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#everyone else is right and I am always not
mywritersmind · 1 day
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TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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cosmerelists · 2 days
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Lift Hands Out Nicknames
As requested by @onlymollygibson :)
Lift calls Dalinar "Tightbutt," Nale "Darkness," and Wyndle "Voidbringer" -- she seems to assign nicknames based on her personal impression of a guy (gender neutral). So if Lift assigned nicknames to other characters, what might those nicknames be?
Lift: Attention, everyone! I have decided to assign ALL of you nicknames.
Dalinar: Uh, Lift? This is actually a very important strategy meeting about--
Lift: Hush, Tightbutt!
Navani: [covers her mouth quickly to hold in a laugh]
Lift (turning dramatically toward Navani): And as for you!
Lift: In my head, I WAS calling you Mrs. Tightbutt, but I heard plenty of people talkin' during the invasion.
Lift: You are now The Mad Scientist.
Navani: With the "The"?
Lift: With the "The."
Lift: That's how you know you've storming made it.
Lift: (points at Kaladin) You're Longlegs.
Lift: Because you are very tall.
Kaladin: ...
Shallan: I am literally always saying that!
Lift: Thank you for your contribution! You are Strawberry.
Shallan: Because of my...hair?
Lift: Yes.
Lift: And you also have a general "jam-loving" aura about you.
Shallan: ...That's a strange thing to be able to tell at a glance.
Lift: Is it though?
Adolin: Do me! Do me!
Lift: Can do, Horse Girl.
Adolin (nodding sagely): It feels right.
Lift: Venli ain't here, but for the record, I call her Freedom.
Lift: Not allowed to talk about why.
Lift: You! (Points at Szeth, who was barely visible in the corner)
Lift: You're Shadows and your sword is Munchies.
Nightblood: Yessssss I get a nickname!!
Szeth: I know you are wise, small one, but....why?
Lift: You're always following someone else around like their shadow. You like to be in the shadow. You're dark but not dark like Darkness is dark.
Lift: It's stormin' layered.
Szeth: I had no reservations about your designation for me.
Szeth: I was more questioning Munchies.
Lift: She likes to eat. What can I say?
Lift: [To Renarin] You're Four-Eyes.
Renarin: ...Because of my...glasses? That I...no longer wear?
Lift: What? No!
Lift: Because you can see the present, the past, the future, and the truth. That's four things!
Renarin: Oh...that's, uh, actually very deep.
Lift: I don't only look at butts.
Lift: By the way, Tightbutt--the fact that you still have the best butt in the room remains highly suspicious.
Dalinar: ...
Dalinar: Can we get back to our meeting now?
Lift (shrugs): I was never stopping you.
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weepingtalecowboy · 3 days
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Ghost Dreamwalker wind au
Fanfic prompt: Considering that wind got his ability to see ghosts in a dream
What if in order to see ghosts in real life he has developed the method of livid-sleepwalking (which essentially means that the person has their eyes open and a bit of processing ability but still is functionally asleep and does extra weird shit)
And the chain got the “joy” to experience wind at his most deranged
Like Time is sleeping together with Malon when suddenly something scratches the door from outside
Opens it up and then wind just wakes him up with shit like :
“It’s... under the river, where the stars can’t swim,’
‘You have to burn the red thread before it knots, or the moon will forget to rise
He wants his face back and I am afraid…umh..no good”
Then before time even gets the chance to process the words he just heard wind is already between both of them and not waking back up
He knew nothing about the subject next day
But then it just kept happening with everyone while Wind was (they know now) sleepwalking
Legend gets his lost lovers entire back story from Wind (and he is also have a crisis over it because how the hell did wind get Marin’s name right her dad's name and why the hell does he know about the whale god)
Wild gets “HIS” backstory from Wind while Carrying him on his back and not being capable of giving him to someone else
He hasn’t slept well that night
Wind always looks like a doll when he is busy with terrorizing everyone and it makes him more cryptic
When four hears wind continuously tell people that his shadow is kinda gone because of his mirror
He was starting to think that maybe
Just maybe wind isn’t just making stuff up while only half lucid
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itneverendshere · 3 days
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invisible string - r.c series (three) (+18)
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pairing: pogue!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader warnings: angst; smut; fluff. part one; part two
Rafe rarely ever fought with you. 
Sure, he’d thrown his weight around with just about everyone else, but with you?
He’d dropped the whole tough-guy bullshit months ago. Hell, he’d even cried in front of you, ugly sobbing and all. He didn’t let himself be that vulnerable with anyone else, but today... today he felt like his skin was too tight and he was two seconds away from losing it.
He didn’t understand why you were pushing so hard. You kept going, saying the same things over and over, and he was trying so damn hard to stay calm, but every word you said just felt like gasoline on a fire.
He wasn’t even mad at you, not really.
He was mad at everything else—at himself, at how nothing ever seemed to go right, at how he always felt one wrong move away from everything falling apart. And now you wanted to talk about it again, like you didn’t see how close he was to just snapping.
It felt like you didn’t get it. No matter how many times you two talked about it, you still thought there was some perfect world where you could just be together out in the open, like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal. A huge fucking deal.
He leaned against the wall of the shed, arms crossed, just watching you. You looked so damn hopeful like he was really about to show up to your graduation party and stand next to you like some lost puppy. You had this big party planned at your place. Parents, family, all your Kook friends. The whole scene. And you wanted him there. Like your parents weren’t gonna lose their minds if they saw him anywhere near you.
He could practically see your dad’s face already, that look of disappointment or disgust or whatever the hell he’d call it.
Rafe wasn’t dumb. He knew his place around here.
And sure, you knew the basics too: you were heading off to college soon, your life was on this perfect, shiny path, and his...well, his was a whole mess in comparison. But it was like you couldn’t see the bigger picture. Or maybe you just didn’t want to.
You acted like everything between you two would stay the same, like you could just waltz into your new life with him still in it, like he could just follow you there. But Rafe knew better. You were leaving in four months, and that thought sat heavy in his chest every time he was around you now.
And here you were talking about the party again, like his presence there wouldn’t blow up everything.
He wanted to be there for you, more than anything, but not like that. Not surrounded by your perfect little world while he felt like an outsider, waiting for someone to call him out. It was like you didn’t even see the bomb that was about to go off if he stepped foot into your life like that.
“Are you listening to me?”
He ran a hand down his face, trying to hold onto whatever thread of control he had left. “I am listenin',” he muttered, though his voice came out harder than he meant.
“No, you’re not,” you said, a little firmer this time. "You’re shutting down again, like you always do when I bring this up."
He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want this to turn into some big blow-up. But damn, why couldn’t you just drop it for once? Why did you always have to dig, always push when he was hanging by a thread?
“Are coming tonight or not?” you asked for the millionth time, like it was no big deal. Just a party. “It’s nothing crazy.”
He let out a short laugh, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. Yeah, right. “Like your dad’s not gonna lose his shit the second he sees me?”
“Rafe—” you started, but he already knew where this was going. Same conversation, different day.
You were standin’ there, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes and it killed him. You were always calm, always trying to make sense of shit when sometimes there just wasn’t any sense to be made.
And right now, he didn’t have the patience for it.
He cut you off. “You really think it’s that easy? You think I can just show up, grab a drink, and blend in with your crowd like we’re in some damn movie? Tell everyone how ‘m your homeless boyfriend?”
You looked frustrated like you couldn’t wrap your head around why this was such a big deal. He wished you could see it from his side, but how could you? You weren’t a pogue.
You didn’t know what it was like being the guy no one wanted around anymore. Hell, he barely had anywhere to crash before you helped him out. And now, what? He was supposed to show up to your graduation party and pretend like he belonged?
He was getting worked up now. He knew it. But damn, how was he supposed to just walk into that house, standing next to you while everyone whispered about how he would be dragging you down?
“It’s my party,” you said, taking a step closer. “I don’t care what they think. I want you there.”
He clenched his jaw and looked away. You didn’t get it. This wasn’t just about your daddy or your friends or even you. It’s about the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he was always gonna be that guy they look at sideways like he wasn’t worth a dam.
“Yeah? And what happens when they start askin’ questions?” He asked, voice low, trying to keep the edge out of it. “When they find out we’ve been sneakin’ around for months? You think they’ll just be cool with that? You wanna throw all that away, for me?”
Your face tightened up, hurt showing in your eyes, and damn if that didn’t make his chest twist up inside. He hated seeing you like that.
“I’m just tired of pretending like I’m ashamed of you.”
That one hit hard, harder than he expected.
He dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like he was about to lose it. “M’ not doing this to hurt you,” he muttered, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.”
He was protecting this.
You shook your head like you didn’t believe him. “No, you’re doing this ‘cause you think you’re protecting me from something that doesn’t even matter. None of this—my parents, the Kook bullshit—none of it matters to me.”
You didn’t curse often, but when you did, he knew you were upset. Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, looking down at his boots, the ones you’d bought him a month ago, kicking at some dirt on the ground. He hated this. Hated how you made it seem so simple. Like you could just snap your fingers, and everything would fall into place.
"Doesn't matter to you," he muttered, shaking his head. "But it matters to them. It matters to the people you gotta see every day. Your parents, your friends... hell, half the damn island. You think they won’t care? That they won’t look at you different if they see you with me?"
You were right there in front of him now, reaching out to touch his arm, but he tensed up, not ready for the comfort. Not when his head was a mess.
“I don’t care what they think. Why do you?"
That question. That damn question. It was always the same one, and he never had a good answer for it. He didn’t care what they thought, not about him.
But you? You deserved better. And even if you didn’t see it that way, he did.
“I care ‘cause you’re... you’re better than all that, alright?" His voice was gruff, trying to keep from saying too much, but it was getting harder. "You got your whole future lined up, you’re set. College, whatever the hell you wanna do. And then there's me, dragging you down with all my bullshit. You deserve—"
“I deserve to make my own choices,” you cut in, stepping even closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your skin, hear the frustration under your breath. “And I choose you. I don’t care about any of that other stuff. I want you there tonight. With me.”
The way you said it, it almost made him want to believe it. Almost.
Rafe clenched his jaw, eyes drifting up to meet yours. You really believed it, didn’t you? That this could work. That you two could just show up, be together, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone thought. Part of him wanted to grab onto that same hope, hold it tight, and say “fuck it” to everything else.
But the other part—the part that had seen how the world worked, how Kooks looked down on Pogues like him—knew better.
"Just 'cause you want it, doesn’t makes it real.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Like we can just walk in there and no one’s gonna give a shit that you’re standing next to me.”
You crossed your arms now, jaw set in that stubborn way that usually meant you weren’t backing down. “I don’t care anymore, Rafe. I’m tired of living by their rules. This is my life."
He felt a flare of anger burn in his chest. Not at you, but at the situation. At the fact that he couldn’t just be the guy you wanted him to be, the guy who could walk into that party and not feel like he was sticking out like a sore thumb.
“Yeah?” he snapped back, voice rough. “And what about next time, huh? What about the next party or when your dad finds out and says you’re not allowed to see me anymore. What then?”
You stared at him, eyes hard, like you were daring him to say more, but there was something else in your expression, something that made his throat tighten. "You’re just looking for an excuse," you said quietly. "You’re scared."
Maybe you were right. Maybe he was scared.
Scared that if he let himself believe this could work, he’d end up losing you in the end anyway. Scared that the moment you really saw how different your lives were, you’d leave, and he’d be the one standing there, broken.
“Can’t you just drop it?”
“You’re being mean.”
He wasn’t trying to hurt you—not really. But he didn’t know how else to get through your head, how to make you see what he saw.
“So what if I am. Maybe I need to be. You’re not listening to me.”
You didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, and that just pissed him off more. You should be mad. You should hate him for not just going along with this, for making it all so damn hard. But there you were, looking at him like you still believed in him. Like he was worth it. And fuck, that was the hardest part.
Your eyes were glassy, and he could see it—the hurt. The way you blinked fast, your lips pressed tight, like you were holding it all in, it killed him.
“You’re pushing me away,” you said, voice shaky as hell. “And I don’t get it. You’re actin’ like I’d be better off without you.”
He clenched his fists, feeling that familiar burn of frustration flare up. He didn’t want to yell at you.
Hell, he never wanted to make you cry, but you didn’t get it. Part of him wanted to shake you, make you see things the way he saw them. The other part? The part that hurt every time you talked about leaving, about how you had this whole future ahead of you... that part just wanted to pull you in and hold on tight.
He laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Yeah? Well, someone needs to. 'Cause you’re blind if you think this ends with us living happily ever after.”
You flinched, like his words had hit you straight in the chest. And then, the tears came, and he couldn’t stop them this time. You wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but he’d already done the damage.
He was falling apart right in front of you, and he hated that you had to see it. Hated that you were the only person who ever saw him like this.
He hated himself for saying it, but he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop the truth from comin’ out, no matter how much it hurt. “You’re leavin’ in four months, and I’m still here. Still... me. And I’m not draggin’ you down with all my crap. You deserve better than that.”
You reached out, grabbing his arm, and the way you touched him made somethin’ inside him crack. “I don’t want better, Rafe. I want you.”
“Yeah?” He barked out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “And what happens when you’re gone? When you’re off at college, livin’ your life, and I’m still here, stuck in this place? You think this... whatever this is, is gonna last?”
Your voice broke a little when you spoke again. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m doin’ it ‘cause I care about you,” he said, voice dropping low, rough around the edges. “More than anything. But you... you got a future. You got everythin’ ahead of you. And me? I ain’t got nothin’ but a one-way ticket to nowhere.”
You were cryin’ now, and that damn near killed him. You never cried, not like this. “That’s not true. Why can’t you see that? I’m not leaving you behind.”
Rafe finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and he could see it—could see how much you meant it.
And damn, he wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were right. But he’d been around long enough to know how this world worked, and it never worked out for guys like him.
“I can’t be the one to ruin your life,” he said, stepping back, pulling away from your touch even though it felt like it was tearing him apart to do it. “I won’t.”
“Rafe,” you whispered, voice broken and pleading, but he shook his head.
“Just... let it go,” he muttered, turning his back to you. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle seeing you hurt, knowing it was his fault. Knowing he was the reason your heart was breaking.
"Fine," you choked out, voice only just holding steady. "If you don’t want me there, then I’ll stop trying.”
You turned on your heel, storming off, but not before he saw your shoulders shake. 
Fuck.
That shit crushed him, but still, he didn’t move.
Just stood there, fists clenched, staring at the ground while you walked away from him. He knew he’d ruin the best thing that ever happened to him, he just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. He wanted to go after you, and say something to make it right, but what was the point? 
He always fucked it up somehow.
He leaned his head back against the shed, staring up at the sky, feeling like an absolute waste of space.
You had everything going for you—family, friends, a future—and what the hell did he have? Nothing but bad luck and a reputation that dragged behind him like a chain. He didn’t even know why you bothered with him sometimes. You were too good, too kind.
And he? He was the definition of a screw-up. Always saying the wrong thing, always ruining the good moments before they even had a chance to get started.
He slid down the wall until he was sitting in the dirt, head in his hands, wishing he could just be different. Wishing he didn’t care so much about what your dad thought or how your friends would whisper when you weren’t around. He wished he could just be the guy you saw, the guy you believed in.
Hours later, the party at your place was in full swing, and he knew you were there, trying to have a good time without him. He hadn’t shown up, of course. Just like he said he wouldn’t. Rafe stayed back, back in that stupid abandoned house, trying to tell himself this was for the best. 
He could hear the distant sound of music coming from your house, the laughter of your Kook friends echoing through the night air. It was the kind of party he never really belonged at—one where everyone showed up in their clean-cut clothes, fresh haircuts, and fancy cars. The kind of life he never had a shot at, not really. And here he was, stuck in the dirt, hands covered in grime, still trying to figure out why the hell you kept fighting for him.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew this was what was supposed to happen. You deserved to be there, with your people, not hanging around with someone like him. You’d be fine without him weighing you down. Hell, you’d probably be better off in the long run. He’d hurt you. He knew it. Saw it clear as day when you walked off, tears in your eyes, but he didn’t go after you. He didn’t know how.
But then his phone buzzed—the phone you had gotten him—and he looked down to see your name flashing on the screen. He stared at it for a second, his gut twisting, then picked up.
“Yeah?”
All he could hear on the other end was you crying. That soft, broken cry made his chest feel like it was caving in.
“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, standing up straighter. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer right away, just kept crying, and that was worse than anything you could’ve said. His heart was pummeling to the ground, and he was already on his feet, ready to head over before you even asked.
“Sweetheart,” he tried again, trying to keep himself from sounding as panicked as he felt. “What happened? Talk to me.”
You sniffled hard, trying to talk through the sobs. “Rafe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your voice all shaky and broken.
He couldn’t stand to hear you like that, not when he knew it was his fault. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, feeling like a total jackass.
“Stop crying, darlin’,” he muttered, voice softer now. “I hate when you cry.”
“I’m just so upset,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “I didn’t want us to fight like that. I just miss you.”
Rafe clenched his jaw, feeling like shit. He could hear the party still going in the background, but all you wanted was him. He knew that, but somehow he’d still managed to mess everything up.
“Where are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“My room,” you muttered, “I couldn’t stay down there. I feel so stupid.”
His heart twisted, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was throwing on his jacket, heading out.
“I’m coming’ over,” he said, his voice firm.
“What?” you sounded surprised. “Rafe, you don’t have to—”
“I’m coming’,” he interrupted you, his voice low but serious. “Stay there. I’ll be there in a few.”
Twenty minutes later, he was sneaking around the side of your house, ducking behind bushes to avoid being seen. The party was still going, people everywhere, but all he cared about was getting to your window. He knew how to sneak into your room like the back of his hand by now. Too many months of practice.
He climbed through, landing quiet as a mouse, and saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at your hands. Your eyes were red from crying, and he felt that familiar guilt twisting in his gut.
When you looked up and saw him, you stood fast, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there.
Before he could say anything, you were in his arms, holding onto him tight, like you were scared he might disappear. Rafe held you, his chin resting on top of your head as you pressed into him, your fingers clutching at the back of his jacket like you didn’t want to let go. He knew he'd screwed up. He always did. But when you were there, clutching him like he was the only thing that mattered, it made him question everything he'd told himself.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face buried in his chest, your body shakin’ from the sobs.
Rafe wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, like he was trying to make up for every shitty thing he’d said. “You don’t gotta apologize, alrigh’?” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “This one’s on me.”
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still in your eyes, and damn if it didn’t make him want to punch himself.
“I don’t care about the party or the people,” you practically whimpered, “I just want you, Rafe.”
He stared down at you, feeling’ that knot in his throat. He didn’t deserve you. He never had. But here you were, saying you wanted him anyway.
“I’m sorry for being a dick,” He exhaled, “I just... I don’t know how to do this right. I’m scared I’m just gonna hurt you.”
You shook your head, your hands resting on his chest. “You don’t have to protect me. I just want you to let me in.”
He swallowed hard. You were all he wanted, but damn if it didn’t scare the hell out of him sometimes.
Still, he wasn’t about to lose you. Not like this.
The warmth of you against him, the way you fit so perfectly into his chest—it made him feel like he might just be okay. Like maybe, for once, things didn’t have to be so damn complicated.
But that didn’t mean the doubts were gone. He pulled back just a little, enough to see your face, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.
 “You know I’m not good at this, right?” His voice was low, rough, like he was almost ashamed to say it. “I don’t wanna screw things up, but I don’t always know how to… be better.”
You looked up at him, your eyes still watery but soft, full of that same stubborn affection you always had for him. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to let me in when it gets hard.”
He let out a slow breath, trying to wrap his head around how you could want him—still want him—after all the times he’d messed up. “I’m tryin’, alright?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t wanna push you away, but sometimes it feels like that’s the only thing I know how to do.”
You gave him this sad little smile, like you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t care if you push sometimes,” you conceded, “Just—don’t leave. Don’t make me feel like I’m in this alone.”
That hit him harder than anything.
He realized then, as much as he was scared of dragging you down, you were scared of him disappearing. No matter how fucked up things got, no matter how much he doubted himself or the future, he wasn’t about to let you slip away.
You bit your lip, like you were debating whether or not to say something, and for a second, Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“I love you, Rafe.”
Those three words hit him harder than anything ever had. Harder than all the fights, the doubts, the shit he carried around like it was glued to his skin. His heart just about stopped in his chest, and he just stared at you like you’d knocked the wind out of him.
“What—what did you just say?” His voice came out hoarse like he didn’t trust what he heard.
“I love you,” you said again, a little more sure this time. You smiled, but your eyes were still searching his, like you were waiting for him to say something back.
Like maybe he wouldn’t.
His head started spinning, like the room had just tilted sideways.
He could feel his pulse hammering in his throat, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was about to pass out or just drop to his knees. How the hell were you standing there, looking at him, and saying that?
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He felt his knees wobble for a second, like his legs were going to give out. Jesus Christ, get it together, he thought, trying to pull in a breath, but it felt like the air got stuck halfway down his throat.
“You love me?” His voice cracked, and he hated how insecure he sounded, how unsure. But it was like his brain couldn’t process those words coming from you.
You nodded, stepping closer, your hand slipping back to his chest, right over his heart. “Yeah. I love you.”
Rafe’s heart was pounding so hard now, he thought it might actually explode. He blinked, then swallowed hard, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
It wasn’t like he didn’t believe you—it was just, how the hell did he deserve that? Deserve you?
“Shit…” He whispered, almost to himself, and suddenly his legs felt weak again. “I... I—fuck, I don’t know what to say.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
But he did.
He needed to say something, anything, to let you know what that meant to him. His throat felt tight, like he might choke if he didn’t get it out.
 “I—I love you too.” It came out fast, like he was scared if he didn’t say it quick enough, you might take it back. "I love you, too. So fucking much, I don't even know what to do with it half the time.”
He looked down at you, and for once, he didn’t care if he was being soft or vulnerable or any of that shit that scared him before.
He just wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much you meant to him.
And as soon as the words were out, you smiled, this big, radiant smile that lit up your whole face, and Rafe felt like he might actually faint this time.
His heart was gonna burst wide open. He pulled back a little, still holding onto you, his forehead resting against yours. 
“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he muttered, “I’ve never—no one’s ever...”
You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek, and it was so gentle, so full of love, that it almost knocked him off his feet all over again.
“You deserve it,” you reminded him again, “You deserve to be loved.”
There you were, always telling him of what he was deserving of. 
“I love you,” he whispered again, just to make sure you knew. He buried his face in your neck, his arms enveloping you tighter than before.
You loved him. You loved him. And he loved you.
It felt like the confession had lightened up something inside you.
He’d thought about how it would go, the first time you two would be together like that. In his head, it was always this big moment, something special. 
He was rough around the edges, sure, but he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect for you. He'd even thought about planning something out—candles, a slow build, maybe a weekend when no one was around.
His breath was ragged as he felt you pull him closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. He’d thought about this moment a thousand times—hell, probably more—but never like this.
Not rushed, not with everyone downstairs, and definitely not with you looking at him like you couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed him like you couldn’t stop, fingers already slipping beneath the fabric, making it hard for him to think straight.
“Sweetheart...” his voice was low with that familiar southern drawl, like he was trying to hold it all together. “You sure ‘bout this? We got a house full of people downstairs.”
You kissed him harder, pulling his shirt over his head, and he nearly lost his mind right then and there. He wanted to slow down, make this moment perfect for you, but the way you were all over him? It made him forget every plan he’d ever had. He let out a shaky breath, his hands settling on your waist, trying to ground himself. 
Jesus, this wasn’t how he’d imagined it.
He wanted to slow down, wanted to make this moment last, but you were already working your hands up his chest, and it was driving him insane.
“I don’t care,” you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and all desperate.
Damn, if you weren’t the most stubborn, determined girl he’d ever met. But he loved that about you. Loved how you always knew exactly what you wanted. And right now? It was clear you wanted him. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the curves he’d been dreaming about for months.
Rafe let out a groan, trying his best to keep it together, but you were making it damn near impossible. “I was... I was tryin’ to be romantic for once,” he mumbled as he looked into your eyes, practically begging himself to slow down, to make this right. “Was thinkin’ candles, music... not with your whole damn family downstairs, baby.”
You laughed, breathless, and pulled him even closer, your body against his. “You don’t want me?” There was a hint of challenge in your voice like you didn’t believe him.
His blue eyes went wide. “What? ‘Course I want you,” he said, almost shocked you’d even think that. “‘I’ve always wanted you. You gotta know that.”
You looked up at him and he nearly came on the stop, “Then stop holding back.”
Every last bit of control he had glided right out of his hands. You were there, right in front of him, pulling him into you, like you didn’t care about anything else. All his plans, all his ideas of some perfect first time? Out the damn window.
 “You... you look so damn beautiful. This dress— I can’t get over how good you look in it.”
You giggled, and for a moment, the heat between you two softened into something tender, something that made his chest ache.
He loved that sound. Loved the way it lit up your face, like you had no idea just how much you meant to him.
He kissed you again, slow at first like he was trying to be a gentleman, but the way you kissed him back, so eager, so damn hungry—it broke whatever restraint he had left. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, feeling the soft fabric of your dress against his skin, and it sent a jolt through him, making him lose track of everything but you. The room felt too small, and all he could think about was how long he’d been waiting for this—for you.
His hands trembled as he reached for the hem of your dress, hesitating for a second before pulling it up, revealing the soft skin of your waist. He was trying to stay calm, to keep his mind from racing, but it felt damn near impossible with the way you were looking at him.
You were everything.
He swallowed hard, “I... I wanna take my time with you,” he murmured, like he was scared he’d crack the spell between you if he spoke too loud. His fingers brushed over your skin, gentle, as he lifted your dress the rest of the way, eyes flicking up to yours, searching for any sign that you wanted him to stop.
You didn’t.
If anything, you moved even closer, your breathing coming out in quick, giddy breaths. There was something endearing about it—like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you both wanted it so badly. You were learning together.
Your dress fell to the floor, and he just stared for a moment, blue eyes all wide, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Goddamn..”
His hands hovered over your skin, like he didn’t want to rush, but you were yanking him impossibly closer, urging him on. He began to move again, gliding slowly over your bare skin, every touch reverent, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful enough.
He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands still roaming over your body, savoring every inch of you. The soft sighs you made only pushed him further, made him forget everything except how much he wanted to make you feel good, how much he needed this to be good for you.
His was light-headed as he whispered your name, “God, I love you— I don’t think you even know how much.”
“I think I do,” you whispered back, lips brushing his neck. “Show me.”
He reached for the delicate straps of your bra and pulled them down your shoulders, like he was unwrapping the most precious thing in the world.
He paused for a second, looking into your eyes, making sure you were still with him, still wanting this as much as before.
You nodded softly, your lips parted, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. His fingers found the clasp, fumbling slightly, and he cursed under his breath with a rough chuckle, “Sorry, baby… it’s just—damn, I’m mess right now.”
You beamed at him, all the tension melting away, “You’re doing’ just fine,” you whispered, urging him to keep going.
With one final tug, the clasp gave way, and your bra slipped off, falling to the floor. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took you in, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard like he couldn’t believe this was real.
His hands moved steadily, fingertips grazing your bare skin as he lowered them to your waist, where the last piece of fabric still clung to your body. He hesitated for just a second, his eyes coming back to yours, silently asking for permission.
 “I want you.”
That was all it took.
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down, savoring every inch of you as you were revealed to him. He let out a low groan, as he finally saw you—all of you.
He needed to remind himself this was real. That you were his. “Fuck,” His voice was filled with awe. "You’re perfect.”
Your fingers drifted lower, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and you felt noticed how his body tensed under your touch, his muscles rippling as he tried to keep himself calm.
“C’mon,” you purred, just teasing as you pulled at the button, “I think it’s your turn now.”
Rafe’s lips curved into that cocky grin he knew you loved, "You sure ‘bout that, sweetheart?" 
You nodded, small hands already working to unbutton his jeans. He almost let out a prayer, biting his lip as you slipped them down, his body shivering as your fingers brushed against his skin.
His jeans fell to the floor, and you took a step back, admiring him like he was worth all that staring. Rafe stood there in nothing but his boxers, chest heaving with all that uncontrollable love he felt for you.
His eyes were locked on yours, full of that same intense need, but there was something tender in them too, he still couldn’t quite believe you were here, undressing him like this. But you were real, standing there with him and undressing him like you wanted every single piece of him. 
With a soft smile, you reached up, fingers twitching at the waistband of his boxers, your eyes never leaving his. The way you looked at him as you slid them down slowly, revealing every inch of him? He was never letting that go.
Rafe just stood there for a moment, completely bare, his body a little rigid with anticipation, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you took him in.
"You're perfect too," your eyes roamed over him, taking in the sharp lines of his body, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
When you stepped closer, hands touching his hips now, dragging him towards you, his fingers found your hair, tangling in it as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that kiss.
"Jesus," he whispered against your lips, eyes closing as he tried to breath through his excitement, "You're drivin' me crazy.”
You just let out soft little laugh that made his stomach flip, your fingers mapping over his jaw, keeping him close. His whole body was buzzing with need, his skin burning wherever you touched him, but there was something else in the way you were looking at him—a kind of trust that he wasn’t sure he deserved but fuck if he wasn’t going to do everything to live up to it.
His hands skimmed back down to your hips, your bare skin against his, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe right. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you, trying to calm his racing heart.
“You know I’ll take care of you,” he promised, "I want this to be good for you— I’ve always wanted this to be good for you."
You tilted his face down, your lips brushing against his “It already is, Rafe. Just...just be with me."
That was all he needed.
Rafe’s hands touched all over you like he was trying to memorize every part of you, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him have this.
He kissed you, slow but needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and the way you responded made his entire body shake. His hands ended up back in your waist, thumb brushing the skin, lifting you just a little and guiding you to the bed, where you both sank into the mattress together.
His weight settled over you, your bodies fitting together in this perfect way that made his head spin. He leaned down, kissing your neck, your collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach.
Your breath came in short gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed his way down your body, and Rafe swore he could die.
“You’re everything,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse with emotion. "You don't even know... how long I've wanted this. How much I want you."
His fingers moved down, brushing the inside of your thigh. He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching yours, needing that confirmation one more time. You nodded, biting your lip.
His fingers slid between your thighs, slow at first, the warmth of your skin making him shudder. He exhaled sharply, opening you up to him, feeling how ready you were, and it nearly drove him insane. His fingers moved carefully, testing the waters, the softest groan escaping his lips as he found that sensitive spot.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe the way you felt under his touch.
Your breath caught, hips shifting toward him, a soft moan breaking loose as his fingers pressed against you. The sound of your voice, the way your body responded to him—it drove him wild. He wanted to make sure you felt good.
Two of his fingers slipped inside, careful, tentative at first. He watched your face, making sure you were okay, his other hand resting on your hip, steadying you as they curled slightly, finding a rhythm that made your body arch into him.
“Rafe…” you breathed out, your voice wobbly, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation overwhelmed you.
He worked a little faster now, getting even harder as he felt you tighten around him. “Like that, baby?”
You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle another moan, your hands latching on his shoulders as your body quivered under his touch. He groaned softly, his lips finding your neck, licking and sucking at the soft skin there as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. 
Your body curved toward him, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers moved deeper, curling just right. He swallowed hard, his lips brushing against your ear, "Is this okay?"
Your heart thumped against your rib cage, every movement of his fingers making you gasp softly. You managed to give him a small nod, barely able to find your voice. "Yeah, Rafe... it's perfect."
His breath came out a little less unrestrained, clearly relieved, and he continued, the pace slow, testing. The uncertainty in his touch was endearing, but you wanted more—you needed more.
“Baby,” you murmured softly, biting your lip as a rush of heat stretched through you, “Maybe… one more?”
He froze for a moment, his voice coming out in a ragged gasp as he looked at you. “Are you sure?”
Your heart swelled at his concern, and you gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m sure. Just take it slow."
Carefully, he pulled back just a little, his fingers slipping out before he added a third finger. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes flicking up to yours, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.
The sensation was different, intense, but not too overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, your body adjusting to the new pressure as he filled you more.
“Does it—does it feel good?” Rafe asked, his face inches from yours, vulnerable.
“Yes,” you breathed out, “It feels amazing.”
His lips parted, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I was worried I’d mess it up.”
You shook your head, pulling him closer, your hand twisting in his hair. “You're doing great.”
He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing a little as he found a rhythm again. His fingers moved more confidently now, more certain, his jaw falling slack as he watched you react to him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe muttered, eyes glued to your face. “You feel that? You’re taking me so well.”
You whined at how deep his voice sounded, your body buzzing as his fingers worked in deeper, the pressure mounting with every movement. Your mind filled with nothing but the feeling of him inside you.
“God, yes,” you breathed out, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might break apart.
Rafe's pace quickened, as he pressed his fingers harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. 
"Come on, baby," he practically begged you, voice hoarse. Your breath came out in short, shallow gasps as you felt yourself creeping toward the edge, every movement of his hand bringing you closer. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as the tension snapped, your body shuddering as the pleasure washed over you.
His eyes widened in awe, his fingers slowing as he watched you like he couldn’t believe what he’d just made happen. He groaned softly, feeling you pulse around him, "You did so good," he murmured, lips brushing against your temple. "So perfect."
You felt a shiver run down your entire being as his hands glided up your thighs, spreading them gently as he settled himself between them. He was shaking a little, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes—the nervousness that came with doing something for the first time, not wanting to mess it up.
But when he leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, all the apprehend melted away. He couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way your lips parted as you breathed him in. He felt like he was drowning, but in the best way possible.
“I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
You looked up at him, your own breath uneven, eyes wide and the way you saw through him—it was like you were giving him the world. His hand was still shaking slightly as he reached down, lining himself up with you, taking his time, not rushing even though every fiber of his being screamed to.
"I wanna make this good for you," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "I don’t wanna hurt you." 
There was a hesitation, a vulnerability that he only showed in moments like this. His focus was entirely on you, on making sure you felt nothing but pleasure. You gave him a small, reassuring nod, your hand finding his, fingers slipping through his, squeezing. "I trust you.”
He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself as he eased into you, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time, making sure you were still doing okay.
The sensation overwhelmed him, the warmth of your body, the way you welcomed him so completely. He groaned, low and deep, knowing he could do this for the rest of his life. You were so fucking warm.
"Fuckkk," he moaned, "You feel so fuckin' good, darlin'."
His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he sank deeper, the feeling of being inside you nearly sending him over the edge. He wanted to take it slow, to savor every moment, but the way you clenched around him, the way you whispered his name like it was the only word you knew—it made it impossible.
Your eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing against flushed cheeks, lips parting in a soft gasp that made his heart skip a beat. His hips moved on instinct, slow at first, testing, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to hold back. "Tell me if it’s too much," he managed to say, his voice strained.
“It’s p-perfect.”
His hips snapped forward, the movement more sure, more confident as he lost himself in the moment. A low groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he moved faster, harder, the need to be closer to you taking over.
You mewled pathetically at this point, nails digging into every bit of skin you could get your hands on, body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot over and over again. It wasn’t fair that he was a natural.
The way you responded to him, the sounds you made—it had to be the best day of his life.
“Touch me.”
He cupped your tit, thumb brushing over the hardened peak with a gentle touch that contrasted the desperate way his hips moved against you.
His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of emotion as his hands explored you. "Like this?" he murmured, his thumb circling again as his hips moved deeper. The way your body reacted—sucking him in like a goddamn vice—it nearly undid him.
“Mmhp—Fuck. J—Just like that.”
He leaned down, like a man possessed, lips brushing the soft skin of your tit, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth found the hardened peak, lips wrapping around it with a low groan, and his tongue flicked over it slowly, teasingly. You gasped, your hands entangling in his hair, holding him there as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper.
He hummed in satisfaction, feeling the way your body responded to him. His tongue circled slowly, drawing out every sound you made, savoring each gasp, each moan as he lavished attention on your body. 
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips trailing over your heated flesh. “You taste so good.”
You couldn’t help the way your body responded, pressing up against him, your hips rolling to meet his. The dual sensation of his mouth on you and the deep, steady thrusts left you tingling all over, beneath him, completely dazed by the pleasure he was giving you.
“Rafe—" you huffed, the word barely more than a breath as your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth latched on harder, sucking with a fervor that left you breathless.
He pulled back just slightly, lips wet and swollen as he looked up at you,“I could do this all night,” he whispered, “You like that, baby? You like how I’m making you feel?”
He didn’t know where these surges of confidence kept coming from, but he never felt so relieved. It felt like his body knew exactly what to do when it came to yours.
His hand skidded between your legs once more, fingers finding your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that matched the rhythm of his hips and mouth. You could barely think straight, couldn’t form a coherent thought.
When his lips finally crashed back into yours, the taste of him overpowered every sense as his hands pulled your hips tighter. His kiss was messy, all spit and need, like he couldn’t get enough of you—like he needed to feel you, taste you, breathe you in all at once. His tongue slid past your parted lips, slow and teasing at first, then deeper, as if he was trying to consume you whole.
He groaned into the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging on it softly, then harder as he swallowed the sound of your whines.
When he broke the kiss, it was only to press wet, fevered kisses down your jawline, to your neck, leaving a trail of spit and heat in his wake.
“I love you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips latching onto your collarbone, sucking on the sensitive spot just below your ear, biting gently, “So fuckin’ much.”
“I love you,” You breathed out between kisses, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass and pulling you flush against him, the hard line of his body pressing against yours in a way that made you gasp, “Never g-gonna s-stop,” you whispered back, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he kissed you harder, rougher, swallowing every sound you made.
"Fuck, I’m close," he gasped, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to hold back, to make this last, but you could feel him losing control, feel the tension coiling tight in his body. His hips moved with a relentless, desperate need, his breath broken and uneven.
“Rafe—” you nearly cried, your body shaking beneath him. Every thrust, every touch, every breath was pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.
“Let go for me, baby,” he encouraged you, two fingers still rubbing teasing circles over your sensitive clit, “Come for me.”
Your body tightened around him as you came undone with a cry of his name. Rafe groaned as he felt you clench around him, fluttering so perfectly.
His release was not far behind as he thrust into you one last time, before pulling out with a strangled moan, his body shuddering as he came all over your tummy, his head falling to your shoulder.
Rafe stayed there for a while, catching his breath, his body still shaking like a leaf as the tremors of pleasure coursed through him.
Taking his time, he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. "I love you," he said it again, as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed cheek. "So damn much."
You never looked so heartbreakingly beautiful. Like a fucking painting.
You grinned from ear to ear, your heart swelling with affection as you held his face in your hands, pulling him for another kiss. "I love you too," you murmured against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair, "Always."
Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against yours, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were his, and he was yours—completely, utterly, and without question
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inchidentally · 9 hours
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"short and easier to read" babe I am so sorry to you and everyone else for how my insane posts come out - it's why I link to so much stuff bc it is a struggleee for me to not write just run-on sentences ;__; but I do get what you mean and I promise I tried my best - it's def shorter than the og and in smaller bites if that helps ??
(I actually wrote this on someone else's laptop so it's got proper punctuation and capitalization and everything!)
For those who don’t know: Oscar is an acts of service guy Lando is a words of affirmation guy. Let’s remember that someone’s love language is how they choose to express themselves, not what they should demand of others!
Oscar is also very much not a PR guy, for anyone totally oblivious to the obvious (and that all his "greatest hits" in PR were done unintentionally or bc he's awkward or bc his mom is cooler than him). For example, Oscar brings up his girlfriend of 4-5 years a fair amount but it’s almost hilariously not gushy or romantic (having a “cuddle” is as far as it goes lasfgjlsagfl). But he’s said himself that for the most part he’d prefer not to have too much private life available to the public. *His downtime with Lando joins in with all his other social life in being extremely limited to the public. 
The “thanking the sponsors” thing is one of Oscar’s safe, approved speeches he pulled from Andrea so that Oscar doesn’t have to do spontaneous on-camera speaking. Sorry but not all of us are good at it and it’s wayyyy easier to just have some rehearsed pre-approved soundbites. He tends to have a few that he repeats for a while until he updates the list lsafjslafhlafh.
He also very openly struggles to do on-camera speaking and no one knows that better than Lando who’s had to help him a huge amount. 
It does seem to be mostly cameras that make him stressed bc he was fine thanking Lando for his help in Baku at the fan stage in Singapore and overall he can use more of his dry humor when he's speaking to people rather than just to a camera. 
Lando’s recent inclusion of Oscar in his media responses to this degree is a reaction to Hungary and Monza - normally, his post race responses focus on himself and his own performance (which is literally normal and the default for drivers!!). The recent emphasis on teamwork/Oscar is something he feels he needs to do with his own PR work right now. He’s a smart man who’s been doing this a long time, so his reasons are valid no matter what fans think. He’s not sitting there working out or analyzing Oscar’s PR, just his own. 
People are absolutely running away with themselves over Monza and ignoring that apart from that one moment, Oscar is widely popularly seen as the supportive teammate role. To the point where last year and even part of this year, Lando was criticized by a lot of fans for not acknowledging Oscar enough.
Going off of that, let’s show how easy it is to take PR and media to make one of them look bad by turning it around onto Lando (!! this is for an example, I do NOT endorse hating on Lando for any of it !!)
Lando openly disliked being referred to as the “older teammate” and kinda left Oscar to his own devices so much last season that Oscar wouldn’t know where he was going a lot of the time and even semi-joked “my teammate’s abandoned me” (again, reminder this was not a source of drama for anyone but fans). He got called a little duckling a lot bc he’d tail Lando closely so as not to lose him. In fact it started irking some people that Lando would spend so much time with Carlos or Daniel and not getting to know his new teammate and helping him out with his rookie season of F1 the way Carlos did for Lando.
In every team photo where Lando has had a podium and Oscar has had nothing (and sometimes due at least in part to team orders!) which is very often! the comments sections have always had plenty of ‘Oscar is such a great team player, always happy and showing up for Lando no matter what’. So the whole ‘Oscar doesn’t do enough for Lando’ narrative is extremely recent and at odds with the rest of reality.
Please read the very first part of my enormous full post bc Lando didn’t thank Oscar for his Miami win, he praised his driving.
Even though at Silverstone this year Lando got on the podium and Oscar didn’t, Oscar made the fan stage all about bringing Lando out of his disappointment and even said he did the shoey “to make us feel better” and then dedicated the top row of his IG that week to photos and videos of him and Lando. Special note that this is in no way Oscar’s home race and he was solely seeing it as emotional for Lando and McLaren - and he had zero reason to personally be very happy after that weekend.
I’ve seen Melbourne this year get mentioned in the team orders discussions on my fyps, so that’s a handy example in many ways: Despite Melbourne being Oscar’s literal hometown race - and Lando even filming some Quadrant stuff at Oscar’s childhood karting track where a corner is named after him* - this year Lando didn’t acknowledge Oscar really at all over the weekend until someone mentioned him at the end of the podium press conference. Lando acknowledged that Oscar following team orders made his (Lando’s) drive a bit easier in Melbourne this year but said that he was faster than Oscar and deserved third over him anyway. (Good contrast to Hungary and even Carlos stating that something an undercut due to pit strategy shouldn’t erase one teammate being faster/more dominant in a race in order to give the other teammate the win!) He did PR work with pretty much everyone except Oscar actually, even doing promo for his (Lando’s) dad’s electric scooters on the new dotmov acc. Kind of like him being on a similar PR campaign at Singapore this year because of a sneak preview of Quadrant rebranding and announcing the Landostand at Silverstone  - he went for the biggest PR hits and posted Daniel on his jpg account, did a golf day with Carlos and Max F and was more active on socials than he had been for months. All while only having Oscar in one photo out of the whole weekend’s carousel despite the McLaren double podium. You could even read into him cutting Oscar and Oscar’s trophy out of two of the shots if you wanted! (He did include Oscar in the big group photo after the podium celebrations.)
*I saw some ppl say he didn't include Oscar in the Melbourne karting filming bc McLaren doesn't cross over with Quadrant, which isn't true. Zak has shares in Quadrant and Bianca has been included in the Quadrant rebranding launch with Lando's Singapore helmet design.
See how easy that was to flip it around?? If you’re even slightly biased against a driver or never see flaws in another- or are dying for two teammates to hate each other - then confirmation bias will always find plenty of “evidence”! Because the reality is that after the Austin GP, Lando found his “older teammate” mode and began helping Oscar out with his rookie year. In Melbourne, Lando spent his first day filming for his .mov account including the Oscar jersey and merch he came across - and Oscar mentioned how he and Lando talked about Lando filming at his old track. (Again, not PR coordinated or filmed, just mentioned!) And that after the Singapore race this year, they beamed at each other every other second of that night, filmed a deliriously happy post race video and joked in the cool down room - I honestly doubt have even noticed yet what the other has posted to IG salfhsalfafa. All of the negativity fans are coming up with is their own personal spin and does not resemble how Lando and Oscar are behaving to or speaking about each other.
They base their relationship on their conversations and interactions solely away from the public and the cameras and don’t do any inflammatory commentary about each other. They bragged about the door in the team hub that separates their drivers rooms from everyone else and leaves them open only to each other. Their communications only matter to each other when in private.
Segueing on from that: media and social media are literally PR. Lando is extremely skilled at it now and Oscar is not at all naturally skilled and is still learning. Lando is quick to be able to adapt his media responses, Oscar is not and often sounds stilted and uncomfortable. But it still has nothing to do with how they think of each other and talk to each other personally.
And “Landoscar” has never had the typical PR bromance aspect that we all love in other teammates, and it never will. Lando and Oscar mention but don’t broadcast or package their downtime together and they don’t share their private dynamic with fans or the media apart from the glimpses we see in more relaxed content. It’s just their choice! And just like it doesn’t mean Lando and Oscar are less friends because they don’t PR their relationship, it doesn’t mean the friendships who do utilize PR are less friends! 
And tbh that’s a good note to leave on: that seeing two drivers with no PR to gain from openly liking and respecting each other should mean that we as fans place less importance on the PR responses they give to media and put on social media. So many people want them to hate each other (Netflix even begging them outright) and rivalries get far more headlines and fan engagement, that if these two didn’t like each other or even were blah about each other, they wouldn’t waste time trying to fake it (side note ppl actually thought this joke was deadly serious for a short while). F1 isn’t team sports, no one really cares if drivers or teams appear “friendly” unless they’re desperate for money/engagement to keep them afloat (even there, Alpine prove it clearly isn’t a priority to have friendly teammates when you’re lower down the grid!)
There is absolutely nothing to be gained for them in faking the smiles and laughter and twinning. Equally there’s nothing to be gained by us as fans in judging them and their relationship based on their PR responses and PR work. Lando beams and smiles the same at Oscar after all of Oscar’s awkward, stiff debrief speeches and I kind of want one of these crazy stans to say to him that Oscar is a bad team player and doesn’t show Lando enough appreciation just to watch what his adorable face does in response (don’t do that I’m joking).
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i-starcreamed · 6 hours
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Hi I heard you make transformers one oneshot umm I hope you won't mind, this actually a D-16 oneshot " what if his s/o get shoted instead of Orion" or " D - 16 meeting s/o for the first time"
D-16 / MEGATRON X READER
I combined both requests :3
cybertronian!reader SPOILERS FOR TF ONE Puree angst, character death, sadness :(
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You were also a miner, like Orion and D-16. You met in a similar way they did.
You grunted, your limbs aching from pushing around the minecart around all day. It was filled with raw energon rock at this point, so it was a lot heavier. Last night, you hadn’t recharged well, and now you felt like you were running on your last drop of consciousness... Your optics widened when you unexpectedly bumped into something in front of you, sending your minecart toppling over and spilling its contents.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—“ You hissed, watching all the progress of the day come crashing down onto the floor. You pursed your mouth in frustration; this really sucked.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me help you out, here.” A calm voice came from in front of you, prompting you to avert your optics toward the bot you had bumped into. You paused--hmmm, he was a handsome bot. You eyed his armor for a moment before realizing you were staring.
“Sorry! Uh, I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, kneeling down to pick up your rocks, him beside you. He let out a small spurt of a gruff chuckle.
“No worries. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here. I’m D-16.” He introduced himself, you still remember the way he smiled at you. You nervously smiled back
“I’m Y/N. I was actually uh...promoted just recently. I’ve never mined energon before. It’s harder than I thought.”
“Oh, well, it gets easier. You get better at it too.” He said, tossing the last bit of rock back into your cart and helping you turn it upright.
“So where were you headed off to?” He asked, walking beside you now.
You took a deep breath. “To the trains? I was told to report to Elita-1 afterward.”
“Psh, really? That’s a coincidence, so am I.” He said lightly, grinning at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle.
It started as a friendship—you, Orion and D-16. You were a little trio. Despite this, Orion always noticed the particular… attention you paid specifically to D. When the three of you joked around, you would always look toward him to watch his reaction—or rather, his smile. You became bashful when he helped you with something, he, in turn, softened up around you. It didn’t take long for Orion to see right through you—meanwhile, D remained completely oblivious!! History says you were just friends
Eventually, you two started dating! You made a sweet couple, with Orion constantly third-wheeling. You can imagine everything you went through after kind of illegally participating in the race, getting thrown to Level 50 as a punishment, and uncovering the location of the Primes.
You watched as your lover changed, and it pained you. You saw his anger slowly shift and shift, first towards his best friend, then at everyone else. You watched as he became feverishly focused on killing Sentinel.
“D, don’t!”
Your yell went silent as you ran in front of sentinel, the blast from D’s cannon hitting you instead of him. The impact blasted through your chest, ripping through armor, your casing, and your wiring—until it struck your spark. This was the turning point when D-16 became.. Megatron. His optics widened, he stopped seeing red for a split second.
He watch as your body fell, the whole world seemed to come to a halt.
“Y/N!” He yelled and dived after your body, momentarily forgetting about his anger. Before you could fall into the depths of Iacon, he caught your arm. He didn’t waste a second as he desperately tried to pull you up. You had no strength left to help yourself--your body hung limp.
“Why! Why did you do that!?” He yelled at you, his voice shaking. As you slipped between consciousness, you realized you’d never heard your lover so emotional. Not like this.
“You can’t go, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—“
“D…”
Your arm started slipping from his digits. “I’m so sorry…you have to.. stop this. Please,” you whispered out, the light in your optics flickering.
Megatron stared at you, partly in disbelief at you and himself. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, I-I promise,” He hissed, his servo desperately holding on. You knew you didn’t have much time left.
“D, please don’t this. I love you. I always will. No matter what I’ll always remember you as my D-16.” You whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, roaring in anguish as your body slipped from his grip. He watched as you descended into the depths of your planet. You were going to become a part of Cybertron again, just as they all started out as. He’s so sorry.
He’s sorry he’s not the D-16 you knew.
Despite this loss, he still became Megatron. Afterall, he had nothing to lose now.
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fuck-customers · 1 day
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i work for a company that gets contracts with car dealerships which means i end up spending my days at different car dealerships. i don’t have a “home base” like others in my department. i am the AM and wnd up traveling around a lot. right now, i am most frequently at a certain dealership and man…. i hate it here. the lot is MASSIVE and they keep ordering cars. the “dungeon” is filled to the brim with huge ass trucks that are almost impossible to move out of the spots. and they’re redoing the building near the dungeon so its even harder getting out with all the work trucks around. the whole lot is overfilled right now and there is very little parking (if any some days). the building i work out of majority of the day is shared with the managers for this dealership. i’ve had to park next to said building recently and TELL ME WHY the managers put a note on my car saying “you can’t park here!!! managers only!! we get all these spots so you have to park in the dungeon which is on the exact opposite side of the property and about half a mile away from the building you work out of!” EXCUSE ME? you want me to do WHAT? all because you can’t potentially park in the one spot i have literally never seen anyone park in. its always empty. what the fuck kind of entitlement do you fucking losers have?? best part is: we have several dealerships that are the same name. (think like john smith [car brand here] or john smith [dif car brand here) and ONLY at this specific name i have issues like this. every other dealership i go to that is of a different name, everyone is so nice. i don’t get yelled at for parking somewhere, i don’t get bitched at for stupid shit. this place drives me BONKERS. all these managers think they are gods and i am the dirt they walk on. fuck you. can’t fucking wait to get sent somewhere else and get treated like an actual human being again.
Posted by admin Rodney
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howlsofbloodhounds · 2 days
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You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.
If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).
If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?
I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot
Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.
I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.
I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.
And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.
Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.
And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?
As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.
Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.
Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).
Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.
Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?
I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.
He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.
I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.
So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?
{ @stellocchia }
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dukealicious · 1 day
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can we honestly e date? you’re so beautiful. You always make me laugh, you always make me smile. You literally make me want to become a better person… I really enjoy every moment we spend together. My time has no value unless its spent with you. I tell everyone of my irls how awesome you are. Thank you for being you. Whenever you need someone to be there for you, know that i’ll always be right there by your side. I love you so much. I don’t think you ever realize how amazing you are sometimes. Life isn’t as fun when you’re not around. You are truly stunning. I want you to be my soulmate. I love the way you smile, your eyes are absolutely gorgeous. If I had a star for everytime you crossed my mind i could make the entire galaxy. Your personality is as pretty as you are and thats saying something. I love you, please date me. I am not even calling it e dating anymore because I know we will meet soon enough heart OK I ADMIT IT I LOVE YOU OK i hecking love you and it breaks my heart when i see you play with someone else or anyone commenting in your profile i just want to be your girlfriend and put a heart in my profile linking to your profile and have a walltext of you commenting cute things i want to play video games talk in discord all night and watch a movie together but you just seem so uninsterested in me it hecking kills me and i cant take it anymore i want to remove you but i care too much about you so please i’m begging you to eaither love me back or remove me and never contact me again it hurts so much to say this because i need you by my side but if you dont love me then i want you to leave because seeing your icon in my friendlist would kill me everyday of my pathetic life.
-👻
Okay, I'm gonna say. I was shocked. That's why it's taken like 40 minutes for me to reply to this. However. I think you're fucking with me. And I'm pretty sure I know why now. Listen, I'm glad you talked to me at first, I thought you were two certain people but now I think you're just some random person who just decided to mess with me and my feelings and even MJ. I'm pretty sure this is affecting him too. So. Thanks for the copypaste. Lmfao.
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yuri-is-online · 3 days
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Weird Yutu thingy but what if Yuu came from the Pokemon world
I believe the support system in the Pokemon world is much better than Earth so-
Single parent with a raging teen-
Add some emotional support Pokemon
And when Yutu comes to his parent's timeline Yuu gets so excited to see new Pokemon (that love them for some reason. Almost as though they were their first trainer-)
Oh Yuu and Yutu would be in such a better place if they came from the pokemon world. Yuu gets a house with a bunch of neighbors and nearby a lab and no one really cares about not knowing who Yutu's dad is.
The pokemon part is a bit trickey though... would they remember Twisted Wonderland? Probably, I couldn't see the magic marshal's keeping the pokemon? But I could also see one of Yuu's team staying with Yutu's dad by accident. Maybe it helps keep the boys who remain alive that much more sane, maybe it stands reluctant guard nearby where the phantom resides, unable to think of anything else to do until it sees Yutu and gets some of its old energy back. This whole ayuu is based off of Fire Emblem Awakening so I have to mention Cherche and her wyvern Minerva... her son Gerome takes up his mother's mount and brings her back in time with him, it's how she recognizes him even before he shows her the wedding ring... perhaps something similar happened with Yutu where he has one of your pokemon and you just know that he's lying to you even before you know he's your son (Gerome's supports with his dad made me so mad because I always S ranked Cherche and Libra because Libra actually learns to speak wyvern in their support chain but that's not reflected in his support with Gerome because it's generic and i wanted to scream every time i read iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I sort of based Jade! Yutu's attitude towards his dad on those supports though)
But back to nicer thoughts, I always struggle with pokemon aus because half of it is just assigning the pokemon, and then I get super caught up in what region everyone is from and just bleh
Riddle! Yutu has to have a Roselia right? It just makes sense, maybe he has the shiny stone for the evolution all ready to go but it was the last present Yuu ever gave him so he's reluctant to use it. Maybe, if you want some extra angst, when he comes to Twisted Wonderland he still just has a budew because he's not super into pokemon battles but he struggles to raise the friendship level enough for budew to evolve once he's there. He's so upset about losing his parent and budew is trying their best tm but it's not enough until they see Overblot Riddle and finally get on the same wavelength.
The triplets... one of them has to have a Fidough that's just a given. I was tempted to say they all have one? But I like the idea of Yushi having a Swirlix since she's more into candymaking. That's 2/3 fairy types so I was scrolling looking for another one when I saw Sinistea and went "oh that would be cute and the perfect fit for a cafe themed se-" and then I realized I could give that to Yutres. Could. For funsies. But it makes much more sense and is less cruel to give her a Milcery. So Yutu gets Fidough, Yutres gets Milcery, and Yushi gets Swirlix for a cute little fairy cafe set.
Cater! Yutu is trickey, he's big on mindfulness and I was really tempted to give him my favorite pokemon because of that, but he also really likes music... I feel like psychic pokemon sort of fits his vibe? And I am torn between Chimecho and Espurr. Espurr is supposed to have difficulty controlling its power, so maybe Chimecho and Yutu could have been focused on helping one out. Cater is super underrated so why shouldn't I give his Yutu two pokemon, it'd be very cute.
Ace! Yutu is pikachu coded to me <3 They would fight so much because both pikachu and Yutu are little brats but once they get in sync watch out they're super scary. Easily the pokemon most excited to see Yuu again... perhaps all that ego clashing is just something that happened in Yuu's world because pika and Yutu bonded while grieving Yuu. Maybe Yutu never evolves his pikachu because that's how Yuu gave it to him. Maybe Pikachu doesn't want to evolve because that's how Yuu left it.
Deuce! Yutu... there aren't any explicitly chicken pokemon outside of maybe Moltres but there is Togepi who is an egg. Baby Yutu loves his bestest friend in the whole wide world, Delinquent Yutu is sort of embarrassed by them. After he catches a houndoor he stops actively using them in battle... he doesn't hate Togi, he just doesn't let anyone in his gang see them and gets really violent with anyone who might try to hurt them. Probably defends fairy types any chance he gets before stammering out some sort of excuse trying to play it off as someone else's opinions. Maybe his boys catch on and one of them gets the idea that maybe they could like... start using impidimps. Make Grimmsnarl the icon of the gang instead of Houndoom, just cause you know maybe fairies are kinda neat maybe. they all want it to be togi instead please boss we made them a little biker jacket isn't it so cu- i mean badass?
Leona! Yutu is loved by cats and he loves naps. Litleo feels like the most thematic pokemon for him, maybe they were napping under a tree one day and a Munchlax decided to follow him home because sleeping on Leona! Yutu was actually pretty warm and Yuu makes the best snacks. His dad probably didn't appreciate the correlation between him and his son's pokemon but as I have said before, he's very much that dad who doesn't want the cat but ends up asleep on the couch with it in his lap two days later. Except this time it's him feeding all his vegetables to Munchlax.
Ruggie! Yutu is my little dandelion prince so he gets a Hoppip. I like the idea of him coming home with one stuck in his hair and they've been best friends ever since. He feels like the one most likely to take over training Yuu's team, if he had continued living in your world I don't think he would have become a trainer. He would have been happy to have a normal job and maybe never evolve his pokemon, but he doesn't regret taking on the role of trainer in the bad future. It gives him a lot of self confidence.
Jack! Yutu... I will bestow him the honor of giving him one of my favorite pokemon. He gets Cacnea because Yuu remembers that Jack liked succulents. Yutu is very serious about taking care of him and making sure he has the best possible habitat at home. Cacnea is under the impression it is doing the same for Yutu and Yuu, but the stubby little hands it has make helping with chores difficult.
It's really tempting to give all of the Octatrio kids water type pokemon, maybe left over memories from Twisted Wonderland make Yuu think that would be a good idea. But I want to give Azul! Yutu a Clobbopus sosososososo bad. It's such a cute pokemon and I think Yutu would agree that his pokemon is super cute. So does everyone in Savanaclaw much to his annoyance, it's like his pokemon is the dorm leader and not him.
Jade! Yutu feels like a Mareanie guy. Water type since he's a merfolk, poison type because that's pretty punk rock, and it looks just enough like a mushroom to be thematic. I could see one of Yuu's pokemon staying in Twisted Wonderland with Jade... a Shiinotic who helps him at the bar and is the best cared for mushroom out there that Yutu is envious. Why does his parent's pokemon love his dad so much? Why won't it agree to come with him into the past where you are still alive because it insists on staying with Jade, saying that's what you would want?
Floyd! Yutu's favorite pokemon ever since he was a little boy was Sharpedo. He asked, suspiciously politely, to be given one when he was old enough to get his trainer's license. He even made a power point, how cute! The answer was still no, instead Yuu convinces the lab near by their house to take Yutu on as one of those trainers with a pokedex who goes on a journey to collect all the gym badges. He really likes being a trainer, probably would have been the annoying rival to his next door neighbor, definitely picked whatever pokemon was strongest against whatever they picked. He still catches his Carvanha and doesn't hold it against Yuu for not giving it to him, he thinks that was probably for the best.
Kalim! Yutu deserves a Whooper. It's cute, the little face is always smiling and Whooper and Quagsire are such joyful little guys I think Kalim would love them. Oricorio feels like a good choice too because of how much it likes dancing... but I feel like Yutu would have a hard time choosing what form to train because they are all so cool. His dad would be such an enabler, sure son lets have all four! And throw a themed party for each one lol
Jamil! Yutu also feels like a good candidate for a pokemon rival. Sure, Ekans and Arbok feel like good pokemon for him thematically, but I just know he would have a well balanced and thought out team of pokemon he deeply loves and takes great care of. Keeping with the snake theme, lets say he started out with Snivy. Serperior fits Jamil's overall vibe pretty well, it's a beautiful pokemon and very regal. Other pokemon I could see him having are Gastrodon, Clefable, and Scizor.
Vil! Yutu loves to draw but I do not like Smeargle in the slightest and will be pretending it does not exist. I feel like anyone attached to Vil should get a Buneary, it's a cute pokemon with a friendship evolution who has real hate in its heart. It is more like Vil than any poison type pokemon fr fr. I could see Vil! Yutu doing well as coordinator, but being a bit uncertain of who else he wants to add to his team, but catching an evee with the intent of evolving them into... something he just doesn't know what.
I hit the text block limit lol, I should just. Stop being distracted by cassette beasts and get back to writing. Or replay a pokemon game.
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hurtspideyparker · 1 day
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Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker
Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go. 
Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts. 
"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them. 
"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."
"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"
Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up. 
"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."
Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out. 
"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."
"Hm. I think you're right actually."
Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots. 
"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."
"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."
"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"
"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper. 
"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.
Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?" 
"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change." 
Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.
"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"
There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism. 
Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."
Pepper glances at Peter in consideration. 
"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company." 
"Oh, I haven't really-"
"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."
Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago. 
It means she's already had the argument in her head. 
Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner. 
"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously. 
"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents." 
"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter." 
"You are such a man child!"
"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.
"Um, guys, I think people are staring."
Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips. 
Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained." 
"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them. 
Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads. 
"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."
"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."
Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them. 
"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again. 
The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences. 
"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly. 
Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."
Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked. 
Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.
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tellmegoodbye · 21 hours
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Hello everyone,
Happy LONE STAR DAY!!
I have a few housekeeping things to talk about before I return to our usual Music Monday format, but I know we're all excited for tonight so I will try to keep this brief.
If you would like to check out our playlist for the countdown event you can find that here.
Since we are getting new episodes now, I thought it would be a cool idea for a new way to participate in the tag. If you have a song that you relate to the new episodes, share them with us!
Please continue to refer to this post for any new Music Monday info, or if you just need a refresher on how the tag works.
Here's a quick overview of what Music Monday is for those of you who are new here. You share your songs that you relate to the show, its characters, storylines, fanfics, etc. All songs are added to their respective playlists and your explanations are added to the docs I have created for each playlist.
Reminder: Make sure to either tag me in your posts OR you can use the 911ls music mondays tag so that I can find and reblog your contributions.
Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, onto my songs for the week!
---
Leave Out All The Rest - Linkin Park
I dreamed I was missing You were so scared But no one would listen Cause no one else cared After my dreaming I woke with this fear What am I leaving When I'm done here?
Don't be afraid I've taken my beating I've shared what I've made I'm strong on the surface Not all the way through I've never been perfect But neither have you So, if you're asking me, I want you to know
When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed And don't resent me And when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory Leave out all the rest
This song is a reflection on the way we live our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone. When I think about these lyrics in the context of Lone Star, they could really apply to any character, but Gabriel is who specifically comes to my mind for this song.
To me, this is Gabriel's message to Carlos. He's spent a lot of time reflecting on his own mistakes and has struggled to express the love he has for his son, but he hopes that Carlos will remember him as someone who never stopped trying and who always strived to be better. He didn't always get it right, but he looks at Carlos and feels so much love and pride, and he wants Carlos to know that and to see that.
Zzyzx Rd. - Stone Sour
Propped up by lies and promises Saving my place as life forgets Maybe it's time I saw the world
I'm only here for a while But patience is not my style And I'm so tired that I gotta go
What am I supposed to hide now? What am I suppose to do? Did you really think I wouldn't see this through Tell me I should stick around for you Tell me I could have it all I'm still too tired to care and I gotta go
I'm over existing in limbo I'm over the myths and placebos I don't really mind if I just fade away
I'm ready to live with my family I'm ready to die in obscurity 'Cause I'm so tired that I gotta go
This is a song written from the perspective of someone struggling with addiction. The narrator addresses his loved ones with a sort of brutal honesty about his feelings towards life, but it's also a song about love and support at the same time. It's about someone who is there for you even when you're in your worst moments and can't see a way out.
This song reminds me of TK and Owen in s1. Owen is ready to do whatever he has to do in order to help TK, and TK lets him in as much as he can, but these lyrics are also an realistic viewpoint on the state of his mental health in the aftermath of his suicide attempt. He knows Owen loves him and is there for him, but he still needs to find that healing outside of that support.
Impossible - Nothing But Thieves
Love, it stings and then it laughs At every beat of my battered heart A sudden jolt, a tender kiss I know I'm gonna die of this And that's because
I could drown myself in someone like you I could dive so deep I never come out I thought it was impossible But you make it possible
I'll take the smooth with the rough Feels so fucked up to be in love Another day, another night Stuck in my own head but you pull me out You pull me out
I really hit y'all with a couple angsty gems today, so I should probably round this post out with a more upbeat song. This song screams Tarlos to me, and reminds me of the early days of their relationship where everything is new and overwhelming, but it also just feels right at the same time. They've come to that realization that what they have is something special, and that they might have found their soulmate. Before they met, such a notion felt impossible to them.
@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos
Tags!
@eclectic-sassycoweyes @literateowl @carlos-tk @paperstorm @guardian-angle22
@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh
@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @sweettkstrand
@toomanycupsoftea @corsage @certifiedflower @goldenskykaysani @reeeallygood
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respectthepetty · 2 days
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Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 2/5
Since so many people voted for the two blacklisted shows I was supposed to watch during Pride, it unlocked the wild card of me rewatching my sworn enemy SOTUS. I don't remember anything about the show, and the only thing I truly took away from it was hating Krist for the last eight years, so I'm settling in and revisiting the past to figure out why I forgot about every single plot point of this show including that Jan was in it and that Kongpob x M were the perfect ghost ship.
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I left off praying that Arthit gets meaner before he gets nicer, which I consider as getting better before he gets worse, but since I'm getting Dangerous Romance flashbacks flash forwards, I doubt Arthit can commit to bullying Kong much longer before he turns full simp.
How am I not supposed to root for Kong x M when M looks so devastated every time Kong leaves his side to go talk to May. I know M likes May, but the way these scenes are set up, it's hard not to think that M likes Kong and he is in pain when everyone else gets his friend's time since he has known Kong SINCE JUNIOR HIGH!
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Thrilled that Wad is always ready to lay hands first and ask questions later. Also excited that he is motivated by pettiness just like me, so the only reason he is playing in the tea product placement game is just to spite the seniors. Petty work makes the dream work. Amen.
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The pink milk in this series needs to be studied because on one end of the spectrum, we in BL Land know the pink milk is a staple of a Thai BL (which is slowly coming back in Last Twilight, Only Friends, Addicted Heroin and I Saw You in My Dream), but on the other end, the show itself treats the pink milk like those dumb hot takes from people asking if drinking fruity cocktails makes a man a fruit, or if sucking on popsicles makes a man want to suck a dick, or if eating food in general makes a man queer. It just feels as if this show treats Arthit that way every time he orders it, like "GOTCHA, QUEER!"
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If I were that food vendor, and Kong started popping out with these little nuggets while Arthit just kept threatening him, their business would be all up in the group chat because I'd be messaging all my friends that these two gay guys were practically foreplaying right in front of my salad pork skewers.
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So of course Arthit would show up to the game just to stand there and glare at a man drenched in sweat from playing a hard game of basketball like the internalized-homophobic asshat he is.
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God, some things never change.
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WE GOT COCA-COLA MONEY?!
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I gasped not because of the note on this conversation but because of the comment coming from AN OPENLY GAY MAN on the hazers squad. I am not Thai, so the only way I can relate to the hazers is through Greek life (fraternities and sororities), and even a long long time ago, I knew openly gay men in frats, and they pulled ALL the girls since girls felt safer around them than the straights, but the look Prem and Arthit are giving Tuta when he says this is what I'm laser-focused on because they show toleration rather than acceptance. I'm taking those looks personally.
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Arthit continues to say Kong's face is annoying, but he never says it's ugly. Sir, I see your gay awakening on the horizon.
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AND M WITH THE FUCKING LOOKS AGAIN! He is looking at Kong on stage then looking at May looking at Kong on the stage, and I know where this is going, but my god does it feel like M is sad because he believes Kong is straight and wouldn't reciprocate the feelings he has for his best friend SINCE JUNIOR HIGH!
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I have made it clear that I do not like Krist (I believe his acting is flimsy but I can't even act like I like people, so who am I to judge), but I don't think the people behind the filming of this show liked him either because these opening title cards between the parts of the episodes are doing him dirty.
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Excuse me, little stage presenter, I need to know what the fuck was going on with this performance that they had a western theme with modern guns. Was it Big Sean's "I Don't Fuck With You"?
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And why is Jan looking like Taylor Swift in "Teardrops On My Guitar"? This show was in 2016, but the styling and hair are in 2003.
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Now the judges are coming for Kong, and Lord knows he is going to answer in the most uncontroversial way because Kong refuses to pick a side against hazing and the boy he likes being punished by.
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*eye roll* I did not think I'd make it here this quickly, but I'm on Arthit's side because Kong IS annoying. Jan's character looks full-on Stockholm Syndrome into the camera when Kong is answering, yet homeboy is just over there giving the most ridiculous reason of "our hazers have their reasons for hazing us" and now I see the direct line to GMMTV forgiving parents for abuse (Double Savage!).
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Kong can play basketball really well. He remembers everyone's name. The whole class wanted him to be president. He is great in school. Now he is the Freshy Moon. Marsha, Marsha, Marsha. I hate this kid.
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M, my most beloved, now I see why you're quiet a lot.
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I appreciate M for also stating that Kong is just great at everything without trying, but it also feels that he is hyping up his boy because he has been IN LOVE WITH HIS SINCE JUNIOR HIGH!
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In a room full of people, only Kong notices that M is unhappy, and now I see the direct they-are-married-but-not-a-couple line to Peaceful Property. New understands these roles well.
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THE QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERS! Can you run 54 laps, Arthit? Can you squat 200 times, Prem? These freshmen won everything, yet Arthit is still being a dickwad, and he just got his ass off of school probation. Bold move, sir! I want the juniors to suffer. Except for Bright. My boy has never done anything wrong, and if he did, he didn't.
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I saw an umbrella in The Ex-Morning pilot trailer, and if that show doesn't give me a scene of these two arguing in the rain over the dumbest shit, then what is the point?
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All those people watching Arthit, and none of his boys could run with him? If the purpose of hazing is unity, obviously the juniors didn't get that memo when they were being hazed as freshmen, so why continue the traditions that they don't even abide by?! Arthit is better than me because I would have crawled my ass back to my dorm before accepting their help SINCE THEY DIDN'T EVEN RUN LAPS! And now this little freshman wants to be up in his face. What's the point of the umbrella now?! He is a boy in a BL who has been in the rain for hours. HE IS ALREADY GOING TO DIE NO THANKS TO YOU UNHELPFUL DOUCHE NOZZLES!
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I was just on Arthit's side, but then the show decided to tell me that entire seniors-hazing-the-juniors thing was a setup, and mixed with most of the images on Arthit's door being black-and-white, and one of those images being Charles Manson's Rolling Stone cover, I'm back to hating him again. So in case anyone is still following along, I now hate both of the leads. Can I get M and Bright back?
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Kong says several times that Arthit can punish him, then he irons Arthit's clothes. If this show would just lean into the kink of it all, I would embrace everything about it. If Kong could just be a masochist dom, I would be delighted. JAPAN, COME HERE RIGHT NOW! Fuck remaking Love in the Air! Remake this kinky shit instead!
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This is what a sado sub looks likes and Japan would know exactly what to do with him. Now I'm mad that I'm watching the babygirl-fication of a perfectly good jerk.
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Well hello there you two! You wanna make out before going to the hospital? Maybe keep it all a secret from everybody else? I'm so pissed that I can't remember this plot now because I don't think they will be a thing BUT THEY WOULD BE PERFECT!
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And I'm still rooting for my boy M to get his best friend since unlike Arthit, M can at least acknowledge that his friend is pretty to his face. No internalized homophobia here but probably because M isn't even a homo. I've sailed ships with less.
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😬🥴🙃 Thank you subtitler for keeping the word. It's important. So are the looks that I'm taking personally. And BRIGHT IS THE ONE TO SAY IT! So I like M now and only M. Everyone can eat dirt and choke.
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Arthit's nickname means warmth? I'm starting to remember why I forgot this show. Like Celine Dion, "It's All Coming Back to Me Now"
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And I hate it.
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uniquexusposts · 3 days
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Her || Charles
Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 27/? Word count: 3414 Co writer: @mistrose23
Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so? Note: Italian is not our first language, we're trying our best to translate the sentences to Italian :)
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Previous chapter
Chapter 25. F1 Giggles & Tea... Espresso
"Hello, hello," the blonde hostess said into the microphone, opening the podcast.
The brunette smiled. "Hello, it has been a while," she said, looking at her friend. "The last time was around Austria."
"Phew, before the summer break. And a lot has happened since then." The blonde took a sip from her iced coffee. "First of all, we would like to apologise for our absence."
"Yes, absolutely."
"Some personal things happened, summer break, job switches... However, this podcast is about Formula 1, and oh, my god, there's so much tea to spill. Well, espresso. Because this podcast will be all about Monza."
"Welcome to F1 Giggles & Espresso."
The first twenty minutes were all about what had happened from Austria to Zandvoort: the famous Ferrari sandwich in Spielberg, the chaotic race in Silverstone, the DNF race in Hungary, the redemption race in Spa, and the wet race in Zandvoort. And, of course, the needed drama with some drivers (the partner drama during the holiday and the needed rumours of breakups).
"Let's dive into the Monza madness; it's not only Ferrari's home race, but also AlphaTauri's," the blonde said.
The brunette nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "Even though it is also AlphaTauri's home race, I think all eyes will be focused on Ferrari. They might have a chance to do something this weekend."
"I have to say," the blonde said, leaning forward. "I am quite surprised to see the success of Ferrari so far." She was thinking about her next words. "There has been a lot of drama so far, but they are performing, and unlike last year, there is competition with Max."
"The drama," the brunette breathed. "I don't think I have seen a team with this much drama. The sneers during interviews, the behaviour on track... It almost starts to feel like a drama movie."
"But can I say how calm and polite Matilde stayed during those times?"
"Did she? Or was she just uninterested?"
The blonde raised an eyebrow, considering her friend's question. "You think Matilde was uninterested?"
"I mean, it's possible, isn't it?" The brunette shrugged. "She seemed so composed, like nothing fazes her."
"I think you have to do that because it is known that Ferrari came out of a mess. It was a rough start, but I think she's handling everything really well. Look at the crash at Spielberg; she just called Charles and Carlos back."
"I don't know..." The girl with the brown hair leaned back on her chair. "I mean, I don't think she is suited for the role." She crossed her arms. "She looks so uninterested, but also like she wants to be popular. I don't think she takes her job seriously. I think she's barely working, and I never see her really do anything on the track."
The brunette squinted her eyes, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do you see Toto working?"
"Well, I feel like he is doing his job right. How often are there discussions in his team, what is shown in the media? And how many of them are affecting the team and the results?"
The blonde leaned forward. "But that's just it, isn't it? Perception versus reality. Just because we don't see Matilde working, which I believe is wrong because she is always working, doesn't mean she isn't. Perhaps her leading style is different from everyone else."
"I can't take her seriously. One moment, she's dancing on a Max song at Zandvoort, or she is constantly laughing, making comments, being popular. And the other moment she's not interested. What is her deal?"
"I think she is very passionate about her job. She's always wearing red nail polish, representing Ferrari. Or she's wearing a red hair tie, or a red bracelet. She is actually having fun at her job and it shows in the results. That moment at Zandvoort, where she's dancing to a Max song... It's just wonderful to see she isn't afraid of showing her fun and excitement at work," the blonde defended Matilde. "She's young, she leads a team her own way, and it works. After Zandvoort, Max has 233 points, Charles has 183 points, Carlos has 179 points, and Checo has 106 points. Red Bull currently has 339 points and Ferrari 362. If we take last year's results, Max was leading with 310 points, Charles had 201 points, Checo had 201 points, and Carlos had 175 points. Red Bull was leading with 511 points and Ferrari 376."
"Hmm-hmm. I haven't heard your point yet. I conclude that Ferrari is not doing a much better job so far."
"You'd think that. But Max has 90 points less than last year, Checo has 95 points less, Charles has 11 points less, and Carlos has four points more. Ferrari is doing a better job, keeping the points away from Red Bull."
The brunette slowly nodded and sighed. "The point of winning a championship is actually to win as many races as possible. Not to keep points away from each other."
"Taking the points away from the opponent or collecting as many points as possible is both a strategy," the blonde replied and raised her eyebrows, dropping an imaginary bomb.
"Maybe," the brunette said, running a hand through her hair. "For some reason, it's just hard for me to shake off the feeling that she's not cut out for the job. But we will see. Let's see how things play out at Monza. If Ferrari performs well - because Monza and Ferrari don't go together for some reason - then maybe we can give Matilde the benefit of the doubt."
"You," the blonde replied. "You will give her the benefit of the doubt. I think she's slaying, absolutely nailing it so far, and is an absolute girlboss. And it isn't just Matilde who is Ferrari, she has two drivers and an entire team around her."
"But she's on the top of it. If a team doesn't perform right, the first one who will be out is the trainer or leader - football-wise." The brunette shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
The discussion ended, and they switched to a new topic. The two best friends weren't afraid to discuss or share their opinions, even though they would clash with one another.
* * *
Wednesday is only two days away from the weekend. And the day contained stress, pressure, and pure chaos at Ferrari HQ. Many meetings were planned, the drivers were present at the factory for the entire day to fine-tune the car, and everyone was working twice as hard. This had to be their weekend. And they didn't want to have a mediocre weekend; this was about getting everything or nothing.
Matilde came back from a meeting and got into her office. She put her laptop on her desk and let herself fall into the chair. Her brain started to turn into jelly; nothing made sense anymore. With a tired sigh, she ran her hand through her hair. The morning meeting had been particularly gruelling, filled with endless discussions and strategic planning sessions that seemed to stretch on forever. Monza was coming up; everyone basically worked towards this weekend for a year straight. And to top off the meeting, Matilde had a midterm interview, and they cranked up the pressure for Matilde to perform extra well at their home race.
She turned on her computer, and her agenda popped open. A relieved sigh left her mouth when she saw she had no meetings scheduled for the upcoming two hours. It was a rare moment of calm in the team's chaos. Leaning back in her chair, Matilde closed her eyes momentarily, allowing herself to simply breathe.
You know what, she thought, I'm gonna lunch outside of the factory. Matilde logged out and got up from her chair. She doubted taking her work bag with her, but decided not to take it to the lunch spot. All she had to take with her was her phone, wallet, sunglasses, sunscreen and a book. She concluded she had to take a bag with her, so she found a tote bag in her desk drawer.
"I'm going out for lunch," Matilde told Galileo while standing before her desk.
"As you should," Galileo smiled. "How was the meeting?" He leaned back in his chair.
"'Matilde this. Matilde that.' Too much information to keep up with. And it's intense," she breathed. "Matilde just needs an hour off," she emotionlessly smiled.
He smirked. "Welcome to the hell week. Go enjoy your lunch. Rest and recharge well for this week," he said.
"Grazie," she said. "Go take a break, enjoy the sun in peace." Matilde walked through the department and passed the department canteen. "Hey," she greeted her drivers, hanging against the standing table.
"Hello," Carlos said.
Charles turned around, his face lightening up by her presence. It would be the first time they would see each other since Sunday. "Hey," he smiled. "Where are you going?"
"Out for lunch. Want to join?"
His eyes lit up with genuine interest at the invitation. "I'd love to, but I don't think we will get out alive."
Carlos agreed. "It's hectic out there. They say there have been fans here since seven this morning."
Matilde looked impressed. "It feels like we're royals or something."
"This week, we are," Carlos snorted.
"But anyway, I know a secret escape from this park, avoiding everyone. But it's up to you," she offered, leaving the decision up to her drivers. "I'm taking the bike; it's easier to avoid crowds. I'm sure you can ride a company bike for an hour." She waited for a reaction with a warm smile on her face. The Ferrari park was huge, so there were bikes to share within the park to move more efficiently and quickly.
Charles and Carlos exchanged glances, considering Matilde's proposition. The thought of escaping the chaos inside and outside the office was appealing. Carlos raised his eyebrows, leaving the decision to Charles.
"That sounds like a plan. Lead the way, boss," Charles said, looking at her gate a few seconds longer than necessary.
Matilde squinted her eyes for a few seconds before she nodded, pleased that her offer had been accepted. Together with the men, they walked to the ground floor and the back of the office, exiting out of the public sight.
"Can I put this in your bag until we get there?" Carlos asked and showed his pass.
"Sure," she replied and held her bag open. Carlos put his pass in her bag, and Charles did the same.
Carlos inspected her bike. "Nice bike. This isn't one of ours, right?"
Matilde placed her bag in the basket, which was attached to the steer of her bicycle. "Nope, this is my own bike."
"Did you cycle from your home to here?" Charles asked, knowing that would take about 45 minutes.
She nodded. "For days like this, cycling after work is like therapy." She was wearing a blue shirt as a jacket with a white top underneath, so she slipped the shirt off since it would be more pleasant during the bike ride to the cafe. "Ready?" Matilde called out, a playful glint in her eyes.
"You're making it sound like we're about to start a massive mission," Carlos smirked, putting his sunglasses on.
"It's an adventure, Carlos. You have to be ready for it," Charles said, also putting on his sunglasses.
Matilde couldn't help but smile. It was spontaneous, and she liked it. It reminded her of the bike rides with her brothers back home in Denmark. They pedalled away from the main building. Matilde navigated them through the factory park, finding the 'secret' backdoor exit.
As they rode through nature, Matilde couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation wash over her. With each paddle stroke, she felt the weight of the horror meeting lifting from her shoulders. She used to cycle a lot back in Denmark, but she never really realised how comforting it could be. It even made her chuckle; she never thought she would love to cycle for fun.
Matilde led the way; she scanned the surroundings and enjoyed the warm sun on her skin.
Despite their silence, there was an unspoken understanding that they were all enjoying this moment. Charles's face rested with a relaxed look. Carlos was recharging, and they were glad they had left the office.
Eventually, they reached their destination. The cafe was located on the border of a small village, so it was quite an unknown spot—but once you knew, you knew. The owners prefer to advertise by word of mouth, so it stays local.
The three people parked their bikes and made their way to the entrance, a shed. It looked like the cafe owner had renovated the shed in their backyard to start a cafe. Carlos and Charles were leading, also taking in the new surroundings and being impressed by the small place.
Charles saw the waitress behind a coffee machine. He put his sunglasses on his hair and was about to greet her so he could take the lead. But before he could say anything, the woman cut him off, whose eyes lit up when she saw the guests.
"Matilde, ciao!" the young woman greeted. She seemed to know Matilde. "È bello vederti qui. Come stai?" (Matilde, hello! It's nice to see you here. How are you?)*
Charles closed his mouth and looked at the young woman and then at Matilde. Carlos raised his eyebrows and expected Matilde to go into full panic mode. Also, they both expected a crazy 'omg, you are Leclerc, Sainz and Jørgensen' attack by the look the woman gave, but that didn't happen as well.
"Ciao, Cecilia," Matilde brightly smiled. Cecilia walked around the counter and kissed Matilde on the cheek. "Bene, grazie. Sono occupato al lavoro adesso. E tu, come stai?" Matilde felt proud. She was aware that Charles and Carlos were beside her, and she also was aware that she never spoke Italian around them. (Hi, Cecilia. Fine thanks. I'm busy at work now. And how are you?)
"Bene, bene. È una mattinata molto tranquilla, per fortuna. Oh, grazie per aver aiutato mia nonna con la spesa. Ama la tua compagnia," Cecilia said. (Very well. It's a very quiet morning, fortunately. Oh, thanks for helping my grandmother with the groceries. She loves your company)
"Sí, certo, non è un problema," Matilde told her. "lo aspetto sempre con ansia." (Yes, of course, it's not a problem. I always look forward to it.)
Impressive looks grew on Carlos and Charles' faces, and they looked at each other, not expecting this. What else was she hiding? Since when could she hold a conversation in Italian?
"Ancora, grazie," Cecilia said and then she looked behind Matilde. "Como posso aiutarla?" (Thank you again. How can I help you?)
"Ah, sí," Matilde nodded. "Avete un tavolo per tre, per favore?" (Oh yes. Do you have a table for three please?)
"Certo, abbiamo un tavolo fuori,," Cecilia suggested. (Of course, there's a table outside)
"Perfetto, grazie," Matilde thanked her. (Perfect, thanks)
They walked over to a free table. The only other people present were two elderly men who didn't even seem to bother to look at the trio.
"Hello, since when do you speak Italian this well?" Carlos asked, as he took it very personally.
Matilde only proudly smiled; it started off as a confident smile but slowly turned into a shy smile because both the guys proudly looked at her. "Well, yeah, I've been practising. But this is all I know, so please, no complicated questions."
He held up his hand. "Very good, mate," he said.
She gave Carlos a high five. "Grazie."
"You will get there," Charles smiled. "How do you know this spot?"
"Cecilia is the grandchild of my neighbour. And once a week, I will do the groceries together with my neighbour and visit this cafe for her grandchild. Her grandmother also helps me with Italian, so yeah," Matilde shared.
"That is adorable."
At first, the ambience between the three was a bit stiff. They had ordered a drink and something to eat, but they didn't know what to talk about for some reason. Within Ferrari, there was an unspoken rule not to discuss anything about racing when you would lunch outside of the factory. But if you had lunch planned for work, then it was obviously standard to talk about work. Matilde looked around, enjoying the sun, while Charles and Carlos were unsure what to say. They looked at each other, waiting for the first one to say something.
"Who will you bring to the race?" Matilde then asked when the coffees were served. She softly gasped. "Or is that a race-related question?"
"Well..." Carlos hummed. "It's a close call." He smiled. "The usual," was his answer. "My family and girlfriend."
Matilde nodded. "Sweet," she smiled and shifted her eyes to Charles, waiting for his answer.
"My family, as well; mum and brothers. And, of course, Joris and some other friends," he replied. "Well, Arthur has to race, obviously."
"And what about you? Will your family be there?" Carlos curiously asked.
Charles observed Matilde. "I've never seen your family at the track before."
An awkward laugh left her mouth. "Yeah, that's true. My oldest brother went to Silverstone, but that didn't really happen. And my dad was at Spa with me. But my entire family will be at Monza, so I'm really looking forward to that."
"Why haven't they been at a race before? If you don't mind me asking," he continued to ask. Matilde barely shared anything about herself; she was really private. It was not like Charles was noisy, but he was curious since she had met his family, Carlos' family, and other families.
"They have to work," she replied and shrugged. "They can't take a random weekend off and travel to another country. Plus, they have their own responsibilities."
"Oh, yeah, I get it. What do they do for a living?" Carlos asked.
A smile curved on Matilde's lips, the question cheered her up, distressed her a bit. Talking about her family made her proud. "My mother is a senior flight attendant, my father is a history professor at the university, Jens works for the army, and Lars is a press officer and a teacher at the uni for a communications study."
"Wow, that's interesting. I didn't expect that," Carlos replied. "I don't know what I expected, though," he laughed. Matilde and Charles laughed along with him. "I'm happy they will be there for you."
They chatted for a bit longer about their families, keeping the conversation light and easygoing. Then, their lunch was served.
Carlos got up and excused himself when he had to go to the toilet.
"Oh," Matilde mumbled when she felt the sunburn on her skin. She reached for her bag and grabbed the sunscreen. Charles looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "My Danish skin is not made for this Italian sun," she said.
"Still not used to it?" Charles asked.
"I'm almost used to the heat now, but my skin refuses to do that," she said, spraying some sunscreen on her arms and neck. even though it wasn't sunscreen for her face, she put some of it on her face. Matilde passed the bottle over to Charles. "I know it's Ferrari week, but let's not make it physical." She noticed that Charles was kinda confused about why she handed the bottle to him. "You need protection, too, Charles. Even if you are already tanned."
He looked impressed at her, but he showed a warm smile.
"And I've seen some summer photos of you on Instagram... Ferrari style," she cheekily said.
"So you look at my Instagram?"
"Your posts show up on my feed, yes," she mumbled, looking away from him. The way he smiled at her, made her blush.
"Hah," Charles said, putting on some sunscreen. "For you, I will do it." He took off his sunglasses so he could put some on his face.
"I'm glad." Matilde looked at him. "You have some..." She pointed at her own cheek, but she pointed out the sunscreen on Charles' cheek.
Charles rubbed his fingers under his cheek. "Gone?"
"No," she chuckled. "Come here."
She leaned over the table and gently wiped the sunscreen off his cheek with her thumb. Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still for a moment.
"Thanks," Charles said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Matilde nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anytime."
Just as quickly as the electricity between them appeared, the moment passed, and they both pulled away. Charles cleared his throat, put on his sunglasses and continued his lunch. Matilde looked down and put on her sunglasses again. There was silence between them, not knowing what to say now. Matilde almost didn't remember how to breathe normally without sounding weird.
Carlos returned, seeing the awkwardness between Matilde and Charles. He flashed them a curious look. Matilde gave Charles a side eye; to her surprise, Charles did the same.
"So, what did I miss?" Carlos asked, taking his seat again.
"Nothing, really," Charles replied.
"Here," Matilde said, giving Carlos the bottle of sunscreen. "Protect yourself from the sun."
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees
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mekanikaltrifle · 3 days
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Everyone who's ever worked in retail has their baffling stories about customers, and I have one I think you may enjoy.
About six years ago, I was working in a well-known UK cancer charity's shop. Lots of those here in the British Isles and usually they're frequented by anyone looking for weird old stuff or students, or the perpetually skint. Pretty standard stuff, and I liked the clientele because many were very polite and friendly eastern europeans.
The ones in the clientele I didn't like were the locals, amusingly enough. This being a town in the foothills of Perthshire, the locals were almost always weirdo upper class Scottish and English people who just did not know how to behave right. (and I once dated someone from there so I can confirm: they're just weirdos out there).
One day I'm standing in the shop, behind the till, as one does. Even then I was androgynous in whatever way I could be, barring the 3-foot long hair I was sporting at the time. (not joking; it was very, very long. kind of metalhead style though, not carefully maintained.)
This man, maybe in his forties comes in. And he starts hanging about near the till. Now, there's a jewellery display inset into the till so I assume he's wanting to take a look at one of the watches and so on, so I ask him if he's interested in anything in there. He looks at me and says something to the effect of: "Hmm, no, I'm actually in the market for something else."
So me being a polite cashier, I'm like "Oh, well what is it and maybe I can see if we have it in?"
He responds. "No, I'm actually in the market for a wife."
I'm maybe 23 at the time, mind. And I'm just baffled at the audacity. I wonder if it's the setup for a joke, and then decide this isn't a man I'd like to hear the punchile from anyway. So, I respond:
"Oh! Me too."
Now, again, I am dressed pretty lazily. There's no uniform in places like these and most of the staff are volunteers. Band shirt, flannel over the top, huge baggy black jeans and black trainers. No makeup or anything like that, and I think I look pretty gay. I thought that was obvious. He didn't.
"Uh, um-- don't you mean a husband?" He stammers at me, apparently blindsided. I know this guy's not gonna buy anything by this point and I mostly want him to go away for creeping on me, so I am like... ready to miraculously 'find something to do' in the back room by this point. I want it finished.
So, I conclude with "Y'know, I've heard a lot about those and how much trouble they can be. No thanks, I think I'll stick with a wife."
He didn't stick around for long after that, and I never saw that man again in the shop. I sometimes think about the kind of cockiness it takes to try that on a 20-something cashier in a fuckin charity shop, but yknow, apparently some just do not know when to flirt appropriately. Still proud of myself for handling it though. :D
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eventide-imp · 9 months
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Anyone wanna come stare forlornly at the wall with me?
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