing each other and things were finally fitting.
When he pulled back, hands still cradling her jaw, he smiled at her and she beamed back.
Whispers of how much they loved each other lingered in the air as he led her upstairs to her bedroom.
Max was always upfront about how against he was of the idea of Y/n and Lando. Promptly, Y/n and Lando decided it was best to keep everything a secret until time passed and they grew certain of their future together.
The only problem was that, from the start, they knew there would never be an end.
That complicated things. The uncertainty and confusion over when they would tell Max warranted an overwhelming amount of fights. Fights that took place in the small time they had to spend together.
“CAN’T YOU JUST SEE WHERE I’M COMING FROM?!” She yelled at him, hands flailing around with a face so disappointed in her boyfriend, it pained him to see.
“I DO! I DO SEE WHERE YOU’RE COMING FROM, BUT WE HAVE TO BE REALISTIC, Y/N! I MEAN, SHIT, AM I THE ONLY SANE ONE IN THIS RELATIONSHIP?” His words cut her soul, the man she loved judging her character after having told her how it was one of the things he loved most about her.
She scoffed, arms crossing over her chest in a physical plea for protection from his cruel, strategic insults, “FUCK YOU, LANDO.”
His hands flew out by his sides, an exacerbated sigh leaving his mouth, “GET OVER YOURSELF!”
She shook her head, it falling down exhaustedly, “I’m so fucking over this.”
He laughed dryly, “What? You want to break up now?”
She huffed, stomping her foot on the ground, “NO! I JUST WANT YOU TO LOVE ME AND TELL ME WHEN YOU’LL DO IT UNASHAMED!”
He stared at her, eyes searching hers for answers that were reasonable, “Y/n, you know I love you and you know I can’t give you a timeline of when the public, especially your brother, will accept us.”
She turned away, wiping the tears that had fallen down her face, “I’m so fucking exhausted of this. It’s been six months, Lando. And I’ve loved you for so much longer. It’s been years of having to hide how I feel about you and now that I have it, I still can’t show it.”
His presence loomed behind her, hands falling onto her shoulders softly before his lips kissed the skin, “I know, baby, and I’m so sorry. I truly am. For everything, the fight and this feeling, I’m sorry.”
She turned back around, body being held by him, “I know you are. I know this isn’t what you want. I’m sorry for that too, but, Lan,” She trailed off, his nodding taking place.
“I know, I know.” He assured, signaling that he understood how sick she was of pretending like there wasn’t anything going on between them.
She laid her head on his chest, murmuring, “When will it change?”
Truthfully, neither of them were sure they would ever know.
Parties were the hardest. Seeing Lando flirt with these beautiful women had Y/n throwing back drinks so quickly, it could be designated as a sport. However, this time, her boyfriend was quick to stop her from continuing, only allotting for a tipsiness to take over.
With Deja Vu, Lando drove her back to her house, except this time, he stayed in her bed. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist in the darkness of the night, she spoke, “Why do you have to do it in front of me?”
He kissed the top of her head, “Do what?”
She separated herself from him, moving to sit up and let her legs dangle over the side of the bed. He followed her movements, “Flirt with other girls.”
He nodded, surprised at the topic. His words took a moment to form in his head, and even when they did, he dreaded saying them out loud, “You know, I have to keep up the image. I can’t start dodging women’s advances. It would look too suspicious.”
She exhaled a breath, getting up fully and walking over to the wall to turn the lights on, “So, what? You just eye fuck other people so obnoxiously right in my fucking face?”
He let his chin meet his chest, “I don’t have the energy to have another fight with you.”
She groaned, “I’m not asking you to have a fight with me, Lando. I’m asking you to explain to me why you have to shove this shit down my throat.”
Lando stood abruptly from the bed and yelled, “I JUST FUCKING DID!”
She shook her head, “NO, YOU FUCKING DIDN’T! YOU GAVE ME A SHIT EXCUSE FOR A SHITTY SITUATION. OWN UP TO ONE FUCKING MISTAKE IN YOUR LIFE, LANDO. FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”
He rolled his eyes, “OH, GIVE ME A BREAK! YOU KNOW I OWN UP TO MY MISTAKES WHEN IT’S WARRANTED!”
Her eyes bulged, “SO, BORDERLINE CHEATING IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ISN’T A MISTAKE TO YOU?! DOESN’T WARRANT AN APOLOGY?”
Lando scoffed loudly, heels of his hands coming to dig into his eyes, “I’m so fucking over it. You know I hate having to entertain them. You know I do.”
“Do I?” She challenged, staring right at him when he let his gaze wander to hers.
His mouth stood agape, “You think I want to cheat on you?”
She shook her head in return, “I don’t fucking know at this point, Lando. It’s awfully convenient that we have to stay private according to you just as all these women begin to throw themselves at you.”
“I’M NOT SOME MAN WHORE, JESUS CHRIST!” He yelled, pushing past her and walking toward her front door.
Clad in gray sweatpants and no shirt, he shoved on the hoodie he had left strewn across her couch when they first came in, “I’m leaving.”
She laughed, “Oh, what? I find out what the fuck you’re doing behind my back and you run away? Perfect!”
His hand on the door knob, keys in the other, he forcefully turned around and yelled, “NO! I’M NOT FUCKING RUNNING OUT WHEN YOU’VE CAUGHT ME. YOU HAVEN’T BECAUSE I’M NOT DOING THAT SHIT BEHIND YOUR BACK. YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU. LEARN TO BELIEVE IN THAT AND THEN COME FUCKING TALK TO ME!”
He slammed the door shut on his way out, definitely waking up some neighbors in the process. Y/n stared at the white paint, it’s continuous chipping off the wood annoying her, and cried. Cried like she had lost him all over again and cried because he brought up an eye opening point.
She didn’t believe that he loved her.
And she never had.
Y/n’s persistent knocking had Lando opening his door aggravatedly.
“We need to talk.” She said authoritatively, walking through the threshold without any permission.
He scoffed at her behavior, eyes rolling as he watched her retreat further into his apartment.
“Alright, about what?” He asked, his arms coming to tangle against his chest.
She turned around, looking at him sympathetically, a look so contrasting to the fiery one she had shot him throughout their fight the night before that he was reminded of how much he cared for her. That look had started it all, the adoration and yearning in her eyes that had pulled him in and refused to let him go. His eyebrows knitted together, head tilting as he willed the tears in his eyes away.
“What are we doing?” She said, clearly shocked over the trajectory of their relationship.
His mind froze, “I… don’t understand.”
She mirrored the cocking of his head, “Lando, ever since we got together, all we’ve done is fought. The love we share doesn’t amount to anything when it comes to how this has worked out. It doesn’t make sense, it never did. We were never supposed to work together.”
Was she really doing what he thought she was doing?
He shook his head, “Y/n, what are you going on about? Baby, I lov-”
She interrupted him quickly and tearfully, “Don’t call me baby. Please. Because of you, I’m a mess and an idiotic fool. I’ve ruined myself over and over again for you, and it never seems to be enough. I give and I give and I give, and nothing ever ends up meaning something. I’m sick and tired of sneaking around, using a different perfume when I’m with you so that no one can smell me on you, taking different streets so the paparazzi doesn’t see me leave your place. I’m sick of taking small looks from you when other girls get your full attention. I’m over being second to everybody else when I know I deserve better. My love for you isn’t enough for the pile of lies and gaslighting I’ve put myself through.”
Lando’s eyes searched hers for any kind of hesitation or regret, but all he found was an unwanted amount of tears and looks of exhaustion. He couldn’t believe the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with had gone on like this for so long and he never knew. It was as if he was waking up now, realizing just how much he had pushed her with his fears and just how late he was to save it all.
When he didn’t respond, she took a deep breath, wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks, and continued, “I can’t do this with you anymore. I won’t give you the typical it’s not you, it’s me. You don’t deserve that. I can’t do this with you anymore because it’s not worth it anymore. All the pain I feel, I constantly feel, has outweighed whatever this was. For my own sanity, I can’t be with you any longer.”
When he spoke, Lando wasn’t expecting to find his voice so broken, wet with the beginning emotions of unrequited love, “But, it has to be, Y/n. Your love for me has to be enough. My love for you is enough. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
She shook her head, swallowing thickly as she looked down at her shoes, “No, Lan, because my actions never made you doubt the love I had for you. Yours did. The constant shutting down when I asked when we could tell Max, the flirting with other women, the ignoring me when I was around you in a room full of people. That was the gradual journey that I was forced to embark on because I wanted you so bad. But, last night, after you told me to come talk to you when I started believing how you felt toward me, I realized that that day would never come. I don’t even imagine myself understanding the feelings you have toward me. If anything, come to me when you learn how to love me publicly.”
Lando reached out for her, but it only pushed her closer to the door, “This can’t be it, Y/n. I didn’t wait years for this to happen, only it to end this way. Please, there has to be something I can do.”
His pleading increased the tears falling from both their eyes, a painful reminder of the deep scar forming on their hearts, “No, Lando. There isn’t. That’s why I’m here and telling you what I am. Trust me,” She took a step forward, hand rubbing the skin of his cheekbone while the other splayed across his jawline, “If there was a way for this to be fixed, I would tell you. Realizing we don’t work is one of the worst heartbreaks of my life, but it’s life, right?”
His eyes closed at her touch, “But, what’s life without you?”
His whispering broke any semblance of her soul as she whispered back, “That’s what we both need to find out.”
Torturously, at the end of her sentence, the warmth of her palms was disappearing from his face and the grave coldness was returning. When he opened his eyes, he found the love of his life lingering next to the door, ready to leave him and the life he thought they would build together.
“What happens if we both find out that life without each other isn’t something we can sustain? What if we miss each other?” He tried. Anything to keep her for a second longer. Anything to get her to stay.
She shrugged, wiping a hand over her face to dry it, “I don’t know, Lando, but I think we won’t have to find out. I think this is for the best.”
Again, she sent him that gaze he fell in love with all those years ago before she walked out.
So ironic that that would be the last thing he remembered from the conversation where she ended it all.
So ironic that the face that had brought him happiness for such a long time would be the face of the greatest pain he would ever feel.
A/N: how y’all feeling about that part 2?
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.
He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.
It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.
*****
He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.
But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.
He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.
Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.
After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.
“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”
Eddie’s face was answer enough.
*****
To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.
But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.
Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.
He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.
He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.
As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.
The dark circles under his eyes remained.
Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?
He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.
But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.
He shouldn’t assume, though.
He knew how Richard Harrington was.
So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.
On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.
“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”
“Stitch him up?”
“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”
Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.
“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”
Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”
Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.
As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.
The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.
It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.
Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.
Something else was different, too.
Eddie’d moved.
Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.
Oh.
So it was like that.
Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.
He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.
“Did Eddie wake up?”
Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”
Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
She smiled at him and continued on her way.
Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.
It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.
Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2
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