#none of this is exaggeration either | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunderwight · 1 year ago

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Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #peerless cucumber #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #bingqiu #moshang #and shades of #cumplane #binghe was ROBBED lol not really though #he likes shizun no matter what form he's in #mobei's also into whatever airplane has going on #cumplane have the kind of relationship where one turning out hot is just more ways for the other to roast him

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norristrii · 3 months ago

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ALL THE BOYS I LOVED BEFORE.

Your brother Carlos, tired of watching you endure heartbreak after heartbreak, couldn’t bear to see his little sister unhappy anymore. In his determination to cheer you up, he began to wonder if his best friend might just be the perfect match for you.

pairing. Lando Norris x Sainz! fem! reader.

warnings. none.

YOUR LOVE LIFE FELT LIKE A CRUEL JOKE, an endless parade of failed attempts that left you questioning your own worth. It wasn’t just heartbreak—it was the creeping fear that maybe you were the problem, that perhaps you were unlovable. The thought took root deep in your mind, leaving you wondering what you were doing wrong. Was it something about you that scared people away? Or was love simply not meant for you?

But through it all, Carlos never let you wallow in self-doubt for long. As your older brother, he refused to let you believe there was anything wrong with you. “It’s not you,” he’d say, his words firm, almost stubborn. “It’s them. Just a bunch of idiots who don’t deserve you.” His unwavering support was both comforting and amusing, and even though his bluntness often made you laugh, deep down, his words gave you strength.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, even as you smiled at Carlos’s efforts to cheer you up. Somewhere out there, was someone made for you? Someone who could love you the way Carlos believed you deserved to be loved? That little spark of hope kept you moving forward, searching for a connection that didn’t feel like a mistake waiting to happen. One day, you told yourself. One day, maybe you’d find them. Until then, at least you had your brother to remind you that the idiots weren’t worth your tears.

And to your surprise, the answer to Carlos’ scheming might have been closer than you ever imagined. Or, at least, that’s what Carlos believed.

Lando. Carlos’s long-time best friend, the guy who was practically a permanent fixture in your life. Sure, he was hot—those sharp features and that effortless charm weren’t exactly easy to ignore. And yeah, he was funny, with that playful banter and endless sarcasm that could make anyone laugh. But to you, he was nothing more than your brother’s best friend. That was the unspoken rule, the line that you’d never even thought about crossing.

But Carlos? Oh, Carlos had a different perspective. In his mind, it all made perfect sense. Lando wasn’t just his best friend; he was loyal, protective, and maybe even a little too cocky for his own good. And you? You needed someone who could keep up with you, someone who could challenge you but also be there for you without fail. To him, it was like a match written in the stars.

Maybe Carlos was onto something, or maybe he was just meddling. Either way, his genius idea had been planted, and once Carlos made up his mind about something, there was no stopping him. Perhaps the line you thought existed between you and Lando wasn’t as solid as you’d imagined. And maybe, just maybe, Carlos’s crazy little plan wasn’t so crazy after all.

It was typical of Carlos—always managing to drag you into something you swore you’d hate. And here you were, standing in the middle of a pristine golf course, the sun beaming down as a gentle breeze ruffled your hair. The idea of spending an afternoon playing golf with Carlos and Lando had seemed laughable at first. Golf? Really? You’d never understood the appeal of chasing after tiny white balls with oversized sticks. But, somehow, Carlos had convinced you it would be fun. Spoiler: it wasn’t.

Carlos, of course, was thriving, clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling with every swing. His laughter carried across the course, his playful taunts adding to your growing frustration. Lando, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as gleeful. Instead, he seemed content to watch from the sidelines, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he offered the occasional unhelpful tip.

“Try holding it like this,” he suggested at one point, demonstrating with exaggerated precision. You followed his advice, only for the ball to roll a pathetic two feet ahead. Carlos burst into laughter, practically doubling over, while Lando tried—and failed—to keep a straight face.

You groaned, gripping the golf club tighter as you prepared for another attempt. “This is torture,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at your brother, who was still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

Carlos shrugged, his grin unapologetic. “It’s called bonding,” he replied casually, as if that made the humiliation worthwhile.

Lando stepped closer, his smirk softening into something resembling sympathy. “For what it’s worth, you’re better than I thought you’d be,” he said, clearly lying but trying to sound convincing. The teasing glance he shot Carlos didn’t escape you, though —it was clear he was enjoying this just as much as your brother.

You rolled your eyes, your frustration mingling with reluctant amusement. This wasn’t how you’d imagined your vacation, but somehow, it didn’t feel entirely terrible. As much as you hated golf, the laughter and teasing brought a strange sense of comfort—a reminder that, despite everything, you were surrounded by people who cared about you, even if their definition of bonding involved public embarrassment on a golf course.

Carlos let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Oh my god, Y/n, are you even my sister?” he said, clearly enjoying every second of your frustration. His teasing grin widened as he stepped closer, pretending to assess your stance again. “You suck,” he added, the bluntness of his words making you groan loudly.

You narrowed your eyes at him, fed up with his constant jabs. “Well, if you’re so good, show me!” you shot back, your voice sharp as you grabbed the golf club with both hands and thrust it toward him. The force of your gesture caught him off guard, and he raised his hands in defense, laughing as he took the club from you.

“Alright, alright,” he said, still chuckling as he stepped up to take his position. “Let me show you how it’s done,” his smug tone only fueled your irritation, but part of you was curious to see if he’d actually live up to all the talk.

Lando leaned casually against his own club nearby, watching the exchange with a smirk. “Go on, Carlos, impress us,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. Between Carlos’s endless teasing and Lando’s sly comments, the whole situation was ridiculous.

Carlos stood there, his posture full of exaggerated confidence as he stretched out dramatically. “You need to be focused,” he announced, his tone dripping with self-importance as if he were some kind of golf guru. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating some kind of mishap, but you let him have his moment.

With a practiced stance, he lined up his shot, taking his sweet time as if the world was waiting for his golfing masterpiece. The swing was smooth, the ball connecting with the club perfectly—and for a brief second, you thought maybe, he’d nailed it. The ball soared gracefully through the air, catching the light like a beacon of hope.

And then… straight into the woods.

Your laughter exploded before you could stop it, a sharp and genuine reaction to the sheer absurdity of what had just happened. “Wow, Carlos,” you said, your tone dripping with amusement as you struggled to catch your breath. “That was… that was impressive. Are you trying to start a career in forestry?”

Carlos groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he squinted toward the trees. “It’s the wind,” he muttered in defense, but the slight blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. Meanwhile, Lando nearly doubled over laughing, leaning on his golf club for support.

“You know what?” you said, flashing a sly smile as an idea struck you. This was the perfect opportunity to escape the humiliation of the golf course—at least for a little while. “I think I’m gonna get it,” you added with feigned determination, already planning your retreat. Sure, you probably had at least ten more golf balls, but that wasn’t the point. You needed an out, and this was your ticket.

Carlos didn’t even look up from the app he was fiddling with, muttering something distractedly about “good luck” as he waved you off. But Lando, standing just a few feet away, wasn’t about to let you slip away unnoticed. His smirk widened as he leaned slightly toward you, his golf club resting lightly against his shoulder. “Maybe I should go with you,” he said smoothly, his tone playful yet deliberate. “What if you get lost?”

"Yeah, right," you replied with a playful smirk, sarcasm dripping from your tone. "I need my prince to save me." The joke was meant to be lighthearted, just another quip to match the teasing vibe of the day. But even as the words left your lips, you found yourself quietly savoring this moment. Somehow, it made the whole golf catastrophe feel a little more bearable. At least Carlos was getting a kick out of it, his exasperated laughter echoing faintly in the background.

Lando, however, wasn’t about to let your words go unanswered. His grin widened, confidence oozing from his every movement as he shifted closer, his presence magnetic and hard to ignore. “Exactly,” he shot back, his voice smooth and deliberate, carrying just the right amount of playful arrogance. “Every beautiful princess deserves her handsome prince.”

The words hung in the air for a beat too long, sinking into your mind before you could brush them off. Beautiful princess? Handsome prince? Did he really just say that? And the way his smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—so self-assured, so annoyingly charming—made your heart skip, even if you refused to admit it.

Your brain worked quickly to dismiss the thought. No. No, no, no. This was Lando, your brother’s best friend—the guy who had practically been a second annoying sibling at times. And yet... damn it. The worst part wasn’t the comment. It wasn’t even his confident delivery. No, the worst part was that he wasn’t wrong. He really was handsome, in that infuriating, effortless way that made it hard to look away.

Fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks, you forced yourself to roll your eyes, putting on your best mask of indifference. “Keep dreaming, Prince Charming,” you retorted, your voice firm but laced with humor, determined not to let him see the way his words affected you.

Lando’s smirk only widened, his amusement evident as he leaned casually on his golf club. He didn’t need to say anything else—he’d already gotten the reaction he wanted. And as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t entirely suppress the small, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Annoying as he was, Lando always knew exactly how to push your buttons. The problem was, you were starting to wonder if you didn’t mind quite as much as you used to.

You and Lando moved quietly toward the tree line, the hum of the golf cart fading behind you where Carlos sat engrossed in whatever had captured his attention on his phone. The air between you and Lando was heavy with unspoken words, the kind of silence that stretched on just a bit too long. You wanted to say something, to break the quiet and fill the space with anything other than the sound of your own footsteps. But the words just wouldn’t come.

Thankfully, Lando beat you to it. “How are you enjoying vacation?” he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet as the two of you stepped beneath the canopy of trees.

His tone was casual, but there was a curious edge to it, as though he genuinely cared about your answer. You glanced at him, his expression soft and relaxed, the playful smirk from earlier now replaced with something a little more sincere. The sunlight filtering through the branches danced across his features, and for a moment, you forgot the irritation golf had caused earlier.

“I mean, other than humiliating myself on a golf course?” you replied with a faint smile, the lightness in your tone matching his. “It’s been... not bad.” You hesitated, then added, “Surprisingly decent, actually.” The admission surprised even you, but it wasn’t a lie. Lando’s teasing had made the day a lot more tolerable than you’d expected.

He chuckled softly at your response, his eyes flicking over to meet yours. “See? It’s not all bad,” he said, a hint of that trademark charm slipping back into his voice. “Maybe Carlos wasn’t entirely wrong dragging us out here after all.”

You shrugged, brushing a stray branch out of your way. “Maybe,” you admitted quietly, though your mind lingered on how much of your enjoyment had less to do with Carlos and more to do with the person standing beside you.

The forest seemed quieter now, the sounds of your footsteps mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. The playful banter from earlier had given way to a more comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. You focused on the path ahead, brushing aside stray branches, until Lando’s voice broke the quiet.

“I know this might sound a bit weird,” he started, his tone unusually tentative. You glanced over at him, surprised to see his expression softer, almost shy. He looked ahead as he spoke, his grip tightening slightly on the golf club he still carried. “But... are you, uh, talking to someone?”

His question caught you off guard. Lando wasn’t exactly the type to beat around the bush, so this hesitation was... unexpected. And endearing. You blinked, processing his words as your mind raced. Was he actually asking? Did he care if you had someone? The thought stirred something in you, though you quickly pushed it aside, opting for humor instead of overthinking.

“Maximally with you now,” you replied lightly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your tone carried a hint of amusement, but there was no denying the truth behind your words. Your love life was, well, nonexistent. It was a fact you’d come to accept—laughing at it was easier than lingering on the ache it sometimes brought.

Lando turned his gaze towards you, his lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, a flicker of emotion that almost made your heart skip. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was something more.

The question escaped your lips before you had a chance to second-guess it. “And you?” you asked, your tone steady but laced with curiosity. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to make the moment feel heavier than it already did. Sure, it was casual—just a question. But deep down, you couldn’t deny that you genuinely wanted to know.

Lando hesitated for a fraction of a second, his grip tightening slightly on his golf club. His smirk faltered briefly, replaced by an expression that was harder to read. Was that shyness? Vulnerability? You couldn’t tell, and it only made you more intrigued.

“Me?” he echoed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced sideways at you. He cleared his throat lightly, and for once, his usual confidence seemed tinged with uncertainty. “No, not really,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his echo of your earlier words, the sound light and genuine. There was something comforting in his answer, something that made the corners of your mouth lift without effort. The way he looked at you now—calm, unguarded—felt different. More genuine. And it left you wondering, for the first time, if there was more to him than the teasing grin and the clever remarks.

For reasons you couldn’t entirely explain, this felt easier—lighter—than anything you’d ever experienced before. All the boys you’d loved before had left a trail of complicated emotions, fractured hopes, and moments you’d rather forget. Each had been so differently flawed, so carelessly capable of turning something that once felt beautiful into something that left scars. Those experiences had planted seeds of doubt in your mind, making you question whether love could ever truly feel natural. But walking alongside Lando now, sharing easy laughter and playful banter among the quiet trees, it didn’t feel forced or complicated. It felt... right. Like it was meant to unfold this way, no pretense or pressure, just the simplicity of two people enjoying the moment.

“Maybe we should—” Lando began, his voice soft and uncharacteristically hesitant. It wasn’t the teasing tone you’d grown used to; this felt different, more careful, as if he was trying to choose the perfect words. You glanced toward him, curious, but before he could finish, something caught your eye.

“I have it!” you shouted suddenly, your attention snagged by the small, bright ball nestled among the leaves. You hurried forward, triumphant, as though finding it somehow made up for your earlier lackluster golfing attempts. Your excitement carried you into the moment, oblivious to the way Lando faltered mid-sentence.

He blinked, startled, before letting out a soft chuckle at your interruption. There was something warm in his laughter, a fondness you hadn’t quite noticed before. Turning back to face him, you realized what had just happened. “Uh, sorry,” you said quickly, embarrassment tinging your voice as you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “What did you say?”

Lando hesitated for a beat, as though weighing whether or not to repeat himself. Then, his gaze met yours, steady and unflinching. “I said maybe we should go out sometime,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, as if he were letting the words settle between you.

The air shifted subtly in that moment. His question hung there, simple but impossible to ignore. For a second, you could only look at him, the sincerity in his expression catching you off guard. This wasn’t banter or teasing—it was honest, unfiltered. And in the quiet pause that followed, you realized just how much weight those few words carried.

“Yeah, we definitely should,” you said, your lips curving into an easy smile. The words came out naturally, without hesitation, as though they’d been waiting there, just beneath the surface, ready to be spoken. The warmth in your voice matched the way you felt—surprised, maybe even a little nervous, but undeniably intrigued.

Lando’s expression softened at your response, his usual cocky grin replaced by something gentler, something more sincere. He seemed almost surprised himself, as if he hadn’t quite expected you to agree so easily. For a moment, the two of you stood there in the woods, the trees around you swaying gently in the breeze, creating a little cocoon of quiet away from the rest of the world.

“Well,” he said after a beat, his voice light but carrying an unmistakable trace of relief. “I’m looking forward, then.” His smirk reappeared, though it was softer now, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he added, “Just promise me one thing—you won’t make me take you golfing.”

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dokyumms · 3 months ago

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operation: hug me

pairing: woozi x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

cw: none? reader staying on that only-sleeping-with-a-stuffed-animal agenda, way too much backstory bc i yap

a/n: hey kings, writing this instead of a request as a late bday gift to my moot @lavoilee!! not sure who ur svt bias is so i chose randomly lolol, hope you enjoy!! getting back to doing requests in shorter amounts of time, i just had a hard time thinking of smth good for this haha

jihoon is a weird guy.

okay, let's rephrase that: he's been acting like a weird guy. you can't tell if he's mad at you or in love with you, and you're determined to find out what's up.

it all started one afternoon at a café with your friend. you were both chatting around, just catching up. as both of you sipped on your coffees, the topic had gone from work, to gossip, to... medical check ups?

"how've you been sleeping? 'cause i sure have not been sleeping well," she'd asked randomly, widening her eyes in exasperation and taking another sip of her drink.

"hasn't been that great for me either," you sighed truthfully, recalling the sleepless nights you'd been having since jihoon had been on tour and started promotions for his comeback right after. you were truly proud of him, but it sure did suck not having him to hold onto when he would stay at the studio for the night.

your friend giggled, "why? because your 'jihoonie' hasn't been home?" she teased, mocking the name you accidentally called him while she was over at your place a couple months ago. "oh my god, stop it." you slapped her on the shoulder.

"you know i'm right, though." she teased again, wavering when you glared at her. "okay, okay, but i'm being serious. i remember when my boyfriend went on a business trip i was up all night," she exaggerated, rolling her eyes when you raised an eyebrow at her "up all night as in tossing and turning till my alarm went off. anyways, i ended up buying a stuffed animal to replace him, and it worked! maybe i should start using that again..."

"hm, maybe that'll help," you pondered, writing a reminder to search for one before another conversation began to sprout out of your friend.

that evening, you spent yet another restless night looking through the internet, finally settling on a moderately sized stuffed animal of a black cat after a couple hours of searching. after typing down your (jihoon's) credit card number, your phone vibrated with a call from your boyfriend.

you set your laptop aside and accepted the call, "hoon?"

"hey, babe. um, na pd just kidnapped us again- i'm going to be in france for a week. i'm really sorry, i promise you i didn't know about it till today..."

it took everything in your power not to let out a sigh, but he seemed to tell.

"i understand if you're mad or suspicious, hell, i'd be too. let me facetime you so i can show you that i'm really being kidnapped."

you hummed in response, accepting the facetime call that popped up on your phone not a second later. it was laggy for sure, but you could tell he was at an airport and that hoshi and wonwoo were seated next to him. they both waved happily.

"sorry he couldn't be home y/n! don't get too mad at him- hey!" hoshi called, yelping when wonwoo slapped him.

"ignore him, you should be as mad as you please." wonwoo smiled before hoshi pounced on him. jihoon turned the camera back to him.

"yeah, that's how it's been going. i'll call you as often as i can, okay? i'll make it up to you somehow."

ugh, you couldn't be mad at that, so holding back a sigh, you put on the most undisappointed smile you could muster. "it's okay jihoon, have fun okay? send me lots of photos."

he smiled back, "okay, i love you. and it's late, go to sleep soon, please." he finally said, waiting for you to say it back before he waved a goodbye and hung up.

you flopped back on the couch in disappointment- another week of this? could you even take more of it? "at least i could put that thing to use," you thought as sleep finally began to take over.

two days later, you opened a brown box to reveal a vacuum sealed black blob. you wondered if you got scammed after cutting the plastic off to reveal a slightly less smushed black blob with cat ears. nonetheless, it was too late to return it now, so you just went on with your day, abandoning it in your room.

when you came back that evening, however, you were greeted by the cat you were promised in all of its stuffed glory. now that it was inflated, you could see that the money paid had been worth it. happy with your purchase, you quickly took a shower and got ready for bed.

by 11pm, you were in bed, wrapping up a facetime call with jihoon as the stuffed animal laid besides you. you were both saying your goodbyes when he noticed it next to you.

"did you get a cat?"

you let out a confused noise before looking around you to find the cat he was referring to.

"this? no, it's just a stuffed animal," you explained, holding up the cat plush and waving it in the camera.

"ah, i see. why'd you get it?"

"oh, you know... just to help..." you answered sheepishly in embarrassment. he raised an eyebrow at your answer then simply nodded.

"hm, well.. enjoy it while it lasts. goodnight to you, love you." he said quickly, hanging up right after, leaving you confused with a hand still on the cat.

"enjoy it while it lasts? how weird." you mumbled, sending a quick message in confusion before laying down. it was weird; with the stuffed animal underneath your arms, the bed all of the sudden seemed more comfortable, and a sudden feeling of coziness filled you. you felt less alone.

and before you were able to silence your phone, turn on white noise, everything you normally did to help you sleep, you were passed out.

so, with the success of that night, you began to sleep with it everyday. it really did seem to work, and you made a mental note to thank your friend when you saw her again.

before you knew it, it was the night before jihoon was said to return to korea. you sent him a message, telling him you were going to sleep and laid down with your newfound cuddle buddy. you wrapped your arms around the cat, and fell sound asleep within minutes.

this is where the weirdness began.

you woke up, stirring to the sound of your door opening to find jihoon in the room, suitcase in one hand and wearing a weird expression. it was weirdly neutral, yet still made you uneasy. he looked... mad?

"hoon? you said you weren't coming back till tomorrow.." you murmured. "why do you look like that?"

"look like what?"

"you look mad" you said truthfully, rubbing your eye to get a better look at him.

"i'm not mad? i think you're still sleepy." he said, walking over and joining you on the bed. he tried to get closer to you but was blocked by something. "what's this?"

"i told you, i got a stuffed animal." you answered sleepily holding it up in front of him. "hm, well you don't need it." he said, grabbing it and tossing it across the room.

"hey, be nice to juni."

"you named it??"

"yeah, so what. meanie." you told him, turning away from him. you weren't actually mad, about 5 seconds away from turning back around to hug him, but he sighed before you could do anything. he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you and somehow getting (more like manhandling) you to turn around.

"babe, i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i don't know why i threw the cat- i mean juni." he apologized sincerely before nuzzling into your neck, throwing you completely off guard.

you had not meant for him to take your 'sulking' seriously, and also, you two had never cuddled like this, with him being the little spoon. it wasn't that you minded, but jihoon was never big on physical affection in the first place, so it was odd, but nonetheless, you accepted it.

"hoonie, it's fine. i don't care about it that much," you giggled, stroking his hair. "i'm just glad you're home, you came earlier than i thought." you commented. he nodded in response. "just wanted to surprise you." is all he said, snuggling into you further before knocking out.

the only problem was that after about a week of sleeping with the cat, it sort of became a habit, so the same thing happened for the next 3 days. you would fall asleep with the cat, wake up to jihoon looking mad at you, and then he would start cuddling with you as if he was a whole different person.

which leads you to now.

instead of consulting with him like a normal person, you decide to go to your friend, the same one who suggested getting the stuffed animal in the first place.

"isn't it obvious?" she says after hearing your story. you're both at the same café, sipping the same drinks and everything. you look at her in confusion. "if it was obvious, i don't think i'd be asking? come on, just tell me." you plead, desperate to get your boyfriend to stop scaring you in the middle of the night.

"fine, fine. i'll tell you... he obviously wants you to cuddle with him!"

"yeah, that's what we've been doing. for the past 4 years we've been dating" you deadpan, but she just rolls her eyes at you. "okay yeah, but not like that." she explains, rolling her eyes again when you're dumbfounded.

"he wants you to cuddle with him like how you cuddle that cat! duh! is that not how you hug it or what?" she exaggerates, nearly standing up at how oblivious you are. you take a minute to think back to the last couple nights.

huh, maybe she's right (again? seriously, you got to stop boosting her ego). you normally slept with the stuffed animal with it tucked under your head, was jihoon really jealous of that? come to think of it, he'd always been the big spoon, but it's not like you two had assigned roles to each other or anything, so why would he wait so long just for you to cuddle with him like that? must be some weird double standard bullshit.

anyways, now you have a plan. the goal? to get jihoon to admit his fears once and for all (and partially for him to stop looking at you weirdly in the middle of the night).

when you get home, jihoon's passed out on the couch. not a problem. you go along with your day, finish some coursework, and then get ready for bed. essentially, you do everything you'd do on a normal day, but when it's time for bed, you call out for your boyfriend.

"jihoon! shouldn't you go shower?" you ask. he groans from the living room, shuffling around before entering the bedroom, opening some drawers and pulling out random clothes from it. "i'll be back soon," he says, entering the bathroom. "i'll wait for you～" you sing song back.

only 15 minutes later, he's walking out of the bathroom in his usual sleep wear, no shirt and black shorts. if this had been around 4 years ago when you started living together, you would've gawked at the sight, but by now you were used to it (more like, you learned how to control your reaction).

you put down your phone and watch intently as he walks over. "why are you looking at me like that-" he's cut off mid-question when you drag him onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.

he lands with an 'oomph' and you use all your strength to pull him so he's tucked into you. you honestly think he's going to pop straight back up, but he doesn't, simply complying and cuddling closer to you.

"do you like this?" you ask, holding him close. he seems taken aback; his breath hitches against your neck, and there's a long silence before he answers. "um..."

"i knew it! why didn't you just say so baby?" you say, almost teasingly. he groans, but doesn't push back. if anything, he gets closer, trying to hide the obvious flush that starts to spread across his face. you don't tease him any further, deciding he's embarrassed enough, and simply continue to hold him in a comfortable silence.

"but seriously, why didn't you tell me? i have no problem with it." you ask after a while, looking down to check if he's even awake when a minute passes without an answer. he looks up at you shyly before explaining.

"i didn't even know i liked it until i came home and saw you hugging that thing, really. i guess i was jealous of it? i couldn't tell until i was in that position and realized that i enjoyed it. it felt weird to ask for it, so i just waited till you were.. dazed? god, that sounds bad." he says, putting his head down at the last sentence.

you laugh, "what?? i didn't know you were so evil my hoonie." you tease, letting him break free from your grasp and use juni to smack you in the face. and you decide you're not taking that, so a pillow fight breaks out, except he's still clutching onto the cat with his life, not letting it go as he swings at you. before long, you both give up, landing on the bed, sweating and hearts pounding.

you're both laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "wow, it's really been awhile since i did that." he comments, turning his head at you. maybe that's only something you hear in movies, but you don't care. "come over here, you sappy guy."

he listens, rolling over and letting you tuck him into your chest. "your sappy guy, right?" he asks, voice vibrating against you.

"my sappy guy? maybe i should've been doing this from the start-" and he's hitting you again.

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mona-risms · 3 days ago

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hear me out.. polytrix x reader where fem!reader doesn't know about the whole demon hunter thing and is still under the hypnosis from the saja boys and the girls try their hardest to snap her out of it. 🫦

◆ MAIN COURSE: poly!HUNTR/X x fem!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None

◆ NOTES: This might've SLIGHTLY teeny tinily missed the point but I hope you still like it!! I can't make a full-blown fic without getting paid bc I'm broke as hell and I'm lazy so the most you're getting is the usual hcs and snippets I fear 💔. But anyway I LOVELOVELOVE POLYTRIX 😩😩😩😩😩 I think they should all kiss together and kiss me too

This is the funniest shit ever and no one can tell me otherwise bc you've got three ninja popstars and one perfectly normal human being who just really really loves K-Pop. And you all LOVE each other????? #holyfcknairball no one would believe you until you show full proof that yes you do in fact kiss those celebrities on the mouth! Every day actually! Unless they're on tour but still! Yes you are a girls only poly couple! You couldn't be happier!

Unfortunately bc of the fact that you're normal, you won't even know that the hot new boy band, Saja Boys, are all drawing people in via brainwashing to sacrifice your souls to a Demon King named Gwi-Ma that looks like an oversized wildfire. Said people includes you I fear 💔💔. Imagine you were out coincidentally and you got to witness their debut performance and you were so drawn to them!! Why wouldn't you be??

They hear your voice before they see you—right there, right near the front row, right in front of them.

"What's she doing here?" Mira hissed, though despite her tone, the concern was glaringly obvious.

"I think she wanted to buy something? She said about baking," Zoey answered, her own concern matching up with Mira as she bounced on the balls of her feet in an attempt to both alleviate her sudden restlessness and to see you from the crowd. "But-- But what if they try to grab her? [Y/N]'s at a very grabbable distance! And the worst thing is I won't even blame them—she's really grabbable in general!"

Zoey doesn't even finish before Rumi's weaving through the crowd in an attempt to reach you, "Either way, no one is getting grabbed, least of all our girlfriend."

When Rumi does reach you, she taps your shoulder to gain your attention. Without fail, you turn around and smile widely in recognition, "Ru-- Ahem, babe! Did you see how good this new band was? They're called the Saja Boys!"

"Yeah. I heard."

Usually, you would've noticed her sudden deadpan, but you were buzzing too much under your skin from the sudden excitement of this new debut so you barrelled on, "Maybe you and them'll even collab one day! Wouldn't that be awesome?!"

"Yeah, awesome, now c'mon, we need to get out of the crowd," she effortlessly twines her fingers in yours, which you reciprocate happily as you follow her while still going on about the Saja Boys. But when she dares to look back at the boy band, she noticed the black-haired demon in disguise's eyes on you.. and then on her, as if he knew very well what was going on.

When you finally get out of the crowd, you rejoin your other two loves of your life with a cheek kiss for Mira and then a squealing hug with Zoey.

Mira doesn't hesitate to ask as you and the shortest HUNTR/X member basically wrapped yourselves on each other, "Are you okay? They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"Yeah, like, did they ever, I dunno.. suck your soul out or something?" Zoey asked, and then quietly winced as Mira and Rumi both signalled not to say anything with exaggerated expressions and hand gestures behind you.

You giggled at the line of questioning, "What? No? My soul definitely felt like it ascended while watching them, though! You guys are funny."

While you and Zoey were busy clinging onto each other, Rumi pulled Mira in to whisper to her, "They know."

"Know what?"

"That we're linked together in some way? That she's a normal human? I don't know, but they know and I don't want to risk her to find out. Do you?"

And their gazes drift to you as you spoke animatedly with Zoey, equally rambling to you and matching your energy in turn—probably both invested in the situation and also well-aware of the much-needed secret debriefing.

And Mira shook her head with furrowed brows, "Absolutely not."

"Good."

Whenever the girls are all "DON'T FALL FOR THEM" you're so confused bc like. Why?? What's up with them recently???? Ever since the Saja Boys popped up, they've been so weirdly pressed about them every time you brought them up. Like, sure, rivalry's one thing, but you've seen them with rivalries before!!!!! It's not like the Saja Boys have like killed people or smth lmfao it's okay the world's not gonna end if you stan them too (cue the scene with them and Bobby looking at the same city and seeing Two Completely Different Views)

Every time you're ever with them one way or another and the Saja Boys are around/involved they are LOCKING THE FUCK IN. Constantly trying to redirect your attention and theirs like "Do Not Look At Her" and if you ever get too close they'll be all "back the FUCK up actually". And whenever thry try to pull all that hypnotising shit on you they are DRAGGING YOU AWAY and kissing you until you run out of air and forget what you were even thinking about like a min ago 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

They're so much more attentive towards you, and during the two weeks of the Saja Boys being there, you are NOT allowed to be without at LEAST one of them. Why?? Ohhhh yk cuz they just really really miss you, that's all!!!!! They did just come out of a world tour so like they wanna be with you for as much as possible ahahahaha definitely bc the boy band you're fawning over rn are actually demons that want to consume your soul!!! Especially yours!!!!!! Bc they know you're special to them all ahahahahaahahahahahahaahahhaa

Oh but it'd be devastating if Mira and Zoey saw you with the crowd after Rumi's breakdown. Not only Bobby was brainwashed, but so are you, mindlessly following the masses. And as much as they want you to fight it, to remember, they can't even blame you or find the strength; they failed, Rumi hid she was part-demon the entire time, it's over

You'd be one of the people closest to Gwi-Ma's flames on purpose I think—a twisted way for Jinu to make your sacrifice quick and painless. But when Rumi and then Zoey and Mira both clock it? Absolutely the fuck not dude Gwi-Ma just made them even fucking MADDER

At the end of it they know they'll definitely have to explain everything to you, considering. From the Saja boys to Rumi explaining herself properly ALLLLL the way to how they're Hunters and what they do. But at the very least you're not dead thank GOD

"You guys know I don't actually know how to feel right now, right? Finding out that my girlfriends have been constantly getting into near-death experiences as, like, idol ninjas with magic weapons isn't really for the faint of heart—let alone finding out demons and supernatural whatevers are real."

The four of you migrated to Rumi's bed after that whole ordeal at the Tower, tired and exhausted and in need of a good cuddle pile. Right now, you and Rumi were cuddled up against each other, her patterns casting a soft glow on your skin, while Mira was spooning you with her tall frame and Zoey clung onto Rumi like a koala.

The trio had the decency to wince a little, and Mira spoke first in defence, "To be fair, we did get trained for, like, years not to give anything away, including our Hunter profession."

"And I'm your girlfriend," you sighed as your hand traced the jagged glowing lines across Rumi's skin, "I thought we weren't going to hide anything. No wonder sometimes you lot disappear without any explanation—this whole time, you've been.. slaying demons?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You hummed.. before putting your attention on Rumi, "And you. You really think we were going to love you any less because of what you're mixed with?"

"Um. Kinda?" Rumi looked to the side, averting your gazes, "It's-- I was raised to think that I should be ashamed of it, that I need to hide. It's--"

"Why you always have a separate green room?"

"Why you don't go into the batthouse with us?"

Rumi nodded, though not without a flush on her cheeks, "..yeah."

Your gaze softened as you lightly bit your lip before cupping her face for a short but tender kiss, "You think that's gonna really scare me—us—away? Mira and Zoey came back to you after the shock, and I sure as hell don't care if you were part-turtle or whatever--"

"Being part-turtle would be cool! ..Or super slow, depends--"

"My point being," you interrupted Zoey with an affectionate chuckle, "we love you because you're our Rumi. Not an idol, not a demon, just our Rumi—the one that overthinks, overworks and gets so into her head that we'd have to shut it for her. ..No more hiding, yeah?"

Rumi doesn't respond, not for a long while, and thre three of you are content in just laying there in silence, with her patterns casting a brighter yet softer glow on all of you. But eventually she buries her head in your chest, muffling her eventual answer, "..Mhm. Thank you."

Zoey's hold on Rumi tightened as she practically nuzzled into the latter's back, all while Mira reached over to hold Rumi's hand, now back to its human shape compared to the claws she had briefly before. No one else says anything, and that's perfectly fine for the four of you.

"..So I guess I'm retiring from stanning anyone but you guys."

"Obviously!" "Duh." "You are."

#mona's main course...#rumi x reader #kdh rumi x reader #mira x reader #kdh mira x reader #zoey x reader #kdh zoey x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters imagines #kdh x reader #kdh imagines #huntrix x reader #huntrix imagines #huntr/x x reader #huntr/x imagines

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mrsfancyferrari · 4 months ago

Text

24 Hours Without You

Summary: A dare from Lando led to Oscar not having any contact from you for 24 hours. Well he tried to.

Song: Love Drought · Beyoncé

Author’s note: Happy Valentines day to all couples and all singles (like me 🥲), either I hope you have a good day! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 3.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The lights of the McLaren production studio flickered with anticipation, the hum of laughter from the crew blending into the casual camaraderie surrounding Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris.

The two drivers, known not only for their prowess on the Formula 1 tracks but also for their undeniable charisma off of it, sat on plush bean bags before a camera.

Today’s content was light-hearted—an episode of "Truth or Dare," where playful banter was the currency of the moment.

In the midst of the gleeful chaos, Lando held up a hand, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Truth or dare?” he shot at Oscar, who had his fingers nervously tapping on the surface of his knee.

Oscar, who had been bracing for this exact moment, hesitated. He’d opted for “truth” in virtually every previous round, hoping to avoid anything too embarrassing.

But the staff behind the camera were practically pleading with him to choose “dare”—for the sake of content, of course.

“Dare,” he finally relented, a playful smirk hiding the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. He expected something innocuous, maybe a challenge to show off an embarrassing childhood photograph or to tweet an old picture of himself wearing an awkward haircut.

But Lando’s grin widened unnaturally as he clapped his hands together. “I dare you to spend 24 hours away from your girlfriend and document it to show the fans how needy you are for her!”

Oscar blinked. “Wait, what?” It was more of a stutter than a question.

Lando, brimming with enthusiasm, leaned into the camera with an exaggerated expression. “You heard me! No calls, no texts, and definitely no see-you-later kisses! We want to see how long it takes for you to break.”

Oscar felt his cheeks flush. This wasn’t just some off-the-cuff banter in the drivers' room. This was being filmed. This was going to be on YouTube. This was going to be everywhere.

He glanced around, hoping for a lifeline from even a vaguely sympathetic face from his engineer. He found none. They were all either strategically avoiding eye contact or subtly smirking.

"What if I say no?" Oscar asked, the words laced with a desperate hope that this whole thing was a joke, a prank that had gone too far.

He’d already planned on going to your house later that day for a quiet movie night and homemade pasta, a tradition they’d started a few years after they’d started dating.

The thought of not seeing you, not hearing your voice, for an unknown amount of time… it felt like a physical ache.

Lando’s grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eye. “Then you have to let me pass in the next 3 races if you're in the lead,” he said, the words dripping with smug confidence.

He knew Oscar was fiercely competitive. He knew this would sting.

Oscar groaned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “Why are you so against me, mate?” He couldn't fathom Lando's sudden, intense interest in his love life, or rather, in trying to sabotage it.

"I just want to show the world how much of a simp you are," Lando replied, his tone teasing, but with an underlying edge that Oscar couldn’t quite decipher.

“Is this even allowed?” Oscar asked, appealing to the staff, hoping someone would intervene, would point out the absurdity of the situation. This had to be a breach of some sort of code of conduct, right?

"Of course, it is!" Lando declared, throwing his arms wide. "It's content! Think of the views!"

Oscar knew, deep down, that the team probably did see it as ‘content.’

In the cutthroat world of Formula 1, where every millisecond and every marketing opportunity mattered, this ridiculous challenge probably seemed like a stroke of genius.

He looked back at Lando, his friend's face alight with mischievous glee. He looked at the cameras, the expectant faces of the crew.

He looked at the faces of the team, already calculating potential audience engagement.

“Fine,” he said, the word feeling like a lead weight in his mouth. “But you owe me big time for this, Lando.”

Lando whooped, jumping off the toolbox and slapping Oscar on the back. “That’s the spirit! Challenge accepted! And don’t worry, the world will thank me for this entertainment!”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, a familiar gesture when frustration gnawed at him. He fished his phone out of his pocket, the bright screen momentarily blinding in the dim light of the hallway.

There they were, a string of messages from you, each one a little more frantic than the last.

“Hey, everything okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”

“Oscar? You haven’t even seen my meme! It’s hilarious, you HAVE to see it.”

“Seriously, starting to worry. Call me when you get a chance.”

And finally, a more plaintive, “I miss you. Hope you’re okay.”

He cursed under his breath, a sharp, involuntary sound. Lando. It was always Lando. This stupid dare, this ridiculous game, had ripped a hole in his day, a hole that was shaped exactly like you.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, the cool glass a constant reminder of the connection he was deliberately severing.

“See you guys,” he mumbled to the departing camera crew, offering a weak wave.

He then turned to Lando, delivered a playful, but firm, punch to his shoulder, and escaped to the sanctuary of his apartment.

He knew, logically, that it was just 24 hours. A single day. But the thought of willingly ignoring you felt like a betrayal, a small chink in the fortress of their relationship.

He cherished your texts, your calls, the small everyday interactions that stitched together the tapestry of their lives. Being without them, even for a fleeting moment, felt… wrong.

He threw himself onto the couch, intending to relax, maybe watch some mindless TV. But your voice echoed in his head, replaying snippets of conversations, silly jokes, and whispered sweet nothings.

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure your face, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, the soft curve of your smile. He needed to hear your voice, desperately.

He got up, restless, and paced the small apartment. He considered calling Lando, admitting defeat, throwing in the towel. But pride, that stubborn, annoying companion, held him back.

He’d made a commitment, however foolish, and he intended to see it through.

Sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned, the silence amplifying the absence of your goodnight text, your usual, comforting presence. He got up, made himself a cup of tea, and stared out the window at the twinkling city lights.

Each light, he imagined, represented a connection, a conversation, a life unfolding. And he was deliberately cutting himself off from one of the most important ones.

Finally, exhaustion claimed him, but it was a restless, fractured sleep, filled with snippets of dreams where he was chasing you through crowded streets, always just out of reach.

The next morning dawned gray and overcast, mirroring his mood. He dragged himself out of bed, the weight of fatigue heavy on his shoulders.

Today was qualifying, a crucial part of the race weekend, and he needed to be sharp, focused. This was not the condition that he wants to be in.

He arrived at the track, the buzz of activity usually energizing, today felt like a dull hum. He went through the motions, the familiar routines a small comfort in the unsettling void.

Lando found him in the McLaren garage, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “Hey mate, have you given up yet?” he asked, slapping Oscar’s shoulder a little too hard.

Oscar winced, both from the physical blow and the reminder of the dare. “Nope,” he mumbled, the word devoid of any real conviction. He was tired, irritable, and more than anything, he missed you.

The thought of the next few hours stretching out before him, devoid of your presence, felt unbearable.

“Don’t worry, Osc,” Lando teased, oblivious to the genuine discomfort he was causing. “Just a few hours left. Think of the gloating rights!”

Oscar just glared at him, the playful banter lost on his weary mind. He wanted to tell Lando how much this stupid dare was affecting him, how much he relied on your support, your laughter, your simple, unwavering belief in him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to articulate it. It felt too vulnerable, too personal.

The day dragged on, each minute a tiny eternity. He went through the qualifying rounds, his performance adequate, but lacking the spark he usually possessed.

He could feel the absence of your encouragement, the subtle confidence boost he always got from knowing you were watching, cheering him on.

Between sessions, he retreated to his driver’s room, fighting the urge to reach for his phone. He scrolled through news articles, read through performance data, anything to distract himself from the aching void that was growing larger with each passing second.

Then, during the buildup to Q3, he was sat in the car and ready to go when his engineer, Tom, spoke over the radio. "Okay Oscar, you're up next, are you ready?"

Oscar gripped the wheel a little tighter, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Yeah I'm ready, is there any changes?"

Tom paused for moment and Oscar thought he hadn't head him. "No changes, but your girlfriend wanted me to pass on a message, she said good luck and she misses you, now go show them what you are capable of."

Oscar's heart skipped a beat. He didn't know you had talked to his engineer, but the small gesture warmed him from the inside.

It was exactly the kind of thing you would do, finding a way to break through his self-imposed barrier without directly contacting him.

The message worked. Oscar's spirits lifted and he felt a fresh surge of determination coursing through him.

He took off onto the track and delivered a blistering lap, securing a strong position on the starting grid.

He should be celebrating with the team, analysing telemetry, strategizing for tomorrow's race. But all he could think about was you. All because of Lando's stupid dare.

The qualifying result helped, but it didn't fill the void. After the debrief, he couldn't take it anymore. He muttered a quick goodbye to the team, ignoring their puzzled looks, and practically sprinted to his car.

He drove to your house, his hands clenched on the steering wheel, his heart pounding in his chest.

He parked the car, took a deep breath, and walked up to your front door. He had a key, a privilege he still cherished. He unlocked the door and let himself in.

“Hello?” he heard you say from inside, his footsteps louder than usual in the silence of the house.

He couldn’t speak. He stood frozen in the hallway, suddenly feeling ashamed and foolish.

How could he have ignored you because of a stupid dare?

He’d prioritized a silly game over your feelings, over his own need to be with you. The reality of his actions hit him like a punch to the gut.

You appeared in the doorway, your eyes widening in surprise. You were wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants, your hair pulled back in a messy bun. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.

“Oscar? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice a mixture of surprise and something he couldn’t quite decipher. He swallowed hard but found the words stuck somewhere deep in his throat.

“I…um…” He was fumbling, just like the first time he’d ever tried to ask you out. He felt like he was letting a ridiculous dare take precedence over something–over someone–he truly cared about.

"You weren't answering my messages, I thought I did something wrong," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he blurted out, finally finding his voice. “It’s just… it was a stupid dare. From Lando. He dared me not to contact you for 24 hours.”

He cringed at the sound of his own explanation. It sounded pathetic, even to him.

He could practically see the disbelief forming in your eyes, the flicker of hurt morphing into something colder, something more distant.

He’d hoped to mitigate the damage, but he suspected he’d only made things worse. The dare, the explanation, the whole situation… it all felt utterly ridiculous and deeply, deeply wrong.

The silence descended again, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, you muttered, the words barely audible, “Am I just a dare to you?” The question hit him like a physical blow, a sharp, searing pain that ripped through his chest.

The accusation, even whispered, was devastating. It was the very antithesis of everything he felt, everything he wanted you to believe.

The thought that you could even consider him capable of such callousness was unbearable. He had to convince you, he had to erase any doubt that lingered in your mind, or he risked losing you forever.

“No!” It burst from him, a desperate plea laced with raw emotion, desperation threading his tone. "I love you more than that," he continued, his voice cracking with the intensity of his feelings.

He reached out, instinctively wanting to touch you, to reassure you, but hesitated, unsure if you'd welcome the gesture.

You paused, your gaze intense, scanning his face for any sign of deception. He met your eyes, unflinchingly, letting his own reflect the truth of his words.

He knew he had to be an open book, to let you see the regret, the love, the sheer desperation that consumed him. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you scrutinized him, searching for any flicker of falsehood.

Each passing second felt like an eternity, the silence amplifying the pounding of his heart in his ears. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly.

"Well then, why?" you asked, your voice softer now, but still tinged with hurt. The question hung in the air, demanding an explanation, a justification for his inexplicable actions.

It was a reasonable question, one he knew he deserved. But the truth was, he didn’t have a good answer.

He shuffled his feet, avoiding your gaze. The usually confident Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 sensation, looked like a scolded puppy.

"I… I don't know why I agreed to it, but I knew I regretted it as soon as I said yes. I couldn't concentrate at all today or sleep without your voice. The only reason I didn't crash out of tiredness was because of your message that Tom gave me," he ranted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He was scared. You could see it in the way his hands trembled slightly, the way his eyes darted around the room, anywhere but at you. This was the only real relationship he'd ever been in, the only one that felt… right.

He loved you, a dizzying, heart-wrenching, terrifying kind of love that had taken root ever since he saw you in that crowded lecture hall, your face illuminated by the glow of your laptop screen.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. He waited for you to speak, to yell, to do anything. But you didn't. He panicked more.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. You could see the desperation etched on his face, the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard being mad at him, especially knowing how much he hated being apart from you.

Finally, you sighed, a weary sound that seemed to deflate him even further. You pushed aside your anger, the petty hurt that had been bubbling beneath the surface for the past day.

You knew how easily Lando could goad him into things, how Oscar, despite his steely determination on the track, could be surprisingly susceptible to peer pressure.

You moved forward, closing the distance between you. He flinched slightly, bracing himself for… what, you didn't know.

Instead, you went on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne – something uniquely Oscar.

You missed it, even though you were with him just two days ago.

Oscar froze, his breath catching in his throat. He gradually relaxed, melting into your embrace, his own arms wrapping tightly around your waist. He missed you too. More than you knew.

"You're lucky Lando told me about it and bribed me with pictures of you looking depressed to not get mad at you," you muttered into his shoulder, your voice muffled.

He chuckled weakly, a sound that vibrated against you. "He what?"

"He’s been sending me pictures all day," you said, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "Apparently, you kept staring at your phone with this forlorn expression. Lando said it was hilarious, but also that he felt bad for you."

Oscar groaned, burying his face in your hair. "I'm going to kill him."

"He did say he'd run if he saw you coming," you said with a small smile. "And, you know, it worked. I was going to give you the silent treatment for a week."

He pulled back, his eyes wide with mock horror. "A week? That’s cruel and unusual punishment!"

"You deserve it," you retorted, but the threat lacked teeth. "Now, tell me everything. How awful was it? Did you actually cry?"

He grinned, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I did not cry. I may have considered it, though."

You laughed, relieved that the tension had dissipated. "So, what exactly did Lando dare you to do?"

"He said I couldn't contact you in any way, shape, or form for twenty-four hours. No calls, no texts, no social media. Nothing," Oscar explained. "He said it would be a 'fun challenge' and that I needed to 'toughen up' or something ridiculous like that."

"And you agreed?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grimaced. "I don't know what I was thinking. I think I wanted to prove I could do it, that I wasn't… overly reliant on you."

"And how did that work out for you?" you teased.

He sighed dramatically. "Terribly. Absolutely terribly. I spent the entire day pacing around, checking my phone every five minutes. I couldn't focus on anything. Even driving felt more dangerous than usual."

"That's because you were thinking about me," you said, a smug smile playing on your lips.

"Of course I was," he said, cupping your face in his hands. "You're all I ever think about."

You blushed, but your heart swelled at his words. "So, lesson learned?"

"Lesson learned," he confirmed, leaning in to kiss you. "I'm never agreeing to anything Lando says ever again."

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with the unspoken relief of being together again. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.

"You know," you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Lando also dared me to ignore you for the next twenty-four hours. But he didn't bribe me with pictures of you looking miserable."

Oscar’s eyes widened. "You wouldn’t!"

You just smiled, a silent promise of playful revenge hanging in the air. He knew you wouldn’t actually follow through, not completely.

But the thought of it, the tiny seed of uncertainty, was enough to make him cling to you even tighter.

"Don’t you dare," he whispered, burying his face in your hair again. "Please. I can’t handle another day like today."

You laughed, a warm, happy sound that echoed through the room. He was an idiot, a lovable, racing-obsessed idiot, and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "I'll spare you… this time. But you owe me big time. And you're buying me dinner. Somewhere expensive."

"Anything," he said, pulling back to look at you, his eyes filled with genuine affection. "Anything for you."

And you knew he meant it. The dare had been stupid, a momentary lapse in judgment fueled by Lando’s mischievous influence. But it had also served as a reminder, a stark glimpse of what life would be like without each other. And neither of you wanted to ever experience that again.

You were connected, intertwined, and the thought of being apart, even for a day, was unbearable.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapped securely around you. The storm had passed, leaving behind a quiet calm. And in the comfort of his embrace, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

As long as you had each other, you could face anything. Even Lando’s ridiculous dares. . . .

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anghraine · 9 months ago

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It's always been intriguing to me that, even when Elizabeth hates Darcy and thinks he's genuinely a monstrous, predatory human being, she does not ever perceive him as sexually predatory. In fact, literally no one in the novel suggests or believes he is sexually dangerous at any point. There's not the slightest hint of that as a factor in the rumors surrounding him, even though eighteenth-century fiction writers very often linked masculine villainy to a possibility of sexual predation in the subtext or just text*. Austen herself does this over and over when it comes to the true villains of her novels.

Even as a supposed villain, though, Darcy is broadly understood to be predatory and callous towards men who are weaker than him in status, power, and personality—with no real hint of sexual threat about it at all (certainly none towards women). Darcy's "villainy" is overwhelmingly about abusing his socioeconomic power over other men, like Wickham and Bingley. This can have secondhand effects on women's lives, but as collateral damage. Nobody thinks he's targeting women.

In addition, Elizabeth's interpretations of Darcy in the first half of the book tend to involve associating him with relatively prestigious women by contrast to the men in his life (he's seen as extremely dissimilar from his male friends and, as a villain, from his father). So Elizabeth understands Darcy-as-villain not in terms of the popular, often very sexualized images of masculine villainy at the time, but in terms of rich women she personally despises like Caroline Bingley and Lady Catherine de Bourgh (and even Georgiana Darcy; Elizabeth assumes a lot about Georgiana in service of her hatred of Darcy before ever meeting her).

The only people in Elizabeth's own community who side with Darcy at this time are, interestingly, both women, and likely the highest-status unmarried women in her community: Charlotte Lucas and Jane Bennet. Both have some temperamental affinities with Darcy, and while it's not clear if he recognizes this, he quietly approves of them without even knowing they've been sticking up for him behind the scenes.

This concept of Darcy-as-villain is not just Elizabeth's, either. Darcy is never seen by anyone as a sexual threat no matter how "bad" he's supposed to be. No one is concerned about any danger he might pose to their daughters or sisters. Kitty is afraid of him, but because she's easily intimidated rather than any sense of actual peril. Even another man, Mr Bennet, seems genuinely surprised to discover late in the novel that Darcy experiences attraction to anything other than his own ego.

I was thinking about this because of how often the concept of Darcy as an anti-hero before Elizabeth "fixes him" seems caught up in a hypermasculine, sexually dangerous, bad boy image of him that even people who actively hate him in the novel never subscribe to or remotely imply. Wickham doesn't suggest anything of the kind, Elizabeth doesn't, the various gossips of Meryton don't, Mr Bennet and the Gardiners don't, nobody does. If anything, he's perceived as cold and sexless.

Wickham in particular defines Darcy's villainy in opposition to the patriarchal ideal his father represented. Wickham's version of their history works to link Darcy to Lady Anne, Lady Catherine (primarily), and Georgiana rather than any kind of masculine sexuality. This version of Darcy is a villain who colludes with unsympathetic high-status women to harm men of less power than themselves, but villain!Darcy poses no direct threat to women of any kind.

It's always seemed to me that there's a very strong tendency among fans and academics to frame Darcy as this ultra-gendered figure with some kind of sexual menace going on, textually or subtextually. He's so often understood entirely in terms of masculinity and sexual desire, with his flaws closely tied to both (whether those flaws are his real ones, exaggerated, or entirely manufactured). Yet that doesn't seem to be his vibe to other characters in the story. There's a level at which he does not register to other characters as highly masculine in his affiliations, highly sexual, or in general as at all unsafe** to be around, even when they think he's a monster. And I kind of feel like this makes the revelations of his actual decency all along and his full-on heroism later easier to accept in the end.

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*The incompetently awful villain(?) in Sanditon, for instance, imagines himself another Lovelace (a reference to the famous rapist-villain of Samuel Richardson's Clarissa). Evelina's sheltered education and lack of protectors makes her vulnerable to sexual exploitation in Frances Burney's Evelina, though she ultimately manages to avoid it. There's frequently an element of sexual predation in Gothic novels even of very different kinds (e.g. Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho and Matthew Lewis's The Monk both lean into this, in their wildly dissimilar styles). William Godwin's novel Caleb Williams, a book mostly about the destructive evils of class hierarchies and landowning classes specifically, depicts the mutual obsession of the genteel villain Falkland and working class hero Caleb in notoriously homoerotic terms (Godwin himself added a preface in 1832 saying, "Falkland was my Bluebeard, who had perpetrated atrocious crimes ... Caleb Williams was the wife"). This list could go on for a very long time.

**Darcy is also not usually perceived by other characters as a particularly sexual, highly masculine person in a safe way, either, even once his true character is known. Elizabeth emphasizes the resilience of Darcy's love for her more than the passionate intensity they both evidently feel; in the later book, she does sometimes makes assumptions about his true feelings or intentions based on his gender, but these assumptions are pretty much invariably shown to be wrong. In general the cast is completely oblivious to the attraction he does feel; even Charlotte, who wonders about something in that quarter, ends up doubting her own suspicions and wonders if he's just very absent-minded.

The novel emphasizes that he is physically attractive, but it goes to pains to distinguish this from Wickham's sex appeal or the charisma of a Bingley or Fitzwilliam. Mr Bennet (as mentioned above) seems to have assumed Darcy is functionally asexual, insofar as he has a concept of that. Most of the fandom-beloved moments in which Darcy is framed as highly sexual, or where he himself is sexualized for the audience, are very significantly changed in adaptation or just invented altogether for the adaptations they appear in. Darcy watching Elizabeth after his bath in the 1995 is invented for that version, him snapping at Elizabeth in their debates out of UST is a persistent change from his smiling banter with her in the book, the fencing to purge his feelings is invented, the pond swim/wet shirt is invented. In the 2005 P&P, the instant reaction to Elizabeth is invented, the hand flex of repressed passion is invented, the Netherfield Ball dance as anything but an exercise in mutual frustration is invented, the near-kiss after the proposal in invented, etc. And in those as well, he's never presented as sexually predatory, not even as a "villain."

#self-indulgently long tangents even for me but i had Thoughts!#i almost appended a third footnote to the second footnote. rip #anghraine babbles #long post #fitzwilliam darcy #lady anne blogging #austen blogging #austen fanwank #ivory tower blogging #anghraine's meta #eighteenth century blogging #gender blogging #i do think it's interesting that associating his flaws with lady catherine's is honestly fair - she comes to wonder about this later #but lbr that is totally understandable! lady catherine is the awful parody version of him!#but the times when elizabeth's assumptions are highly inflected by Yes All Men Actually generalizations she's utterly wrong #it's not some horrible misdeed but it's not really fair #not because she's oppressing him (lmao) but because people don't work that way #not saying that p&p is some huge blow against gender essentialism but i do think it's FAR less friendly to it than its fans are

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