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aylacavebear · 1 day

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Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.

“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.

How did I end up working here, of all places?

Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.

The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.

It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.

But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.

“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.

“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.

“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.

You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.”

“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”

Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.

Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage.

“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.

“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.

A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.

Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.

He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”

“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.

A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.

“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point.

“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.

“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.

“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.

“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.

“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.

When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.

Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere.

By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride.

“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.

You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them.

Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know.

Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.

You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.

You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.

Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.

Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable.

I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.

Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual.

—----

Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.

“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.

“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.

There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.

It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.

“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.

“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”

You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”

“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.

“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.

You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.

“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.

Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.

“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.

“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.

For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.

“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.

“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.

“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”

“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”

“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.

“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.

“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.

“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.

Shit! I’m gonna be late.

With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.

The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.

You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.

Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”

“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.

“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.

“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.

“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.

You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.

That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body.

—-------

As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.

Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.

Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.

“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.

Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.

“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.

“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.

Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”

Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”

“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.

You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.

I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.

You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.

An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.

Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet.

Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you.

The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in.

So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.

You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.

“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.

“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.

“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.

“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.

“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.

“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously.

You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.

“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.

That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.

John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.

What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.

“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.

That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.

“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.

“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.

Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.

John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least.

While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.

“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.

“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.

“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.

“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.

Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.

“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.

You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”

“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.

You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.

“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.

Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”

You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”

“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.

Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.

You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.

“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.

“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.

“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.

As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.

There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.

Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that.

“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.

“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.

Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.

“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.

“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.

So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about.

“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.

You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.

The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.

Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.

How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right?

You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.

Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2 - Coming soon

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esamastation · 3 days

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hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)

you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.

your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)

yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!

Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.

I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)

I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.

Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.

Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.

Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.

#About writing #Fake it till you make it basically #Obviously don't copy straight up that won't teach you anything - but master studies are one of the better training methods for a reason #Lot of the old masterpieces were produced by people who were once students emulating the styles of their predecessors

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saintobio · 3 days

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saint!! i just want to thank you for writing these stories and sharing them!! your works are actual masterpieces!! i love reading everything to do with them & i love reading the theories in the comments.

for bc ughhhh seeing your explanation of how a guy could be with someone for years and not feel ready for marriage until the next one is so true… the ‘right person, wrong time’ hurts with bc so much more because they both knew they messed up, but the ending was still so sweet since both of them got closure and have moved on. i feel like it’s one of the happiest endings ive seen in one of your fics.

and sy omg!! the miscommunication is actually killing me, if they just talked this whole thing could probably be cut in half!! they care for each other way more than either of them care to admit, but labeled sleeping together a mistake??? maybe the first time but not the second 😭😭 and sy12 sneak peek KILLED ME!! because again, the miscommunication, her pushing for them to forget it happened was so sad!! i’m scared to see what will happen in sy but im also so glad you chose to come back to it and share it with us.

i hope everything is going well with you, that the start of summer has been good to you so far, and that life & the weather is treating you well!! thank you for being so amazing <333

thank you lovely!!! i always read ur tags and comments and i stg they always have me cryingggg :’) i appreciate you sm <3 summer has been going well yep, i hope things are doing great for u as well!!

for bc yeah i think they call that the taxi cab theory or something similar? and it hurts. i don’t ever wanna be subjected to that. but i agree, a realistic ending is considered a happy ending in my dictionary so… ahahah

sy would definitely have ended in 4-5 chapters if they had just talked and not let their pride win over, but then again, certain traumas can’t be overcome overnight 🥹 also yeah bahahaha i’m here to tell yn thats not a mistake babe u let gojo hit it twice 😭

#🖤: letters to saint #series: sincerely yours #series: blank canvas

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epickiya722 · 18 hours

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If there has been one time I was genuinely annoyed with Izuku is this scene right here. And just know I will be again when it's animated.

There was no reason for him to stay and chat with Toga over what she meant by "boyfriend". Absolutely no reason.

Izuku, honey, you are everything to me but oh my gosh...

She just said she wants to be me, how she wants to suck your blood. And your reaction is to clarify what she meant by "boyfriend"?

IZUKU, GO! FUCKING GO!!

She is not the villain Izuku need to be facing. And I know some people will argue "but he wants to save people" but...

You know how hero characters will have that specific villain character? Yeah, no, Toga was not his. His was currently in the sky far, far away.

He should have skedaddle the fuck out of the there the first chance he got. When he realized Danger Sense didn't click, he should have moved and got the going. Like, Izuku, you are my favorite character of this manga/anime... but no! YOU GET THE MOVING OUT OF THERE!

Toga is for Ochaco (and Tsuyu, thank goodness for her, real MVP of that bit) to face. She is Ochaco's villain to save.

I'm so glad though Horikoshi didn't have him stay there longer and turned that whole thing into some meaningless catfight over Izuku.

Note: Just so we're clear here, I know Toga mentioned the word "boyfriend" before this part. I read the manga just like the rest of you. I'm not dumb. What I'm talking about here is that Izuku stayed on the fact she said "boyfriend" and even continued to stay to clarify even though right after that she said all this. Maybe it's just me, but the moment she mentioned sucking blood and wanting to be a person, "boyfriend" would have been thrown right out the window. I'm sorry, that's just me.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #just kiya's thoughts #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #deku #toga himiko #himiko toga #tsuyu asui #asui tsuyu #uraraka ochako #ochako uraraka #bnha spoilers #bnha 348

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sorrel-leaf-vespers · 2 days

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More Sitcom AU writing, continued from the previous post! You guys' kind words on the last one meant a lot to me, especially since I haven't been able to share my writing with anyone in a long while, and have straight up never engaged with a community via my craft like this. Thanks for reading!

Clyde had been silent the whole walk. By now, the moon was high in the sky, and the town of Eastridge had been left far behind. Alex’s feet hurt from spending hours walking nonstop through the forest. They were following Clyde, wherever it might have been going.

“I’m assuming we would be getting there much faster if you didn’t have to move at a human’s pace?” Alex finally asked. “Because when we were running there, you were going… really fast.”

“Yeah,” said Clyde. “We’re almost there.”

“So…” Alex stretched. “Veldigun sickness. When will the symptoms set in since that spike was digging into my hand? I’m going to assume the onset might be more rapid because of the prolonged contact. And maybe even more intense.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

The intense growl in Clyde’s voice told Alex to drop the subject. It must have felt ashamed or guilty for giving Alex Veldigun sickness. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“To hide.”

“Where, exactly?”

The question answered itself. Clyde pointed through the trees at what looked like an old, dilapidated house. As they got closer, Clyde showed no fear. This place must be safe if that’s the case, Alex figured.

Clyde walked right past the house and toward a nearby barn. It began calling out in a series of shrieks and hisses as it pushed the door open. Nothing responded. “What are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Letting them know we’re here.”

“Friends of yours?” Alex walked into the barn. It was completely dark, other than the light of the moon coming in through the window. “So… what kinds of friends could you-”

A horrid, ear-shattering scream echoed through the barn as something emerged from the darkness. It vaguely resembled a bird, but it was covered in purple and black goo and lacked any legs, just a tail that it slithered along the ground with. It shrieked again and flapped its wings.

“Calm down, Flock. It’s okay.” A second figure approached, this one only about a foot taller than Alex. He was humanoid, but had long, lanky arms covered in stripes like Clyde’s, and a burlap sack over his head. Someone more inexperienced would have considered him a sentient scarecrow, but Alex had enough experience to know that this was another Veldigun. His voice was quiet and gentle, a stark contrast to Clyde’s raspy hiss. “Clyde. Hello.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t expect you to come seeking us out in the middle of the night.”

“It was an emergency.”

The new Veldigun turned to Alex. “You brought a human, huh?”

“I did. That’s Alex.”

“Alex? The Alex Williams you’ve been telling us about?”

“That’s the one.”

“In that case, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Alex. My name is Simon.” Simon politely bowed to them, then gestured to the bird creature. “That’s the Flock. It’s also a Veldigun, but it was never able to fully move on from its Void state. Forgive it if it looks a little… goopy.”

The Flock perked up at its name and said in a perfect imitation of Simon’s voice, “Hi, Flock. Hi, Flock.”

“Uh… hi?” Alex didn’t understand why Simon was being so friendly. He was a Veldigun who had never met them before. “Has Clyde told you about me?”

“Indeed it has. It’s spoken very highly of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey!” Clyde lashed its tail.

Simon let out a small snort. Alex couldn’t tell what he was thinking under that sack. “Regardless,” he said, “I know that Clyde wouldn’t have brought you here without a purpose. What happened?”

Alex told the whole story of that afternoon- their Veldigun research, getting found by the police, the long trek to the barn, all of it. Simon listened attentively, nodding every so often. When Alex finished talking, he turned to look at Clyde. “I see now. You need someplace to hide.”

“Yeah. I figured this was the best place,” said Clyde, crossing its arms. “And there’s another thing you should know… Alex will get Veldigun sickness, since I touched them.”

“It was an accident,” said Alex, jumping to Clyde’s defense.

Simon nodded again. “Alright. We’ll see if we can find any way to make the process more… oh, how do I say this… bearable is how I’ll put it. In the meantime, let’s try to make you comfortable here. If Lankmann is after you, I’ve a feeling you’ll be here a while.”

“Thank you,” said Alex. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s what any good Veldigun would do for an ally.”

The Flock slithered closer, close enough to where Alex could touch it if they wanted. It again started talking in Simon’s voice. “You’re such a good bird. You’re such a good bird. You’re such a good bird.”

Simon chuckled. “That means it likes you.”

For the first time since the police had come knocking, Alex felt genuinely intrigued. Their instinct to write everything down was kicking in. “How does it do that?”

“It’s a master of imitation. My working theory is that it got that ability from consuming birds that live around here. Lots of corvids. Jays, crows, even a raven or two. Those birds possess incredible mimicry capabilities, so I figure they’ve handed that off to the Flock.”

“You seem a lot more comfortable with human speech than Clyde is.”

“I am. I like to watch humans from afar. I’ve picked up a lot.”

“You like humans?”

“In the manner of liking them as more than just meals? Yes. I find them a fascinating species. I’ve done my best to keep them away from Clyde’s claws, but reasoning with it is no easy feat.”

Clyde hissed something that Alex couldn’t exactly make out, but sounded like “Hypocrite.” They decided not to press it. “Well, thanks for trying,” said Alex, smiling up at Simon.

“It’s no problem. Feel free to sleep on the couch we dragged in from that house. It’s old and dirty, but it’s better than nothing. Clyde, you should rest, too. I’ll keep watch.”

“Thank you.” Alex reached out and shook Simon’s hand. They had already touched one Veldigun today. No harm in touching another. “Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome, truly.”

Alex curled up on the couch. They had no blanket or pillow, but they were tired enough to the point where they didn’t need one to fall asleep instantly. They were out in seconds, with no time to think about what the coming days held. That was probably for the best.

#dreams of an insomniac #doai #doai alex williams #doai clyde #doai simon #doai the flock #the flock doai #simon doai #clyde doai #alex williams doai #doai sitcom au #sitcom au doai #sitcom au #pastra #short fiction #short #fanfic

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wcbblife · 30 minutes

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You & Me

a/n: finally finished my pazzi draft yall... hope you enjoy

Warnings: kinda nsfw at the end so read at your own risk.

Summary: Paige can't help but get a little a jealous when she sees Azzi with another man. So, she decides to talk to her.

Paige knew it wasn’t her place. It really wasn’t.

But she couldn't suppress the ugly feeling tugging at her heart as she watched Azzi double over in laughter while talking to someone—a freshman—from the men’s team. The way Azzi's fingers lightly caressed his bicep to stop the flow of jokes spilling from his lips. The way he smiled at her, letting his other hand land on top of hers.

It was only when Aubrey nudged her shoulder and whispered, "You’re staring too hard, bro," that Paige finally broke out of her trance.

She knew she shouldn’t storm up to them and separate them with a nasty shove to the guy. She knew she should just sit tight and look pretty while the cameras were likely pointed toward her or the dancers in front of her. The nails on her hands were digging into her arm, no doubt leaving marks. She just couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how hard she tried.

“What?” Paige cleared her throat, suddenly feeling shy. Her tough exterior would only get her so far with her best friend, who knew her too well.

“I said the three-point contest is about to start.” Aubrey snickered, walking away to join the blue team.

“Shut up,” Paige murmured, following closely behind. By the time she got together with her team, Azzi was lost in the sea of white and dark blue, and Paige had no way of knowing if the man was still close to her. She didn’t get any time to sit and think about it, being whisked around to get ready for the contest.

Almost immediately, she hears the sounds of the net swishing and the basketballs hitting the rims. After a bit, her eyes land on none other than Azzi. She watches closely as Azzi makes shot after shot with little to no problem, much to the amusement of the crowd. The smile on Azzi’s face after releasing the last ball makes Paige swoon, and she glances around, hoping that it would help the blood pooling in her cheeks to dissipate.

The only problem is that she sees Azzi moving back to let the next participant go, the man steps up to her, nudging her shoulder, and leaning down due to their significant height difference to whisper something. Paige knows it's a compliment or something along the lines of “I could never do that,” as she watches Azzi’s dimples just barely show.

The feeling gnaws even harder at Paige, causing her to drum her fingers impatiently against her thighs and her jaw to tighten. She can't help but notice how Azzi never moves away, and how they seem to brush against each other every time they sway side to side while waiting for the contest to finish.

Caroline walks up to them and starts a conversation, which—much to Paige’s relief—causes him to move away a bit. Azzi’s eyes move between the two before finally locking onto Paige, who is still staring. Azzi smiles at something Caroline says, licking her lips and fixing her pants, still zeroed in on Paige. This causes Paige’s heart to thrum uncontrollably in her ribcage, even when Azzi’s eyes go back to Caroline and the guy.

It knocks what little patience and focus Paige had straight out of her body.

“Dude! Seriously, how many times do I have to call you to stop gawking?” Aubrey stands in front of her with an incredulous smile. “Make it at least a bit less obvious, will ya?”

Paige lets out a breathy laugh, scratching her head. “I need to get outta here, bro.”

“Tell me about it,” Aubrey jokes back. “Might just walk right on out.”

“Yeah, right. And let Geno scream at us next practice? No thanks.”

Aubrey chuckles. “Hey, I’m not the one desperate to get outta here for their girl—” Paige cuts her off with a light nudge, causing Aubrey to burst into laughter.

“Stop it, dude.” Paige sulks, looking around for Azzi again, feeling her stomach drop at seeing her absent from her last spot.

“Relax. We’ll be done in a bit.”

Paige knew better. She knew it was in her best interest to heed Azzi’s warning of “don’t be so obvious in public.” She knew she should be on her best behavior with so many eyes on them, acting like they were nothing more than friends.

She also knew she shouldn’t feel so stupidly useless and jealous when Azzi talked to someone else because they weren’t officially a thing. They hadn’t slapped a title on it yet.

Ugh, she thought, as she smiled prettily for the group picture, wrapping a friendly arm around her teammates. Paige made a mental note to bring it up at a better time.

“Alrighty everybody,” a woman in the middle of the court chirped, “We’ve officially ended the first night! Make sure you exit in an orderly manner and we hope to see you next year.” The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and applause as the athletes started making their way out of the court and into the tunnels.

Paige made a beeline to her locker room, hoping to catch Azzi alone, but once she arrived, she found herself alone. One by one, her teammates trickled into the room—courtesy of Nika texting in their chat to meet there—and it wasn’t until Paige actually got up to search for Azzi that she found herself face-to-face with her.

Azzi was giggling when she entered, and Paige let out a breath of relief. Her hands fidgeted, muscles twitching under her skin to reach forward toward Azzi once she met her big brown eyes, but like she had done all night, she held herself back.

Instead, she walked wordlessly into the team huddle, her breath catching a bit as Azzi slotted herself right next to her, wrapping her hands around Paige’s waist. She tuned out the remainder of Geno’s speech as Azzi found the audacity to toy with the stretch band of her shorts, pulling on it. She slipped a finger into the edge of them, and when Paige looked over at her, she was smiling cheekily.

“Alright, now get out of here. I'm tired,” Geno ended his speech, and the girls screamed. Azzi dragged Paige into the team where they all did a short chant before finally walking out of the room.

Finally, they reached a quieter part of the complex. Azzi pulled Paige into an empty room, away from prying eyes.

As they made their way through the tunnels, Paige’s heart raced. The crowded hallways buzzed, and she tried to keep her cool.

Azzi stayed close, their fingers brushing every now and then, sending shivers down Paige’s spine.

She couldn’t wait to get a moment alone with her.

“Azzi,” Paige muttered.

“Yeah?” Azzi's eyes fluttered, looking up at Paige.

“We gotta talk.”

Azzi smirked, “We do?” she teased, stepping closer, her hand grazing Paige's arm. “What about?”

Paige's breath hitched. “You know what about.”

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning in until her lips were mere inches from Paige’s. “You always get so serious,” she whispered, her breath warm against Paige's skin. “Maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Paige's heart pounded, her resolve weakening by the second. “Azzi, please…”

“Please, what?” Azzi’s voice was low, almost a purr. She backed Paige against the wall, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides, sending shivers down her spine. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Paige swallowed hard, her mind racing. “We need to figure this out,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

Azzi’s eyes softened for a moment before the teasing glint returned. “Okay, let’s figure it out,” she said, her tone playful. “But maybe we start with this.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Paige’s. “We’ll talk,” she promised, her voice a soft murmur. “But right now, let’s just enjoy this.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi closed the distance, capturing Paige’s lips in a slow, tantalizing kiss. Paige's world tilted, the kiss overwhelming her senses completely as she melted into Azzi, her hands finally finding their way to Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer.

Paige nodded, her heart racing almost painfully in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s enjoy this.”

Azzi grinned, her fingers trailing lightly up and down Paige’s arms, knowing the blonde liked it a little too much. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be serious,” she teased. “I can’t help but want to mess with you a little.”

Paige felt a blush creep up her neck. “Azzi, come on…”

Azzi’s smile widened. “What? I’m just having a bit of fun. You like it, don’t you?” She leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Admit it.” Her fingers slip under the hem of Paige’s shirt, tracing patterns on her skin.

Paige’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back. “Maybe,” she admitted reluctantly.

Azzi’s laughter was soft and warm. “Thought so.” She moved even closer, her body pressing against Paige’s.

Paige tried to steady her breath. “I didn’t like seeing you with that freshman,” She confessed softly, looking away.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this is about? You were jealous?”

Paige's blush deepened. “Maybe.”

Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s neck. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s just a kid.” Her lips brushed Paige’s ear again. “Besides, I only have eyes for you.”

Paige's heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Really,” Azzi whispered, her lips trailing down to Paige’s collarbone. “You’re the one I want, Paige. Always have been.”

Paige’s breath got caught as Azzi’s lips met hers again, more passionately this time. The jealousy, the confusion, it all melted away. This was what she wanted, what she needed. And finally, they were on the same page.

Azzi, feeling the effect she had over Paige, decided to push a little further. “You know,” she murmured against Paige’s lips, “seeing you all worked up was kind of a turn-on.”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Azzi…”

“What?” Azzi’s grin was wicked at this point. “I like knowing no one else can have this kind of effect on you but me.”

Paige’s breath came faster, her pulse pounding in her ears. “You’re unbelievable.”

Azzi’s hand slid lower, making Paige gasp. “Admit it. You love it when I tease you.”

She could barely form words, her thoughts were a mush of everything. “I… I do,” she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Good girl.”

Paige was helpless to resist, surrendering completely to Azzi.

#wcbb #women's basketball #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi

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yellowloid · 1 year

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my experience at am's show (accor arena, paris, first night - 09/05/2023)

SOOOOOOO since a lot of people have done this and i want to write down as many things as i can about the concert so that i don't forget them i've decided to make this post and keep in mind i'm writing this running on four hours of sleep and a cappuccino BUT i'm currently sitting in a very pretty parisian café, chilling and waiting for my train and it's all very aesthetic i feel like the main character of a chick-flick movie. also drowning in post-concert depression but that's another story

so now that we've set the mood let's get to the actual writing bc this post isn't gonna make itself and i still have ~five hours of waiting to do and a whole lot of things to say so let's go

(also disclaimer: this is gonna be very rambly i'm so sorry i'm just emotional)

• so we got to the arena at around 6:30pm bc we had assigned seats, and entrance was a whole lot less chaotic than i'd expected (which was good) + basically the place was almost empty bc it was so early, it really only started to fill up later and it was REALLY full only by the time inhaler was halfway through their set

• can't say anything about inhaler bc i know exactly zero (0) of their songs but i think they were nice and i actually feel like diving into their music a bit now bc some songs were pretty good

• and then once inhaler was done it was showtime!!!!!!!! i felt like i could DIE!!!!!!!!

• the moment they went up on stage i felt literal butterflies......... i just couldn't believe they were real, in the flesh, like they're ACTUALLY real they exist they're REAL!!!!! and we were breathing the same air and i was just so fucking mindblown by that concept i was fr having a moment

• setlist was the usual, i didn't get cornerstone NOR perfect sense (some of my all time am favourites.......) and tbh i still haven't forgiven them (HIM) for that like wtf boys. wtf. i get why they would decide not to play perfect sense but why wouldn't they play cornerstone LITERALLY a fan favourite and a classic smh (jk i forgive them but only bc they're cute 😔)

• also i got star treatment sooooo i mean i can't really complain can i. absolute magical experience, that song

• another thing about the setlist: they kept playing little melodies in between songs and i kept getting FOOLED bc every time it felt like they were going to debut a new song (hello you......jet skis........) but no i was just clowning real hard

• fo example at some point they played this random melody and i was like wtf and then they did nothing with it and just played high so yeah they were being sooo silly and goofy (i wanted to bite them)

• also the crowd was so ???? idek how to describe it bc during some songs they were so hyped (not only the most popular ones from am or 505; they even did a mosh pit during pretty visitors which was......okay i guess not really a song to mosh to but you do you paris keep speaking your truth). but then they were so dead during the car songs.... some girls next to us literally used mirrorball and big ideas to fucking sit down and have a break and that was so offensive tbvfh. meanwhile i was there vibing and singing along to the angsty car tunes and i genuinely was like "why am i the only one that's popping my fucking pussy rn". literally this

• diwk and sculptures are THE most powerful songs ever like hearing them live is a cathartic experience fr. diwk bc of how iconic it is, sculptures bc it's just so unique and they're so fucking powerful my ass was literally shaking. sculptures as an opener after the "countdown" intro they do is just The Right Choice TM like it just makes so much sense. it was born to be an absolutely epic opener and we love to see that. and well, diwk is a classic for a reason. the whole arena lost their shit when they hit the first notes, the floor was TREMBLING it was crazy

• the arabella fuckup moment was still so !!!!!!!! when he screamed FUCK bc he messed up the lyrics i honestly didn't even realise it was a mistake at first lmao considering just a couple of days earlier there was the "but it just doesn't fucking matter" moment or whatever he said during that part (i think it was one of the german shows? or amsterdam? idk i don't remember sjfhwhs). the point is, sometimes he's just silly and changes random lyrics and it all happened so fast one could have easily believed it was on purpose nsjcnennc but that just tells you how good they are. if you're able to make even a mistake sound so good and iconic then you're just so !!!!!!!!! yknow.

• also i heard people saying he was annoyed, a bit like during one of the amsterdam gigs, mostly bc of the arabella fuckup. but that's?? so not true?? like yeah he sounded super frustrated during that bit and his yelled FUCK is proof and rewatching that moment i feel so bad for him i wanna give him a hug </3, but for the rest of the night he was in a normal mood. pretty chill if you ask me

• apart from THE star treatment moment....... someone already mentioned it here but YEAH after the song ended he just went and whispered "it's the star treatment............" with the lowest saddest most heartbroken voice and i swear i heard my heart crack and crumble in a million pieces

• (btw yes he once again opened star treatment with "i just wanted a jet ski for the moat")

• he also sounded a bit sad and lost in his own thoughts during the closing part of iwby which reminded me of the same moment at lowlands 2022 and yes my heart broke once again

• but for the rest he was in a pretty standard mood!!! not overly chatty (when is he ever jskfke), didn't interact with the crowd that much but that's routine. just your regular banter: "what a night" "what a wonderful/splendid [can't remember???] night" and then before either pretty visitors or dancefloor he introduced the song like "it's [name of the song]... get down......GET DOWN" and that was just sooooo silly. in case it wasn't clear i was foaming at the mouth the whole time

• then during dancefloor he went "dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness....AAAAAAAA"

• also he didn't really interact with the others members apart from asking the crowd to give it up for matt (cute bffs <3) and then at some point (i think during body paint) him and jamie were doing their thing. scissoring with their guitars

• after he was done scissoring with jamie he also went and hopped on matt's platform and then went towards nick too but didn't do anything lmao. i was hoping for the usual hand-around-shoulder action but no. okay you do you king

• at some point either nick or jamie fucked up a note and it was so audible and he gave them one of his Iconic Glares TM IT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY

• btw he didn't speak that much french, i was expecting much more - i'd even say he spoke less french than he did at other french gigs over the years which ???? okay lmao. he just said basic stuff, yknow, the usual "bonsoir paris", "merci", and then at some point he said "incroyable" with, i must admit, a pretty good pronunciation. tbh it was so cute and yes my heart did a lil !!!!! yeah why do you ask

• also he sounded EXACTLY like he does in recordings and studio versions which is INSANE. he has such a wide vocal capacity and his voice is sososoSO powerful, at its best fr. he sounded so damn good and perfect and he's so fucking talented and i might sob bc who gave him the fucking right

• but at the same time i see why people were saying they thought his voice sounded a bit higher - he has moments when you can hear the "ghost" of his younger voice and it's honestly so cute

• but overall it's just crazy and remarkable how much he sounds like the studio versions. there's literally no difference. none at all. he's just THAT fucking good

• and the others too they were so !!!!! honorable mention to matt bc the way that man drums is absolutely mesmerising

• and then well..... can't really ignore the elephant in the room can we. they're all so insanely attractive it's not even funny they looked so good and alex was GLOWING. i was in awe. he has such a powerful aura - commanding and serious yet with a lightness and gentleness to him that you just can't help but stare at him the whole time. he's so charming and fascinating and ARGH literally breathtaking. hypnotising. never getting over him

• long story short when they finished he was sending big smiles and kisses at the whole crowd and the screaming and applause just kept going and going and and and. the whole concert went by so fast it was so intense and i couldn't believe it was already over

• i didn't want to go i didn't want to leave i never wanted to leave i wanted to stay there and do it all over again

• so now it's been two days since the show and hours since i started drafting this post.... and i'm already back home and i MISS THEM SO MUCH. i missed them from the very moment they disappeared backstage and the post-concert depression is so real i literally feel like i left a piece of my heart in paris. i miss them i miss HIM sososo much 💔

• i'm so sorry i'm being such a dramatic bitch but that's just who i am 😔✊️

• overall the whole experience felt like a fucking fever dream and i still can't believe it really happened. it was so magical and special and they were so perfect and ugh i just really fucking love them. i love them so much and i'm so grateful i got to see them and experience first-hand something so beautiful. i didn't sob during the show (tbh i thought i would) but i might do it now bc i'm feeling so nostalgic and emotional and </3 i'm a mess i love them so much there's nothing else i can say it's just That. simply that <3

i think i'll post some pics/videos but not many bc you can hear me screaming and singing my heart out + i was shaking + mostly it looks like i recorded using a potato so skckwjcej but yeah expect me to post something. idk what but definitely something

that's about it for now, but i'll try to add more things if i remember something else along the way!! 💖

#SO SORRY THIS IS A RAMBLING MESS LMAO #BUT YEAH OF YOU GOT HERE THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR #I JUST STILL CANT BELIEVE I SAW MY BABYGIRLS #💖💖💖💖#arctic monkeys #accor arena #alex turner #matt helders #jamie cook #nick o'malley #my show #ramblings

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doodleodds · 2 years

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royalty & fairy tale au’s are meant to be mixed and u can’t change my mind

Late shuake week 2022 day 3 - Royalty AU

#shuakeweek2022 #akechi goro #kurusu akira #I JUST REALLY LOVE SLEEPING BEAUTY OK #or well. i love the idea of 'sleeping curses.' idk why! they've always fascinated me #i used to be obsessed with aurora and snow white for that reason #and so here i am! as always! projecting this interest of mine onto my favorite characters :)#also for reference because i just realized how weird it reads: goro's gonna be in the tallest tower when he's cursed #that's why akira's got a reason to climb it. so. yeah #also in case you were wondering why i said 'see you tomorrow with more art' and then proceeded not to post for.....four days:#1) work decided that i'm going to be doing more hours so i now have very little free time;#2) i decided to actually try my hand at coloring again like an IDIOT and now here we are. sigh. coloring is hard #i was trying to hard not to just overdose on comic dots again lol & it resulted in this nonsense. me and my one very textured stone wall #ANYWAY lmao even though i missed like. every single day of akeshu week so far i'm still gonna be doing the prompts #just at my own pace! so. hopefully expect more art. soon. ish. hopefully not with another uhhh 2 month gap like last year lol #also quick fun fact since you made it this far in my tags! that second page originally wasn't supposed to be there!#i drew sleeping goro just cause i could and i was just gonna stick him under a read more but then i got attached lmao #and now he's in the main post! :D yayyyyyy goro #ANYWAY that was super long. thanks for reading & i hope u have a lovely day!!!!

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afaramir · 4 months

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Your ™ (aside from faramir obv) is how unhinged you are about denethor AND having the most correct takes abt him🧡. Oh and also oranges maybe

AAAA...THANK YOU ??? THIS KNOCKED ME FLAT like for real i cannot express how much ive been thinking about this ask all day. like i was in the grocery store thinking about it. i cant decide if it's funnier if you've been here since i was 19 and a hater and watched me have my dramatic change of heart in real time or if youre new here and don't know my tragic backstory. TO ME it's hilarious to be assigned denethor girl bc like teenage me is having a heart attack but i bear the badge with pride nevertheless <3333 and thats what we call character growth!

pj had totally got me with the mad-and-vindictive-with-despair denethor gambit for years and years but literally i started working on the faramir goes to rivendell au and thought for about two seconds about how complex both faramir and boromir's relationships with their father are and how the film changes genuinely weaken all of their characters so much and did a total 180 degree turn on a dime. by doing denethor dirty i would automatically be doing faramir dirty and then i started thinking and went hang on a second he is so complex and interesting actually. like i can't emphasize how much that was the exact logic that allowed me to achieve this development.

i mean okay LISTEN TO ME oh my GOD denethor IS a good leader there's a reason why gondor stood so long alone against the enemy and he NEARLY fucking beat SAURON in 30 years worth of head-to-head knock-down-drag-out psychic stalemate warfare and he only falls into despair when he loses both of his sons. you don't need to like him to respect the achievement!

i almost put a read more here but fuck it denethorposting on main. hit j on your keyboard or do a big scroll if youre sick of me LOL

i am very well known for going totally feral over duty vs love dynamics and that is literally what is going on between denethor and his sons. he cannot be their father and their commander at the same time and they are at war!!! being their commander has to win out above all else!!! whether any of them like it or not!!! do you know what ruthlessness means do you understand that duty wins this one.

do u guys understand that denethor and faramir are a father and son who love each other above else and yet do not like each other at all. there was a schism somewhere there along the line and love without bitterness and political sniping and ideological misalignment is a DISTANT MEMORY. No Of Course He Shouldn't Have Said He Wished Faramir And Boromir's Places Exchanged Jesus Christ No Son Should Have To Hear That From Their Father But Girl Sometimes When You're Grieving You Say Stupid Shit That You Shouldn't Have. doesn't mean you should've said it but [pippin voice] we can understand poor denethor a bit better, huh?

its just so interesting to me to think about faramir and denethor's relationship from a standpoint of like. ok listen good stewards that are not good fathers and dutiful sons who will not compromise their moral compasses for love. i don't like you and i agree with approximately 1% of everything you've said ever and your expectations of me have always been unreasonably high even when i was a child but you also are the only person who could ever understand the terrifying psychic powers that just live inside my brain and you are probably the incarnation of lordly dignity and power that i have had and i have wanted to emulate all my life and i still have the instinct to ask for your approval even if i'm going to hate what you're going to say. and when i'm dying i will call out for you. and i don't like you and your moral compass is going to get you and me and everyone in our city killed and you haven't listened to a single thing i've said since you were fourteen and i fucking hate that you're listening to and trusting the fucking wizard over me but you are my best captain and you are everything that i wished i could've been without the war and you'll never understand that that's why i pushed you so hard i just wanted you to live. and if you couldn't live at least we could die together. LISTEN i am a faramir girl until the death you all KNOW THIS BUT THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE- [i am forcibly yanked offstage]

#from the inbox #Anonymous #THANK YOU YOU ARE AN ANGEL!!! I LOVE YOU!!!#sorry for how unhinged this answer got ive been drinking #my friday night: totally sober sitting quietly filing my taxes. my saturday night: wine drunk denethor ranting. i am an adult #you: ur brand is being unhinged about this specific topic. me tasked with talking about that topic: sorry for being unhinged. hilarious #idk like oh my god yeah the transgender allegory of 'parent insisting their child is dead while people cry out that they're still living'#fucks crazy. i fucking love that reading. but im tired of the madman-idiot-caricature lack of textually-referenced nuance out here!#bitch king faramir and complex noble lord denethor are actually concepts that are holding hands. To Me.#also YES!!! ORANGES!!! i have an orange tattoo lol i love you i'm glad i exist. there is secret lore but i think if i don't stop talking no #everyone who follows me will explode me with their minds #i am still taking trademark asks if anyone at all has read this far LOL #long post #SORRY AGAIN LMAOOO #denethor anon #denethorposting

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theodore-sallis · 1 year

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“The Gift of Death,” Man-Thing (Vol. 1/1974), #8.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler and Inker: Mike Ploog; Colorist: Petra Goldberg; Letterer: Artie Simek

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Man-Thing vol. 1 #Man-Thing 1974 #Man-Thing #Ted Sallis #Cover Gallery #oy…it has been….far too long since I’ve posted here #and I can’t thank those of you who stuck around enough 💚🖤#started a new job which took a lot out of me and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little burnt out #after posting my way through my Moon Knight and Scarlet Spider read throughs #but gosh!!! It’s gotten to the point where I miss pulpy comics again #and this dear mossy friend of course has lived rent free in my mind for months #and while I know a bit better now than to make promises I really do intend to keep up this blog #it’s just the pacing I can’t really promise at this point alsjdhsk #so yeah thanks again y’all!#anyway…what a cover to come back on hahaha #and it’s a real corker of a Man-Thing comic #it’s got everything: questionable Florida-based folk lore #even more questionable uses of science #those who would try to unfairly profit off of science losing what little humanity they have and then catching on fire #fun stuff #also real telling that the cover artist couldn’t be bovvered to get the main female character’s hair color right #even though she was in the previous comic too #aaaaaah the 70’s

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lightsoutletsgo · 3 months

Text

bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined, “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was.

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams.

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’. “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.”

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand.

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?”

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed.

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet. A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste!

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head,

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it. “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver.

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone.

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times.

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely.

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him,

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number.

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

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You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.”

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit.

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up.

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!”

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.”

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration.

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait.

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.”

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

#mimi.writes #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 oneshot

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watercolor-hearts · 11 months

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#five stories done five left #and i always forget about that one request i got in comment and not in ask #insane how much i've written so far this summer #it might not be a lot for some writers here but i usually struggle a lot with writing because of motivation problems etc #but this ask thing helps a lot with it because this way i know that in most cases someone's waiting for the story and wants to read it #and it makes me want to write it #while when i just write the stories i plan and think about a lot it's a bit more difficult because there's no exact person that's waiting #for it to read #and while i like to write for myself it also makes me happy that there are people who read my stories #i appreciate the support because i know i'm not that good but seeing that people actually read my things and reblog and kudos them makes me #want to write more and be better at it #so yeah thank you for everyone ❤#my useless posts #my writing

0 notes

osaemu · 6 months

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be.

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant.

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace.

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you.

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?”

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read.

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once.

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now.

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time.

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door.

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie.

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches.

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door.

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes.

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

6K notes · View notes

mostly-imagines · 1 month

Text

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all.

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative.

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water.

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury.

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat.

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?”

You peek your head out of the bathroom door.

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes.

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand.

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his.

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on.

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.”

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not.

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.”

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.”

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse.

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?”

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot.

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?”

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over.

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly.

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles.

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no.

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch.

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated.

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar.

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.”

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.”

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second.

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over.

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?”

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.”

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.”

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing.

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself.

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces.

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.”

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.”

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it.

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at.

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?”

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down.

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut.

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?”

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position.

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly.

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.

Alright, one step at a time.

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astonmartinii · 7 months

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big reputation part two | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

a new season dawns but that doesn't mean we don't have a map to our buried hatchets

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,221,783 others

charles_leclerc: ferrari has been home for as long as i can remember, even before i joined the academy, the dream of driving for ferrari gave me a purpose. i am heartbroken it hasn't worked out, but formula one is, at the end of the day, a selfish sport and i have to think about my real goal here: to win a championship. ferrari has an amazing history, but that is what it is history. in the four years i have been here i haven't seen the drive and ambition to be as ruthless and as complete as they were with michael and with kimi. therefore i have to leave. it hurts me to leave the tifosi, but know you're always in my heart and i will always hold dear your support. grazie regazzi essere ferrari ❤️

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user3: i knew it was coming but HOLY FUCK CHARLIE COME HOME

user4: tifosi lecfosi YES SIR

user5: for real i'm down for him not that clown team

yourusername: i'm proud of you charlie, i knew how much this took. but you have to put yourself first at some point. i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you too. i'm sorry i can't stop crying

yourusername: no i love that you are so passionate. it's been a long season and you're finally allowed to let it all out

charles_leclerc: can we go to a rage room?

yourusername: FUCK YEA

maxverstappen1: pretty please may i join. i have a lot of rage. call it teammate bonding?

charles_leclerc: give me a tow in bahrain quali?

maxverstappen1: fine (NO ONE SCREENSHOT THIS OR HOLD ME TO IT)

yourusername: at least this one i don't mind having to third wheel us

user6: the SHADE that's mother right there

user7: trying to stay insanely normal over the fact that max, charles and y/n are besties

pierregasly: congrats calmar, HOWEVER, i though i was your favourite third wheel 🥰

yourusername: but you bring kika ??? how can you third wheel if kika is there? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT?

charles_leclerc: thank you pear i love you brother

user8: i love how this is some super sentimental post and y/n is asking pierre if he can count i hope they never change

landonorris: max as fave third wheel ??? @alexalbon @georgerussll63 twitch quartet erasure

yourusername: womp womp

alexalbon: WOMP WOMP?

charles_leclerc: guys i'm sad about leaving my dream team where is the compassion?

georgerussell63: yeah boo hoo there are bigger things at play here I DID NOT SIT THROUGH YOUR TEN HOUR MELTDOWN ON AN APPROPRIATE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY GIFT NOT TO BE TOP THIRD WHEEL

yourusername: you fools really will argue about anything huh

landonorris: this is the sanctity of our friendship on the line here

user9: the grid was really like YOU might be sad about leave ferrari but we ain't

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,421,455 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: holibobs with sharlie

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user10: i love as soon as the season finishes charles becomes THEE instagram boyf

user11: j.peg account? no. just taking photos of y/n? YES.

charles_leclerc: i have an eye for beauty

yourusername: heheheheheheehehehehehee

alexalbon: so he can use a camera? why does he only take 0.5s of me?

yourusername: the best angle for your big ol dome

alexalbon: EXCUSE ME ?

yourusername: yeah sorry that was a bit far

alexalbon: it's like you got off the ferrari leash and now we all have to suffer

yourusername: WELP

charles_leclerc: ma belle, the only one i'll actually listen to and put sun cream on

yourusername: yes you will because we...

charles_leclerc: put spf on everyday !!

yourusername: yes! because...

charles_leclerc: we're scared of aging?

yourusername: no?

charles_leclerc: we want to be safe 👍

maxverstappen1: you guys done with the kindergarten reading lessons?

yourusername: have you seen lobster leclerc? this kind of work needed to be done

user12: lobster leclerc? goodbye, goodbye, goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky

user13: see now i'm confused cause why are some papers saying that they're breaking up? or that charles is embarrassed by the way y/n acts?

user14: bestie we've been through this DON'T TRUST THOSE HOES - TRUST THESE HOES

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user15: unless i see it from the horse's mouth I WILL NEVER BELIEVE THEY'VE BROKEN UP

redbullracing

liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 882,339 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: charles the qualifying king takes his first pole position for red bull in his first race and is joined by max for a front row lockout

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user18: UNWELL

user19: suck on that ferrari xoxo

user20: *rubs eyes* is that... max being happy to be challenged by a teammate ???

user21: winning three championships really takes the heat off huh

yourusername: THAT'S MY MAN YALL

charles_leclerc: love you baby

yourusername: love you too darling

maxverstappen1: love you three 🫶

yourusername: this is not the problem i thought we'd have when coming to red bull

maxverstappen1: my gf can't make most of the races so you WILL deal with me

user22: max being clingy to charles and y/n is so fucking funny to me

user23: sainz not making it out of q1? shwartzman only making it to q2 but still out qualifying carlos? charles looking sexy in blue? EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST CHARLES LECLERC SHALL FALL

christianhorner: mega job boys, let's keep our eyes on tomorrow

maxverstappen1: tell them they have to let me come to dinner with them

christianhorner: isn't this the exact reason we rehired daniel

charles_leclerc: PLEASE MAKE DANIEL COME TO THE NEXT RACE

maxverstappen1: erm rude

charles_leclerc: i'm sorry i'm not used to a teammate that actually wants to be friends for real

yourusername: EXCEPT SEB WE LOVE SEB

yourusername: but for real max emilian i am monitoring the dutch papers... be very careful

user24: healthy teammate relationships (for now) ??? is this what heaven is like

user25: are you telling me that if max doesn't get the lead in the first lap he might actually HELP charles .... a certain spanish individual could never

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,778,451 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: wow !! a 1 - 2 in our first race i couldn't be happier. this car is a dream to drive and i'm so grateful to red bull for being so welcoming. teamwork makes the dream work

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user26: tears in my eyes

user27: okay i understand both of them are like with their forever partners but lestappen is also real TWO THINGS CAN EXIST AT ONCE

yourusername: SHARLIE OMG YOU TALENTED, TALENTED KING

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: crying sesh. sharlie's drivers room @ 8. bring your own alcohol and tissues

charles_leclerc: just to make sure everyone knows THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS

landonorris: SAP ALERT GET IT TOGETHER MAN

yourusername: i know lando no-wins ain't talking rn 🤨

charles_leclerc: you walked into that one buddy

landonorris: just because i'm friends with carlos doesn't mean you have to come after me like him ...

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yourusername: bold... real bold. you're lucky i'm doing meditation and yoga (and that i want to make a good impression on christian)

alexalbon: lando do NOT look at the text she just sent your your ego CANNOT take it

user28: no no no do spill... i need the ammo if he ever takes out my fave

user29: true i need it for the next time either of the ugly twins at ferrari open their gobs

oscarpiastri: it was brutal. they need to get y/n to host the reading challenge on drag race

yourusername: oscar knows drag race?

oscarpiastri: i might be an athlete but i'm not completely uncultured

maxverstappen1: if we're talking being cultured... GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST RED BULL PARTY

yourusername: born ready my university years singlehandedly financed your 'catering budget'

charles_leclerc: no really i think she's actually addicted to the tropical one

maxverstappen1: are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT WAS YOU WHO DRANK ALL OF THEM

yourusername: and what?

maxverstappen1: idk i'm still kinda scared of you

user30: the way charles deflected the questions about fred and sainz ? WE'RE FREEEEEEEEE

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,311,723 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i wanna be your end game <3

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user32: you guys better be end game or like you're paying for my therapy

user33: i respect her dedication to go to every race, make ferrari staff tremble in fear and pull LOOKS

charles_leclerc: i want to be your first string

yourusername: what if we just called taylor up?

charles_leclerc: you know here you call her i'm nervous

yourusername: @taylorswift paris night one, lover and this is me trying ft. charles on the piano?

taylorswift: sure thing

charles_leclerc: why was that so easy?

yourusername: better get practising baby

charles_leclerc: OH GOD

user34: how did we get red bull charles and a taylor collab in one year?

user35: i guess we used up charles' good luck from the last four years SORRY CHARLES

charles_leclerc: i guess you're forgiven...

maxverstappen1: so could you like tell me what you'd call me if i hypothetically fucked charles over... i'm not gonna but like i need to mentally prepare myself to hear it

yourusername: i have faith in you so i haven't thought that far ahead

maxverstappen1: can you please not be too mean i can't take it

charles_leclerc: you wanna come to therapy with me buddy?

maxverstappen1: i think i might

yourusername: when we entered the reputation era i did not think it would lead to taking max verstappen to therapy

maxverstappen1: and taylor swift?

yourusername: ... and taylor swift

user36: this is all very cute and all but can we have mean y/n back

user37: when will yall learn that reputation is a love album and y/n and charles are just loving each other freely

user38: but mean y/n did teach someone a lesson in not spreading false rumours cause them tabloids have been QUIET

f1tea

liked by user43, user44 and 7,233 others

f1tea: carlos sainz was caught liking these tweets about charles leclerc and y/n y/ln, what do you think?

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user45: put me in the ring with carlos i am being so serious

user46: okay for a while i was on the fence about y/n and how intense she was being but like seeing this shit and realising it was probably what was being said in the garage she needed to do more

user47: for real if someone said that about my boyfriend i'd be in prison

user48: so charles and y/n were under contract to not say a word out of line about ferrari or anything to do with ferrari and this guy is out here liking this

user49: call me a conspiracy theorist but this was his public account... he meant for people to find it and wants people to know this stuff

user50: this is why he DNFed in the first race KARMA

user51: maybe this is why he's always the one with relationship issues bro clearly has no loyalty

user52: charles has never said anything about him even now and y/n only said something in retaliation

user53: fuck peace and love y/n needs to give this man hell

user54: read him for filth

user55: bro needs to keep his twitter fingers to himself and focus on not being in the wall ❤️

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,311,885 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: this is why we can't have nice things, darling

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user56: this is the most response we'll ever get from charles i fear

user57: allow me to elaborate: this is why we can't have nice things by taylor swift is about 'forgiving' the people who wronged you but she literally says "and here's to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do... i can't even say it with a straight face" so basically charles doesn't forgive carlos or fred. and it specifically shouts out her family and friends and lover for sticking with her which is what charles' family, friends and y/n have done

liked by charles_leclerc

user58: thank you for service

yourusername: i'm reading what they call you lately (it says you're a race winner and a title contender)

charles_leclerc: got a taste of the celebrations and can't get enough

maxverstappen1: KEEP IT PG THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE

charles_leclerc: you're older than me

yourusername: all we said were celebrations, if anything you have the dirty mind 🤨

maxverstappen1: i am usually in the room next to you, i hope this helps

charles_leclerc: our bad <3

maxverstappen1: you don't care do you?

yourusername: not really no. when we get to the same amount of wins as you maybe it'll wear off

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

user58: is this an entertaining title fight but without the bad blood?

user59: and nowhere near ferrari? bless

alexalbon: i hate that i understand all these references

yourusername: lily trained you well

lilymunhe: like a drill sergeant

yourusername: as you should

sebastianvettel: proud of you charlie, i'm glad you're not wasting your talent

charles_leclerc: i love you seb, i'm sorry it took so long

sebastianvettel: make sure you win here, we can be ferrari failures together

yourusername: *ferrari failed you

sebastianvettel: i knew there was a reason i liked you

fin.

note: SOZ. so like i am still working on requests but that radio message FUCKED ME UP. so this had to happen. glad my queen girls (max and charles) did well today, hope you enjoyed !!!

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc social media au

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