#<- technically not but just for sorting purposes

[kkoffin]

i’m absolutely by no means… well educated on the topic of eugenics, and tbh i hadn’t gotten up to that part in the book (or the pro-life part) when i made this post (maybe a poor decision on my part to recommend books and advertise them as radfem before i’ve actually finished them) This isn’t me rly answering ur question regarding if it’s a fair claim, i might also be a person screaming “eugenics!!” when not rly. idk! this is just. somewhat in self defence regarding me being like “this book is great!!”, particularly concerned i’ll get allegations of being pro-eugenics or smthin.

far as i’m in now, it’s certainly not “yeah disabled people and black people shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce” or anything, moreso “oopsie we had overpopulation issue so uhhh some were chosen to not have children” with a side of “we politely suggest criminals/bad-behavers don’t have children, if they do, they’ll be educated by others” it does also literally refer to this stuff as “negative eugenics”. so. i guess yeah it is eugenics.

they’re all the same race, they’re technically. somewhat clones of one another? they are white, but it’s not like they’ve intentionally rid of darker skin tones. I don’t think it’s “based on eugenist themes” - they just had to address the overpopulation thing in order to not have a plot hole, and then i guess. had to explain who’s chosen to not reproduce. it would be rly hard to say there’s racial eugenics. maybe ur normal “savages” and “developed countries” terminology, but the eugenics has no link to race. there’s also definitely a huge thing for “motherhood”, but there’s no “divine purpose” or anything for said motherhood. it’s never implied it’s women’s sole purpose, but it does imply that motherhood is like… the ultimate joy?

i’m still not done the book!! maybe it gets way worse! so far i’m just pretending chapter 6 wasn’t real. also worth mention, i almost always go into books 100% blind. when i made this post, simply had not gotten up to that part + had not googled anything about the book. again, that was dumb of me. apologies. tbh now, having gotten up to those parts, i would’ve considered my words a lot more + probably spoken to someone who’s read the book and knows more about the ethicality of these sorts of things.

I need everyone in radblr to go buy urself a copy of "Herland"(1915(?)) by Charlotte Perkins Gilman as soon as possible. Yall do not understand. I cannot believe this isn't like, basic radfem/female separatist literature already.

Same author as "The Yellow Wallpaper", three men find a land consisting of only women which is a literal utopia. The men question their own failures in patriarchal society while the women of this land politely exchange information with them about their own lands.

You have no idea how therapeutic this book is. men casually say "oh no man can do that!" and the women respond "oh, no man? can women do it?" and the men go "oh yeah, also no women". There's also such brilliant regular feminist thinking through the book;

"These women... were strikingly deficient in what we call "femininity". this led me very promptly to the conviction that those "feminine charms" we are so fond of are not feminine at all, but mere reflected masculinity- developed to please us because they had to please us, and in no way essential to real fulfillment of their great process."

Insane for 1915 and such a fucking relief and pleasure to read. I hope all the anons who have asked me about radfem books see this bc yall NEED IT

[justabeewithapen]

Hi! So as I’m writing the fanfic for your TV AU, can you explain Tenna’s roles between the Light World and the Dark World in detail? Like, what happens when class is in session and when it’s out of session? I want it to be as accurate as possible lol 🌈🎨🎭

This is going to be a wall of text so take this doodle as a little treat ehehehe!

Starting with the Lightworld! As the new classroom TV (they didn’t have an old one but he still takes this responsibility very seriously!!) his main use is on Fridays when the kids get to watch a bit of a movie or documentary or episode of a show (all educational of course) at the end of class. He also gets use on days when they have tests planned or if it is too rainy/cold outside to hold recess. When he was first moved into the classroom he was only brought into the room when it was one of those special TV Time occasions, but now, he practically lives in the corner on his TV Cart.

The reason he gets to hang around the classroom even when it isn’t TV Time is because the kids in Toriel’s classroom have sort of adopted him as a class pet! Now, these are younger kids, they didn’t need an excuse to love a TV (anything to not do class work, even if Toriel often gives them worksheets to fill out during TV Time) but Susie’s been putting in WORK! She made sure these little kids knew his name and how “very cool” he was, spinning them tales of “Mr. Tenna’s adventures” with a few very inserts of other Darkners (especially Lancer). Is she just mostly stealing plots from movies she has seen? Oh 100%, but she promised him an audience that would care about him again, and by goodness she is going to deliver!!

Him and his TV stand tend to live in the corner of Toriel’s classroom when not in use, though he does still spend time in the extra classroom for storage or the storage closet (aka Castle Town). Susie and/or Kris are known to move him there after school gets out for hanging out purposes. Sometimes in Toriel’s classroom he gets used, but not even as a TV! During those rainy/cold days him and his TV stand make for a perfect support in a blanket fort, or a base for a block tower on his shelves. Sometimes he even gets to visit the older kid classroom (usually after big projects or tests) and he gets to see his stars again…

While outside of the dark world he isn’t *technically* sentient, but he is still aware and watching from his side even if that side only exists when he is in the dark world. Speaking of!

Castle town/his perspective on things!!

While not actually able to interact with the class, he takes his role as a TV Teacher very very seriously! During times when he is playing a show or movie he is always commentating and quipping on the action and “fun facts” related to what is being watched, even though the kids can’t hear him. He always makes sure his outfit is properly thematic for the lesson that day, as (once again even if they can’t interact with him) he wants to give these kids his very best! When not being actively watched by the kids, he’s still watching them. Obviously he still has… way too many unaddressed anxieties relating to Toriel, but he enjoys hearing her teach and is frequently taking notes in the same way the kids are! Occasionally, if Toriel isn’t reading or grading something important, she’ll turn on the cable and idly listen while getting work done. (He has complicated feelings about this but it’s generally a positive!)

When back in Castletown he is spending his time preparing boards, quizzes, and physical challenges relating to the stuff that happened in class that day, all of which he is incredibly enthusiastic about sharing with the Fun Gang. Is most of it below their grade level, yeah, but he’s really trying! He also goes out of his way to try and be helpful around Castletown, volunteering for building projects or clean up or mini games however he is needed (he very desperately wants to feel needed).

Hopefully all of this makes sense and I am happy to clarify any points that don’t!! My head is still pretty foggy so I’m sure I said something screwy that needs a bit more context XD

[snips-fics]

It would feel like rebirth, to see yourself so glowing

@summer-of-bad-batch Week 4 | Main Prompt: "Bioluminescence"

Title from "Glowing" by The Oh Hellos

Cross-posted on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66946216

Rated: G | no romantic relationships | Words : 723

“Did you know that humans are slightly bioluminescent?”

The question came out of the blue, but then again, many of Tech’s comments did. Omega liked that about him; she never knew when she would learn something. It was just the two of them, plus Echo, waiting in the Marauder’s cockpit in amicable silence while Hunter and Wrecker dealt with a concerningly curious spaceport employee outside.

Echo raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

“Actually, I am not. It’s too faint for our eyes to detect, but as a byproduct of cellular respiration, we emit biophotons that can be perceived as light. So, technically, even in the darkest place we could possibly go, we’re never entirely without light, whether we can see it or not. We carry it with us as long as we are alive.”

Echo snorted. “Are we supposed to take that as a metaphor?”

Tech frowned. “It’s not poetry. It’s science.”

“Could they be the same thing, sometimes?” Omega asked.

“Practically speaking, definitely not.” He adjusted his goggles and regarded her curious expression, then conceded, “Philosophically, however, I suppose one could argue that they are so.”

Omega wiggled her fingers, trying to imagine them shimmering gold.

◇◇◇◇◇◇

Omega shouldn’t have tried to run.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time; the ship had escape pods, and they were supposedly only one level down. She could use them, just like how she’d escaped that old Kaminoan facility. All she had to do was run when nobody was looking.

She hadn’t gotten far. Of course she hadn’t.

The doctor himself had dragged her to the brig, his gloved hand tight on her arm even as his steps were measured and unhurried.

“Escape is impossible here, and it will be even more so once we reach Tantiss,” he warned in a soft voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. He tipped his chin up, studying her like a specimen under glass. “I have a very special purpose for you, so you must behave.”

Omega bit his finger hard enough to leave a mark even through the glove.

He winced, but the expression turned calm and hard in an instant. “Very well. Let’s have a lesson.” He tossed her into the brig and shut the door.

She barely had time to get her bearings in the cramped cell before the light shut off, plunging her into total darkness.

If she hadn’t felt trapped before, she was now. She wasn’t used to this sort of inky dark; even at night on the Marauder, the cabin was dully illuminated by a myriad of buttons and tiny lights from the ship’s various computer systems. Even in space or on unpopulated planets, pinprick stars blinked back at her from the sky. Even in that cavern with Tech, there had been light underground.

This darkness was total, unnatural. It wrapped around her like tentacles. Like creatures crawling all over her, smothering her, dark and silent.

The gravity of it all stifled her breath. Tech was dead. Her family was gone. And she was trapped, trapped in a box in the depths of a ship hurtling to parts unknown through hyperspace. Her brothers would not find her.

There was no light, no light, no light.

Not like the Marauder, not like the night sky, not like the cavern.

This darkness would eat her alive.

The cavern.

Tech.

Did you know that humans are slightly bioluminescent? Even in the darkest place we could possibly go, we’re never entirely without light.

I’m glowing, she told herself. I can't see it, but I'm emitting biophotons. I'm making light. And then aloud, shouting to pierce the suffocating silence of her cell, “Hey! I’m glowing! It’s not all dark in here! I’m glowing!”

Her voice echoed in the tiny cell, and she wondered if the doctor could hear her screaming words that didn’t make any sense. She hoped he did. He wanted her to be hopeless, but he couldn’t take her light.

We carry it with us as long as we are alive.

Omega didn’t know where she was going or what would become of her. She was drowning in pitch black, all alone. But as long as she was breathing, the shadows could never consume her, not completely.

Even the faintest glimmer of light is the opposite of total darkness.

[sky-blue-memories]

If I Could Become a Comet - Harumaki Gohan MV - Studio Gohan

[cent-scratchnsniff]

HI CAN I BEG FOR MORE NETSOD CONTENT ON MY HANDS AND KNEES I LOVE THEM I LOVE YOUR ART AND I BEG OF YOU KILL YESOD WITH THE BEER MAN. "I think I'm dying" was too funny. he would think he's dying the nanosecond he realizes heartrate rises not just with work anxiety, but affectionate social anxiety. valentines is going to send him to the ER watch

i was going to make a smaller post abt it. a simple shitpost. but it ended up being longer. about 9 pages or the sort in total. i tried to have it out during the literal date for it but most likely it will be out in the next hopefully at most 30 hours ... .. answering this now so you dont think im ignoring it. the actual finished result be posted in a seperate one. as you can see. dialog/planning plus four pages are done art wise already though!!

small sippets from progress plus yesod from the warmup doodles as a peace offering .. . ..

[bumblingbabooshka]

Romulans, yes or no? 👉👈

Romulans...YES!

Urasa:

Urasa was abandoned by his father as part of some double-cross/life lesson about being weak. He met a Klingon boy named Adokthosh and saw that he was weak and cowardly compared to the others around him. Urasa ran away from the care of his Romulan bretheren and the two of them began working together to get to the top of the Klingon empire through lying, cheating, bribing, and stealing. I'm sure that'll all go well for them! I'm also sure there won't be any complicated romantic feelings. Bartovka:

She & Asil (Tuvok's daughter) have a longrunning evil-doer vs gallant hero thing going on. Thankfully Bartovka is usually easily foiled because she loves expositing about her devious plans and also is so full of herself that she makes it kinda easy to defeat her.

She figured out she was trans because of Asil. The two of them get in a lot of …. situations. Together.

She has two kids and a wife that she's trying to avoid at all costs because she's pretty sure they'll try to kill her if they find her. Or worse, she'll have to pay child support.

[ectonurites]

anyways. happy 10th anniversary to the night we called the cops on my dad and got him arrested, he got a friend of his to bail him out, and the immediate first action he took was walking from jail back to our house where we promptly called the cops and got him arrested a second time

[moe-broey]

Why did I start like three other projects when I was already working on a big project when I just got hit with the autism exhaustion beam (requires. At least One Full Day just dead in bed, and then some more Taking It Easy time after)

[windupaidoneus]

i do think its beautiful thst the gods in drakenier are inherently malevolent entities who created everything with the purpose of destroying them. its beautiful because time & time again the people try to make the best with what they have no matter what. & even if they make the wrong decisions. even if it ends badly. they lived. they were happy. & it mattered

[callixton]

i love comma splices ^_^

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

bad wolf soda <3

[kindahoping4forever]

Do they do the confetti and “get sauced” segment at outdoor shows?

Yes I believe that is a permanent element of the shows at this point 💙

[fideidefenswhore]

soulmate-ism ❤️

[soltaven]

solias canon & modern au sketch dump

[oikarma]

monaco yacht club

pairing: kimi räikkönen x reader

summary: the iceman didn't think love was in the cards this summer, but he's proven wrong when it walks right onto his yacht, the iceman.

a/n: monaco 2006 you will always be famous xx

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You had precisely three things on your summer checklist (well, it was only May, but these things were a technicality):

Get a tan.

Find your sea legs.

Avoid boring men in polo shirts.

So when you sashayed down the Monaco marina in your oversized sunglasses and silk scarf blowing dramatically in the sea breeze, you were convinced life was going exactly to plan. Until it wasn't. Because, apparently, you got on the wrong yacht.

"I don't remember hiring a crew," a voice said, low and unimpressed, behind you.

You turned around from where you were sprawled dramatically across the cushioned sunbed, sipping sparkling water and admiring your own pedicure.

And there he was: tall, sun-drenched, and scowling at you like you'd committed a federal crime instead of simply boarding what you thought was your family's boat.

"You're not wearing shoes," you pointed out, lifting your sunglasses just enough to glare at him properly.

"You're not supposed to be here," he replied coolly.

"I'm always supposed to be wherever I am," you said, standing now, a little flustered, a little thrilled. Who was this little boy? Well, not boy. He was certainly a man in his own right. But he shouldn't be talking back to you! "This is my yacht."

He crossed his arms, a small smirk playing on his lips. "That so?"

You blinked, looked around at the deck, at the gleaming chrome railing, at the Finnish flag. Oh. It might've slipped your mind.

"…this isn't the Phoenix, is it?"

"No. It's the Iceman," he said. "And you're on it."

You stared at him, then down at the deck, then back at him. "Okay. So, maybe I got a little lost."

"You 'got lost' onto a private yacht?"

"Maybe I got excited about getting back onto a white boat. It's hot. I was thirsty. Don't people trespass all the time in Monaco?"

"No."

You smiled at him, batting your lashes just a little. "Are you always this fun at parties? Who's paying for the yacht, pretty boy? Is it your daddy?"

"Yes," he said. And to your second question, "me. I race cars."

You blinked and looked him up and down, mostly with the purpose of figuring out who this racecar driver was, but also because he was a little attractive. Not Schumacher. Okay, that was it. What other blonde F1 driver did you know? Finnish...you scoured your mind and found two!

"Wait. You're either Mika or Kimi."

“Mika's retired."

"So you're Kimi."

"You say that like you expected me to be taller."

"Well, you probably seem taller in the tabloids. They don't want broody strangers."

"I'm not brooding," Kimi said flatly. "I just don't like strangers on my boat."

"Well then," you said, brushing imaginary lint off your dress and walking--gracefully, thank you very much--past him, "maybe you should have locked the door, Iceman."

You paused at the top of the plank, looking back at him. "Thanks for the drink. Even if it was technically theft."

He didn't say anything until you were almost gone, and he called out, "Next time you want a tan, ask first."

You turned around, eyes wide. "Next time?"

He--Kimi--shrugged, already walking inside. "You know where to find me now."

Your heart did an extremely uncool little flip.

And you added:

4. Come back to the Iceman.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You did not come back on purpose.

Okay, maybe you did. But only a little. It was your friend's idea. Sort of. She said you should "accidentally" walk by his boat again just to "see if he's real" and not a "fever dream with cheekbones."

Also, you wore the pretty white cover-up. Not for him. It was for the, uh, aesthetic.

You had every intention of walking right past the Iceman this time. A quick stroll down the dock, head held high, pretending like you weren't thinking about the man who didn't smile but made your heart do aerial stunts.

And yet.

"There's no way this is accidental," came the now-familiar voice from the deck.

You froze mid-step, toe hovering over the dock, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of your nose. "Excuse me?"

Kimi was shirtless this time. Unfairly so. He had one hand on the railing, the other holding a half-eaten nectarine like this was a Botticelli painting, and not your life.

"You're back," he said, as if that was the entire sentence. Clearly, he was a man of few words.

You huffed. "Don't flatter yourself. Maybe I'm scouting yachts. Maybe I have options."

He raised an eyebrow. "Girls with options don't wear lip gloss and look lost."

"I'm not lost," you insisted.

"You always say that when you’re lost."

You crossed your arms. "Okay, not always. It's the second time. And what are you doing? Standing there like a Bond villain, eating fruit and judging tourists?"

"I like fruit," Kimi said. "And I don't like tourists."

You stared at him.

He stared back.

And then--then--the corner of his mouth tilted. Just the tiniest bit. A smirk, barely there, like he wasn't sure if he was going to find you funny yet.

"I have champagne," he said casually.

You blinked. "Are you bribing me to stay?"

"Maybe."

"Is it cold?"

"Of course."

"And are there snacks?"

"There can be."

You paused for dramatic effect, then turned back toward the yacht, walking up like it was the Queen's invitation. "Fine. But only because my heels hurt and you're marginally less rude than the sun."

"You're not wearing heels."

"Don't ruin the moment, Kimi."

He handed you a glass of champagne and your fingers brushed, just barely.

You sat, legs stretched out, toes pointing toward the sea. He leaned against the rail again, watching you. He wasn't staring, just looking?

"So," you said eventually, swirling the glass, "do you offer all your trespassers drinks? Or am I special?"

He looked at you so intently you almost forgot how to breathe. "You're the first one who came back."

Your heart? Gone. Floating somewhere between the Mediterranean and Monaco's skyline.

"Oh," you said quietly, smiling into your glass. "Well. Good thing I like fruit."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The plan was simple: one drink, maybe a quick dip, then you'd float off back to reality before things got complicated. But the weather didn't care about your plans. And neither, apparently, did Kimi.

You were mid-laugh, ankles swinging off the side of the yacht, when thunder rumbled low in the distance. You glanced up from your glass.

"Was that--"

"Storm's coming," Kimi said from behind you, hands in his pockets, hair ruffled from the sea breeze. God, you wanted to run your hands through it too. Never thought you'd be envying nature.

You raised an eyebrow. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

"I thought you liked surprises."

"I like presents, Kimi. Not atmospheric threats."

But the sky was already turning dramatic--clouds rolling in with a moody kind of poetry that would’ve been beautiful if it didn't mean your tiny white dress was about to become a very damp, very clingy problem.

"We should get back to shore," you said, slipping off your sunglasses.

He glanced toward the dock, then back to you. "Too late."

Sure enough, the rain started--slow at first, then all at once. Warm, chaotic, soaking you in seconds. You shrieked, holding your arms out like you could stop it with sheer annoyance.

"Great," you muttered. "I'm going to look like a drowned heiress."

Kimi just watched you, completely unfazed, rain dripping off his brow like he was made of stone. A slightly amused, highly attractive stone.

"You could've warned me sooner," you said, pushing wet hair off your face.

"You were busy talking about horoscopes and olives."

"I was being charming."

He tilted his head. "You were being loud."

You squinted at him. "Do you even like me, or are you just too polite to throw me off the boat?"

He didn't answer right away. He only stepped forward until you were almost toe-to-toe, rain pattering around you like applause.

"I don't usually like people," Kimi said. "But you're strange."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "Romantic."

He smirked. "It's not a no."

Before you could respond--because you absolutely had a witty comeback brewing--thunder cracked again. This time, closer.

He jerked his head toward the cabin. "Inside. Come on."

And that's how you ended up dripping and barefoot in the cozy cabin of a multimillion-dollar yacht that wasn't yours, wearing his hoodie (gray, soft, slightly too big) and sipping something warm he wordlessly handed you.

You glanced at the rain still lashing the windows. "Sooo, you're telling me I'm stranded?"

He nodded. "Well. If you really wanted to, no. But if it doesn't matter that much, yes, you are stranded for the night."

You tried to play it cool, because fuck if you wanted it. "Is this where you tell me there's only one bed?"

Silence.

You blinked. "Wait. Is there actually--"

"There’s a couch," he said, poker-faced. "But I'm not offering it."

You nearly choked on your drink. "Are you flirting with me, Kimi Räikkönen?"

"Maybe."

You stared, then smiled, then whispered, "Took you long enough."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The storm had no intention of stopping.

You stood in the little cabin barefoot, hair wet, legs cold, staring out the porthole like you could will the rain to let up. It didn't. It just pressed harder against the glass, wind whistling like some moody movie score.

"Bed's made," Kimi said behind you.

You turned. He was leaning in the doorway, towel-drying his hair with one hand, wearing a plain black shirt and grey sweatpants like he hadn't just walked out of a lifestyle magazine shoot.

"Thanks," you said, voice small. "I can take the couch."

He gave you a look. Just one of those slow, unreadable ones. "There's no point pretending. It's raining sideways. Just take the bed."

"And where are you sleeping?" you asked, not quite teasing.

His mouth twitched. "Also the bed."

"Fine. But no funny business."

He raised an eyebrow, totally unimpressed. "You snore."

"I do not!"

"You don't know what you do in your sleep."

You huffed, climbing into bed with dramatic flair, turning your back to him. "You're incredibly rude for someone offering me shelter."

"You could leave, you know. I'm sure you could find someone willing, if you family owns a yacht. You're also incredibly dramatic for someone stealing my hoodie."

You rolled over just to stick your tongue out at him and caught him smiling.

When the lights flickered again, you both froze.

And then--almost instinctively--he slid into the other side of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight. He didn't touch you. Not even close.

You stared up at the ceiling. "This is weird, right?"

“No.”

You turned your head toward him. He was lying flat, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the ceiling too. He was very pretty, you admit, with his long lashes fluttering lazily. You asked, "you don't think this is a little bit emotionally loaded for two people who met via trespassing?"

"You weren't trespassing," Kimi said calmly.

You blinked. "I wasn't?"

"You just got confused."

Now, he had you smiling in the dark.

"I like your boat."

"I know."

"And I like that you let me stay."

His voice was barely there. "I like that you came back."

There was a silence after that.

Eventually, your eyes got heavy. You turned on your side, facing away from him, but not all the way to the edge.

Then you felt it--the brush of his fingers, careful and slow, against your hand.

You didn't say anything. You just let your hand fall back into his and he held it. He didn't grasp tightly, like it was a declaration. There was just enough pressure. Just enough.

You fell asleep like that, rain at the windows. Your body was warm and quiet and his fingers were loosely twined in yours.

In the morning, when sunlight cracked through the clouds and your head was tucked under his chin, you didn't pretend to be surprised.

You just smiled into his shirt and whispered, "told you I don't snore."

And he murmured, half-asleep: "I know. I wanted you closer."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You were mid-bite when the door slammed. Slammed-slammed. Like 'Ferrari just lost a front-row seat to Monaco glory' slammed. Of course, because that was basically what had just happened. Except, of course, you had figured out now that Kimi drew for McLaren.

You paused, olive halfway to your mouth.

You heard boots. Heavy steps. Muted Finnish cursing. Well, it might've been some other language but that was your boy out there and he certainly wasn't speaking English.

"Kimi?" you called from the kitchen, mouth still full. You liked his other yacht more, Iceman, but this one was nice, too. It was called 'One More Toy' and Kimi'd asked you to come here with all his friends. The Iceman, he said, was a lot more personal. You supposed that made you two close. You wouldn't ask him that now, though, because he looked angry. "Is that you or an extremely pissed-off ghost?"

No answer.

Just more cursing and the unmistakable sound of a helmet being launched onto the couch. It didn't hit you, thankfully.

You popped the olive in your mouth. "I'm guessing the race didn't go great?"

He appeared in the doorway like an angry cat dragged backwards through gravel. His fireproof suit was half off and his hair a mess. It was kind of hot, actually. Even with his face doing that thing where he looks like he might kill someone but he's too tired to commit. It was especially hot.

"Engine failure," he growled.

You nodded solemnly, like a priest. "Tragic. Want an olive?"

Kimi just stared at you. Like he couldn’t decide whether to yell or marry you.

"Why are you in my hoodie again?"

"It's my coping mechanism," you said, offering him the jar. "Also, it smells like you, and I like it."

He groaned, stalking past you to the bar, where he poured himself three fingers of something probably older than your childhood dog.

You followed, jar in hand. "Do you want to scream into a pillow? Punch a baguette? I have options."

He downed the drink in one go, eyes closed, breathing like the car personally insulted his grandmother.

"I walked off the track mid-race," Kimi muttered.

"I know. It was very dramatic. Ten out of ten for mysterious recluse energy. Did you hear your friends celebrating as you came on? Oh, wait, sorry, you were brooding again."

"I'm not mysterious. I wasn't brooding."

"You're an international man of monosyllables who just disappeared during a Grand Prix and materialized on a yacht. That's the definition mysterious behavior."

You held up your hands when seeing his look. "I support you."

Kimi finally--finally--cracked the tiniest smile. You loved it when he smiled. Then, he sank onto the couch like his bones had given up.

You sat beside him, jar between you, quietly nudging it toward him.

He took one olive and chewed slowly.

"...fuck. These are good."

"'Course they are, my sister-in-law comes from a family that makes olive oil."

He glanced sideways. "Wow. Didn't know that was a thing."

"You're messing with me. Whatever. If you didn't know, you do now. You know what else is a thing? You coming here every time your life explodes."

Kimi didn't argue. Instead, after a long pause, he admit, "I didn't want to be around anyone else."

"Oh."

"I don't talk much."

"Really?"

"Hey."

"Sorry, go on." You gestured with your jar.

He swallowed. "You make it quiet in my head. In a good way."

The olive jar hit the floor. Metaphorically. Though you did actually fumble it a bit in surprise.

"I--"

"I'm not good at this," Kimi added, clearly distressed by his own emotional vulnerability. "The people stuff."

"Well, you're doing amazing, sweetie," you said, placing a very gentle hand on his very tense knee. "You stormed in here like a Nordic pirate and admitted you like me. That's practically a marriage proposal."

He narrowed his eyes. "I did not say that."

"You meant it."

He opened his mouth to argue, then gave up. He took another olive and had you grinning.

Kimi didn't smile, exactly, but he did press a kiss to your temple five minutes later, like he couldn't not.

You added another thing to your mental summer checklist, the last one. It was actually summer, soon. Almost June.

5. Spend lots of time with one (1) brooding, shirtless, Finnish blonde that's bad with emotions, or: Iceman.

But how were you going to do that? He had his job and you...actually, travel certainly wasn't a problem for you.

Kimi looked at you funny, as if he'd read your mind. "What are you thinking about?"

"Can I come to work with you?"

He coughed. "Work? Like my job?"

"Formula One."

"We'll have to leave the yacht," he said, almost ruefully. "You can handle that?"

"Fuck the Iceman," you responded, though at heart you loved the boat that'd brought you to him, him to you. "I have my own Iceman right here."

"You're sappy," he noted. And this time he smiled.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: i've never written for a retired driver so this was fun! i adore kimi lol and hope you liked the banter

[blossomarlia]

hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?

hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.

summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you

remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)

Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you. 

You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than  you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.

You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?

Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.

There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.

“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.

“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.

His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”

You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”

You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.

“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.

“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity. 

You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic. 

You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.

“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”

“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”

What?

James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.

Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”

“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”

You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”

There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look. 

“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.

“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again. 

“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.

Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.

“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”

You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”

“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”

“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”

“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.

 You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this. 

“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you. 

“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”

“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”

Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired?”

“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs. 

“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”

Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”

“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”

You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.

“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.

“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”

“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”

You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?” 

“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”

“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?” 

You shrug. 

“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”

You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?

Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”

“I don’t want to make you babysit.”

Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”

The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.

“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”

You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”

“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is. 

The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves. 

“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.

It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.

“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”

“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”

You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”

He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-

“You alright?” 

“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.

“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”

You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”

“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”

Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”

“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.