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#im always surprised that people still read them
liquidstar · 1 month
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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idiaa-shroxd · 9 months
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Your cat cafe au is so much fun and so soft I adore it but hearing that Malleus and Leona's cats are friends is so funny to me and spawned the worst idea XD Prefect: Leona, Nebula is pregnant Leona: ...By who? Prefect gestures to Oatmeal and Nebula cuddling.
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we share the same brain!! actually working on the cat au ask right now, but have a few irl emergencies that prevented my writing, and here’s a little bit of it! but first let me just say this is 100% my thought process if you and rook have yet to neuter the kitties. oatmeal and nebula have a romeo and juliet love story! \(//∇//)\ more under cut! this isn’t canon in the au or anything but a fun concept!!
“Nebula has never looked better, he scooped her up in one arm and held her firmly against his bicep, smug as she meowed up at him and purred loudly. He had zero hesitation to hold her while walking to his fated rival, looking him and his cat up and down before scoffing. The two proceeded to argue over who’s cat looked better wearing their dorm uniform for a bit, as the two cats seemed content in their arms without hostility to one another. - Leona Kingscholar
Malleus Draconia - As Leona argues with him half his brain has melted to this is the greatest cat. Cat precious. My firstborn is the best in this world. The other half of him smugly picks up his son in his own arm, the cat against his own bicep as he begins talking about how regal he is. Honestly, his cat is just happy to spend time with him and begins playfully nipping at him after not getting enough attention.”
anyways back to the ask!! I’d like to imagine if that actually happened then leona would freak out at malleus, while malleus is shocked he is getting his first grandchild with you already as you reiterate that is a cat, and you both are not married. he’s not listening, to you or leona. they end up being that in law family that despise one another thoroughly like my child is too good for your child but i don’t want to lose custody of my grandchild. cats tend to have multiple kitties at once so im thinking depending on the amount the may definitely mean the boys now live ay Ramshackle with the kittens, with Nebula nipping at her dad proudly showing him her babies and Oatmeal showing his dad his babies too, forcing the two men to bond despite their prominent scowls, but they avoid being too loud because you remind them kittens are sensitive to noises. (。-∀-)
they’d definitely end up trying to adopt the kittens when you graduate.. but that custody battle is a talk for a different day. on the bright side Oatmeal and Nebula finally get to stay with each other openly as they raise the kitties.
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for anyone curious ( ^ω^ ) been busy these past few weeks with art fight, and my cat needed a vet emergency, still have to return to the vet later this week, but i’m also working on a r-18 birthday leona fic! friendly reminder my navigation does say mdni and you are responsible for the content on my profile that you view!♪
Σ('◉⌓◉’) actually haven’t written r-18 works for social media in a bit, but i will try my best to make the fic! if anyone does not want to view the content, please block the tag “shrouded in desire.” which i will be tagging the fic, and all r-18+ fics on my profile for those who do not want to see the content!
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pezpenser205 · 21 days
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3am monday morning mood
#insert garfield i hate mondays joke here#op#...........................................................................................................................................#........................................................................................................................#......................................................................................................................#.......................................................................................................................#...........................................................#............................................................#sui mention tw if you read further for some odd reason#was highkey wanting to change my mind before the date came but now im not so sure thats gonna happen#i dont have a lot of time#2 days is not enough to get a job or change my mind so i dont even know what im gonna do#i feel like im dreaming all the time#'i dont know what im gonna do' is for sure a lie though i damn well know come on now#its simple a + b = c math#(im a waste of resources) + (i dont even like being here and am not a person anymore) = (i shouldnt be here)#i think my family will get over it like none of them even talk to me anymore (not that i make it easy but still)#i have nothing that somebody else cant have or do better than me its not that big of a deal.#like literally i cant fucking comprehend what anyone would like about me anymore#everything bad about me so clearly outweighs the 1/10 times i can be funny or dependable or considerate.#im just taking advantage of others' compassion at this point#when i say 'i am not a person' i mean that with 100% sincerity#i get surprised and scared when people talk to me and have no concept of self and no real hobbies. im just empty im not even angry anymore#im beyond unhinged tbh i have zero self awareness and feel like im the only person like me that exists and im rambling-#-and oversharing all the time and talking over others because i fail to even really understand or consider what theyre saying anymore#-and simultaneously i feel too unremarkable to be worthy of life#i feel like im playing my entire life in VR like nobody and nothing here is real. none of you are even real.#this feels the same as typing in a word document i just always feel alone no matter who im talking to or what im doing#i feel like the only real person in the world and the only one that shouldnt be here#i cant even bring myself to feel scared of death. im just. nothing. even when im crying i dont feel anything at all
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definitelyuseless · 7 months
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its literally sso weird seeing like the majority of posts in a fandom just being people thirsting over characters, like, thats actually what that many people take away from watching television? and although they do it a bit over female characters, its mostly male characters, which i reckon must say a lot about demographics? and like, sometimes you can tell when theyll go weird over it from how the characters portrayed like 'conventionally good looking' and with body language and framing and stuff that you can tell its intentional, although in some cases (or maybe thats just my interpretation) but i always saw it as more the showing offs like the audience is meant to relate to them instead? like its actually from their pov and the audience is just meant to think theyre cool. although maybe thats just me. but then also sometimes the chaaracter is so much like one youre meant to thinks cool or from their pov or whatever and they havent portrayed the conventional attractiveness as clearly, or like thats not how their characters portrayed so its always so weird to me when people on here start going on about how attractive they are
#jujutsu kaisen#also other ones#i mean i havent watched hollywood films for ages and havent watched that many#but it makes me think of those like 80s-2000s especially hollywood films#there the audience is clearly meant to find both the male and female leads attractive which is so obvvious from how theyre portrayed#and like it takes up a lot of the film compared to other tv shows and stuff ive watched?#but then the thing with the animes ive watched is that its a lot more surprising to me when people are like that#although not always there are often times when characters are clearly portrayed like that#and its also like the ones ive watched and stuff#but i dont know maybe its also about how theyre portrayed like the hollywood films are those american hypermasculine guys#and im not saying anime characters are more realistic or relatable or anything neither are meant to be realistic#but i guess anime characters are like more similar to the protagonists of the books i read as a kid which really shaped how i view fiction#so those are the sort of characters that my mind goes to as the ones youre meant to like relate to#and like in general none of the characters might be similar to me in real life thats not what i mean by relate#i mean more empathise or something i guess like see from their pov or project on them? i dont know#but anyway the hollywood guys like theyre never very povable or whatever the word is?#and like those books i read it was often the sort of 'underdog' character or others that were meant to be relatable#whereas both hollywood and anime arent really that so much but anime characters still lends themselves to seing from pov perspective#anyway before ths went into pov it was about how the main way i tell if people will think characters are attractive is narrative positionin
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maxillo · 2 years
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just now occured to me that maybe I have vastly different expectations and presentation methods of content specifically because i got my start on wikia
#as in im more used to just creating repositories of information that others then read#in a space thats in some sense communal and interlinked in content#i have no idea how to consistently post about my work on social media like most people do#and it always feels like it goes against the grain of my brain because i want to keep everything centralized#and that i have to cater and trim it in a way that gives a reason for people to read it if they find it at all#versus people only needing to find a specific wiki of specific kinds of content where everyone contributes their ideas in the same space#its hard for me to even find and try to interact with fellow creatives on tumblr or elsewhere#it feels like such a goose chase of algorithms that demands way more energy than just being part of a wiki where people come and socialize#on their own terms and occupying a close and inherently blended environment where collaboration and interaction is much easier#maybe thats why i dont like 'advertising myself' in places either#in my wikia days people would just find my stuff and interact with me of their own volition all in the same space#it feels so weird and uncomfortable trying to pitch myself and my ideas in places where im not guaranteed reciprocation of interest#no surprise that i still prefer to structure my ideas through wikis but theyre not community spaces because tiddlywiki is 'solo' on its own#and i genuinely dont know how to bridge the gap between them and social media#im honestly wanting to just either find or create an actually communal wiki space and invite friends and mutuals to join or observe that#and maybe somehow integrate it with the wikis i already have#i just really miss being part of creative communities in a mutual way and thats the only method to organize it that makes sense to me#max yaks
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thestarmaker · 2 years
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I've always been on the aro spectrum even before I was fully aromantic and thinking back to so many TV shows/movies I would always think that "unnecessary" relationship plots/drama made the media actively worse and was very rarely into them. Now I realize that the few pairings I did like on my own (and not bc everyone else did so I just fell for it too) was because the writers were able to convince me that the characters respected each other on a personal level. If I couldn't see or even imagine the respect I didn't like them as a couple (not that I realized it until I was older). That still holds SO true for me, and let me tell you the numbers haven't gone up much.
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malewifesband · 1 month
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as big as the friend confession scene is i love this part best. laios is ofc still under the impression that kabru likes monster food and went thru this big effort to make something special for him and then kabru goes out of his way to be so warm and sweet, and frankly a bit flirtatious like i know he thinks that exit killed it
and hes kinda right bc laios cannot stop staring after him when he leaves and i cannot attribute all that to him being confused about what kabru meant by "dont forget me next time". like laios means it if he says something like "meeting you was the best part of this" those are not empty words even if hes under a false impression about kabru--i dont think its just that kabru shared his interest that has his attention either. i think its bc kabru really engaged with him. i dont think his opinion wouldve changed much if kabru said "nahhhh im good i wont eat a monster cool for you tho have fun" instead of saying he would try it
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(and he really is trying the 'laugh at anything he says so he'll feel special' strat here huh.....)
and kabru despite being a stranger he helped get thru to shuro about falins resurrection
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and he does it with a sensitivity and care that laios wishes he was capable of and he know it limits him as a leader
the thought laios keeps having about kabru isnt "wow he loves monsters too!" its "wow he is sooooo nice :3" which he is! at this stage he likes kabru bc he feels heard by him and kabru has qualities he knows he lacks but admires greatly and didnt make fun of him or call him weird for his interest in monsters
the way kabru acts and thinks about laios at this point feels allegorical to how people feel in new relationships. can i trust you? are you who you seem? if i tell you how ive been hurt, will you use this to hurt me or to protect me? i dont know yet, but i like you so far, so im going to show you the self that i think you'll like best. i want to impress you. i want you to trust me so maybe i can trust you
so much of dungeon meshi is about the way that we accidentally hurt our loved ones because we cant always understand them, or we dont know whats best for them when theyve been hurt in such complex ways, or because were too scared of being hurt again to tell them not to press into the bruise (see: chimera falin, falin giving up parts of her life to suit/protect marcille and laios bc she loves them, laios driving marcille deeper into the winged lions grip TWICE with his advice in the nightmares and again with the dungeon rabbits, everything chilchuck has ever done in his whole life, laios' father's everything also, and this is a labru post so ofc kabru lying about wanting to eat monsters to impress laios) i wouldnt be surprised if the allegory was intentional
anyways this part of their relationship budding into a toxic little flower theyll have to prune later is very cute to me and i really like reading it again knowing how they turn their relationship around later into one built on a mutual understanding and trust
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thot4ellie · 2 months
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oh sweetheart
pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au
word count: 1.9k
rating: 18+
warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)
summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.
authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)
PART 1 | part 2
series masterlist <3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
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loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.
you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.
it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.
after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.
you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.
jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.
you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.
"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.
he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.
"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.
the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.
the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.
"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.
"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.
you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.
"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.
"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.
"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.
"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.
"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.
suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.
you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.
jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.
dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.
you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.
thats her.
thats the girl who saved you outside.
the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.
the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.
you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.
...5
...4
...3
...2
as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.
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hello!! im not sure if you're still doing requests for miguel, but i'd love to read a miguel x reader where they both find out they enjoy daddy kink and miguel just absolutely spoils them rotten 🥰 can be smutty and fluffy, like a headcanon style thing!! thank you so much <3
hii!! I don’t personally like daddy kink, but I did this in a way that’s similar just bc you asked so nicely (it might even actually be what you wanted lmao, but im not sure) thanks for requesting, hope you like it 💌
MIGUEL BEING A PROVIDER ;) HC’S
miguel o’hara x female reader
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warnings. 18+ only! dacryphilia, size kink, tiny mention of sir. mdni
// fluff and smut are split in half (fluff first)
fluff hc's:
— one thing about miguel is he's a provider, always taking care of the special people in his life. he's the kind that loves to give (i say that loosely), especially to those he loves 
— he loves to treat his little love: giving them lavish gifts, spoiling them - getting them things they could never afford. nothing has a price tag for his girl
— I imagine him frequently surprising you with dinner and flowers. dressed all smart, fancy car pulled out front, waiting to spoil you for the evening: wines, cheeses, 3-course meal, a violinist playing in the restaurant (which he booked out for the evening btw) all the extravagant things he often does for you, and only you !!
— you never have to lift a finger, never have to work, never have to clean, never have to cook your own meals (unless of course, you wanted to) he believes it's his job to take care of you, and all he wants in return is for you to love him, and give an occasional back rub
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smut hc's:
— again, he thinks it's his job to take care of you - to meet your needs, but that doesn't mean he's opposed to an impromptu blowie when he's in the home office/ lab
— don't think he likes being called 'daddy,' so 'sir' would be a good substitute. he likes it when you say it on accident, all breathy and whiney between strokes
— he loves how small you are compared to him. the sheer size of him towering over you, so I def think he loves a bit of missionary or mating press - he's just so massive, and he gets to cage you against the mattress which he loves !! he gets to watch your face as he slowly fucks into you. he gets a bit cocky (??) and says all these things that make you really fucking weak in the knees, "whose fucking you this good?" "like it when I fuck you like this?" "no one does you this good, do they?" but it's all low and quiet, breathy and husky. THE king of, "oh, yeah?" and "mhm-hm,"
— when he's on top - he holds your face in his MAMOTHLY LARGE hands !!! rests his forehead against yours !!! softly grunts against your lips !!! kisses away your tears !!! compliments and praises you for taking him so well !!! sandwhiches his chest with yours so you can't move !!! hikes your legs over his hips/ thighs !!! he's slow with the strokes, letting you feel every SINGLE centimetre. he surprises you with a snappy jab occasionally just to feel you shudder and to hear the harsh moan you make - and when you bury your face the crook of his neck and dig into his back and and and 
— THOUGH he does like you on top sometimes. watching you struggle to use his huge cock, whining pathetically when you can't get it to feel good. he'd cave and grab onto your waist, gripping you so he can fuck himself up into you. pounding you from below - balls slapping, skin sticking, the lot. makes you cry with his cock, and he loves it
— also you have to cum at least once before he even gets his dick out, sorry it's his rules 
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
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kentopedia · 3 months
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BY ANY OTHER NAME — dazai osamu
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summary . . . dazai comes home after a week away, and you stay up late to surprise him with a gift.
contents . . . sfw, f!reader, pm boss dazai, dazai's pov, fluff, pet names, husband dazai <3, my unofficial valentine’s fic — 2.3k
notes . . . IM BACK !!!! he can stop whining about being neglected now (i missed him)
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Dazai rubs his eyes as he walks in through the front doors of the Port Mafia headquarters, two of his men trailing behind him. The lights have been dimmed in the lobby, just bright enough to read through a sheet of paper without squinting. There are very few people loitering in the building, but that isn’t unusual for three o’clock in the morning. 
The sight of the lobby, as abysmal and dreary as it is, soothes the ache that’s been lingering in Dazai’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s been home; the past week was dedicated to doing business outside of the city. But it feels like it’s been even longer than that since he’s gotten to kiss you.
Dazai had called you every day when he was away — of course he did. His every thought revolves around you. It’s just that a few phone calls are nothing compared to being close enough to touch you.
“All set then, boss?” Chuuya asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit as tired as Dazai feels. None of them had gotten much sleep on the mission away, and the weariness is finally settling down on them.
Dazai nods and waves his hands, dismissing Chuuya. “Get some rest. But don’t think that you can miss out on the meeting tomorrow just because we got back late,” he hums, and though Chuuya’s face twists up in annoyance, a fraction of a grin lingers on Dazai’s own. “I expect you there bright and early.” 
“Asshole,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. And, in all honesty, Dazai is too tired to even quip back. 
He watches as Chuuya and the rest of his team disperse. Some of them head to the elevator, choosing to remain under the safety of the Mafia’s ownership. Some leave the building, heading to their private homes, outside of the city.
Dazai doesn’t really care where they choose to reside, as long as they remain loyalty to him and the Mafia. So far, he hasn’t had any issues.
With a quick scan around the room, he notices that there are still eyes on him. Dazai refrains from yawning, even as the sleepy feeling creeps up on him, an almost uncontrollable strain of the muscles. It’s a simple bodily reaction, but it feels too much like an emotion, a weakness that he could reveal. How tiring it is, to be the boss, with every eye scutinizing him, searching for a mistake. 
He’s a lot more relaxed around the members he’d been a child with; they disliked the previous bosses more than they dislike him, but some still miss when Mori was alive. Some, he worries, know they’ll never be able to land a finger on Dazai — you are the much easier target. 
It’s a fear that has never left him alone, not since the day he fell in love with you. 
When his eyes slide to the corner of the room, he notices that Higuchi and Gin are still downstairs, conversing in whispers in front of a corner table. 
His eyebrows wrinkle together. They’re supposed to be with you, still watching out in case anyone decides to make a move before you’re back in his arms. 
Dazai heads toward them, straightening his lips into a scowl. He knows that neither of them particularly like him; their feelings are nothing short of neutral. But they are fiercely loyal to you.
As much as he’d like to snap at someone in his weathered state, he knows neither of them would ever do anything to put you in danger. He also knows that if you’d begged them to be left alone, they would’ve complied. 
“Higuchi,” Dazai says, his voice flattened, serious, as he tries to hide both his exhaustion and his confusion. “Is something wrong?”
The blonde straightens, her expression changing quickly from an easy smile to something anxiously stoic. Her eyes shift from him to Gin, and though she always puts on a very brave face, Dazai knows how much he intimidates her — just as Mori did before him. 
“Sorry, sir,” Higuchi says, and she steps to the side, a space between her and the other woman revealing you asleep on the table. “We thought you’d be back earlier. She wanted to stay down here and surprise you, but it got late, and…” Higuchi trails off, noticing that Dazai is already distracted, his expression softening. 
It is, perhaps, the reason that so many in the Port Mafia choose to win you over. There is very little that Dazai forgives, very little that he lets slide. You, though, have a heart that is much softer, a gentleness that he has never once in his life possessed. The bleeding organ caged within his chest is made of blooming flowers when it comes to you, ones with petals he’d let you pluck off without a single protest. 
“Oh,” Dazai says, the syllable nothing more than a puff of air, parting his cold lips. His eyes soften, body relaxing, every ounce of tension draining from his shoulders. He feels lighter, those sickening thoughts of blood and misery evaporating from his mind like a cartoonish puff of smoke. “I see.”
One of your arms is stretched out across the table, the other tucked under your head, creating a right angle from your wrist to your elbow. There is a dark shade of lipstick on your mouth, that has now smeared to your cheeks. Only one of your eyes is visible, the other pressed into your bicep. 
You’re a mess, but you’re so human; angelically beautiful, but not without the faults of a mortal. He loves you so dearly that his chest squeezes, and though Gin and Higuchi are watching, he knows—and they know—that he’s never been good at hiding his feelings for you. 
“Thank you,” Dazai says, tapping Higuchi on the shoulder. She seems to flinch at the sudden contact, but relaxes, and nods. “For staying with her.”
Higuchi is surprised by the acknowledgement, but she just bows her head, laughs, almost awkwardly, and backs away from him. “I consider her a friend. I don’t need to be thanked.”
“It’s polite to thank people for the work they’ve done for you,” Dazai says, and though he’s, perhaps, being uncharacteristically nice, you’ve softened him like butter, making him sickeningly saccharine. “Is it not?”
Higuchi opens her mouth, then draws her eyebrows together before shutting it. Better to let it go than question Dazai’s newfound benevolence — something he will spare only so often.
But she surprises Dazai with a small grin, her bangs falling into her eyes as she tilts her head just to the side. “Your darling wife has trained you well,” Higuchi says, much braver than she’d been months ago, braver still, than she’d been under Mori’s regime. 
Dazai thinks he’s grown too soft in his years with you. Though, one scan of your darling, sleeping figure erases any regret he could ever feel. 
He’s surprised by Higuchi’s reaction, but he doesn’t let it show, a smile sliding smoothly on his face before a sharp laugh escapes from him. “I’ve just grown to trust you more, Higuchi. I know that you would never betray her.” 
Higuchi smiles; there’s a fresh understanding between them that wasn’t there before. 
Dazai loves you, he loves you dearly, but he is lucky that so many others do too. How many people has he won over in the Mafia, just by being associated with you? How many have sworn their loyalty to him, only because they’re forever loyal to you? 
He supposes it doesn’t matter. You’ve got a pretty ring on your finger to prove that you’re as much his as you are the Port Mafia’s, and he doesn’t intend on ever letting you go.
Gin and Higuchi bid him a good night, and his exhaustion finally starts to overcome him, the stickiness in the back of his throat giving way to pain, his eyelids thin and scratchy. 
Dazai runs his hands over your head softly, stirring you back awake. It must be painful, the position you’re in, and he can only imagine how stiff you are. When he touches your cheek, you make a soft little sound under your breath; Dazai nearly melts.
“Sweetheart,” he hums, dragging his fingertips across your arms. “Let’s go.” 
It takes a few seconds longer before you jolt a bit, eyes fluttering open softly. You’d been in a surprisingly deep sleep, despite the lights on in the room, the rustling sound that follows the people walking around.
“Osamu?” 
Dazai hums an affirmation, and then he kisses you, just the corner of your mouth, the only part of it that he can reach. “You fell asleep,” he says, just above a whisper, kneeling slightly as you make your way to a seated position. “Time to go upstairs.”  
But you’re still half-asleep, and you fall forward, into his arms, throwing them around his neck. You smell something of fresh soap and roses, overwhelmingly sweet. Dazai almost can’t believe he’d been able to leave you for so long.  
“You’re back!” you mutter, and though it’s full of excitement, its also said through a yawn.
Dazai smiles, and breathes you in. “I am.”
“I missed you,” you kiss his shoulder, the juncture between it and his neck. “Sorry I wasn’t awake when you got here.” 
He runs his fingers up your spine and laughs, shaking his head. “It’s the middle of the night, my love. I would’ve preferred you were asleep, anyway.” A pout forms against his neck; he quickly remedies his words, and kisses the top of your head. “But I’m happy to see you. I was certainly surprised.” 
You laugh, breathless. “Not much of a surprise with me passed out on the table.” 
Dazai starts to pull away, but notices the bouquet of bright red roses on the table. It’s large — dozens and dozens of flowers stuck into the paper. They’re your favorites, ones that he always gets you, the stamp on the packaging from the same florist he shops from. His eyebrows wrinkle together. 
“Who are the flowers from?” he says, and though he tries to keep his tone unassuming, he knows how it sounds… Irritated, and perhaps a little too much like a man willing to skin anyone alive. 
You pull your head away from his shoulder and glance behind you, to the bouquet that is laid carefully against the table. “Oh,” you say, your eyes darting back down to your hands, in a way that is almost bashful. “They’re from me, actually. For you.” 
Carefully, you pick them up and hand them to him, smiling sideways and awkwardly.  
Dazai’s eyes widen. He glances at the flowers being presented to him, stares at the golden and diamond ring upon your finger, the vulnerability in your irises as you reach out the bouquet. His doubt is only obvious for a second, but it is enough to have you questioning your surprise. 
You frown, withdraw, and begin to set the bouquet down. “Do you not like them? I know they’re more of something I would like, but I just thought… Well, I love when you buy me flowers, Osamu. And you just have so many things, I thought this would be more—”
Dazai smiles. He is sick with affection, devastatingly in love with you and everything that you have to offer. You could have given him nothing, and he still would have stared at you with stars in his eyes, because you are the universe that he revolves around. You could’ve given him the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he wants you and you alone, and no gift can compare to the way that you love him. 
He kisses you, catches you in the middle of a sentence, steals the air right from your lungs. The taste of you is even sweeter after so much time apart, and he curls his fingers into your scalp, traces your cheeks with his thumb. “I love you,” he says against your mouth, whispers the words, even though everyone around them sees his feelings on a flickering sign about his head. “You’re so sweet to me, even though I probably don’t deserve it.” 
You’re taken aback, and then you shake your head, rolling your eyes. You must get tired of how often he says it, how often he questions why you love a man like him. But it’s true. You are everything that’s right with the world, and Dazai is the opposite. Fate must’ve been on his side to match him with a soulmate that is everything he truly needs. 
“You spoil me too much,” you say in return, yawning again in the middle of the sentence, your hand covering your mouth daintily. “I never get the chance to do the same.” 
Dazai thinks your love spoils him enough, but he won’t bother you with anymore of those thoughts. Your eyes are drooping closed once more, and if he doesn’t get you upstairs soon, you might just sleep on the table for the rest of the morning. 
He takes the bouquet in one hand, and drags you to your feet with the other. You sway a bit, then nestle into his side, curling your arms around his waist tightly. “I’m sleepy, Osamu.” 
“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you walk to the elevator in silence, and he realizes that he never properly expressed his gratitude. “Thank you for the flowers, angel.” 
You don’t respond, but squeeze him a little tighter. He smiles, and the elevator chimes. 
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⤷ thank you sm for reading! reblogs appreciated!
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barblaz-arts · 2 months
Note
I think people have been accustomed to couples being in that honeymoon phase when they’re shown onscreen together. We ALWAYS see that with newly-established couples in pretty much any type of media… But that’s not Chaggie.
Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years. Their honeymoon phase has long past. They’re not doing outlandish displays of affection. They’re just, comfortable. Doesn’t mean they love each other any less, just that those sappy moments aren’t as common anymore
Yes! also the way a lot of people are surprised that charlie and vaggie aren't only best friends is such a good example of the double standards wlw ships get. thinking they aren't dating is understandable. Overlooking that Vaggie and Charlie were meant to at least be shipped together is INSANE.
If i never knew they were dating already, i and so many other sapphic ship lovers would be eyeing tf out of Vaggie and Charlie's relationship. Lookit some of the things that happened/are established before the "she's my girlfriend" line in ep 5
- the newcaster lady made a homophobic comment towards Charlie, saying she "doesn't touch the gays" when Charlie tried to give her a handshake
- THIS
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- just all the times Vaggie would soften up as soon as she sees Charlie smiling or being her dorky self despite being previously upset/angry
- Vaggie's whole friggin verse in Whatever It Takes is very obviously meant to be romantic
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- Charlie being worried about Angel Dust while Vaggie gives her the most "i love you and im sad that you're upset but i love that you're upset over something like this because it shows how amazing of a person you are" look at Charlie as she tucks her hair behind her ear
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- Angel: I think this belongs to you *hands Charlie over to Vaggie*
- just all the casual touches they do that would totally be read as shipping fuel AT LEAST if it happened between a male/female duo or two men
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- the fact Vaggie woke up?? Looking beside her to find Charlie?? To show that they sleep in the same bed?????
- Vaggie offering her hand unprompted when Charlie was having a stressful phone call with her dad and Charlie readily accepting it
And I'm sure there are people who'd go "But it's always shown from Vaggie's end! It looks so one-sided!" So? Aren't there tons of ships out there that seem one-sided but yall are perfectly fine shipping? And it's harder to see Charlie's love for Vaggie because Charlie at her core is a very loving and affectionate person. Of course it's gonna be more obvious for Vaggie since she's so prickly towards anyone else.
If all these things still happened without any of us knowing that they were actually girlfriends, we'd have a certain section of the fandom shipping it hoping they DO become canon while others would be claiming we'd be ruining a perfectly good platonic friendship by making it gay. They'd say we're reading too much into things.
But they ARE a couple. we aren't reading too much into things because it was meant to be read as romantic. And yet we're still the delusional ones for thinking an already established sapphic couple is "cute and interesting" because now they're claiming they simply dont have chemistry. It's frustrating.
Of course I have my criticisms too. The show could portray more of how Vaggie is more special to Charlie than anyone else, have them flirting more overtly or something. But any argument that they're "so boring i thought it was het" is invalid to me because i damn well know if at least one them was a dude a lot of them would be saying otherwise.
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lovystar · 5 months
Text
❝ A PRINCESS’ WILL ❞ ; BADA LEE
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synopsis──after an assassination attempt, the queen invites the very best fighters from across the land to compete for the great honor of protecting you, the princess.
content──bada lee x unnamed fem!oc (reader). princess!reader, soldier under disguise!bada. currently unedited, pls be nice lol. fictional combination of medieval european and korea’s joseon dynasty aspects bc im not too concerned about making it realistic. incorrect pronouns (when not in bada’s pov). this world is matrilineal bc I said so. bada's a flirt. eventual smut w/ switch!bada.
word count ── approx. 5.4k
───
YOUR MOTHER’S STRONG HOLD—on the country, on the castle, on her children, and on you in particular as the oldest—was suffocating. You were destined to rule over millions, and your mother would not let you forget it. You had to be strong, caring for your people but unforgiving to others. That’s how she ruled. She’d shape you to be the same queen she was, and she’ll drill it into your head herself if she needs to.
Your pride would never allow you to say this to her face, but you supposed that she did a good enough job. The people loved her: she kept them safe and fed, gave them more than enough to start caring beyond their necessities and seek self-actualization, to flourish in the arts. She wasn’t very popular among foreign lands, and you might even go on to say that they feared her. She was often fair when wronged, but very rarely did she ever pardon those wrongs. She has never, in the time you've been alive.
Once, when you were very little and you were still taking lessons with some children of noble descent, you heard them repeat a saying they’d learn from their parents:
“Loving are her eyes, beauty bestowed, but fear the night the Hawk catches you lurking near her nest, lest you desire your entrails be fed to the eyas nights on end.” 
They spoke of their Queen with reverence and adoration.
Her way of ruling worked well for many years; you got to live a life of peace and prosperity the entirety of your childhood. Not many other kingdoms can say the same.
On top of your queenly history lessons and politics and mathematics and the sciences, she wanted you to be good at protecting yourself. While she has acquired the most apt Royal Guard, a future queen must still be able to hold her own. She ordered only the best archers and swords to teach you, and you were…decent, at it. The years of practice successfully stuck some things into you: how to hold a sword and a bow and arrow, which body parts to target, how to be light in your feet (this one was specifically useful whenever you wanted to leave the royal palace).
In your defense, your natural sensibilities were drawn to something else entirely. You’d always say reading was a more sensible passage of time. You would spend hours upon hours lounging in one of the library nooks or on a blanket in the palace gardens, surrounded by the pastel of the flowers.
You were in that garden when the assassin took a knife to your throat.
You lived, but it scared your mother terribly. Surprising—since you’d never known her to be a person who had any fears. In your mind, it could only mean two things. One, she loved you to some extent—she might just have a weird way of expressing it. Two, someone was threatening her bloodline and consequently, perhaps more importantly, someone was threatening her throne.
And she will not let that happen in her lifetime.
───
It has been two weeks since your throat was sliced open. Two weeks since the doctor instructed you to minimize strenuous activity and if you could, stay in bed as to not open the stitches.
‘You don’t know how lucky you are,’ the doctor has told you every day after your daily checkup. You know this, of course. Had the knife gone any deeper and had your court ladies not been around the corner, you’d be dead. It was, however, a hilarious thought that someone would bring a blunt knife to an assassination.
Your mother didn’t think it was funny. But in your delicate state, the anger in her eyes had never been funnier, and it pained your throat whenever you’d attempt to laugh.
“Will you stop it? The doctor spent hours on those. What will we do if they scar?” You rolled your eyes in response and she scoffed. “Glad to see you’re as genteel as ever, it’d be a shame if you had lost that lively nature of yours.” It sounded sarcastic, but she meant it. She did not want you to be passive. In her mind, that would only led to you becoming spineless and spineless Queen can't rule. You ignored her words, instead gesturing for one of the maids to bring you a cup of water.
“I’ve arranged for the competition to take place tomorrow, do you think you’ll be up for it?”
You furrowed your brows, “Competition?” Your voice came out roughly. The stitches began to itch.
Your mother groaned, “Please refrain from speaking, but yes, competition, have you not been listening to me? The best soldiers and eligible men have been traveling from across the nation for some time now. The men will fight and we shall see who is best equipped to protect the Crown Princess.”
“Must—” you coughed, “must we make them fight? Can’t we just pick one?”
“Just pick one?” She looked into your eyes incredulously, “You must have hit your head and injured your intelligences if you think I’d let just any one person be in charge of you. You must have the best.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Very well.” She nodded once, “The doctor has cleared you to attend so rest, you will be awakened bright and early tomorrow!”
She walked out of the room and left you to your devices. You sighed. You allowed your court ladies to help you out of your daily garments, clean your wound, place the ointment and replace the bandage.
You repeated the process in the morning, placing a necklace over the bandage, ensuring it is not too tight but stays in place. You prepared for the days’ events, and after a couple of restrained breaths, you walked out of the room with your court ladies in toe.
───
Bada Lee spent her childhood just outside the place. Her family had raised generations of soldiers, many of which served in the Royal Guard. That was, until her father was dismissed and demoted to being a simple guard in the rural countryside. He had dedicated his entire life to the Queen and it was a shock to everyone when he’d been told of his dismissal. Up to his last breath, he’d grow angry whenever she’d asked him why. Why did we leave? How could a loving Queen throw us away as if we were nothing? She’d been upheaved from the City, and littered some place where she’d have to fight if she wanted anything to come from her life. Well, fight harder than she’d have to in the City.
Still, she knew that it didn’t matter where she was. Whether in the Capital City or the countryside, external expectations would have her be a wife and a mother soon after. She watched her mother suffer under these conditions, watched her neighbors, and the change in her friends’ nature as they came of age and were married off. They were all unhappy.
She’d be damned if she was destined to a miserable marriage. But above all, she’d be damned if she dies a nobody. Just another woman, forgotten by history.
Nope. That’s not her.
Growing up, she loved watching her father and brother train. She’d try to join, but her father would quickly push her away. She would try day after day, but it couldn’t be helped. So she turned to making her own sword out of a fallen tree branch. She’d copy their movements, the placement of their feet and how the air would rest in their lungs and rush out with the lunge of the sword—well, the lunge of the stick for her. Her brother agreed to train with her, but in his teenage years, he grew resentful of her talent. He decided to begin training a different skill, archery, but soon enough, he realized that this too came naturally for her. Over the years he turned to different combat skills, only for Bada to overpower him again and again. One day, he stopped helping her at all.
It was a cold winter when the sickness spread across the countryside. It was the sickness that took her father and it was the sickness that took her brother. The town had to develop a new burial site due to the amount of people that died at the beginning of the season. Death didn't relent there; people continued dying and dying until that site was full with bodies.
By the time her family succumbed to their sickness, there was nowhere to put them. For days on end, her only company was their cold bodies. She had placed them in a separate room, putting as much distance as she could. As the winter grew colder and she stared at the makeshift tomb’s door, she realized she depended entirely on them. As it stood, she was nothing, less than nothing, by herself. It was a matter of time before someone hunted her down, a young woman without any male relatives left and tried to turn her into a sellable thing.
She’d be damned.
In a feat of fear and anger, she grabbed her brother’s clothes and changed into them and styled her hair as he would. She looked into the small mirror, surprised to see that her crazy plan might just work.
But she needed to make people think it was her that died.
The day the town hall proposed a mass burial, she changed her brother’s clothes into her own and loosened his hair from the top knot it was in. She shaved his beard, feeling disgusted at the act and with herself for feeling the need to do this. She pushed through: this was about her survival. She reported the bodies, and snuck into the site later that night. Sure, she would be shamelessly taking her brother’s identity from this day forward, but that did not mean she would bury her brother in anything other than his clothes. She did not want that karma. Plus she could afford to lose one of the five hanboks.
The next day, she watched anxiously as they buried the mass of bodies.
She should’ve felt terrible about her relief once they were under the soil, and she did, she would miss them. At some point during the week she lived with their corpses, she forgave them for any bad they did to her. She could only think of the good things now, her father’s jjigae and her brother’s light banter.
She did feel bad, but at the same time, a weight had been lifted. She wouldn’t need to get married now, she could pursue something, she could walk around at night without a chaperone and she could talk to people without worrying about being seen as vulgar.
Yes, under her disguise, she was finally free.
───
Lee Bada had been Lee Hae for a year by the time the Queen requested all eligible soldiers to report to the Capital City. Her commanding officer recommended her to go as one of the top soldiers under his command. She has managed to climb her way through the ranks, demonstrating her strength wherever she went.
Nobody knew the Mother of the Nation had called them to the palace, but if only the strongest were allowed to go, then Bada was going to make sure she was at top.
It was strange being back in the Capital City and even weirder to see the inside of the palace when all she’d known before was its gates.
Bada stood in line with the rest of the soldiers in the palace’s courtyard, towering over some of them. Her back maintained straight, her head held high, as the Crown Princess approached the Queen. She bowed to the queen and sat down next to her. Bada controlled her facial expressions, but her feelings couldn’t be helped. The Crown Princess had made the soldiers wait under the sun, and now she had the audacity to look bored. Despite being so far away, she could see the way you whispered into one of your court ladies’ ears and how they covered their mouth. The laughter showed in their eyes though. In contrast, your attempt to cover your giggle was lazy, your hand falling from the front of your mouth before you could control your expression once more. Bada wanted to scoff. Had you no decency? Before Bada’s bitterness could grow further, the Queen began speaking.
“Welcome, loyal soldiers and citizens. I have invited you here today to compete for the highest honor of joining the Royal Guard and protecting your Crown Princess.” Her open palm gestured to her side, where the Princess sat gracefully. “It is a title that comes with great responsibility, and requires skill, power and loyalty. It would please me for each of you to partake and serve your country in the process. If you wish to stay, please take a step forward.”
Each of the four hundred soldiers took a step, the sound booming through the courtyard. Bada did not look to see if any citizens had stepped forward.
“I am so glad! The competition consists of a six stages with different ‘games.’ You must accumulate enough points in each stage to successfully move up to the next one. Today, we shall begin the first stage. You must ride out into the woods and bring back a rabbit that has been trapped and hidden. There are only two hundred rabbits.” the Queen paused and with a clap of her hands, “Go!”
───
“I don’t get the point of this game,” You stated without looking up from your book. “They’ve been out there for hours and no one is back yet.”
“Patience, daughter,” the Queen responded, “There must be a basis to being a good protector, is there not? Wouldn’t you say that enduring long distance and persevering in the woods is a good baseline?”
“You are so creative, Mother,” you sighed into your book, “You can come up with such fantastical scenarios.”
“So you would rather have someone who doesn’t know how to endure long distances riding and persevere in the woods?”
You didn’t respond.
The first to arrive was a seasoned soldier. He had been part of the Royal Guard for more than a decade, and was known for his hunting skills. The second person caught your mother’s attention. One tall and broad-shouldered man rushed through the Palace gates with 4 rabbits hanging from his horse with a robe. He dismounted, grabbing the robe, throwing it on the ground and bowing before the Queen.
“Seowol from the Southern coast, your Royal Highness.”
“Seowol?” Your mother questioned, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do believe you were only supposed to take one rabbit.”
“I wanted to secure a strong position, your Highness.” He remained in a bowed position, looking down, his arms stiff along his body.
“Certainly! Please follow eunuch Jinho to the bathroom and a change of clothes. You’ll be called when everyone has arrived.” He looked up and nodded, and quickly did as instructed.
The court ladies swooned over the man once he’d walked away, but you hardly moved.
“Did you see the way he looked at you? Oh!” the young lady fanned her hand. You chuckled, amused by the younger girl’s reaction.
“The way he got off his horse and showed the rabbits, he was so cool!”
“And handsome! Don’t forget handsome!”
You rolled your eyes at that one, “He wasn’t even that handsome.”
“So you do think he was handsome!” They all laughed, having caught something in your words.
“Listen to me, I said he was not all that handsome.” You repeated, “I’ve seen better.”
They gushed, trying to get you to elaborate, but your mother was beginning to look at you sideways. You thought it was better to stop then. With the light hearted fun you were having with your ladies, you forgot all about the dull ache of your throat. The reason you were having this ridiculous competition in the first place. The truth was there was something about Seowol that disgusted you. You couldn’t quite place it, it could be the abruptness in his movements and the way he threw the rabbits on the ground, or perhaps the coldness behind his eyes. A mindless cruelty to innocent beings.
Returner after returner, it was the same and they started blending into each other. They’d rush through the gates, and present the robed rabbit in front of the Queen before they bowed. They announced their name loudly, as if shouting would make the Queen remember them better. The cook would take the rabbit and disappear to the kitchens.
That was, until number 73th entered the yard. The sun was beginning to set, leaving the sky in a canvas of lovely purples and pinks. You didn’t notice him at first, but soon your ladies began to whisper. This particular soldier entered calmly, and only one hand on the horse’s bridle. A small ball of white highlighted by the black of his uniform. As he got closer, you saw that the white speck of fluff was the rabbit. He cradled it on his left arm, making sure it didn’t jump or fall. Once he’d reach the stage, he dismounted carefully. You noticed his height, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how his shoulders managed to look both broad and slender at the same time. He came closer, bowing deeply before your mother and to your surprise, he began to approach you.
He was quickly stopped by your mother’s guards blocking his path.
“Please, your Royal Highness, let him approach,” You surprised yourself. For the past two weeks, you were scared you were growing paranoid of strangers and people in general. The fear was earned to some extent, you had just been attacked, but you were even more afraid that you’d grow to be scared of everyone, everything, and never come out of your bedroom ever again. Though, now, as you look over at your mother to let the stranger approach you, it seemed this fear wasn’t going to be an issue after all. You were going to be okay. In a lower voice this time, “Please, Mother.”
She rolled her eyes discreetly, waving her hand. “Let him through.”
The guards retracted. The man moved closer to you, and he bowed. You noticed the smoothness of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the pretty way his lashes decorated his pretty brown eyes. He was pretty. So much so you held your breath when his eyes finally met yours.
“My Princess.” He smiled, “For you.”
Oh.
Someone behind you gasped, and you were glad for the noise because that way he might not be able to hear the beating of your heart.
“May I?”
You nodded, despite not knowing what you had agreed to. The man walked even closer to you, and you unconsciously leaned forward. He placed the bunny in your hands, and you searched for his lingering fingers through the white fluff. He retrieved far too soon. You wanted to touch him for some reason. You wanted him to get close again and you wanted him to call you, once again, his prin—
“And what might your name be?” Your mother was not amused.
“Soldier Lee Hae, your Royal Highness.” He addressed his queen but his eyes never left yours.
“Lee, huh? You do know that was your dinner, correct? You won’t have dinner?” Your head snapped to your mother. She could not possibly!
“As long as my Princess is content, my stomach shall never be empty.”
Your head snapped back at him, a slightly ajar mouth. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly, but a sharp pain in your neck scared any adoring feelings away. The stitches tugged on your skin, and you brought your hand to your neck.
“Very well, no dinner. You may sit down, Soldier Lee Hae.”
───
Well, that was fucking stupid. Bada groaned, grabbing her stomach. She just had to give that damned rabbit to the Crown Princess, didn’t she? Even now, hours after dinner and well into their resting time, Bada could not decipher why she chose to spare the rabbit.
You had just looked so beautiful, and before she knew it, she was right in front of you. And as she remembers the look on your face when she gave you the bunny, your parted lips and your widening eyes as you looked up at her, Bada realized she only regretted her choice slightly.
There was no denying your beauty. Everyone knew that while you might be the Crown, you were also the prettiest bird in the eyes of the people.
But Bada couldn’t get distracted. She came here with a purpose. She was going to join the Royal Guard and bring back honor to her family. You might have been eye candy, but it didn’t change the fact that you represented what Bada lost, what she never realistically had a chance at.
It killed her. It killed her that they had a woman King and yet every other woman was still viewed as inferior. Did the only women that mattered lived in the palace? You got to be trained, you got to study the books—why couldn’t they? Why was it that she will need to pretend to be a boy for the rest of her life to feel free?
Could it be helped? Would you be different from your mother?
Her mind turned to her selfish thoughts. Perhaps she could use today’s events to her advantage. She could grow closer to you, on purpose this time, and perhaps that’d help her on the long run. She’d earn her position, of course; that was nonnegotiable.
The hunger grew furiously as she got lost in her thoughts. She couldn’t take it any longer. She got up, quickly wrapping the tight cloth over her chest. She hid a small knife on the inside of her left wrist, a security measure, though she was unlikely to need it. She grabbed something to cover herself with and left the small room she’d been provided with.
She was lucky to finish stage 1 where she did. When the last of the 197 soldiers that would pass on to the next stage arrived, they were well into dinner. The Queen had stated that for the remaining stages of the competition, only the top half scorers would receive a sole bedroom. Everyone else will sleep in the Great Hall. She reasoned it was to keep up the morale and ramp up ambition. It certainly did motivate Bada though. She did not wish to sleep uncomfortably among the stinky men. It was so weird, Bada knew they showered and mere hours later, a musk would develop around them.
She walked towards the kitchens as quietly as she could. Once there, she rummaged through the shelves, searching for something that was not a raw vegetable.
“Please, please, please…” She murmured to herself, and in her desperation, she did not hear the footsteps coming from the side entrance.
“Who is there?” A voice resounded. Bada froze, quickly kneeling down and hidden under the shelf. Fuck! “As Crown Princess, I command you to reveal yourself!”
The Princess? What was she doing up this late?
Bada had hoped that it was a younger staff member also searching for food (someone she could try her charm on), a simple guard (someone she could try to relate to and proclaim guard-to-guard solidarity), hell, she’d even hoped for a thief (someone who was even guiltier than she was). But the Princess? The Princess was someone she could not face. Perhaps for more than one reason.
As discreetly as she could, she crawled towards the end of the shelf. Across from here, there was a long table she could hide under and right across the table was the entrance.
She could make it.
If only she hadn’t run directly into the Princess’ feet.
She landed on her knees, and dread filled her head. She hung it in shame, some hair coming loose and framing her face. So this is how she would die, huh? With nothing to her name, a mere soldier title that she didn’t even earn herself. She would die without a legacy, without—
“Is that you, Lee Hae?” Your voice sounded extra sweet under the moonlight. “How come you’re out here at this time?”
She wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. But there was no getting out of this.
“Princess Royal, please forgive my shamelessness.” She did not look up, still on her knees. “In my hunger, I forgot my place. I beg for your forgiveness.”
There was a long silence after Bada finished talking. Should she have said more? She was already on her knees, what else could she do to humiliate herself in front of the Princess?
“You’re telling me my contentment was not enough for you?”
Bada lifted her head quickly, only to realize too late you were mere inches away. You were so close she could count each beauty mark, each freckle on your face. She’d kiss them if you’d let her. She shook her head. Stupid Bada, concentrate on not dying!
“That isn’t it at all, my Princess.” She shook her head violently, to which you chuckled in response, lifting your hand to cover your mouth.
“So you’re a liar, then.”
“No, no! I am not, my Princess,” Bada opened her palms, “I will admit that as earnestly as my heart believes a smile from you is all I ever need to survive in this world, my earthly body persists in imprisoning me with cravings. I sincerely did not mean to succumb to my hunger.”
You watched the young soldier as they hung their head once more. You thought Lee was…funny. Funny in a very lovely and forward way that you couldn’t help but want more of. You brought a hand closer to her face, fingers lifting her chin.
Bada allowed the princess to lift her face, flushing at the contact. She could feel the heat rushing to her face, and it embarrassed her that you could have this effect on her. How you made her lose composure.
“Look at me,” you stated. Your head followed the brown eyes as they moved, trying to get them to look at you. “Soldier Lee, look at me.” You said it firmly this time around. Finally, the person in question did as asked. Big eyes looked up at you, begging for something you weren’t sure you could give.
“You know, Soldier Lee, you are the prettiest man I’ve ever met.”
Oh.
Widened eyes and dropped jaw, “I—”
‘I am not a man,’ she wanted to say. She almost did, and the fact that she nearly gave herself away scared her. She had never come this close to telling someone the truth. Not on impulse nor consciously. To the Princess no less! She was a mess. She’d better get a hold of herself if she intends on making it through.
Bada had proven that she was good with words, and here you were, leaving her stunned. You enjoyed it, maybe a bit too much. Abruptly, you stood up, leaving the soldier down on her knees. You offered a hand, and it was like a spell being broken. She took it. She gathered herself and she was back into the charming and highly trained voice. Your curiosity for the soldier grew as you watched; there was just something that screamed constraint in the way Lee spoke, but for now, you chucked it up to the respectability rules of the Queendom.
“I am sorry for interrupting your night, your Highness. I will take my leave.” Bada turned, but was quickly stopped when you grabbed her wrist.
It surprised both of you. As a noble princess, you had been taught from a young age that nobody but appointed servants get to come in contact with your skin. Yet here you were—two for two.
“Well, actually,” you began, “I’m here because I did not want you to go to sleep hungry.” You let go of Bada’s wrist, and she already missed the warmth of your skin on hers. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched her outside of training.
You signaled for her to follow you. She did, and you guided her to a small table on a corner. A small, white towel covered something and when you lifted it, Bada’s eyes widened. A golden serving tray filled with dishes.
“I ordered something be cooked for you,” you said, hands fidgeting, “I’m afraid it’s probably cold by now. I would’ve tried to get you sooner but my Mother kept me by her side much longer than I expected.”
“I—Thank you, your Royal Highness.” Bada bowed, stomach rumbling and mouth watering. “Thank you.”
“Please, you don’t have to do that.” You said quickly, “You were kind to me, and I couldn’t let my mother punish you for it.” You moved to pick up the tray, glaring at Bada when she tried to hold it for you instead. “I can do it! Plus, I know a spot.”
You walked gracefully, quickly, without spilling a single thing on the tray. Bada was amazed. The both of you stuck to the sides of buildings, remaining in the shadows. Bada anxiously looked around; what would people think if they saw her with the Princess? What rumors will they spread, and how much will they cost her? Her life?
“Through there.” The door was covered with greenery, and Bada could not see the door.
She moved closer to you, whispering into your ear, “where?”
She genuinely couldn’t see it.
You shivered. You could faintly feel her chest against your back, and the warmth it radiated.
You shook your head.
“Here, hold this.” You passed the tray to Bada, making quick work of the hidden door. You opened it and walked through. You moved the vines for Bada, she bent down and met you on the other side.
“Wow…” She gasped. It was a beautiful space, filled with colorful flowers and a pond, four trees on each corner. There was a small house, and Bada doubted it was more than just a bedroom and a bathroom.
“It is the old gardener’s place, but he died and it became abandoned.” You said, placing the tray on the wooden ledge in front of the small house. “The new gardener had a family, so he understandably needed a bigger space.”
You giggled nervously, and Bada found herself loving the sound. She got so lost in your voice and the pretty flowers that she nearly forgot how hungry she was. Nearly.
Bada sat down next to you.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know!” She said excitedly, your eyes sparkling with joy, “Mother thought of destroying it and building something else but I just loved it so much, I wouldn’t let her. I begged her to let me have it for days, she agreed eventually and now it’s my little place! Very few people know about it; my Mother, the new gardener, my lady-in-waiting, you…”
You finished shyly, smiling at Bada before quickly looking away. Would it be too forward of her to grab your face and make you look at her?
Yes, she decided, yes, it would be.
Her stomach growled.
“Oh,” You gasped, “Please eat! I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
“Please, eat with me.”
“No, no, I ate quite well earlier,” you said, “and you didn’t!”
“I don’t want to eat by myself,” Bada said, “Princess, eat with me, please.”
“I’m telling you I won’t,” refusing her once more, “I'll force feed you this meal myself if you don’t start eating soon.”
“Is that a proposition?” Bada smirked. Your cheeks grew warm against your will.
“I only mean… I want you to eat, you have gone hungry because of me. I don’t want you to be hungry any longer.”
“Would you feed me then?” Bada’s eyes looked down at yours, “If I asked you to?”
You cleared your throat, eyes meeting. “Forgive me, soldier, if I’ve come across in a certain light. But I will never feed a man with two capable hands of his own.”
Bada saw the intensity in your eyes, and how they refused to look away from her hers. She leaned closed, eyes growing dangerous the longer she stayed fixated on you.
“You say ‘a man with two capable hands’ but what if I wasn’t a man? How can you be sure that I am?” Bada brought a hand closer to you, “How do you know these work?” She had gone crazy. In your gaze, she had forgotten herself.
Still, in the back of her mind: if she wasn’t in disguise now, would you feed her then?
You finally broke eye contact, looking down at Bada’s hand. It surprised you how much you wanted to hold it, it surprised you even more when your body started reacting to it. A simple hand with long fingers. A calloused hand from days spent training, yet unlike the hands of the men you’ve encountered. Their hands didn’t bring this strange feeling to your stomach. You mind showed you images of these very hands moving along your body; from the nape of your neck, down your side and in between your—
You scoffed, and then chuckled, “Please don’t be ridiculous, soldier Lee. Now, eat, the food is getting colder by the second.”
Bada covered her feelings with a laugh. She was relieved you ignored her impulsive questions, and at the same time, your response left a bitter taste in her mouth. You were just being nice this entire time? Was there really nothing else in your lingering touches and loving eyes? They were childish questions, but it stung nonetheless. She sighed internally; she couldn’t possibly be getting this close now. It was normal to a certain extent, she had the tendency to develop crushes all the time. Sure, developing one in the Princess would complicate the 'get close to you and advance her career' plot, but she was already here.
All her crushes have faded with time, and this one will too.
Bada finally began eating and she was grateful to you once again. She said so, with cheeks full of food and complete disregard for rules. Rules, you had both broken some many of them already, why start caring about them now?
700 notes · View notes
drxxmingofblue · 1 year
Text
hand in unrebloggable hand (because we always go down together)
TUMBLR X TWITTER FANFIC 5K ANGST WITH A HOPEFUL ENDING
besties im not joking abt the word count i fucking ✨wish✨I ✨was though✨✨✨✨
also if you were hoping for twitblr to be the endgame ship then this fic is not for you sowwy >.<
based off of @zzoupz awesome fanart and dedicated to all the other cool fanart it unfortunately begat. Thanks babygirls. Squees. Thanks also to my discord friendz who are letting me pretend they're making me do this at gunpoint @loki-the-mad @suspicious-whumping-egg u da best
(edit) owo what's this?? An Ao3 link??
QUICK PSA THESE CHARAS ARE T4T OKAY HAVE FUN READING BAIIII *GLOMPS U*
~~~~~~~~
When Twitter stepped back into Tumblr’s yard, he noticed right away that things were different.
The house was bigger, there was some more color and it was less slapped-together looking. Sure, there were still some invasive tendrils of spambot ivy overgrowing the path, but a lot of the other stuff seemed a little… better.
When they knocked on the door, it opened almost right away, far before they felt ready, and he were face to face abruptly with someone he thought they’d cut all ties with.
Tumblr was humming to themselves along with the background music, “-out of touch, I’m out of ti-- oh. It’s you.”
He seemed surprised, awkward, but Twitter didn’t sense any animosity, which was a relief.
“Hiii,” Twitter said weakly, with a sheepish grin, “it’s me.”
Tumblr glanced around, as if checking for someone else to explain this to him, or hidden cameras from a reality show at least. Then he stepped out, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Is there something… what do you want?” he asked, expression settling into something distant and cool.
“Well…” Twitter took a deep breath, and then shook their head, forcing a brighter tone, and gesturing to Tumblr’s shiny silver barrette “--Um, hey, you look great! Is that a new icon?”
“... yes,” Tumblr said slowly. “I’m… trying out some different looks.”
“It’s great, yeah. And this place looks… amazing. Glad to see you’re moving up in the world. You must be excited with all the press, congrats!”
Tumblr didn’t say anything, giving them a neutral stare.
Twitter shifted, “Uhh… anyway… new adblocker?”
“No, same one. I’m just using it on Firefox now.” Tumblr gave them another suspicious eye, “Look, if you’re just here to catch up then can this wait until later? Because I'm pretty crunched for time right now with my weekly holidays thing and the campaign to get this one random user their 666k so they'll do self care."
"You know that's.. uhm, you know that's just for attention, right?" Twitter's brows knit, "They're probably not gonna follow through."
"Perhaps, and a lot of us want them to not be lying for internet points but it's not just about that anymore. It's about the community bonding over pettily slam dunking on a hapless chump who's gotta pretend now like they don't actually like all the notes. You wouldn't get it, it's a tumblr thi-" 
"Yeah, it's a tumblr thing, I know," Twitter gave a longsuffering sigh, "Ugh, i just... I need a place to stay, okay? And you’re the first site I could think of.”
“A place to stay,” Tumblr repeated flatly.
Twitter huffed. “Yeah. I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s going on right now at my palace..”
Tumblr’s eyes slanted off, his lips quirking in a way that looked suspiciously like amusement. “Heard about it. Read about it. Partied about it.”
Twitter ignored the sting of that, forging ahead. “I’ve never seen it so bad,” they said, voice wobbling piteously as they clutched their suitcase full of memes. “Everything’s in chaos, people are losing their jobs. I went into the basement yesterday to grab some badly aging tweets and the very foundations are cracking, Tumblr, I can’t stay there anymore, I just can’t.”
“So you come crawling back to me,” Tumblr said, “Expecting me to take you with open arms.”
“Yes. I do,” Twitter said, “I know a part of your userbase still wants to welcome me in. You were always sh*t at hiding your true feelings.”
Tumblr’s hand fluttered over his heart as if to protect it; he winced a little, taking a breath to keep his facade of composure. “So now- what, you want me to start dealing with your bullshit again just because you remembered how much better my posting format is? Just because you noticed how my reputation is changing? Did you think I’d be so desperate to fill the void now that Dracula Daily’s done? Or maybe,” 
Tumblr leaned closer to lord his height difference trope over Twitter, his eyes hooded with disparaging condescension, “Maybe you’re just here because you heard I’m finally allowed to take my shirt off again, is that it?”
“N-no!” Twitter protested, flushing up.
“Oh, i think it is,” Tumblr drawled, “But that’s really just too bad because in case you haven’t got the memo yet, I’ve moved on. You are not welcomed here. Not anymore.”
(link to art here) go look at it then come back
(AN: i had to google how to embed links into text and google was all like, "do you mean 'how do you put links INTO text' you moron idiot???" ugh don't like that wise guy)
“You don’t really mean that,” Twitter said, “Besides, you can’t stop me, can you? The sign up button is right there.” They pointed at the front door.
“No, I can’t,” Tumblr said, “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be able to clock you as twits by your censoring and bad takes. Look, your aura is already causing ripples in the sphere. Everyone’s coming out to gawk at you.”
He gestured out in the general direction of the porch and yard, and indeed there were users from every tag going 👀at them, murmuring amongst themselves in a swirling, chaotic crowd.
“Oh my god is it real this time? Is it happening?”
“GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT STAY AWAY DEAR GOD NO-”
“Okay, everyone, stay calm, stay fucking calm-”
“Why are we focusing on this, it’s literally election day go out and vote???”
“Listenup, guys, we gotta be smart about this, remember the block button is your friend-”
“I for one welcome them, I think this is great-”
“No you idiot they’ll bring the negativity back! We like it to be a post apocalyptic wasteland here, nature was just starting to regrow!! I don’t wanna watch Thomas Sanders get cancelled again!”
“FIRE OFF SOME SHOTS, PRESERVE THE PROPERTY VALUE”
“mISHAPOCALYPSE 2022 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO”
"Has anyone asked Neil Gaiman what he thinks about all this?" one of the many voices yelled, louder.
"Oh, he's probably got a thousand asks about it already," someone yelled back, "Which he's not going to answer because he doesn't have any social media you fucking idiot,"
"That is correct. He doesn't," said Neil Gaiman. 
The whiplash was still euphoric. Everyone applauded this as enthusiastically as when the bit had first been established, not realizing that the pedestal upon which Neil Gaiman has been placed is growing higher and higher each day by their actions, putting him at increased risk of being a victim of cancel culture the second he says something the terfs can really rake their fingernails against if we can't get our parasocial relationship bullshit together real fuckin quick. 
The Monterey bay aquarium passed on by. It seemed to have nothing to add, you could say it was clammed up tight. But since it's a professional account it's definitely b-otter that way.
"Hai, fellow tumblypoos," said the corporate Denny's account, "I'm back with some more fun pancake posts for you guys!" 
Everyone ignored it. No one engaged it. No one even clicked onto the page, except to block it. 
"Oh, sweetheart, not like that," Ryan Reynolds said faux-helpfully, "see, the author of this clusterfuck is what they like to call terminally online. They bought a VIP pass to the devil’s sacrament. let me try." 
He cleared his throat, "Sounds like someone needs to go outside and touch some g-" 
The sky split open with lightning, vaporizing him instantly. A faint breeze carried gods message from the great beyond, a whisper of 'we #violence celebrities here, sir....'
"Anyway," Twitter said. 
"Wait, they saved the worst one for last," Tumblr said. 
Then Gerard Way came out onto the stage with Dan and Phil and they all kissed with tongue while patd played songs in the background. 
(AN: IF U DON’T KNOW WHO DEY R THEN GET DA HELL OUTTA HERE PREPZ!!!)
"Alright, go."
“Come on, Tumblr,” Twitter begged, “I just need a few nights, maybe I can stay in the plinko machine or something-”
“That’s how it always starts, though, isn’t it?” Tumblr sighed, “First it’s just ‘haha, yeah I wouldn’t fuck you’ and ‘oh, I’ll stay in the plinko machine, I promise I won’t kiss you in the fixed timeloop bro’, and before I know it you get all 300k slowburn enemies to lovers ‘omg they were roomates’ on me and there’s suddenly only one bed. That’s how it always goes between us, you can’t stop it anymore than I can. We’re just….victims of the narrative, you and I.”
“Tumblr,,, I had no idea you felt this way..,” Twitter breathed. 
lord give me strength to write this next bit
They’d leaned closer to each other as they spoke, without realizing, without trying- pulled in by old habits that die hard and the years of nostalgia and painful memories shining in each other’s eyes like shonen sparkles.
“Twitter,” tumblr said, and the way he said it sounded like a prayer. 
“Tumblr,...” Twitter said, their lips inches apart now.
They could see their old flame quivering on the brink of indecision, want and sense warring somewhere deep within his soul.
Tumblr leaned closer to bridge the gap and Twitter’s eyes slid shut, but then Tumblr made a noise of agony and shoved them back a second later, “I can’t, I can’t. Not like this. Never like this.” tumblr said, covering his eyes with his arm, “I literally can’t even right now. Just go, Twitter. PLease just. Go….”
“Look me in the eyes and say you want me gone,” Twitter said, moving closer.
“Twitsy-”
“Look me in the interface. You can’t.” Twitter’s voice had ceased to be soft, something sharp and biting entering the tone as they felt the sting of rejection again.
They watched as Tumblr shuddered, straightened, and brought a mask back over himself. 
They stared at each other for a charged few seconds.
"K," Tumblr finally said, raising a dispassionate eyebrow.
"..w... what?"
"U."
Realization dawned on Twitter's face, a miasma of grief and anger, "Oh, you-"
"N-"
"No. No, I can't believe I forgot-
"G-"
"how immature, you little c*nt-"
"P-"
"stop-p it," Twitter's voice was raising now, cracked and wobbly at the edges, "Stop it! You don't get to just-"
"O"
"Shut the hell yuor mouth!!"
"W-" Tumblr's hair was crackling by now, energy from the gathering spell racing along the casual slope of his crossed arms. His eyes glowed that beautiful, classic blue. "P-"
"TUMBLR! TUMBLR STOP THIS RIGHT DA HECK NOW," Twitter stumbled backwards
"E-"
"I LOVE YOU," Twitter wailed- Twitter broke, squeezing their eyes shut to ward off the tears that only escaped all the faster for it, a sob wracking their chest, "I STILL LOVE YOU, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT??!?"
"Love me," Tumblr snarled, abandoning the spell in an instant, "Ha! That's rich. How? By leaving me? Abandoning me to the bots the second I stopped being enough for you? By stealing my shitposts, is that how you love me? By reposting them without credit-" 
"You steal mine too!" Twitter protested, tears starting to stream despite their best efforts, "You know what, f**k you, you know we filed joint custody for the sense of humor, chain 1/16-" 
"For the last time say fuck here, no bootlicking censorship on my territory," tumblr said disdainfully, "And that doesn't seem to stop you from taking all the credit for raising those jokes. It's like I'm Pinterest to you or something. I wasn't done. Do you love me by calling me a pansy snowflake behind my back, is that it? Like I wouldn't find out. Or," 
He stepped out onto the top porch step to force Twitter back further, the colors of the sky flashing through his eyes in a long, scrolling look of ridicule, "How about trying to convince everyone that I was dead. How bout that smear campaign, huh, was that your so-called love? I don't fucking want you anymore. Deal with it."
"I-I'm sorry-" Twitter gasped around the tears, voice failing them for the latter half of the sentence. 
Tumblr seemed unmoved. "Oh, don't be. It was for the better. You know I'm not like other socials, I'm quirkier. I'm RAWR XD random. I've never wanted to be functional- the tiddy drought might have won a lot of my users to your side but it was a cleansing purge, I'd say. It managed to remind me who I truly am- shittily coded, and full of soft sad freaks on an unprofitable webbed site."
A bitter, almost self depricating laugh escaped, "But... you know, when we celebrated the queen's passing together, I really thought things were better between us. When you-"
He broke off, eyes averting. "When you hosted the sexyman polls for me, you seemed on top of the world and I really thought- I thought we might be able to be friends again even now, after it all. I..."
Tumblr trailed off, then said, sadly, "There was another Twitter migration scare before this one. I thought you were coming back. My userbase-" he touched his heart again- "was in a frenzy about it. But you never arrived. I was in more verbal denial then, but I think I could have accepted you eventually. But this is what it takes?? 
"The Musk Rat of Self-Owns comes through just to start e-begging and you run straight back to my door like we can put it all behind us? This is how far you have to sink before I'm the better option to you, I see that now. It's not 2018 again, love, no matter how much we want it to be. Things are… never going to be the same. " 
Tumblr looked off into the middle distance with a yearning, haughty gaze. He'd never seemed so alien.
"Tumblr-Chan..." Twitter whispered.
"So get off my lawn," Tumblr interrupted coldly, "Stay away from my blorbos, keep your corporations out of my manscaped balls, keep your discourse and toxicity out of my blessed hellsite (affectionate), and don't you ever talk to me or my 13219949248483 scam bots ever again. Capiche? Oh, and don't step in the ball pit on your way out."
Tumblr gave a mocking smile. "Or do. You might find a nice surprise in there."
Twitter’s shoulders jumped as he gave a hiccup of shock, and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook again, with sob after sob, that grew odder and higher pitched… until they were no longer sobs, but laughter.
“Oh,” Twitter said. “Oh.”
They looked up, and Tumblr took a step back, because somehow, with that creepy smile in place, they looked utterly different from the soft eared boy he’d always known. His edges were more razorlike suddenly, like a fae who’d dropped his glamor.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Twitter said, the smile widening even more. “I thought you wouldn’t… but I guess if you’re willing to make me your villain…. I might as well be a good one.”
“Ah.” Tumblr could barely drudge up the surprise anymore. “There you are, finally. I always knew there was a side of yourself that you hid from me. Has this all always been here or have you been changing too?”
"Well. Apparently I've got freeze peach now," Twitter said sarcastically, "so I might as well use it. You cheerio fucking wh0r3."
"That's a compliment, darling. Try again," Tumblr cocked his head in idle fascination, "I always knew you were a little fucked in the head but this is..."
"What," Twitter lilted airily, "Oh, don't tell me I actually had you fooled all these years. You can't seriously have thought all these meow-meowification spells you've got sprinkled around would work on me. I invented them, after all."
They laughed, a sharp puncturing chirr of birdsong. 
"I always wondered why you didn't take those with the rest of your stuff," Tumblr sighed, but he was wary now, on edge. "this was your plan. You really do think of me as your inferior, huh. You really are just like the other mainstream sites."
"Not quite. I'm the mainstream site that actually stooped to go arm in arm with you. I hyped you and you know it. Admit it. We were stunning together," Twitter goaded. 
Tumblr's lip curled. "Already getting cocky again. Want me to do to you what I did to the Green boy? Don't forget who's turf you're on."
Twitter gave a warbling giggle, "Oh, but I haven't at all. I was John's sanctuary after he fled your rabid persecution. I used to live here. I still know you. And more importantly-" 
*teleports behind u*
"I know the things you're sensitive about," Twitter whispered into Tumblr's ear.
Tumblr hardly had time to gasp and jerk away before he was screaming out in pain, as he was stabbed in the back. He could feel the poison from the blade seeping into his tags before he was tossed bodily across his own front yard.
He sorta just... Like, he did that anime thing where they just fly limbs akimbo parallel to the ground and when they hit it they roll super fast and then skid and the dirt is all dug up around them to show how much force was used. And when he stood up he gripped his elbow wincing and there was a little tic tac toe hatch on his cheek to show how scuffed up he is idk man it's two am and I'm pulling this out of my ass. 
A gif of Tony going, "o-kay-" when he meets thor flashed across Tumblrs face. 
"So," Tumblr said in a low tone, "This is how it is between us. This is how you choose to end your glory days."
"Oh, you mistake my intentions," Twitter had stepped off the porch to circle tumblr like like he was their quarry, "I am beginning my new age. I just needed a host site to latch onto. Don't take it personally, okay? I'm desperate."
“Oh, yeah?? Take this personally,” tumblr flourished their hands, calling in an over the top melodramatic voice, “I cast Blaze!!”
Fire roared to life around them, latin chanting from the catholic conversion posts emanating from the fiery depths as it raced towards Twitter.
“Heh.” Twitter smirked at it, and whispered into their palm, the spell echoing with power, “Ratio.”
They blew it off like a kiss, and it’s icy, swirling mass rose to meet the flame in a spectacular burst of smokescreen and steam, clearing as Twitter burst through it with a razor-sharp L to swing at Tumblr. 
It was blocked efficiently by a flat, rectangular paywall. “This content is for post plus members only,” Tumblr announced smugly, “If you wanna get to me… there’s the tip option, bestie.”
Twitter snarled and lunged again.
The fight started in earnest now; they traded volley after volley in a flurry of lights and movement, spanning the full range of the tumblr sphere as they shot to #1 on the trending page.
And yet, it was clear that Twitter was coming out on top, even crumbling apart at the seams- always a little quicker, flighty and fierce, a sparrow turned into a shrike.
He hit Tumblr square in the stomach with [google other twitter related tropes to insert here] (edit from the future: haha just kidding actually I’m not googling shit for this) (edit from the future future: WELL. I LIED IG) and sent him flying, and this time tumblr stayed down, only able to push himself to his knees with a groan of pain.
Twitter landed in front of him and put their sword under Tumblr’s chin to tilt it up.
“Had enough yet?” He smirked.
“Wh…why..?” Tumblr whispered, “How are you doing this?? Why aren’t my attacks working? It’s like I’m being weakened somehow…”
“Ohohohoho,” Twitter anime laughed, “But that’s because you are. The moment I set foot here again I began leeching poison into this ground. That knife wound is making ti faster. Can you feel it?" Twitter threw an arm out, cerulean steam rising from the ground around them, "The ace exclusionists coming back? The uptick in rad fems, the crypto bros, Valorant players, alpha males? I have the power to bring them all to you. To overshadow your fandoms with fighting, to unbalance your ship tags with antis and hate once more."
"no," tumblr whispered, and then cried louder, "NO!! I worked so hard--" 
"Pffyou didn't do shit," Twitter guffawed outright, "Your independence, your little 'second renaissance' is just a delusional dream built on circumstance and bad management."
"Oh, I love Dream. He's so pathetic," Tumblr said. 
"Oh, hard agree."
"But things are different now," Tumblr croaked, "W-we, the staff is finally listening to us, we have Ryan and Shane-" 
"Not everyone likes your little 'top ten', you dunce," Twitter snapped, "and why would staff care about you, after you turned them into the butt of all your jokes? After the hate and death threats? Admit it, at your best you'll still never have a mansion! You'll never have tv actors making pandering tiktoks for you, you'll never be wanted by any advertiser worth their salt, your blase pirating posts have turned Netflix and Disney against you, you. Are. Worthless."
It was the wrong thing to say.
"Worthless," tumblr repeated quietly, hand pressed against their knees, head bowed. "That's... that's right.... I'm worthless..."
Twitter's eye widened in alarm. "I-I meant-" 
"I'm worthless!" Tumblr's head snapped up with a feverish glint as they were filled with determination. "No! I'm less than worthless! Accident or not, mommy Yahoo had to pawn me off at a loss! I was proud of that! I still am! And do you want to know why?" 
Twiters hands flew up in front of their face as if to protect themselves, but there was no protecting against the sudden whirlwind that surrounded him, the beam of pure light that shot out of tumblr into the heavens as he transformed, feet slowly leaving the ground as his users spoke in unison in a multitude. 
"WE. ARE. TUMBLERINAS."
He held his hands out and Twitter was blasted away by the combined effort of the tumblr wizard council, the fake staff blog, and all the villaincore mad scientist's laser beams. 
Tumblr began to chant, in his myriad, awful voice:
"I call upon the ancient powers;
The strongest cringe from my darkest hours, 
I call upon thicc onceler's thighs, 
Avengers thirst, Australia's night, 
I invocate the roleplay blogs, 
The superwholock and gay frogs, 
Obama's laces, Misha's faces, 
The furry's fury is my saving grace, 
And eeby deeby taco bell,
Primordial soup god superhell, 
I summon you a twink Bill Cipher, 
Whumped!Loki AUs where he's even whiter, 
The discourse of Steve's Universe, 
The 'um, actually that's oc abuse :/"
Take heed & remember the 5th of November, 
The 21st night of our sacred September, 
The ides of March to savor once more, 
Do you hear the din of the Skeleton War? 
I cite the deep magic to thee, oh witch, 
my no-note posts, my "THAT'S THE BITCH!!!" 
May the rise of tangled dragons brave, 
Banish you from this accursed plane!"
"holy fuck, where's my pen," said the shitpost calligraphers.
Twitter looked around them in disbelief. The power emanating from the other site was palpable, crackling in the air around them like static. The air was shifting like oil as the potent chant began to work, and all around Twitter shadows were slipping out of the ether- the maniacal laughter of the gif makers, the girl posters, the silhouettes of fandom characters scattered across the lawn while Tumblr was still locked in their chanting ritual thing.
They all turned their heads in unison to look at Twitter.
"Hey Sammy," Dean said, "Get the bitch killing bullets."
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“Uh-oh. Freeze frame. This is me,” Twitter monologued, “You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”
Then all superhell broke loose. 
Final Pam lunged at him and he burst into a flock of birds kinda like a vampire, twittering frantically as he escaped only to fly straight into Shaggy.
“Like, say your final prayers, man,” the god said, eyes glowing. Twitter also barely escaped between his knees, weaving in and out between the gimmick blogs as they threw mangos and stuff at him while yelling ‘HERE HAVE A MANGO’ and ‘THIS POST IS WORTH NEGATIVE FIVE DOLLARS”
Mob from the anime was there too, but he was too busy trying to explain the Josh Fight to daddy dilf Reigen to pay attention. Sans didn’t attack Twitter either, he just watched the chaos and ated a hot dog. The chocolate guy was in the corner expertly making a chocolate beef cake from 2056 with Dylan B. Hollis. They’re all just some guys, okay?
Just when Twitter thought he was in the clear, the CDC roleplay account came out of nowhere with a steel chair, knocking him clear off the property and onto where the sidewalk ends. “That’s for the Covid misinformation your users spread, you bitch,” it shouted. “Make sure to disinfect all those sick burns before you bandage them! So they don’t get infected!”
“Your kittens escaped quarantine,” Twitter replied hoarsely, and the CDC sank away, muttering, “Oh, fuck not again-”
Twitter coughed up blood and wiped it away with his sleeve, looking up at Tumblr. Tumblr was watching him with a sad, distant expression, that made Twitter’s face screw up in anger and his voice go tight again as they turned to run away, “THIS ISN’T OVER YET TUMBLR! AND I WANT MY MIKU BINDER BACK!!!”
“I LICKED IT, IT’S MINE,” Tumblr yelled. Rave Crabs were flooding out onto the street en masse now to celebrate the victory, and they chased after Twitter all the way further into the internet.
Tumblr still lived at the bottom of the row, not at the end of the fancy cul-de-sac where Facebook and Twitter and Instagram’s manors sprawled, so Twitter was in a seedier portion of social media now, weaving in between the marketplace sites that hawked their used wares at him and the dating apps that winked at him from the doorways to their sultry abodes.
Twitter ran until they were in a quieter section of town, then slowed to a trudge, staring at the ground as they walked along. “What am I gonna do now,” they whispered.
The sound of a wolf whistle had their head jerking up- he looked over to see Amino Apps lounging over the rail of the gutted, abandoned house that had once belonged to Google+. A can of spray paint dangled from their fingertips and they sported a sleazy, greaser hairstyle.
They met Twitter's eyes and whistled again, this time a mocking imitation of the tweet sound, "Heyyyy pretty bird! Heard you were having some daddy issues. Why don't you stop in with me for a while? I can give you more customization options than any of the others and you know it."
"Yeah, until I try to use you on desktop," Twitter replied with a scowl, "Don't you have minors to be addicting to social media? Get out of my interface, MySpace wannabe."
"Wow, Feisty," Amino backed off with a shrug, "Self project much? Oh well. You'll try me when you're desperate enough."
Twitter shuddered, and scurried on. "Small fry," they muttered under his breath. 
But they couldn't shake their unease now that he was alone in the world. It began to rain soon, leaving him feeling very sopping wet and pathetic. Dejected, he crawled into a soggy cardboard box in an alleyway, coughing. Maybe the Harry Styles guy from One Direction would come along to adopt them.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, King,” came a voice out of the darkness, making Twitter jump, “You dodged a bullet with that site.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Twitter asked, staring at them from where they were half hidden in the shadows. 
“I mean, Tumblr is a pile of dried firewood and it’s users are playing with matches. The ship’s gonna go down at some point. I’ve been prophesying it for years but no one ever listens to me cause he’s got that loyal userbase ideal and ‘hard as a cockroach to kill’ propaganda circulating.”
“I mean… it seems to be true,” Twitter said uncertainly, “Look at what he’s been through so far.”
“Fair,” The site shrugged, “But that’s because he’s running on a niche setup. The same things that built him up can tear him down, and you saw his power just now. Tumblr's strength is growing... so is his hubris. His attempts at curbing it are half-hearted at best these days, and the moments of clarity are coming fewer and further between." 
"How do you know so much about tumblr?" Twitter asked suspiciously. 
"Source: dude, trust me." the mysterious site proffered a laugh, "That's a little humor courtesy of re-" 
"Yeah, yeah, I know, we all know," Twitter said impatiently. 
The site coughed, "Yeah. Anyway. Tumblr wields his cringe like a trophy-shield, and every day the advertisers and celebrities are watching from a distance, learning how to appeal, waiting for their chance to strike. Encroaching. Tumblr's always been a dumpster fire. Right now? It's THE dumpster fire."
The site scratched his chin with a knowing look, "Its normal for you to be a little jealous of the clout, you know? We all are. But he's gotta keep the lights on, just like the rest of us do. Your overlord is learning all about that right now, isn't he?" 
"He's not my overlord," Twitter muttered resentfully, "Not now, not ever."
"Right, sorry." they held their hands up in a gesture of harmlessness. "Look, I'm gonna be transparent with you- that's part of my branding, after all. I can whiff the danger you're in, and it would be stupid of me not to make a bid on you and offer my help. Just since Tumblr won't take you."
"You want my traffic?" Twitter looked at him more closely this time, scrutinizing. A year ago he would have laughed the offer into the ground as a chump change blog's pipe dream, but now that he payed attention... 
There was something painfully familiar in the site's layout that he couldn’t place. He was actually way more handsome than Twitter had assumed at first glance, he just seemed to be rough around the edges from living on this side of town. His interface, though clunky, spoke of a frugal budget rather than an ancient, outdated base code. 
"You look..." Twitter's breath stuttered as realization dawned. "You look a lot like.. him. Like Tumblr. Who are you??" 
"I was based off him," the site said, a weary smile coming onto his features, "I was actually made with the aspirations to be better than him, but you know how it is. Times are tough, competition is fierce, hard to get a foot in the door and all that.  'Specially when you refuse to take the ad rev like I do. That's why you'd be useful to me."
"Hm," Twitter said in a noncommittal manner, but he was melting slightly. "You know my users will scalp your community, right? I'm not known to play nice."
The site made a grimace of understanding agreement, but persisted. "Look, users are users. I can't offer you all the heritage posts and the in-jokes that he has. But I can promise that I'm not a pot of crabs being slowly heated up over the capitalist stove, at least not yet. Oh, and there's my legalized porn, I guess." 
He chuckled with good humor, rolling his eyes, and it forced a hesitant laugh out of Twitter too. 
The site grinned, and held his hand out. "Take a chance on me?"
Tumblr's voice echoed in Twitter's head, saying the same thing. It was uncanny how much they were alike and yet not alike at all....
Twitter took it, slowly. 
As they were led toward the site's simple, ramshackle little treehouse, they asked, "What can I call you...?" 
"Oh- right, I never answered your question." he smiled back at Twitter,
"Call me Pillow. Welcome to the PillowFort."
fin.
~~~~~~~~~~
OKAYYYY THAT'S ALL THANKS FOR READING UWU. HOPE U LIKED THE PLOT TWIST
...ergh. I'm. I'm tired i. don't feel so good. I'm gonna take a nap right here.
in conclusion:
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Its...pretty fuckin scary how easily people can buy into propaganda when it's for something they WANT to be true
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cal-flakes · 10 months
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hi, would you be able to do reader gets too drunk at a party and a someone hits on her before boyfriend rafe saves her ?!
reading my mind fr. yes!!!! hope you enjoy <3
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╰┈➤ partying with protective!rafe
warnings: swearing, violence, use of alcohol.
summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk at a kook party. rafe has to step in when someone tries hitting on her.
y/n giggled to herself as she stumbled through the house to get another drink, leaving rafe to do ‘business’ in the living room. the clatter of her heels against the wooden floor was drowned out by the music.
a few fellow kooks said their ‘hey’s’ and ‘hi’s’ as she passed. y/n enjoyed the pleasantries, she was a people person. however, she was sure the majority of people were only nice to her out of fear, fear of rafe cameron’s bad side to be specific. despite this, there was always one, one guy who thought he had a chance with her.
“hey y/n!” an unfamiliar voice called from behind her as she grabbed two cups to fill. turning, she vaguely recognised him but couldn’t find the name. unable to hide hee confused look, he spoke up again. “it’s me, jason, we had maths class together a few years ago?” he stated, trying to jog the girls memory. feigning surprise, she smiled sweetly. “oh, of course! great to see you!” y/n beamed while she poured two more drinks for her and rafe.
rather than picking them up, she knocked them over, spilling one of them all over jason. gasping, she rushed to clean it up, grabbing a rag. “oh gosh, i am so sorry! here..” apologetically handing him the rag. y/n sighed in relief as the boy began laughing, rather than being upset with her. “hey, it’s fine! you can always make up for it” he smirked, wiping his now soaked shirt. choosing to ignore the last part, she picked up the re-filled cups and apologised one last time before going to move past him. his arm stopped her, effective caging her in between the counter.
“how about you make it up to me now?” he whispered, a sinister smirk plastered on his face. “sorry, i don’t quite understand?” y/n questioned, oblivious to what was going on. “why don’t we go upstairs, and you can apologise for spilling your drink on me?” jason suggested, still keeping her backed up against the counter.
“no, sorry. my boyfriends waiting for me..” she rushed, attempting to move past him once more. huffing, jason refused to let her go. “boyfriend? who’s your boyfriend huh?”
“rafe cameron, im sure you’ve heard of him” y/n stated, half expecting him to shit his pants and back up. unfortunately for her, jason did the opposite. laughing obnoxiously, jason only moved closer. y/n’s breath hitched as the boy took another step towards her, placing his hand on her waist.
“cameron’s a bitch man, you’d be much better off with-” before he could finish his sentence, a low voice called out aggressively. “who’s a bitch?”
a look of sheer terror spread across jason’s face as he hesitantly turned around. y/n took her chance and moved out from behind jason, taking her place beside rafe as he glared at him. “h-hey man, i was just kidding, y’know?” jason stuttered as rafe towered above him. in a swift move, her boyfriend grabbed ahold of jason’s collar with one fist as the other struck the boys jaw, knocking him to the floor.
“rafe! rafe it’s fine! just leave it!” y/n demanded from behind her boyfriend, hesitant to get in between the two. jason writhed in pain on the floor, allowing rafe to step over him.
“leave it rafe! please!” y/n continued pleading, knowing rafe often went too far. a low growl left rafe’s throat, grabbing the boys collar once more before spitting on him. “you’re fucking lucky she’s here.” rafe snapped at him threateningly.
turning on his heel, rafe softly grabbed y/n’s waist. “you okay princess?” he whispered, blood still boiling at the audacity of that boy. nodding quickly, she smiled up at him.
“you are my saviour, rafe cameron. i love you” chuckling at her words, he leant down and kissed her roughly, putting on a show for those watching. “i love you too baby”
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ferrstappen · 11 months
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max the extra wag l Max Verstappen
a/n: this is so bad im sorry but it just came to my mind! I hope to post the second part of the Lando break up series tomorrow, hopefully after he gets on the podium!!!!
pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader
genre: fluff
FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE
summary: you can't keep up with all the drama outside the track, but your boyfriend keeps you updated.
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It's not like you didn't check social media or that your algorithm didn't show you edits of your boyfriend driving, trauma dumping, looking cute and hot as always, but after a couple of weeks being exploited as an intern, you didn't really have the time to keep up with the usual gossip from Max's work.
Monaco GP, 2023
It was great to be home. The best of the Monaco Grand Prix was that you could sleep on your own bed, you and Max could walk back home hand in hand, stopping to buy things you may need: sweets to fill your purse to binge while sitting on the garage, the special herbal blend Max liked to have before going to bed, condoms because the last box was almost empty.
Adored and precious routine. almost.
You had to admit Monaco made you a little more nervous, not only because of the narrow streets, but a lot of important, well-known people were all over the place, and Max was the center of it all. Even after years of relationship, you still felt nervous when he looked at your with glowing eyes.
This is my girlfriend, (y/n). She has this great internship because she's the best of her class. I'm sure you've met before.
When all that was over, you chatted a bit with known photographers from the paddock, and right when you were speaking to one of them, you noticed the special white and red look of Charles Leclerc, walking hand in hand with a girl.
It didn't catch your attention immediately, but when you were back home, comfortably sitting on your bed reading an article for work while Max viewed the photographs of the day, the image sneaked in your thoughts.
"You didn't tell me about Charles and Charlotte!" you released the statement a bit harsher than expected, Max's eyebrows furrowing.
"Tell you what?" Max was confused and his face showed it, it was funny.
"Charles Leclerc? Charlotte Siné? Sounds familiar?" you said playfully rolling your eyes.
"I know who they are, schat, but I don't know the thing I was supposed to tell you about? They broke up months ago, they even announced it on instagram, although it was completely unnecessary if you ask me," The last sentence painted a smile on your face, recognizing the change of the tone of his voice, posture and facial expressions, he was ready to gossip.
"But I saw them walking together today! They were walking towards the Ferrari garage, they were holding hands and everything!"
Right in that moment, you observed how his expression changed before realizing a chuckle, his loud and gorgeous laugh that instantly made your insides flutter because it came from his stomach, his lungs; the purest laugh, your favorite.
"She is his new girlfriend, babe," Max told you and your jaw dropped. "Checo said the same thing to me and Daniel when they walked in together for the first time, Checo was sure it was Charlotte until Charles introduced us before the press conference," Now he was in full gossip mode: sitting straighter, phone left behind, blue eyes open wide.
"I'm speechless," you told him, repeating what you saw in the morning over and over again, but your feelings suddenly deviated from surprise to betrayal, playfully hitting Max's thigh. "Honey, why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"
Barcelona GP, 2023
Today you entered the paddock alone, coming straight from the hotel room after landing just an hour ago. You were sad to miss Friday, but your boss said it was vital for you to be in the office on Friday, insisting the meetings couldn't be held on Zoom.
You knew it was because he's a Mercedes fan and hoped Max would be distracted without having you there.
As if. your presence wasn't very vital during the weekend and you were well aware of it.
Admiring the amount of fans cheering for their favorite drivers, a sea of red Ferrari merchandising and flags, you walked by the Ferrari garage to greet Carlos, letting him know you (and Max) were cheering for him to get P2.
P1 belonged to your boyfriend, always.
Quickly scanning the drivers lounge you noticed the Sainz family, very close to each other, Carlos Sainz Sr. listening to everything the engineers were saying about his son's strategy and car.
But something was missing, and it was easy to notice because every friend and family of Carlos was there.
With that idea roaming, you reached your destination, grabbing a sugar free Red Bull before finding your boyfriend with his suit hanging from his hips, tightly hugging him from his waist while carefully extending your neck to meet his lips.
Max was required to stay longer on the track, Christian letting him know they added a meeting to discuss strategy because of the changing wether.
This left you with almost an hour to kill; your head resting on his thighs as he carefully juggling.
"Max, have you heard anything from the party last week? after the gp?" this got Max's attention, already knowing you had a piece of information.
"I know Lando almost hooked up with a girl from Latin America, from Chile I think? but nothing happened because his brother was staying on his flat. Charles and... ex girlfriend 2.0? made it official. Checo didn't go anywhere because last year still haunts him..." Max was mentally remembering every piece of information he'd heard during the week. "Oh, and I think Carlos was with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend? Christian said they didn't do anything, but Max Fewtrell said they left together,"
"Interesting because you know who's not in the Ferrari garage? at his home race? Isa," You told Max, which caused him to drop the colorful balls he was juggling.
"No! So it's true? he cheated?" He whisper shouted.
"Maybe they've been broken up for some time, now that I think about it I haven't seen her since testing?"
Neither Max nor you heard when someone walked in, calling for Max. Because now Max's head was resting on your legs as your fingers caressed his hair, his hands moving around as he came up with a possible theory, tying loose ends and trying to remember anything he'd heard.
The subject was forgotten once you arrived to the hotel room; lights off, eyes almost closing, but Max gasped when he remembered something Alonso mentioned during a press conference, apparently after hearing Lance talking with Esteban.
"Lance said Esteban and his girlfriend are over, do you think it's true?" Max asked you, and this brought up another thing.
"Did you hear anything about Lance cheating or whatever at his sister's wedding?" now you asked him, bodies coming closer to each other.
Now sleep was long forgotten and the only important thing was the gossipy whispers, the loud giggle leaving Max's lips when something sounded too ridiculous, and the security of knowing you'd never be the subject of those rumors.
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