#export volume

[hplonesomeart]

He won’t let me leave him alone for less than two hours

….anyways so how have you guys been doing?

(Audio from Heathers the Musical)

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

I have been exporting the audio wrong this whole time I- anyway. All posts from here on will have the correct setting :)

*edit. The post right before this does have the correct settings and the new equalizer stuff. If it sounds slightly better, that’s why.

[m0e-ru]

28 seconds of bullshit when i wanted the two second punchline itsok .im not finishing this

[itzphynix]

// Ear strain/volume warning. I realized I can do fucking whatever, including evil stuff. Made in reference to this post.

[flamingwell]

Making Your Podfic (especially with Music and/or Sound Effects) More Accessible and Listener Friendly

So you're planning to make a podfic with music and/or sound effects, and you want to think about ways to make it more accessible? Awesome!! This will guide you through some steps you can take to make your podfic more accessible, some of which will also make for a more pleasant listening experience for listeners without accessibility needs, but the focus will primarily be on accessibility. Some of this will also be applicable to podfics with multiple recording sessions without music or sound effects, but again, that's not the focus.

What's the number one thing you can do to make your podfic with music and/or sound effects more accessible to those with noise sensitivity, auditory processing conditions, who are somewhat hard of hearing, or other auditory accessibility needs?

MAKE A CLEAN VERSION, with NO music or sound effects! This can be a very easy change to your process for most people! After editing out mistakes and doing your audio clean up but before you add music or sound effects, simply export your audio. Upload it wherever you upload your final version, drop in a second link to the no music/sound effects version, and that's it! Of course, this may not be trivial for some people, depending on your individual process or other factors. I hope you will decide that it's worth doing anyway. As someone with audio accessibility needs myself, I can tell you it makes a HUGE difference. There are podficcers I love who I can't listen to some of what they've recorded because there's no version without music/sound effects, or sometimes I can only listen on a good day. There are fics I love where there's a podfic version, but I will never be able to listen to it because there's more music/sounds effects than I can handle. This one change will make people like me VERY happy and will expand your audience!

Secondly, especially if you've got a lot of audio dynamics (really quiet whispery bits and also really loud shouty bits), be sure to use the Compressor tool. Long story short, the compressor makes the actual noise level of the quiet bits louder and the loud bits quieter, while still leaving the impression of whispering or shouting. In other words, keep the emotion, but don't force your listeners to keep changing the volume on their headphones/speakers/hearing aid to be able to hear what you're saying or avoid getting their ears blown out (very useful for other listeners too, especially people listening on headphones or in the car). A quick overview of how to use the Compressor settings (this is for Audacity, which is what I'm most familiar with, but most audio editing tools will have something similar):

Threshold: how loud do you want to go before starting to make things quieter?

Make-up gain: after compressing the loud bits down, how much do you want to make everything louder to make up for it?

Knee width: how quickly and starkly do you want the compression to apply? At 0db, this will be a very sharp change. Lower levels will lead to less sharp changes

Ratio: for the loud bits that are getting compressed, how much compression should be applied? The higher the Ratio the more the loud parts of the audio will be compressed.

Okay, but maybe you want to ALSO make the version with music and/or sound effects more accessible, since that's your vision for the podfic and you want as many people as possible to be able to experience it? Great! PLEASE still make a version without music/sound effects as noted above, because even doing everything you can won't be enough for everyone. But it's also great to do what you can to make your music/sound effects version accessible for those that are able to enjoy it with some changes. So….what are some things you can do?

As much as possible, avoid putting music or Foley over your words. For people with audio processing issues especially, it can be very difficult to parse words when there's background music (and especially background music that itself has words).

If you're going to have music or Foley over words, make sure the words are significantly louder than the music. You can use the Analyze Contrast tool (in the Analyze menu in Audacity) to compare the relative loudness of two selections.

For music or Foley between words (like in a section break), make sure it's not too much louder or softer than the sections that come before and after. Again, use that Analyze Contrast tool to compare selections.

You can also use Analyze Contrast to even out the sound between recording sessions!

For sound effects that modify your voice, go only to the point where your voice still sounds very intelligible to you. Someone with auditory accessibility needs will likely struggle with intelligibility well before someone without those needs.

Hope this was helpful!

(This is written from my perspective as someone who has audio accessibility needs, as well as being a podficcer myself. Beta help and additional thoughts from @writerproblem193 @keriarentikai @xiaokuer-schmetterling and others not on Tumblr. But this is not The Definitive Guide To Accessibility or anything, so please add your perspective!)

[wndaswife]

trying your hardest | wanda maximoff & gn!reader

After moving to America to join the Avengers, Wanda wants to finally make a friend to ease her loneliness. She hopes to become friends with you, and frankly, Wanda idolizes you, but her social skills are... subpar at best.

Word count: 5020

Tags: fluff, humour, some angst, emo wanda being a baby, a little thing, a small very tiny little thing, wanda has a very big crush on you :3 (she doesn't know it yet tho cuz she baby)

A/N: for plot purposes, imagine the avengers didn’t have a catfight after aou

gif credit to (i tried really hard and i CANNOT find who made this gif im sorry)

Wanda Maximoff never really had an education as a child. What education was available in Sokovia was expensive, and despite her father’s late working hours, the twins’ parents could only ever afford their apartment’s rent. The twins were homeschooled as well as their parents could teach them, but after the bombing, they were on their own. 

Government-funded schooling helped them for only so long. The schools they were sent to were decaying, and always under dwindling government watch from ongoing airstrikes. The ground shook with explosive tremors as they commuted to school on foot. Wanda and Pietro stayed at an orphanage with hundreds of other children whose parents had passed due to the war — and the Avengers. 

Even the government’s debt caught up with what was left of Sokovia. Billions of foreign debt not paid, volume of imports that had increased exponentially since Sokovia worked on rebuilding their country weren’t making enough revenue to pay exporters back. Hundreds of children were booted from government care and onto the streets. The twins attempted to learn on their own, to become informed educated people if they were to ever make a difference in the world, but in Sokovia, even resilience could only get one so far.

Then, Doctor Strucker came along, promising them the extermination of the Avengers, the Western terrorists who had made the already politically-unstable and war-torn country their battleground. 

In hopes to cure the world from their terrorist reign, both Wanda and Pietro agreed to Strucker’s experiments, but the education they were given intended for them to become weapons. They knew little of real geography and world history — only HYDRA’s propaganda meant to poison their minds with blind hatred and little else.

When it seemed like you couldn’t be any more different from Wanda as it was, you were also the team’s brain. Stark and Banner specialised in physics and mechanics, but you were the team’s hub for everything else. From computer science to philosophy, you knew everything. No one exceeded you in developing team strategy, setting the stages for mission locations, profiling adversaries, and a dozen of other things Wanda couldn’t have even fathomed when she first met the Avengers in person.

It took Wanda only several moments to realise you weren’t a frontline fighter from your muffled voice in the Avengers’ earpieces to their callouts of your name as frequent, and perhaps even moreso, than their teammates that fought alongside them on the field despite your physical absence. 

Y/N — that was your name. 

When she had fought the Avengers in Novi Grad, creeping behind the Western superpowers like a heavy looming shadow, Wanda had looked for you. Strategically, it was a rational move. You were the centre of their battle, the heart of their teamwork.

And yet, you were nowhere to be found.

It was only until she had crept up behind Clint Barton when your voice grew clearer than ever before. From the tiny earpiece, you were controlling the field. Perhaps you were just outside, or maybe you were in another country. No matter the distance, Wanda supposed your hold on the battle would be no less effective. 

It was the distraction of thinking about you, perhaps — Y/N, the invisible hand — or Barton’s sole intuition, Wanda did not know, nor did she have very much time to think it over, that had made it possible for him to counter her magic. 

Then there was pain — immeasurable pain that Wanda hadn’t felt since Strucker’s experiments. It shot through her forehead like a dozen bullets had permeated through her skull. Pietro grounded her, and soon after, the twins targeted Banner.

Despite the rumours about him, the insatiable angry force he was told to be, his mind was the easiest to corrupt. Mental instability and insecurity racked his mind, and he quickly shifted into the green beast the Maximoffs had heard so much about. 

Carrying his younger sister, Pietro took the two of them back to Ultron’s base. 

They had won that day.

You were all Wanda could think about even while she and Pietro were off missions. You weren’t the Avengers’ frontline defence like Steve Rogers, nor were you the brute strength of the team like Bruce Banner. You held your team in your hands rather than tugging them along by their leashes although you likely could if you wanted to.

Y/N. 

Who were you?

On the television after the fight on Novi Grad, Iron Man and Hulk’s brawl in Johannesburg was on the news. The city was in shambles. Pietro said something about the deaths of innocents and the success of his sister’s magic in having the Avengers turn against themselves. But Wanda could only think of what you had thought when Stark and Banner came back to their compound, beaten and sore from none other than their own fists. Wanda assumed the Avengers’ compound — wherever that was — was where you were too. 

Wanda wondered how you were dealing with the fight at Johannesburg. What were you saying about her and Pietro?

Later that day, Ultron approached the twins in their bedroom and turned on the television. Despite having been offered separate bedrooms, they insisted on sharing one. Sitting atop their respective beds on the opposite sides of the room, there was someone speaking on the television about Johannesburg across from the interviewer. Their expression was stern but their eyes were solemn. Eyebrows were furrowed together, masking concern and worry; if Wanda knew anything, it was how to read someone.

“Y/N,” the interviewer began, and Wanda’s eyes widened, her head lifting from being held up by her hands, elbows on her pillow as it laid flat atop her crossed legs. “As the Avengers’ strategist, as many put it, how are you planning on handling the devastation that came upon Johannesburg, and the inevitable contact that the Avengers will continue to have with innocent uninvolved civilians?”

The question was packed, and the news station quite clearly had their own sentiments about the Avengers; they were setting you up.

So that was how you looked. Wanda swallowed and felt her chest flutter.

With your upper lip stiff and your posture unbelievably straight, you answered without equivocation. “A common misinformed perspective of any conflict follows the belief that there is any one party entirely responsible for the consequences of violent confrontation, such as the one we witnessed in Johannesburg,” you were saying. With the way her wide eyes were pinned on the television screen, Wanda didn’t notice the way her brother eyed her obviously piqued interest.

“I don’t believe the Avengers are the world’s most honourable superheroes,” you continued. Ultron shifted and Wanda’s head tipped to the side, her interest in you ever growing. “I don’t think anyone is, no matter whose side you’ve taken since the conflict recently — and perhaps even after the invasion of New York’s in 2012.”

That was The Incident, Wanda recalled, when the Avengers terrorised New York. That’s what HYDRA had always told her and Pietro.

“Despite whose side you may be on, as differing as our collective opinions may be, one thing is undeniable — we are all trying to reach a goal of peace for the world, fighting for what we believe is just. There is nothing more powerful than that. Perhaps, it is idealism that serves to be the strength of humanity.”

Ultron laughed morosely. He ridiculed your words, but Wanda wasn’t listening. Whatever you were talking about wasn’t only about Johannesburg. What were you referencing? Who were your words meant for?

Suddenly, your head turned to the camera and Wanda met your eyes. Everything in her froze, her eyes undeviating from your face.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” you spoke. Pietro looked over at Wanda, shock written on every inch of his face, and Ultron’s eyes darted between the twins, almost accusationally as he undoubtedly suspected coercion. Wanda almost expected you to step through the television screen and into her bedroom. “I know what you want.”

The screen was shut off suddenly, the black mirror of the television reflecting Wanda’s astonished expression. She looked away, shutting her eyes as she felt the burning gaze of Ultron on her. But your words reverberated in Wanda’s mind until your every feature and movement of your lips was memorised. Like a promise, like an ode, your words were immortalised within her.

Pietro wasn’t there when you took Wanda in your arms and saved her from a falling Sokovia. He wasn’t there when you laid her down onto the Helicarrier, nor when you took her hand and told her she’d be taken care of. Wanda cried into your chest at the sight of her brother’s body.

What would he have said if he saw the way your arm refused to leave from around Wanda’s shoulders as the two of them trailed behind his body while he was carried into the compound?

Pietro liked you, and would’ve loved to meet you. He referenced your broadcasted interview several times during their fight in Sokovia. He was proud to work with the Avengers, and proud to finally work towards their goal to help people just like them. He wanted to meet you.

Your voice was different from what Wanda remembered from the broadcast, and not because her memory had failed her, but because you were just… different. You were real, and not a picture on a wall or an untouchable reality forever separated from her by a television screen. As she watched you talk and laugh with the other Avengers, you were real.

But if Wanda was honest, she was much too shy to even start a conversation with you. Perhaps it might’ve been easier to approach you if you were an admired character on one of her favourite television shows, but it was exactly what made her admire you so much that also made her feel so shy around you. 

Granted, there was much to adjust to now that she lived in America and was now a part of the Avengers, and she did believe herself to be a generally introverted person, but she was especially nervous around you.

Wanda had gotten enough confidence to speak with some team members. Natasha was welcoming and kind. Thor was easy not to feel nervous around, but his energy was far too much for Wanda to handle just yet. Bruce was much more comfortable to chat with, and Wanda found that he was able to be rather nice once he forgave her for her associations with Ultron. Steve was always very kind to Wanda and she felt very safe around him, with Steve always trying to make her feel like part of the team, but she found that they didn’t have very much in common.

And there was Vision, who seemed to have taken a liking to her since even before the final battle against Ultron. He was nice company, but she found her mind preoccupied thinking of you while in his company, wishing that it was you who gave her as much attention as Vision did.

However, she’d been wanting to start a conversation with you since the day she arrived at the compound. Initially, she needed time to herself, and along with Steve, you also made the effort to check in on her and give her your support.

Once she was finally able to gain some footing in adjusting to things while shouldering the weight of her losses, Wanda started becoming more active within the team by joining training sessions. During them, she found herself unable to stop looking at you, watching what you were doing, seeing how you interacted with everyone.

Even as the Avengers’ primary strategist that was almost never in the field, you still made efforts to train and stay connected and involved with the team — and Wanda quickly learned that training was a major part of team building.

You were everything Wanda wished she could be more like; you were the kind of person she had never thought existed in a world she believed was only full of cruelty and injustice until recently.

There was an upcoming party at the Avengers Tower in celebration of the assigned team’s return from a successful mission tracking down a recently-located HYDRA base still hiding out. It was almost any ordinary mission, but it was the first step towards steadily eradicating all of HYDRA’s bases, even after Strucker’s primary base was taken down in Sokovia. Though Steve did also tell Wanda that he felt that Tony also primarily wanted to find any reason to celebrate since it’d been some time.

Wanda hadn’t been to any of the parties yet, and she thought that she’d be able to use this one as a chance to start a conversation with you. 

Wasn’t that what people did at parties? Talk?

Truthfully, she didn’t quite know for sure — she’d only ever heard about them through the sitcoms she watched as a child. She knew only of dramatised American portrayals of teenage parties through television.

Whatever it was people actually did at parties, Wanda was certain she would be able to make some effort to talk to you. At least in a social setting, it wouldn’t be strange for her to start a conversation with you.

Wanda made herself look nice and presentable, but not too formal since she didn’t want to overdress or bring too much attention to herself. She wasn’t sure what might happen if her plan to talk with you didn’t end up working, and if she was somehow left with nothing to do, she wanted to be able to slip away without anyone noticing, as if she had never made any attempt to come at all.

While deliberating whether it was better to arrive on time or a bit later once the party had been going on for some time, Wanda realised that at some point too much time had passed and her only option now was to join the party a bit later. 

It was only once she arrived at the penthouse floor where the party was being held that Wanda finally realised how terribly  thought-out her plan was.

What would happen if she didn’t get to talk with you? What would happen if she did, and she only made a fool of herself? Would it be better, then, to stay as two people who’d never conversed so that she might retain what impression you had of her now? Even if that meant she would never get to talk with you the way she wanted?

It was far too late now to change her mind if she wanted to, as she soon found herself walking further from the elevators and into the party. 

The party was rather filled; mostly, they were familiar faces, but it looked like many brought guests, and some guests had brought some of their own. It seemed that Steve was right — atop of celebrating the taking down of the HYDRA base, this was also a social get-together. 

She was still relatively at the edges of the room, so she was still going unnoticed. As she walked over to the bar, fidgeting with her fingers as she did, she took the time to look around and try to spot you. She reached the bar, crossing her forearms on top of its counter, and tried to draw the least attention to herself while avoiding eye contact with anyone as her eyes raked through the crowd. 

Eventually she caught sight of you also at the bar, but at the very edge with your own drink, your back facing the party. Wanda’s chest fluttered and she felt she nearly stumbled moving one foot in front of the other when she turned to walk towards you. 

She worried what would happen if someone suddenly approached you from behind, which would force her to then stop wherever she was standing and pretend she hadn’t just failed at her attempt to come up to you. 

The pressing concern aided her greatly, and she was well on her way to coming up to you without hesitation. But once she actually made her way to your side and once you raised your head from your glass and looked at her, Wanda damned herself for being so distracted, now without a plan or even a terribly-planned script to follow in making conversation with you. She didn’t even get to look at what you were wearing. 

It would be too strange of her to look you up and down before greeting you, right?

“Hi,” she said, hoping that the small smile she felt on her face was actually there lest she look like an absolute fool.

You turned around in your seat in order to face her, and now having your complete, undivided attention made Wanda’s legs feel like mush. “Hi,” you replied with a friendly smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a party yet.”

Wanda swallowed and nervously drew shapes against the bar counter with her fingernails, also trying her best to maintain a steady, friendly smile. “No — this is the first I’ve gone to. I haven’t been here for very long. I decided only a moment ago to come.”

“I’m glad you chose to come,” you told her and suggested for her to take the barstool beside you. Wanda lifted herself onto the seat and sat, facing you.

While you were talking, Wanda took the chance to look at what you were wearing. You looked nice, and Wanda thought you always dressed in a way that put-together, respected people did. She saw you in some likeness to the well-dressed characters on the sitcoms she liked — but, of course, modern. 

Maybe she had been taking too long to respond, for you spoke again: “How have you been doing? I know that the move must have been rather hard to go through.”

When she took a moment to respond and found that a response wasn’t immediately escaping her, Wanda felt panic settle in her chest. She knew she should have planned out what to say. She looked like an idiot in front of you. She didn’t know the first thing about socialising or making friends. 

“It was hard,” she said finally. “It is hard. Not so bad now. I mean, I’m trying to adjust.”

You nodded in understanding and Wanda felt herself losing your interest; she was sure that your responses’ intentions were now only to remain polite, to keep conversing with her because you knew she didn’t make very much effort to go out. 

Then you asked, “Did you want me to order you a drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay — I don’t drink,” Wanda answered, fidgeting with her fingers between her knees. Truthfully, she’s never tried alcohol before. Maybe she should have taken you up on your offer. 

“How have you been getting along with the team?”

“I think well. I like everyone. They’ve been very kind to me,” Wanda said. She could hear herself as she spoke to you; she sounded robotic and uninteresting. She thought she might try her hand at being honest about what she was thinking then and there. “But Pietro was always the most social of us both. It is hard to get along with others without him leading the conversation.”

Wanda must have not noticed how solemn she became after she mentioned Pietro, for you reached out and brushed her shoulder with your hand supportively, your fingers squeezing gently around her and lingering for a moment before letting your arm drop.

“I understand,” you sympathised. “You don’t need to pressure yourself into anything — really. I think you fit in here well, and I think you’ve been doing a wonderful job.”

That was the first time anyone truly supported Wanda like that; she was supported by the team as she was grieving the loss of her brother, always being told that she had a shoulder to cry on or a helping hand if she ever wanted someone to talk to. 

There was something frustrating about the way the team approached her grief. They had to have anticipated that she would feel a bit better at some point — or at least well enough to get back to team member material. 

In the way she was spoken to, Pietro and her struggles with his death were always approached as something she would get over at some point or another — like Pietro was something she was going to get over. She didn’t expect anyone to understand how she felt nor to share in her grievances, but it seemed to her that what she was going through was seen only as a temporary distraction to the rest of the team. 

They were kind in giving her their support, but her grief never seemed quite real enough to them. 

Granted, she was rather new to the team, so she understood, to some degree, their inability to understand her pain. But it was frustrating, nevertheless. 

But with you, it was different. 

You didn’t talk about Pietro or her struggles and pain like it was something to get over. You valued her as she was now, and saw her efforts as they were now. 

Wanda felt slightly pathetic for how worked up she was getting over your response, be it as brief as it was, but what you said meant quite a lot to her. She felt, for the first time, that she was being spoken to as a real person rather than a ball of temporary grief and pain. 

“Thank you… I really appreciate–”

She was cut off when you were called to meet one of Tony’s friends, an expert in software development who had even helped program some of the software you used for communication with the team while they were working on the field. Naturally, they wanted the two of you to meet. 

For a moment, Wanda forgot how popular you were amongst your colleagues. Why wouldn’t you be? It was only that you had a certain kindness and authenticity about you that seemed signature to you. But if Wanda admired that about you, and if she idolised you, why wouldn’t anyone else?

You looked at Tony calling you over then at Wanda, who was awkwardly staring at the floor in some pitiful stance of defeat. It made your chest tighten.

This was Wanda’s first time joining in at one of the parties, and you were the first she spoke to. Moreover, there was a kind of sensitivity to her that you knew lay beyond her typical timidity.

Through the conversation with her, you could vaguely see Wanda’s eyes flickering behind your shoulder occasionally, where the floor’s balcony was. From there, one would have a view of the spacious training fields and the expansive forests beyond that separated the base from the main roads.

Tonight, there were clear skies and a rather prominent moon. 

Gently, you tapped the back of Wanda’s hand that was resting on the edge of the bar to get her attention, and she raised her head and met your eyes. 

“Would you like to step out onto the balcony with me?” you asked. “I’m not quite in the mood to talk with them right now.”

Wanda seemed to perk up and she straightened in her seat. She nodded, and when you stepped off from your barstool, she followed and trailed behind you as you headed for the balcony. 

She watched from behind as you led her forward. She played idly with the tips of her fingers as she watched your hair brush against your back, watching the back of your head attentively as if it could tell her anything about you. 

Frankly, she felt a bit starstruck.

A certain panic settled within her as you opened the balcony door and ushered Wanda outside and into the warm evening air; she didn’t know what to say now. 

She wasn’t certain if she was interesting enough at all to have such intimate conversation with. 

What could she say that could possibly be of interest to you?

In spite of the disappointed chatter and lighthearted jabs from the rest of the team in response to your very-obvious aversion to socialising, you closed the balcony door behind you until it clicked shut softly until it was only you and Wanda outside. 

“Is it okay that you’re out here with me?” Wanda asked, looking at you as she stepped beside you. 

“Of course,” you answered and walked forward until you could stand against the rails of the balcony. “Why not?”

Wanda appreciated how easy it was to talk with you, and how your relationship with the team wasn’t all that you were. “I thought that maybe you might prefer being out there.”

“No — I want to be here.”

Wanda flushed and she looked away, using the excuse of looking out past the training fields as an excuse to hide her face from you. 

Making a bold move, Wanda thought that she might be honest with you; she had the real opportunity to make a friend, granted she pulled it off. “Y/N, I really appreciate you being so kind to me.” She garnered some confidence and turned her body and looked at you.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you replied bashfully, and Wanda noticed that you also seemed a bit timid. She thought you were sensitive, and she liked that.

“But also,” Wanda added, taking in a small breath, “I really appreciate your effort in being sympathetic towards Pietro and I, even when we did not deserve it — especially after Johannesburg. Before your interview broadcast, I had never known of such kindness. It seemed you knew more about what Pietro and I wanted before even we did.”

Without a thought behind it, Wanda’s eyes left yours and she added, “I wish he was able to meet you. I am sure he would have felt equally as stunned by you.”

You asked, “I stun you now, do I?”

Surprised by the realisation of what she said aloud, Wanda looked at you and at the sight of your slight smile, also realised that you were teasing her. She flushed and rubbed her warm cheek with the back of her knuckle and distracted herself with two of the party guests walking through the field.

Wanda reminded herself that she came to make a friend — to be friends with you. So she spoke again. “To be honest, yes,” she replied. “I think you are admirable; everyone seems to like you very much, and the kind of bravery and kindness you have is of a kind I did not previously know could ever be sincere.”

She finally said it, and now, Wanda felt anxious about what you might say next.

You shifted and repositioned yourself as you pondered for a moment in consideration. “Well, I have to confess that most if not all of my bravery is rather insincere — I’m truly not as brave as you might think. In fact, I would argue that you’re more brave than I; you’ve experienced so much, undergone so much change, and yet you seem to have more drive than anyone to try your hardest at adjusting and getting back on your feet.” 

You thought she was braver than you? Wanda could collapse. She felt her chest flutter.

“But… the kindness,” you said, “is very sincere. I’m glad you see it that way.”

Wanda found herself stepping closer to you, feeling more comfortable in your company and feeling that she wanted to be closer to you physically, to hear your words within a closer vicinity and to see your face free of the soft shadows that the moonlight casted along the curve of your nose and the angle of your cheekbone. 

“I think you’re really special,” you told her. “I’m happy that you’re a part of the team. I’m glad you’re here.”

In all her life, there was only one place Wanda ever felt she belonged — with her family. Over some time, what this meant was redefined with the bombing of her home when she was ten and, recently, with the loss of her brother. There was a feeling of loss, an empty pit that burrowed itself within the deepest depths of Wanda’s identity where Pietro and her family and some sort of identity should have been.

It was not only others and her country that she lost, but a part of herself, when all the landmarks she had ever belonged to were stolen from her. But if she could learn anything from still being able to stand where she was and try her best and be brave — like you said — in spite of all her loss and grief, it was that she was not all that she identified herself with.

She still existed, and was still worth something, even without all that was lost.

It would be difficult to even begin finding who she was, exactly, without Pietro and Sokovia and her parents and the truths of herself and the world that HYDRA had always taught her. But she hoped that you might be at least the first step to her self-discovery — you were her first friend.

“Are you alright?” you asked, tipping your head down slightly to try getting a better look at Wanda’s face. 

Wanda had lost herself in her thoughts and forgot to reply to you. She must have been silent for a bit of time. “Yes, I’m okay.” She subtly swiped at her cheeks when she realised she was crying — perhaps it was from thinking of her family or of Sokovia, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the moment was that she started crying — as she looked over at the field for a distraction again.

Without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Wanda’s shoulders, bringing her against your body in a soft hug. It was wordless and quiet and casual — support and comfort without any conditions.

Every time Wanda believed that she’d fully grasped the world’s capacity for kindness, believed that there couldn't possibly be something more gentle than what you have thus far shown her, you prove her wrong. 

She hoped she would never be right.

[whoisraii]

☆ WIN IT FOR YOU — LN4

summary: it was his home race and all he wanted to do was win it for you...

F1 MASTERLIST

pairing: Lando Norris x f!reader

word count: 13.8k

cw: slow burn, happy ending, fluff, use of y/n, race calendar skipped after miami <3

note: request on my blog<3 okay this is like the first fic I wrote in months...kinda let my fingers slip...hope I did lando justice with this one 😭...also like the Lando hate is forced in my opinion...like give the guy a break he already has a lot on his plate..

Playlist for this fic <3  - I'd tell you to listen to these because it creates the ambiance better {I wrote while listening to these} so the thoughts run better...

THE SOUND OF FLASH shot in the room echoing on the walls...the air conditioner chilled the room as jacob redefined his pose for the next cover photo…(Y/n) softly hummed as her fingers perfected the shot and another sound of the flash echoed across the room…Jacob clears his throat as she gets lost in the controls of her camera… “You know…we have been here for 4 hours (Y/n)…I think it's time we wrap it up now..don't we?”

(Y/n) sighed as she nodded… “Yeah..good idea..I’ll go home load these up on my laptop and get them done by tomorrow..how does that sound?” Jacob nodded and got out of the chair and walked to the nearby table and uncapped a disposable bottle and gulped half of it down in one go… The sound of zips was heard as (Y/n) packed up all the equipment and slinged her duffel bag across her shoulder as she walked downstairs from the studio…

Her consciousness was pretty blurred due to the earphones blaring music at full volume in her ears as she took out her umbrella and shook it open putting it above her head as she began to walk across the street while scrolling on her feed…Suddenly a horn blared up and (Y/n)’s eyes widened…she looked to her left and it was almost too late…the car was just too close… (Y/n) groaned as it hit her almost softly, being braked at almost the perfect time…A guy got out of the car as she groaned rubbing her thigh… “If I was you…I’d at least keep one ear open while scrolling like that in the middle of the street” The guy said in one go…He had curly hair..tanned skin…and a look in his eyes she quite couldn’t place a finger on.. “I’m sorry..” (Y/n) mumbled as she looked around…Her eyes fell on the time on her phone screen as it displayed the number 7:30pm boldly on the top of her lockscreen…she fixed herself quickly before muttering an apology to the man and quickly making a run to the bus stop with her umbrella shielding her as much as it could… What had she been thinking when she had told Jacob that she would have given him the photos by tomorrow…hell she didn't even know if she was going to make it to her dorm to finish her assignment and turn it in by the deadline she had…

The bus ride had been really quiet…even with her earphones in her ears…it just wasn't like the other times she took the bus…(Y/n) would be lying if she said that everything felt normal nowadays…in fact if she had to phrase the mental bullshit she had been undergoing…everything felt late, weird, time consuming and unfruitful… Sure she was a perfect student with a part time job as a florist…But it wasn't as easy as she had thought when she had started out…being a history major…oh that was worse… It took her the exact time of an hour and eleven minutes to complete that damn paper that was sitting in her portals with a deadline that was about to end at 57 minutes…she hit submit before opening the editing app before exporting jacob’s photos and getting to work… An hour passed as she finally finished editing half the pictures…(Y/n) groaned as she held her head and rose from her bed and walked herself to the kitchen to get herself a coffee…she was scrolling on her phone while the coffee was being prepped… That’s when he saw him…the same guy from the evening…but..oh..Oh..oh lord what the actual fuck…(Y/n)’s eyes widened… “He’s an F1 driver?” Her mind and mouth spoke at the same time as her brows scrunched and her fingers almost in a trance clicked on the profile by itself…it was the team’s page…the coffee machine dinged as it pulled her back to reality…she took her coffee and dragged herself back to her bed… Pushing the laptop screen open she typed out the name of the team on a web browser…the results flooded in as she read two names side by side… “Lando Norris…Oscar Piastri” Both were F1 drivers and she just so happened to almost get run over by one of them…(Y/n) shrugged as she closed the window…she tucked the laptop back into her backpack as she put it under her bed and pulled the covers on herself…skipping dinner was really normal about her… It just happened one time right? She just happened to be the person who almost got run over by an f1 driver…but would it?...would it really be just one time?

It was a sunday…nothing special…nothing weird…just a normal sunday…(Y/n) had just pulled up to her weekend job at 8am in the morning…She unlocked the shop and smiled as the smell of fresh flowers flooded her nostrils… Every weekend (Y/n) opened up the shop in the morning and the actual owner…her boss…a sweet 68 year old lady she had always called ‘kylie’ would come in late…(Y/n) cleaned up the shelves as she got everything sorted out and ready when suddenly the bell rang and someone stepped in…

(Y/n) had her back turned to the customer as she hummed cleaning the back desk…she let them pick out what they wanted to buy…and finally she heard the ring on the counter indicating that the customer was ready for her to wrap the flowers and help them buy it.. “Hey there! Good morning, what can I help you with…” Raina’s voice faded as her eyes met with the greenish blue orbs staring back at her… “And…we meet again?” Lando smirks as he hands her a handful of roses and daisies… ‘weird match but works’ (Y/n) thought as she bound the flowers and trimmed the stems… “yea…” Raina chuckled “Surprise…I work here..” She huffed out as looked back at him.. “Okay brown paper or a basic cover or a vase? And like do you want a film over it or just for me to bind it up for you?” (Y/n) mumbled out the now very natural question to which Lando quietly replied “Brown…and no film just bind it up..” He gave her a lopsided smile…which (Y/n) gladly returned… A few minutes later (Y/n) was done binding them up..she billed out everything before looking up at him… “Cash or Card?” another trained question leaving her mouth but with a genuine smile ghosting her lips… “Cash..” Lando smiled as she told him the amount to which he handed her that…while the receipt printed out a mentally phrased question made it out of her mouth without even realizing… “Roses and daisies are a weird combination to give to your girlfriend”...Lando chuckled as she said that and her eyes widened… “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…” “don't worry…it didn't offend me…they are for my sister…it's more of an inner meaning kind of thing…it's going to take a lot of time if i'm going to explain it right now…” The sound of the machine whirling beeped as the receipt was finally printed …she tore it off and handed him the receipt… Lando stood there for a second his eyes roaming over the receipt as he gave a nod before starting to walk off…but just as he was about to…he turned around and smiled “looks like someone did their homework…I never told you my name headphone girl” Realization dawned over (Y/n) as she checked the system…she had typed his name like it was a natural habit onto the receipt without even realizing… “See you around!” Three last words she had heard as the bell dings indicating that lando was now gone…and for some stupid reason..she smiled at the roses and daisies the entire day

As time passed..whenever Lando was in town he would just come by and sit for hours with her as she worked her shift on the weekends…Once he had asked her what her favorite flowers were…to which (Y/n) had replied lavenders without a second thought…she loved them…As time passed (Y/n) found herself wrapping a few lavenders for lando almost twice or thrice each week…

“I think I'm starting to like lavenders a bit too…” He would say any time she confronted him about it…Sometimes he would come to buy a bouquet and bring coffee and end up staying there till she would close up…

And just like that Lando Norris became a regular in the shop almost each weekend when he was in town…A few months into Lando being regular..kylie decided to meet the ‘Regular guy who gives me business’ and she loved him…absolutely adored him…maybe even more than she adored (Y/n)...

(Y/n)’s last week of uni was lingering as finals drained her mentally…She had talked to Kylie about being a regular full time for the shop to which Kylie had happily agreed and raised her pay a bit…As she handed in her last exam of her life…she sighed softly closing her pen and holding her head…she was independent..fully independent now…

She had now achieved what she wanted to be since she was 11…to be secure...to be independent…Ever since Lando had entered her life..the monotone feeling had disappeared…she had someone she could rely on genuinely…a close comforting bond built over a concerning amount of cups of coffee and hours of just pure talking about anything and everything in their lives…Lando had managed to get (Y/n) involved in F1 as well…she found herself at 4am waking up to watch the races…in a way it was just her way of showing Lando gratitude for pulling her out of the ditch an year ago…and in another way she had grown a soft spot for the sport…in a way it was comforting even if she was yelling at her screen about the shit strategies ferrari had and how horribly they treated their driver…

“No matter how much I like them…I’d question my existence too if I was Charles…” (Y/n) would say to Lando any time he asked her about why she had a soft spot for the Ferrari team…He had healed her and she would write him a hundred thankyou letters to him…

(Y/n) makes her way out of uni as she takes the bus to the flower shop to see kylie and Lando already waiting for her near the counter…Raina went inside and hugged kylie as kylie handed her the keys to the shop because kylie would be taking a vacation for the next week…a really hard earned one…when kylie walked out (Y/n) turned to Lando and hugged him tightly…

“How was the exam?” Lando smiled softly at her as his arms found her waist wrapping around them tightly returning the hug… “I made it…guess uni is finally over…” The pair decided to sit down behind the counter waiting for any new customers…a few came in and left with their bouquets and just like that…it was closing time…(Y/n) and Lando quickly shut the door off and went to the back rooms so that (Y/n) could pack up.. Lando leans against the shelves, watching her like he always does — quiet, patient, present. The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair. “So… that’s it? You’re officially done?” The words leave Lando's mouth in the softest and most soothing way as the question hangs in the atmosphere as (Y/n) continues packing her bag…she exhales like she has been holding everything in for days…her head bobbs softly as she nods… “Yeah. No more exams. No more weird group projects. No more 3 a.m. breakdowns over citation formats.” A grin spreads across Lando’s face…“I don’t know, I kind of liked those 3 a.m. rants. They were very… expressive.” He fixes his posture as he puts his back on the wall and (Y/n) faces him resting on the shelves…“You liked watching me spiral?” She smirked “Only a little.” The words left Lando’s mouth as they both cracked up a smile which developed into laughter which quickly resided into a comforting silence… “I thought I’d feel more… I don’t know, proud? Relieved? But it’s weird. It’s like everything just got quiet all of a sudden.” (Y/n) shrugs as she looks outside of the window… “It's like…everything just came to a halt and now I'm just…hanging..” 

“Sometimes it takes a minute to catch up to the feeling.” Lando looked down into her eyes as they exchanged a soft understanding smile with each other…(Y/n) knew…(Y/n) knew that Lando wasn't saying much, but he didn’t need to. That’s always been something about him — he listens like it matters.

“I spent so long just trying to get through it all. Like, finish the degree, pay rent, keep everything together. And now that I actually have time to breathe… I don’t really know what to do with it.” Lando shifted his weight, then stepped closer, not too close, just enough…

“Maybe you don’t have to figure it out right away.” A smile ghosted (Y/n)’s face as she smiled up at him…“I’m not great at sitting still.” She muttered out hoping he wouldn't hear her but he did…He always heard her… “You don’t have to sit still. Just… don’t rush past this part, either. You’ve earned some space to not know.” As he said that Lando looked at her with the amount of reassurance that confirmed her that even if it was 4am in the morning and she needed help…Lando would just be a single call away…another soft and comforting silence fell until (Y/n) decided to break it… “Thanks for showing up today. I didn’t even ask.” She looked up at him…a soft gloss on her eyes…“You never have to.” Lando replied, staring into her eyes with the most soft smile he had ever given anyone…

The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair.

“I like being here. With you.” Lando said looking at the sunset…(Y/n) smiled softly as she slinged her bag on her shoulders…“I like you being here too..” They hold the silence for a moment — not awkward, not unsure. Just comforting and still…

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat. Real food. No more skipping dinner.” (Y/n) groaned as she finally chuckled before saying “Alright, alright. But only if I get to pick.” “I’ve already accepted defeat.” Lando says as he puts his arms up in a surrendering motion and raina chuckles softly They grabbed their things and walked toward Lando’s car, shoulders brushing as they moved side by side. Outside, the street lights are just flickering on. And for once, everything doesn’t feel late — it just feels right.

The hum of the engine fills the quiet air as the car idles in line. (Y/n)'s window is rolled halfway down, her elbow resting casually on the door. The car smells faintly like her vanilla body spray and Lando’s cologne — a strange but comfortable mix… “You really went for nuggets and fries?” Lando smiles as she looks at her by the side of his eye and focuses back on the road…(Y/n) smiled and turned to him “Do you wanna fight me right now or after I eat?”

Lando chuckles as he parks in the parking lot in front of (Y/n)’s apartment…“Just saying… you’ve got commitment.” (Y/n) smiles as she softly replies back “Exactly. Learn from me.” They both laugh. The kind that escapes easily, no effort, just comfort. (Y/n) quickly opens the bag of food. She passes Lando his drink and then proceeds to pop open the paper bag, and steals a fry before handing him the rest.

“Hey—” Lando chuckles as he speaks up but he is cut off by her voice “Tax.” (Y/n) smiled softly before a silence fell in the car as the duo began to eat in silence until Lando breaked it.. He holds the cup to his mouth as he sucks on the straw and gulps down the drink before looking at her “Do you ever feel like the thing you love the most stops feeling like… yours?” (Y/n) takes her drink and stops mid-sip.. “Where’s that coming from?” It’s almost like Lando can't meet her eyes...He shrugs a bit as he looks out of the window… “Lately racing’s felt… heavy. Not hard, not exhausting — just… like I’m chasing something that’s not even mine anymore. I used to love it for the speed, the instinct, the feeling of just being there. Now it’s—” Lando sighs as he waves his hand almost like he’s trying to find the words…“it’s…it’s like every lap is a test. Like I’m trying to prove something to people who’ve already decided what I’m worth.”

(Y/n) looks at him as she sighs “Is that what you think? That they’ve already made up their minds?” Lando doesn't answer…he just didn't have the courage to for some reason…(Y/n)’s gaze stays fixed on his as she slowly leans back in the passenger seat… 

“You know what I see? I see a guy who lights up when he talks about how the tires felt during lap 16. Who gets mad not because he failed, but because he knows what he’s capable of. I’ve watched you love this sport like it’s a part of your skin.” Lando turns his head…his eyes meeting with hers as she continues…

“You’re allowed to be tired. You’re allowed to feel the pressure. But none of that changes why you started. Or how much you matter — not to a team, not to some sponsor, but to the people who actually see you.” Her voice softens…“One bad weekend doesn’t rewrite everything you’ve done. It doesn’t take away who you are. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you’ve got anything left to prove.”

That’s when Lando sighs and for a second his walls slip…(Y/n) sees the boy beneath the driver…in front of her…After all…Lando was also a human who needed to be reassured of his capabilities sometimes…

“Do you really think that?” “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

A few seconds pass. Then he reaches over, takes one of her nuggets, and eats it wordlessly. (Y/n) gasps as she looks at him faking an offended expression “Excuse me—” Lando grinned as he let the word fall from his lips in the most carefree and free way “Tax…”

(Y/n) laughed as she shoves him lightly. Lando leans his head back on the seat and lets out a breath that sounds a little more like relief this time rather than a weight inside him begging to be relieved

“Thanks. For being the one place I don’t have to be the guy who wears McLaren's racing suits...” Lando says looking at her while (Y/n) smiles softly “You’re welcome. For always.”

3 days later it's raining as Lando barges into the shop…almost practically wet…He shoots a grin at (Y/n) who was cleaning the counter when she looked at the bouquet she was making and sighed “Hey, we’re open, but if you’re dripping, I’m legally allowed to throw a towel at you.” 

Rain taps gently on the windows, the sound muffled but steady. The shop smells like soil, eucalyptus, and the faint vanilla candle (Y/n) lit earlier. The doorbell jingles softly. Lando’s voice rings across the room…“Harsh welcome.” (Y/n) smiled as she peered over the counter…Her face lightened up when she saw him…

Lando was drenched…his curls stuck to his forehead indicating he had gotten slightly wet as he had closed the umbrella before walking in…which also answered why his hoodie was half wet… “Oh look what the rain dragged in…you know you’re gonna be down with fever after this right Lan?” Everyone called him that but from her mouth…god it felt like it was call from heaven to him…

“You got a mop or do I just stand here and ruin your floor?” (Y/n) smiled as she shook her head as Lando shrugged…she disappeared into the backroom and threw a small hand towel at him…“Thanks.” He ruffles his hair a bit and sets the soaked hoodie on a hook near the door. He was wearing a plain black shirt underneath which had been saved from being dampened by the thick hoodie… “You want something warm? I’ve got hot chocolate in the back. Not from a machine, thank you very much.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him “I made it in the morning…” Lando smiled as he stood in front of the counter as she let him in…“Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.” He smiled at her as he looked her up and down…Had she always looked like she was the moon…she almost looked like she had a soft glow around her…he shook his head as she let him in and they both went to the backroom… A small lamp cast a gentle yellow glow. The rain sounds louder back here, like a low lullaby. (Y/n) set down two mugs of hot chocolate on the old wooden table as she pulled a chair and sat across Lando… “One has a little cinnamon in it. Try not to die guessing which.” She smiles as she pushes one of the cups towards him…“Living dangerously today, huh?” Lando smirked at her as she smiled tilting her head “That’s just me being me…�� A soft laughter erupted in the room which died down soon after as Lando cleared his throat…He turned the cup slowly in his hand before finally letting the statement fall from his lips… “So… I’ve gotta tell you something.” (Y/n) sat up, setting her cup down and looking at him…“Okay. Should I be worried?” (Y/n)’s voice was almost a whisper…she was thinking about the worst possibilities… Had she said something stupid which hurt him?

Did she mess up something?

What had she done…?

Oh lord…

“No. Just—don’t hate me.” Lando looked at her…

“Lando.” Panic spread across her face as Lando noticed and shook his head as he finally sighed and looked at the counter that could be seen from the door…“Season’s starting. First race is this weekend. Then it’s back-to-back for months. I’m flying out tomorrow morning.” Some relief sets back into (Y/n)…she knew this would come her way…she just didn't know this quickly…

“How long?” (Y/n) let the question fall off her lips like she had rehearsed it mentally a hundred times just to soothe the hollowness she would feel while he would be gone…“Five months. Give or take.” Lando said as he looked into her eyes..that was the time they made a quiet and mutual agreement… “And then?” (Y/n) said looking at him as she tried to shift in her seat…somehow it was starting to hurt her entire body in just two seconds…“Then I’ll be back….Silverstone.”...“Right.” (Y/n) nodded as she took another sip before setting it on the table… “I didn’t want to just vanish on you…you matter to me…and I felt like you should know…” Lando looked at her hoping she wouldn’t look at him differently…“I’m glad you did.” (Y/n) smiled…she had sorted out the mental turmoil and she took another sip and looked at him before speaking.. “Five months is a long time. But not forever.” (Y/n) looked at Lando looking for any sense of reassurance in his eyes…“Exactly. And I’ll call. Text. Send you blurry photos of my hotel breakfasts.” (Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him…That innocent ‘I trust you’ smile Lando loved more than anything…“Please do. I want full reviews. I’m holding you to it.”....“Deal.” Lando smiles as (Y/n) takes their empty mugs and washes them in the sink… A comfortable silence falls again, a deeper kind of quiet wrapping around them. The kind that holds what words can’t.

“Promise me something?” (Y/n) says as she turns around to face him…“Don’t spend the whole season trying to prove yourself. Just… love it. Like you used to.”

Lando looks at her…his face softening as his vulnerable side flushes out…“You’re the only one who says that, you know?”...(Y/n) sighs and looks into his eyes ....“Then I’ll keep saying it. Every time.” She walks closer and places her hand over his…He turns his palm up and gently holds her fingers. “God, I’m gonna miss this.” Lando looked down… “I’ll miss annoying you on your shifts…” (Y/n) smiled as Lando looked up at her while he said the last part… “I’ll be right here when you come back. Hot chocolate and all.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him and hugged him to which he answered immediately, his arms finding her waist and wrapping around it as she played with his hair. The rain outside made it so much more comfortable…They both knew…At the end of the day they would have each other…to turn to..

(Y/n) is sat cross-legged on her bed, hair up in a messy bun, hoodie too big for her. Her laptop screen glowed. Behind her, a shelf of books, a candle flickering low, and a soft throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and she answered the video call. Lando’s face appears — hoodie on, lying on his hotel bed in Melbourne… “There she is.” Lando’s voice soothed her ears as a smile spread across her cheeks… (Y/n) raised her brow as she spoke…voice hoarse due to not talking for hours at a stretch “Shouldn’t you be asleep? You’ve got FP1 in, like, six hours.”

(Y/n) fixed the blanket and snuggled and rested her head on the cushion that supported her…“Can’t. Too much adrenaline, or nerves. Or maybe I just missed hearing your voice.” Lando said as he looked at her and smiled softly…genuinely… “Smooth.” (Y/n) chuckled while her eyes were closed…“I’m trying, alright? Give a man points.” Lando said, pretending to be offended…“You get one. Maybe.” (Y/n) said as she opened her eyes and smiled..readjusting herself…that's when he saw the hoodie he had left behind at the shop on her tiny frame…A small smile spread across lando’s face but he decided not to confront it…He also saw something else…a book with a girl standing and a guy in a racing suit standing on the cover page of the book…the spine of the book had tiny checkered flags on it… “Wait. Wait, go back.” He said to (Y/n) who grew confused and looked at him a bit weirdly… “Go back where?” she asked confusion lacing her voice…Lando leaned a bit into the camera before he let his lips speak the words that his brain framed…

“On your bed. What is that? That red and white book.” (Y/n) glances over her shoulder, then immediately turns back, her face blank. “Nope. Not important.” She says as she tries to change the topic…“Oh, it's very important now.” (Y/n) sighed, throwing her head back dramatically as she accepted defeat..“Fine. It’s called ‘To The Finish Line’.” (Y/n) grumbled out as she pulled the strings of the hood to hide her face…

“Sounds suspiciously F1-related.” Lando said out loud…“Maybe.” “Romance?” (Y/n) averted her gaze as she sighed and put the candle off “Would it kill you to believe I’m well-rounded?” “Not at all. But it is incredibly hard to imagine you reading a book where the lead guy probably says something like ‘my heart races faster than my car’.” (Y/n) bursts out laughing as Lando completes the sentence…her smiling…it pult a smile on his face by default as if it was just what his duty was…to make her smile…

“Okay that was exactly the vibe, but listen—it’s not that cheesy. It’s about this driver who kind of loses himself in the pressure and this girl who helps him remember why he started in the first place.”  Lando’s mind spirals as he hears her say that…

Wait, isn't that like us? He wanted to say…but just an “Oh” came out of his mouth…(Y/n)’s voice softened as she looked at the book holding it in her hands “Yeah. So… maybe I got attached. Sue me.”...

Lando quietly eyed her as he muttered…“You always pick the things that matter to you. Even if they look small.” There was a silent pause as he laid on his back…phone angled to face the ceiling…“You think you can talk me to sleep?” His heavy voice mumbles out… “Only if you promise not to drool mid-call.” (Y/n) smiles softly…and starts humming softly as she starts knitting…something about it was so calming…Lando couldn't place his finger on it…Was it her humming or the fact that she would stay on call with him till he fell asleep…it was just safe and he felt…accepted…

Sleep nearly dawns on him…as she sleepy groans out some words to her… “It's not fair you know? You are all over there literally across the world…and I'd still win the damn race just to see you smile…” (Y/n) smiled softly looking at him… “Lan sleep…you need it…” Lando rubbed his face as he finally spoke up… “Text me after FP1…okay?” “Always…” and the line went dead as Lando's black screen stared at him…something struck him…before sleep could dawn on him…he opened google and typed in the book’s name carefully…

To The Finish Line – Paperback

He presses 'Order'. Just to know, he tells himself. Just to see what she sees.

The sky outside was still dark, just starting to blue. (Y/n) sat curled up on the couch with her blanket wrapping her body as the post-FP2 recap played on the TV. Her phone buzzed in her lap. She blinks at the screen.

It’s Lando. Video call. 

She answers, voice raspy with exhaustion and a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well look who finally remembered his biggest fan.” She covered her face as she yawned before smiling at him..“You’re awake?” Lando smiled at her as he unlocked the door of his hotel room…He put the card in the holder as he set his phone on the stand… “I never slept, genius. Stayed up to watch both sessions. You crushed it.” (Y/n) smiled…It was genuine…her voice had pride in it and Lando could perfectly sense it…A smile ghosted Lando's lips as she smiled at him while her eyes were already dropping from the lack of sleep in her system… “Did I now?” Lando said as he fiddled with the hem of his hoodie…there was a soft insecure feeling in his voice…after all he had faltered his position in FP2…finishing in p2 after he had just gotten p1 in FP1…he felt less somehow…and he couldn't place a finger on exactly where he felt the pain…It felt like it was divided in the heart and brain… (Y/n) sensed the uncomfortable silence as Lando zoned out…she cleared her throat before letting the words fall off her lips “You did. P1 and P2? Not too bad for someone who couldn’t sleep last night.” Lando let a sarcastic laugh fall off his lips… “but I still faltered…didn’t I?” (Y/n)’s eyes softened even more if that was possible…she smiled softly at him… “Lando it's free practice…you did really good…if you don't want to hear it from yourself…hear it from me at least…you did really good..” Lando’s mind grew quieter as she said that…a sense of comfort dawning on him filling him with reassurance…“Seriously though” a soft sigh left his lips “… thank you. For staying up. For watching. It means more than I can say.” (Y/n) smiled as she nodded…“I don’t miss the things that matter.” His eyes suddenly lock on her as she closes her eyes and tries not to fall asleep…he just sits there…He watches her — hair messy, eyes tired, hoodie hanging off her shoulder. A version of her he’s never seen in person, but it makes his chest feel oddly warm. A chuckle leaves his throat…“You’re gonna pass out, huh?” “Probably in the next 5 minutes. But you had to know I was proud of you before that happened.” (Y/n) smiled as she completed the sentence… “and…Lan just know that I always will be…proud…of you…”

“Go hydrate. Stretch. Eat carbs. Whatever it is you drivers do after a good day.” (Y/n) chuckled out as she sank into her pillows…Lando eyed her face and smiled as he rested his head on his hand…“I’ll do all of that. After I look at you for another ten seconds.” “Flirt.” (Y/n) said, chuckling as she looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks… “Sleepy flirt. Big difference.” Lando smiled as he said that and exhaled deeply “Go to sleep Headphone girl…you need it..” (Y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately… “I don't use my headphones that much…” Lando chuckled as she shook his head “I almost ran over you that day…” “Point.” “yea..” (Y/n) smiled softly as she sighed… “Fine…goodnight lan I’m gonna go get some sleep now…” Lando smiled as the line went dead and a black screen stared back at him…he sighed softly as he looked to his side…the paperback book lying on his desk… It's time to see what she sees in this…

Lando sat by the window, legs pulled up to the chair. The book lay open on his lap. A highlighter uncapped next to it. He’s re..read a passage for the third time, brows slightly furrowed. “He didn’t know when it started — the fear that he wasn’t enough anymore. But she never treated him like he had to prove anything. And that’s when he started breathing again.”Lando closed the book slowly, fingers resting on the page. He looked toward his phone on the table, her name still on top from last night’s call. He’s torn…torn between his brain and heart…his brain kept muttering at him to forget it and just go to sleep while his heart practically begs the brian for permission to let him move his hands and grab the phone and text her…

His brain gives up…hands rush to the phone before he types in a text…

LAN: Thankyou for accepting me just how I am…Being around you..it..it makes me feel like I…like I can just breathe…without having to worry about anything.

No no no no no what am I thinking… His finger hovers over the backspace key before he taps it vigorously and again a blank text bar lay staring up at him from his phone…

LAN: you’re kind of unfairly good at making my head quieter.

He deletes that too… Eventually, he sets the phone down without sending anything. Just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before muttering… “Jesus. I’m so far gone.”

The garage was waking up — crew members moving with precision, equipment being calibrated, the low hum of focus in the air. But Lando's world was quieter. Slower. 

He stood by the back wall, race suit hanging from his waist, gloves in hand. A bottle of water forgotten by his side. His eyes were on the floor — not the car…His brain was screaming at him right now…He felt numb…just numb… “Yesterday was good. P1 and P2. I should be happy.”

He says to himself as he rolls his shoulder, stretching out tension that’s been sitting there since sunrise. “So why does it feel like if I’m not better today, it all counts for nothing?”One of the engineers waves a note at him — some tweak on balance, maybe tire pressures. He nods but barely hears it..He knows what the data says. He knows what the lap times were. But logic rarely speaks louder than the voice inside him that was eating him alive…

“What if it slips? What if that wasn’t real? What if yesterday was the peak and now it’s the drop?”

He picked up his helmet and ran a thumb over the top. The design felt familiar. Grounding. He closed his eyes for a second longer than he needed to.

The garage was still busy. Still loud. But the noise doesn’t touch him.

“It’s just free practice. But why does it feel like a test I already failed?”

He hears a buzz from his phone kept beside him…he lets his hand find their way to the phone and turns on the screen as a text notification stares at him..

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

His mouth lifts slightly. Just barely. But it’s enough to remind him he’s not doing this alone.

Helmet on. Visor down. He walks toward the car, heartbeat in his throat — not from fear, but from the weight of expectation he hasn’t figured out how to let go.

The alarm rang as 2:30 AM displayed on (Y/n)’s phone as she pushed the blanket off of herself…she groggily made her way to the living room as she turned the tv on and sat down…(Y/n) puts it on multiviewer as she looks at the camera that is pointed at lando as she looks at him…a soft smile forming but soon disappearing after she ready his body language… She looked at him standing in the garage, head down, hand braced on the edge of the car like he’s holding something invisible back… “He’s quiet. Too quiet. Not in that usual pre-session way either.”

She thought mentally…She leaned closer to the screen like proximity could help her read his thoughts better. The commentator's voice drones on about tire choices and balance tweaks, but she wasn’t listening. She watched the way Lando hesitated just before getting in the car. The way his jaw locked for a second too long…

“He’s spiraling a little, isn’t he?” she mutters to herself as she picks at the hem of her shirt…The camera switches angles — now he’s got the helmet on, but that didn’t fool her. His posture was too still. Not focused — frozen. And she knew exactly what that meant

“God, I wish I could just be there. Shake him a little. Tell him to breathe. Tell him yesterday didn’t vanish just because today feels heavier.”

Her hand finds her phone before her brain finishes the thought. She types faster than she realizes.

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

She sent it before she could second-guess. Then set the phone down, still staring at the screen as the session begins.

And when his car finally rolled out of the garage — smooth, clean, no hesitation — she exhaled, the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Her lips curve into a tiny smile. A hopeful one…one she wished he could see…just to feel reassured if that was possible… “There he is.” She mutters as seriousness dawns on her while she watches the grid driving…praying his mind didn’t play tricks on him…

Lando sat on a bench, still in his race suit, as he tried to avoid his phone which was set down beside him. His helmet was still on him, visor open, reflecting the quiet frustration in his eyes. His phone buzzed. He doesn't even look at the name before swiping to answer the call…

“Didn’t even get a ‘hello’? What if I was someone else?” (Y/n)’s voice rang across the phone as she held it under her ear while she snuggled up to the couch

“Then I guess someone else would’ve had to tell me P10 isn’t the end of the world.” Lando mumbled almost like he was saying that to himself mentally…A deep sigh was heard on the other side of the call…“So that’s what this call is.” “That obvious?” “Crystal clear. Lando, it’s free practice. you were trying things. You know this.” “Yeah, but—” “No. No ‘but.’ Listen to me. You are going to go out there, put that helmet on, and crush quali. Because you always come alive when it counts.”

A silence fell on the call as Lando’s breath normalized again…(Y/n)’s voice continued as her tone turned softer…“And even if something goes wrong… you’re still you. You’re not measured by a single lap.”

Lando leaned back, letting his back hit the wall as his head tipped towards the ceiling…“Why do you always know exactly what to say?” he murmured as she smiled softly before replying…“Because I pay attention.”

“Will you watch it live?” Lando said as he looked back down and chewed his lip…“Already called off of work… Kilye didn’t bat an eye when I said it was about you… You’re stuck with me.” A smile finally laced Lando’s lips…“Good. I drive better when I know you’re there.” “Then go give me something worth yelling about.”

 “Copy that.”

He ended the call, and in the sudden quiet of the driver room, he exhaled. The weight on his shoulders felt lighter now…

The TV glowed in the dark room, casting soft light across the cluttered coffee table — empty mugs, half-eaten snacks... She was curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, phone clutched tightly… “Through this time the home favorite looking to bring the crowd to their feet there's never been an Australian driver on pole position for the Australian Grand Prix can he change all of that” The commentator yells out as the screen shows Oscar's lap…(Y/n)’s hand subconsciously grips the phone in her hand harder… “he can! With a monster final sector…” the speakers of her TV let the voice echo as (Y/n) chews her lip… “Over to you Lando Norris…Over to you Max Verstappen and George Russell…”

He still has time…(Y/n) thinks as she leans closer to the screen… “Can Norris take it away?!?” (Y/n)’s hands clasp around her phone even harder…that was going to leave a mark… Her breath almost stops as she finally hears the words she most desperately wanted to hear… “He Does..!” A wide grin spreads across (Y/n)’s face..

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY! That’s what I told you, didn’t I?!” She jumps off the couch, nearly tripping over her blanket. 

“Oh my god, he did it. He actually—” His name tops the board as she smiled softly...

A few minutes later the recap starts to show when her phone buzzes — FaceTime. She dives for it…

Lando’s still in his suit, flushed from adrenaline, hair damp under the cap, but grinning wider than he has in weeks.

“pole?! Are you kidding me right now?!” (Y/n) smiled as she let out the breath she had been holding for so long…“I told you I drive better when you’re watching.” Lando laughs almost breathlessly until he sits down…

“I need, like, five minutes to calm down. I think I scared my neighbors.” (Y/n) laughed as she let the words out…“I’m serious, (Y/n). I heard your voice the whole damn lap.” Lando says a soft smile on both their faces as (Y/n) reassures him “you earned it…I’m so proud of you..” “I think that’s the only thing I needed to hear.” Lando smiles as silence takes over…not an uncomfortable one…a silence where no one spoke but their worlds were in a perfect sync…

“Go celebrate. I’ll be here… text me when you're free okay?” (Y/n) let it out before she smiled and let the line die…

The days bleed into each other as (Y/n) finds herself hyping Lando up every single race weekend…They don't even realize when Australia bleeds into China and when China bleeds into japan….

Shanghai was nearly perfect…Lando was sharp, focused, and clean. He brings it home P2. On the podium, as the champagne mists the air…as soon as he got down he checked his phone. One message sits at the top:

(N/n): I screamed. Again. My neighbors think I’m unwell. P2, baby! Let’s GO.

He smiles. The kind that slips out even when he’s trying to stay cool for the cameras…

Suzuka was a bit wet…Overnight rain was making it harder but…Lando finished Q3 with a flying lap but still ended behind max — P2 in the race again... As he sips water in the driver’s room, helmet still half-off, his phone rings. (Y/n)’s voice is faintly crackly, half-teasing.

“You’re getting faster by the week. It’s honestly annoying.” (Y/n) chuckled, faking her annoyance as Lando smiled “You know you love it”

“I do.” (Y/n)’s voice rings before they cut the call so Lando could get to the podium…

Japan soon bled into Bahrain as Lando picked up his phone opening her texts…

Lan: Feeling a bit off.

(N/n): It’s okay to feel off. Just don’t let it decide the race.

Lan: Can I call you?

(Y/n)’s phone rings as she takes it and puts it to her ears…“Lan you Know that you don't have to be perfect all the time right?” She lets the words fall out of her mouth softly as she says it in the most genuine way possible…“Just don’t want to disappoint.” “Impossible. You could finish 18th and I’d still think you’re the best driver out there.” “…You don’t make it easy to stay nervous.”

(Y/n) smiled as the line went dead indicating that he had to get ready for the race…

 It was another solid finish. P3. Lando tapped his heart just before the podium — a small, private motion. No one asks, but it meant something. Later that night, Lando sat in front of his screen..(Y/n) on the other side as she planned out the flower arrangement for Kylie's birthday bouquet…

“That one was for you.” Lando let his mouth speak the words as she looked at him with a smile growing on her lips…“Lan…” “I’m not where I want to be yet. But I’m getting there. Thanks for keeping me grounded.” “Anytime. Keep chasing.”

And just like that, The Saudi Arabia race weekend was just around the corner…

(Y/n)’s phone rang across her table as she looked at the caller Id…Lando…a smile laced her lips as she slowly took her phone in her hands…accepting the call… “Hey…” she let the greeting fall off her lips…it had become a routine now… “Hey…” Lando returned but something was lacking…it was different…worry painted raina’s face as she spoke.. “You okay?” “Nervous. The car doesn’t feel right.” (Y/n) let out a soft sigh as she smiled… “Just drive it like it’s stolen and I’m waiting at the finish line with food.” Lando chuckled as he looked at his car from afar.. “That was your motivational speech?” “Want the long version?” “always…”

Jeddah. The walls are close. Q3’s almost done when Lando pushes too much. There was an oversteer, and the car slams the barrier. Red flag. Silence in the commentary box. “Are you okay?” asks his race engineer on the team radio… “Yea im good…fucking idiot”

Later that night Lando resorted to calling (Y/n) without a second thought…he needed her…god it wasn't a joke he seriously needed her…

The door clicks open. He tossed the lanyard on the table, kicked off his shoes. He barely sat down before he grabbed his phone and called her…

As soon as the line connected…there wasn’t any ‘hello’ (Y/n) went straight to the point… “Hey. Stop.” “Stop what?” Lando groaned as he sank to the bed…“Calling yourself an idiot like it’s your full-time job.” Lando sighed as he picked on the sheet of the bed…He exhaled. Silent for a moment. He was not crying, but he was close to breaking in the way tired people do…

“I let the team down. I let you down…” (Y/n) looked at him…as she sighed  “You made a mistake. You're allowed. You don’t have to carry the whole damn team by yourself. Lan you are human…and…and you could never let me down…we both know that…I’m so proud you pulled upto Q3…” He stared at the screen. Then nodded. Quietly… “Thanks…”

The next day He clawed back what he could. Smart, gritty drive. P4 in the end. Not a podium, but a message. After the race…

(N/n): You didn’t let anyone down.

Lan: Still kinda wish you were here.

(N/n): Me too.

Lan: Still I’mSorry.

(N/n): For what? You fought. That’s all that matters.

Lan: I just wanted to give you something to be proud of.

(N/n): You already do. You always do Lan…

Next on the race calendar was Miami… The sun hid behind the clouds. Lando's drive is smart, surgical — the fights for overtakes were entertaining but also a bit overwhelming…The camera catches him smiling into his helmet as he parks up.

(Y/n), back home, ice cream in hand, smiles at the TV feeling mental content…she had been working on controlling the emotions because at this point…her neighbours would get her turned in for yelling too much every weekend…She let her hands find her phone after the podium as she called him… “I’m best friends with a podium merchant.” “You’re best friends with a future world champ.” “I like your version better.”

The check-ins became slow, but not in a bad way. It was a rhythm now. Predictable in the way the best things were. Mid-week memes. Late night “what if” texts. Photos of his helmet. Snapshots of her lunch. Calls that faded into yawns and goodnights. A quiet, steady beat pulsing under everything — unspoken and obvious.

The city hums with warmth. (Y/n) steps out of her familiar corner bookstore, tote bag slung over her shoulder, thumb already flipping through a page. She looks up—and stops.

Lando’s leaning against the lamppost outside. Hoodie on, cap backwards, a small bakery bag in hand. The same crooked smile. The one that always made her feel like she was in on a secret.

She doesn’t think. Just walks straight into him. Her arms wrap around him so tightly, the tote bag slips off her shoulder. His hands find their way around her waist as they wrap around her tiny frame…“I figured this was the best place to find you.” (Y/n) pulled back a bit shocked…“Lan… What—what are you doing here? Race weekend is like 2 weeks apart…” She looked up at him, still a bit confused…“Told the team I needed some London air. They asked why. I said, ‘Got a bookstore girl I need to see.’” 

A chuckle escaped (Y/n)’s lips as she looked up at him  “You’re such an idiot.”  “Missed you too….headphone girl…”

“Oh my god…you have dark circles..” Lando noticed… “Some idiot keeps making me stay up to watch him chase podiums at 3AM.” Lando laughs softly at that before speaking… “…Hope he’s worth it.” She looks up at him. He looks down at her. The summer hums louder around them. “Yeah. He really is…” It was a sleepy Thursday. Sunlight poured in through the old windows, dust dancing in the beams. The store smelled like coffee, old pages, and wildflowers. (Y/n) is tucked behind the counter, humming softly while sorting out receipts...and watering the bouquets 

The bell above the door rings. She looked up, already smiling when she saw it’s him…she faked a tone of annoyance as she smiled…“Do you live here now?” A grin spread across Lando’s face “Would that be a problem?” “Only if you don’t spend 15 minutes after closing the shop to have coffee with me..” “You don’t have to ask...and I brought the cookies...”

She rolled her eyes…a smile on her face… but her hand was already reaching for the bag. They settle behind the counter, quietly sharing cookies like it’s their own little corner of the universe.

A few minutes later, Kylie walks in from the back, sees them both tucked in behind the desk, and stops. “Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Fast and Curious.” The voice made Lando sit up straight a bit as he fixed his hair…nervousness taking over him…“Hi. Uh—Lando.” He reintroduced himself to kylie… 

“Oh, I know. You’re the guy who’s always on (Y/n)’s phone.” She says as she hands him a cup of coffee…“On the house. And take a bouquet before you go. (Y/n) says the red gardenias remind her of you...” (Y/n)’s face turns a bright shade of red as she tried to stop Kylie from exposing what she had told her about a week ago..“Kylie—”“Shush. Let me be romantic on your behalf.” Kylie waved her hand in protest as she walked back inside to sort out the inventory duties for the next day…

She winks and disappears again, leaving them both flustered.

The store was quieter now. Lando was still there. Sitting on a stool behind the counter, flipping through a random poetry book. (Y/n) was beside him, arms crossed on the counter, eyes tired but honest. “You okay?” (Y/n) silently stares at the beams of sunlight before nodding… “Yeah. Just… sometimes being around you is so easy, it scares me.” He genuinely looks at her as she continues…

“Do you ever feel like you’re constantly earning your place in people’s lives? Like—if you’re not useful, funny, pretty, low-maintenance… they’ll leave?” (Y/n) said as she let her fingers wrap a spare piece of ribbon on them…

 “…Yeah. I get that.” Lando looked at her as he shut the book and pushed it aside, turning to face her… 

“My last relationship—he cheated on me. With my best friend. Told me I was too much. And not enough. Somehow both.” Lando doesn’t speak…he just couldn’t…How could someone not see her…the way he saw her…precious…lovable…his everything… Lando gently placed his hand near hers on the counter. Not touching, just near. Enough to say: ‘I’m here’ 

“Since then….I’ve just been trying to prove that I deserve to stay. In anyone’s life. Even yours.” A blanket of silence fell over then until Lando decided to remove it…“You don’t have to earn your place with me, (N/n). You already have it…”

The hotel room is still. A low amber glow spills from a lamp in the corner. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, hoodie sleeves bunched around his wrists, hair damp from a quick shower. His phone buzzes beside him — muted this time — but he doesn’t check it.

Instead, he reaches for something tucked deep in the lining of his suitcase. A book. The spine creased, the corners softened from travel. He bought it in Australia. Ordered it in the most impulsive way possible…

He continues reading as he reaches the middle of the book…the part.A race. The stakes are high. But it’s not the win that matters.

“He didn’t fight for the win because he needed glory. He fought because someone, somewhere, believed he could — and that made him want to be more than just fast. It made him want to be good.”

And suddenly it’s her — standing behind the counter, sleeves pulled over her palms, pretending to be annoyed when he rearranged the display alphabetically. Her voice when she told him about the ones who left. The look in her eyes when she said she always had to earn her space in someone’s world.

And yet she stood there anyway.

With him.

Not just for the wins. Not for the cameras. But in the quiet spaces in between.

He leans back against the pillows, book resting open across his chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if the room itself might give him an answer.

But he already knows it.

“She never asked for anything. Not once. And somehow… she still deserves everything.” There’s no plan yet. No grand gesture. But somewhere in the center of his chest, something starts to settle.

He doesn’t want to win for headlines. Or podiums. Or legacy.

He wants to win for the girl who stayed….

The next day…The shop was quiet, late golden sun bled through the windows. Raina was behind the counter, flipping through a new book she had bought when her phone buzzed…she let her hand find its way to her phone not looking away from the book…she finally looked at her phone and read the text notification

Lan: So… home race. Silverstone. I’ve got an extra pass. For my favourite book snob.

She smiled, biting back a laugh. She unlocked her phone and opened the text…as she quickly typed in a response…

(N/n): Lando, are you seriously trying to lure me with race fuel and overpriced chips?

Lan: Absolutely. I’m also offering front-row seats to me, losing my mind in quali.

(N/n): Tempting.

Lando: (N/n) Come. Please?

Her fingers hover over her keyboard as she finally gives in and accepts it with a smile….

Raina: Okay. I’ll be there….

The days pass by as (Y/n)  counts her days to the grand prix…Lando would occasionally visit her in the shop…and they both had noticed how Kylie had been missing in action for the last 2 days…(Y/n) had enough as finally She speaks up…

“Hey lan? Could you drive me to Kylie’s? I’m kind of getting worried at this point…” Without a hesitation Lando drops her off at Kylie's…But while he was driving to his hotel…his heart drops as he sees the text notification on his phone…

(N/n):  Kylie’s sick. Can’t come. I’m so sorry, Lan. Kill it for me anyway.

Lando sits on his hotel bed as he stared into the wall before laying down and falling asleep…he had a fp1 to worry about anyways…

Two days passed as (Y/n) got too busy taking care of Kylie…Lando was convinced at this point that she would not be attending…

“You should be with him…not me…” Kylie said as she let out a cough and looked up at (Y/n)…(Y/n) sat beside Kylie before sighing…“You need to be taken care of... Jesus, Ky, you’re burning up.”

Kylie gives her a look, groggy but pointed. “(Y/n)… seriously. Go. I’ll be fine.” Kylie tried to convince her…“Not a chance.” “(Y/n).”

She said it like she was summoning her. Like she was asking her to listen, for real.

“You’ve always done this thing, you know? Dropping everything for people. Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.”(Y/n) looked away. Outside the window as she refused to accept it…“But this? This is Lando. And he does.” (Y/n) sighed as she listened quietly…before mumbling…“It’s just a race.” Kylie looks at her firmly…“No, it’s not. Not to him. And definitely not when it’s you he wanted there.”

“I already texted him… Told him I couldn’t come.” Kylie groaned as she mumbled... “You idiot.” She took (Y/n)’s hand in hers as (Y/n) spoke…“I didn’t want to let you down.” Kylie softly looked at her as she spoke… “You never let me down. But (Y/n) — don’t you get it? That boy looks at you like… like you’re the win he never knew he was allowed to chase.”...Silence dawns upon (Y/n) as she blinks slowly. Kylie whispers as (Y/n) looks into her eyes…“Go. Before you start convincing yourself he doesn’t care. Because I promise you — he really, really does.”

It was buzzing. Crowds. Cameras. Fans. Mechanics. Lando stood near the garage, helmet in hand, in full race suit. His usual energy was off. A little flat. He checks his phone again. Nothing.

Until—

“You look like you’re about to fight someone.”

He spins.  There she was…Lanyard around her neck, hoodie tucked into her jeans, windblown and out of breath. And smiling.

Lando’s breath catches. Then without even thinking, he pulls her in — arms around her, tight, grounded, like she’s the only thing real in this entire buzzing paddock.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” “Kylie changed my mind.” “God, I missed you.” “You saw me three days ago.” “Not like this.”

They stood there, forehead to shoulder, in the middle of the chaos, while the team let them be for just a moment.

She watched from the McLaren garage, hands clenched, heart in her throat. The energy was electric. Lando was in the lead. Lap after Lap, he’s flawless — focused, feral, faster than she’s ever seen him.

Lap 50 of 52. A Red Bull looms in his mirrors — relentless.

Then — the DRS zone.

The move comes clean and brutal. Lando defends. He tries. But the Red Bull slices through with three corners to go.

He finishes P2.

He got out of the car. Helmet off. Cameras flash. The crowd roared. His name was everywhere. But he barely lifted his eyes. He walked to her. Slowly. Like the world is a little heavier than it was before.

(Y/n) grinned up at him…“P2! Lan, that was—insane. Everyone’s freaking out!..He didn’t smile. Didn’t meet her eyes. (Y/n) sensed the change in his body language as her tone softened…“Hey. What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, as he replied in an almost frustrated tone…“I wanted to win that race.” (Y/n) flinched a bit due to his tone being unpredictable..“…Lando, you nearly did. That was—” He cut her off…his voice a bit louder and desperate… “No. I didn’t want to win it for the team. Or for the media. I wanted to win it for you.”

She stared at him as her heart caught in her chest. Lando’s voice broke softly as he tried to speak…

 “You showed up. After everything. After I thought you wouldn’t. And I thought… I thought if I won, maybe you’d see what you mean to me. Like it would say it without me needing to say it. I don’t know.”

She stepped forward. Quietly. her eyes softened as she held his hand. “Lando…” He looks away, jaw clenched, ashamed. She pulled him in — arms around him. Tight. Reassuring. Unshakable. She softly spoke into his ear…“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Not now. Not ever.”He exhaled — like something inside him finally gave up the fight.

“You’re already everything I’d ever cheer for.”

They stay there, pressed together in the middle of the storm. Around them, the paddock whirled. But inside this hug, there was quiet. Steady. Real.

Because he didn’t win the race.

But maybe… for once… he didn’t have to…

The sun dipped behind the trees as Lando and (Y/n) pulled into Kylie’s quiet neighborhood. The Post race buzz faded into calm. The car still hummed softly beneath them as Lando glanced at her — her legs folded up in the passenger seat, hoodie sleeves pushed over her hands, the P2 cap now backwards on her head.

“Wearing that like you earned it.” “I carried you emotionally through half the season. I deserve it.”

He laughed, but there was something softer in the way he looked at her. She didn’t notice. Or pretended not to. Kylie opened the door…blanket slung over one shoulder and tea in hand. 

“About time. You made him podium just to get out of bringing soup, didn’t you?” (Y/n) hugged her tight. Kylie groaned like it hurts — and it probably does — but she still pulled (Y/n)in harder. “Don’t get sappy, I’m just here to drop you your disgusting peppermint tea.” Kylie waved her off.“Actually, could you run to the corner shop? I forgot milk and you’re faster than the average dying woman.” Kylie said mischievously as she sat down on one of her chairs“Unbelievable.” (Y/n) mumbled knowing exactly what Kylie was planning… “Don’t scare him while I’m gone.” Kylie raises her eyebrows in mock innocence. (Y/n) disappears out the door.

Lando stands awkwardly nearby, unsure whether to sit or bolt. “Relax. I’m not gonna bite.” Kylie chuckles as she turns to him, motioning him to sit…Lando takes a seat opposite to her and lets a chuckle out before stopping and clearing his throat... 

“So…What do you mean to her?”

Lando blinks, almost confused as he stares at Kylie for some sort of explanation to what she just said…“What?” He blurts out a confused expression painted over his face…

“(Y/n). You just ran a whole race like she was the finish line. You’re here. You’re always here. So I’m asking — what do you mean to her? And more importantly — what does she mean to you?”

He shifts, kylie had caught him off guard…awfully awkwardly…and exposingly..he sighed as he looked at her…“I don’t… I don’t think she knows.” Kylie shakes her head as she disagrees... “That’s not what I asked.”

He looks down at his hands. Then out the window. Then he just lets his heart accept it and speak over his brain….“She’s... she’s the first person who never saw me as just the guy in the car. She listens like I’m more than the stats or the wins. And when things go wrong, she doesn’t flinch. She just—stays.” 

Kylie smiles as she drinks her tea and looks at him approvingly… “I'm happy that you finally decided to accept it instead of beating around the bush like you have been doing since the first day I saw you with her…” Lando chuckled as he looked away while Kylie continued…“She’s always had to earn her place. With friends. With that trashfire of an ex. She’s always afraid of being too much. Or not enough.”

Lando swallows. Hard.

“She doesn’t know how much she means to you. And that girl—she’s smart, but she’s oblivious. So if she means something to you, and I mean really means something—say it. Because she’s not going to see it unless you put it right in front of her face.”

He’s quiet. But his jaw’s tight. And behind the silence is something certain…“She means everything.” He blurts out before he even realizes it himself…his eyes widen as he realizes what he had just said as he lets it sink in…

She means everything… She means everything… She means everything…

Kylie studies him for a long moment. Then smiles — small, knowing, satisfied…“Good.” Kylie smiles…

The sound of the knob of the door is heard... (Y/n)’s back. Lando doesn’t move.

But something in him has…

The car hums softly as Lando drives through the quiet streets of London. The world outside is dim and washed in rainlight, but inside the car, there's an unspoken energy — a new rhythm between them, something that's been building.

(Y/n) stared out the window as she sighed…“You sure you’re okay?” She turned her head facing Lando who had his eyes on the road…“Yeah, just... one of those days.” A grin plastered (Y/n)’s face as she chuckled…“Kylie grilled you, didn’t she?” A small chuckle left Lando’s throat as he looked at her from the corner of his eye while still keeping his focus on the road…“Yeah, well... Kylie's pretty good at making me spill my guts. I didn’t even see it coming.”

“She just... wants to make sure you're good for me. You know?” (Y/n) said as she sighed… “Yeah. I get it.”

The quiet settles between them again, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s something... familiar. Different…It was as if even if no one spoke they would stay next to each other…just in the presence of each other…

Suddenly (Y/n) turned to face him…“You know, you don’t have to always prove yourself.”...Her words catch him off guard. He looks at her, surprised by the sudden honesty in her voice.

“Prove myself?” He asked…“Yeah. You’re always running after something... like you’re trying to show people you’re worthy. But you don’t need to do that. Not for me.”

Her words hit deeper than he expects. For a moment, he’s silent, processing what she’s saying. He’s always running. Always trying to be better, to do more. But with her? It feels different.

He quietly mutters to himself…“Maybe I want to prove something to myself. Not just the team, or anyone else.”

She’s quiet for a beat. Then, she glances at him, a little smile tugging at her lips. “I guess we’re both trying to figure that out, huh?”  A smile ghosts Lando’s lips…“Yeah. Seems like it.”

Lando parked the car outside her building, the engine purring to a stop. They sat there for a moment, neither rushing to get out. The air between them felt charged. They shared a silence, but it was of the comfortable kind.

(Y/n) finally took a deep breath as she took off her seatbelt…“Thanks for the ride.”...Lando nodded, his hands lingering on the wheel for a moment longer than necessary. He didn’t want this to end. Not yet. “Anytime…Let me walk you…” He looked at her…his eyes showed sincerity…but also of wanting to stay with her…he felt anchored whenever he was with her…she was his everything…

They both got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of her building. As they reached the door, (Y/n) stopped, turning to face him. There was something different in her eyes now — something unspoken, a spark neither of them knew how to put into words.

He stood there for a second, his thoughts swirling. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to say it out loud — how much she meant to him. How everything had changed, how he was not sure he could keep pretending like it was all just a friendship. But he doesn’t. He can't. He caught his tongue at the last second.

(Y/n) pulled her bag over her shoulder as she smiled up at him softly… “Thanks for the ride…” She smiled softly and he saw her…she was looking up at him…like she was searching his face for something…maybe to get a hint of what he was thinking of…but it was there…in the way he stood…and the way he looked at her…He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just smiled a little, his gaze softening… “You’ll be okay?” He asked…hoping she would ask him to spend more time with her…but they both knew that they should call it a day…(Y/n) smiled as she sighed softly…“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

She turned to head into her apartment, but as she reached for the door handle, she paused and looked back one last time. Lando’s standing in front of her, his back to the door, watching her.

The door clicked open. (Y/n) stepped inside, but before she fully closed it, she leaned against it for a moment. Her heart’s pounding — she was not sure why. She didn't know if it’s the way Lando’s eyes followed her or if it’s the conversation, the weight of it, that’s left her hanging in the air.

On the other side of the door, Lando leaned back against it too, eyes closed. His heart pounded in his chest. He was still standing there, thinking about how everything had shifted. How much she mattered to him. But he didn’t know how to say it yet. How to make it real.

And so, for the first time, they both sat with the unsaid. (Y/n) finally sighs as she makes her way to her room and calls it a night…

The next day…It was delivery day.

Buckets clattered onto the pavement, packed with sunflowers, peonies, and lilies. The air smelled like spring and sleep. Lando was there, hoodie clinging to his frame after a morning run, sleeves shoved up, eyes squinting in the sun…after he begged Kylie to let him help…(Y/n) fumbled with the keys, still groggy, she teased him as he nearly tripped over a rogue bucket…“You’re useless with your center of gravity messed up.” “And yet—somehow still more helpful than your cardboard arms.” (Y/n) chuckled as she rolled her eyes before finally getting the lock and opening the door of the shop letting them in…Then — mid-lift, breath shallow, words low and too easy — he said it…“I’d carry your entire life if you asked.”

Silence. (Y/n) turned around and looked at him as she let her hands rest on her waist…The world doesn’t stop, but it slows. Lando blinked like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. “…what?” (Y/n) questioned him as she looked at him…Lando cleared his throat as he looked away trying his hardest to convince her not to push at what he just said… “Nothing. Forget it.”

And indeed she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t push. But something had cracked open between them — not broken, just… unguarded. New…They lift the rest in silence. Side by side. The kind of silence that buzzes with everything left unsaid. From the side door, Kylie appeared… steaming coffee in one hand, sunglasses perched in her messy hair… She watched the two of them, their shoulders brushed as they moved inside, the atmosphere still humming.

She took a slow sip as she smiled to herself…“You know what? I’m taking the morning off.” She said as (Y/n) blinked at her confused… “Wait—what?”...“Shop’s in good hands.”

Kylie disappears down the sidewalk, chuckling to herself… Inside the shop, the air smelled like fresh lilies and unsaid feelings…Neither of them dared to speak about it — not yet…But both of them felt it. Something changed…

That day…(Y/n) closed the shop early…They both walked to a nearby corner bookstore and started walking through the aisles of the different genres… (Y/n) found a vintage copy of a poetry book that she had been hunting for…a soft cover, worn spine, her eyes lit up like the first time he saw her talk about flowers…She walked to the counter, book and card in hand...But Lando swooped in infront of her…“Lan…I’ve got it. Don’t even think about—” She tries to say as Lando cuts her off by tapping his card on the machine…“Too late.” A groan erupted from (Y/n)’s throat as she mumbled…“Lando—come on. I can buy my own books.”...“Yeah. But I wanted to.” She stared at him, part shocked and part scared of becoming a burden... and he just shrugs, like it’s not a big deal…

Later, outside the shop, she reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a receipt — and a small, worn photo flutters out of his wallet…It’s of her.

Tied-up apron. Sleeves rolled. Head bowed slightly as she arranged a bouquet. Sunlight haloed her hair…(Y/n) picked it up, stunned…“You kept this?” her voice came out almost as a whisper…

A soft smile ghosted Lando’s face as he said…“It’s my lucky charm.”...Her voice catches..“Why that one?”...“Because you look like peace. And I need that.”

She didn’t respond. She just folded the photo back carefully and handed it to him like it’s something sacred…And that’s the moment she realized — It wasn’t just about the book. It has never been just about the book…

They both ended up walking to (Y/n)’s apartment…She unlocked the door and let them both in… “shit…I forgot all about the clothes…” she mumbled… “sit here…I’ll go fold them up first…” “No..I want to help…” Lando looks at her as he stands up… “Please…” He lets out as (Y/n) smiles, folding in and letting him follow her to her bedroom… It had started to rain…Big, soaking drops on the windows. The kind of storm that made the world feel smaller… “You ready to get absolutely smoked at folding?” Lando grinned at her…(Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him the same mischievous way… “Please. You don’t even match your own socks.” “Fashion is subjective.”

The competition was absurd, messy, and full of laughter. She barely won. By a second. Maybe less….He started folding one of her hoodies — and stopped…It was her favorite. Worn. Soft. It smelled like her eucalyptus shampoo, like her space. He held it a moment too long.

 “You gonna cry over a hoodie, Norris?” (Y/n) teased him as she patted his back softly…He didn't answer. Instead he Just folded it with care, walked over to the shelf without asking, and tucked it in the exact right spot. Then folded the grey tassel blanket and draped it over the back of the couch. Right where it always goes…She watched him quietly…Because he knew where it all went…Because he knew her.

Later, the movie played in the background, rain still coming down — neither of them wanted to leave. The atmosphere was pretty cold as she brought out two blankets…offering one to him…he immediately denied…“Wanna just share?”...He didn’t wait for her to answer, just draped half of it over her. They sat, warm and quiet. A stupid rom-com played, forgotten…They don’t touch. Not really. Their backs were turned. Their hands, almost brushed…

(Y/n) fell asleep first…Hours later, he woke up and found her curled closer in her sleep, head nearly on his shoulder. His arm under her. Like it belonged there. He didn't move. He didn't have to. Because it felt like something that should never be interrupted…

The days almost bleed into each other as only three days are left…The countdown began... The British Grand Prix was long over. Lando's next one loomed over them indicating that he had to leave…and they would go back to (Y/n) pep talking to him every time on call before his practice sessions or quali or race day…

They don’t say it, but they both felt the weight of time. The weight of distance returning. The thought of going back to calls and text bubbles, instead of coffee and shared blankets.

And then Kylie called…

Lando showed up with a bag of groceries and a half-empty box of tea (Y/n) sweared by…Kylie was in sweats, hair in a messy bun. She let him in and nodded toward the couch…“She’s at the shop. I needed to talk to you alone.” She said before going and sitting cross-legged on the couch while Lando awkwardly paced in front of her, a nervous energy about him that didn't match his usual carefree charm… “Do you plan on wearing a hole in my rug, or are you gonna sit down?” Kylie said as she sipped on her cup of tea…

Lando sighed…flopping onto the edge of the couch, and ran a hand through his hair…“She’s just… she makes everything feel like it’s slowing down. Like the noise goes away.”

“You mean like peace?” Kylie said as she smiled gently…He nodded but couldn’t look up to meet her eyes yet…“Yeah. That.”

Kylie watched him as her voice softened…“You know, she thinks she’s easy to leave.” Lando looked up, startled by Kylie speaking suddenly…“She won’t say it out loud. But I see it. Every time you leave — she braces. Like she’s already preparing to be forgotten.”

He swallowed hard. That landed deeper than he expected…“I could never forget her.” Lando let it out like a whisper but Kylie heard it…“I know that. But does she?”

Silence.

“She thinks the people she loves always choose something else over her. Your next race. Her ex. Her old best friend. She’s wired herself to expect it.”

Lando clenched his jaw. The ache of her words settled in his chest.

“She matters, Lando. So much. But she’ll never say it. So if you feel something real, don’t leave her guessing.”

She paused and eyed him with a look that felt she was about to say something that would hit the deepest… 

“You don’t have to win a race to prove it. You just have to show up. Now. While you still can.”

Lando leaned back, heart thudding and for the first time, he felt it — the edge of everything he hadn’t said pressing against the inside of his chest, ready to spill out…But he just nodded.

Because somehow, Kylie always saw right through them both…

The rain was soft but steady, casting a sheen over the sidewalk…(Y/n) was locking up the shop, hoodie pulled up, hair damp. She jumped slightly when she turned and saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, eyes on her like he’d been waiting for hours…A concerned tone laced (Y/n)’s voice as she spoke…

“Lando? What are you—are you okay? It’s pouring.”

He stepped forward, barely flinching at the rain…“I needed to see you.”“Everything alright?”

He hesitated. Then looked at her the way someone does right before jumping off a cliff…“I’m leaving in three days.”...Her expression softens, nodding slowly.

“I know. That’s okay.” Lando shook his head as he stepped a bit closer and gulped…“No. It’s not…She frowned tilting her head…“Lando—” But he cut her off… “You keep saying it’s okay. That you’ll stand by me. And I love that about you. I need that. But it’s not okay for me. Because I don’t want to go back to pretending this isn’t something real.”

Her breath catches. His voice was quieter but urgent, rain catched on his lashes… “You matter more than anything I’ve done this year. More than any podium. More than any trophy. I wanted to win that race for you because... you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to come home to.”

She blinked. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him — like he had said something she had been waiting her whole life to hear…“I’m not asking you to follow me. I’m just asking you to believe that no matter where I go — you’re what I’m coming back for.”...and just like that, something crumbled and rebuilded in the same breath…Raina took a step forward, lifted her hand to his rain-soaked cheek…“Then go. And race. But don’t think for a second I’m standing behind you.”She touched her forehead to his.

“I’ve always been right beside you.” He closed his eyes…and for the first time in months, the noise really did stop…Just rain. Just them…And finally, no more unspoken things between them.

The air was sleepy, mist curling low on the ground. The city hadn’t fully woken…Raina walked Lando down the stairs, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. He was in jeans and a cap, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tired but not from lack of sleep — from trying not to memorize everything about her face one last time…They stopped just outside the building.

Silence hanged…“Text me when you land?” (Y/n) smiled up at him…her arms wrapping around herself as she looked up at him… “I will. Even before, probably. You’ll get sick of me.” Lando smiled down at her as she replied…“Already am…He laughed, but it was a little uneven…They stood there, facing each other. The quiet is weighty in a gentle way — like the calm before something changes. She shifted slightly, like she was about to step back, but he didn't let her…Instead, he tugged lightly at the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I don’t want this to be one of those things we almost said. Or something that fades just because I got on a plane.”...Her eyes lift to his…He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

“So... I was thinking. When I get back…”

He types something. Turned the phone to show her…A reservation screen for a quiet little place by the water. Candlelight. A real table. Her name…

“A proper date. You. Me. No race weekend chaos. Just dinner. And I am trying very hard not to be completely stupid around you.”

Her brows lifted, amused and touched and blinking fast…“You want to date me, Norris?”..He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Kinda already am. Just figured I should make it official before some other idiot realizes how impossible it is not to fall for you.”...Her breath hitches.

She stepped forward and kissed him softly before she wrapped her arms around him, face tucked into his chest, words muffled but full…“You better come back in one piece.”....He leaned his cheek to her hair, holding her tighter than he probably should…“Always. I’ve got someone to come home to now.”

They pull apart slowly, reluctant. The cab waited at the corner…He lingered a second longer. A smile ghost’s Lando’s lips as he walks to the cab…

“Don’t forget — candlelight, good food, and you trying very hard not to fall harder for me.”

(Y/n) called after him…“No promises, Norris!”

He turned, walking backward for a beat, eyes still on her. “Save me a bouquet.” He says with a smile… “Save me a podium.” She replies as she waves softly…

And with that, he goes — but not really gone. Because this time, he’s coming back to her.

©WHOISRAII 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[bonus-links]

Hello! I have art related questions! I wanted to ask where your inspiration comes from for designing and formatting your comic book style? Because the style of the panels flows nicely with the story and compliments your art. And what drawing app/software do you use? Other than that, you’re doing an amazing job and I adore your work! <3

hello, thank you!! I’ve mentioned this before (probably a lot) but Witch Hat Atelier by Shirahama Kamome is a huge inspiration!! And more recently Dungeon Meshi by Ryoko Kui. I literally keep a few volumes of each on my desk to flip through when I’m feeling stuck on layouts 😂 I think my style of paneling is pretty manga-influenced in general, since I’ve read more of those than other styles of comics in my life, but the vertical scroll format and left-to-right orientation of english comics changes how I adapt those influences.

and reading order rlly is like. the most important part. comics might be static, but the animating force is the reader. space on a page=time, and how you divide it up can influence how it appears to pass. All of my choices revolve around how I can get the eye to move around the composition in a way that conveys the story as intended.

as for programs, I use clip studio paint EX. EX has all the comic tools, while I think PRO is limited. I also use Photoshop to color correct after I export bc I have been using clip studio for like half a decade and I still can’t get it to export anything correctly 🫡 i also use a huion display tablet which I have been pretty happy with the last couple years

[guitarhappyman]

🧵 WHAT YOU'RE NOT HEARING: The Chinese cannot replace the U.S. market. Without it, the Chinese economy collapses.

Here's why… China's entire economic miracle was built on ONE thing - being America's cheap manufacturing hub.

The "Chinese miracle" playbook was simple:

• Open markets to the West

• Offer dirt-cheap labor

• Ignore safety standards

• Let Western companies rake in profits

This worked for decades. But China forgot something crucial: others can do this too.

MASSIVE MISCALCULATION: Beijing thought the American leaders they made rich would protect them forever. They believed these corporate puppet masters would never let the US stand up to China.

WRONG. Along came Donald Trump, who owes them nothing.

The numbers don't lie

• US exports to China: $143.5B

• Chinese imports to US: $438.9B

They flood our markets while closing or restricting THEIR markets.

But Trump said: NO MORE

Meanwhile, countries like India, Vietnam, and Bangladesh are CELEBRATING. They're ready to take China's place, AND open their markets to the U.S. - and Trump's willing to deal.

HERE'S what the Enemedia WON'T tell you:

Chinese exporters are PANICKING

• Abandoning shipments mid-voyage

• Factory orders FROZEN

• Container volume DOWN 90%

And this is just the beginning. China can't replace the U.S. market that made it rich.

Reports flooding in:

• Factories shutting down

• Amazon canceling orders

• Stores closing

• Warehouses overflowing

The house of cards is falling. But the Enemedia gives you nothing but Chinese propaganda.

CRUCIAL FACT: America buys 3X more than Japan (China's next biggest customer).

Without us, they're FINISHED. And they were already on the ropes.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

But other countries will step up. And TRILLIONS in new investment are flowing into America, while countless factories LEAVE China.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

The bottom line: China picked a fight they can't win. While America adjusts, the CCP will face the consequences of their refusal to truly open their own markets, or to abandon aggression against their neighbors. Game over. The decoupling is under way.

Rod Martin, Founder and CEO Martin Capital

[apas-95]

What's the exact context behind "export of violence"?

fundamentally there is a certain amount of violence and exploitation required to maintain imperial conditions - an amount that, currently, would be completely untenable to maintain domestically. in order to maintain imperial conditions, the bulk of the violence and exploitation is exported to the imperial periphery - the domestic population no longer being the predominant source of exploited surplus-value nor the predominant recipient of state violence required to maintain said exploitation. instead, large regions are subject to conditions of hardship and repression equivalent to and worse than those of the domestic population prior to its export. the result, within the imperial core, is an illusion of decreasing violence, of extreme destitution and repression being past modes of state operation. the reality is that, as the imperial system collapses, and the ruling class refuses to sacrifice imperial conditions, the sheer volume of violence required to maintain it will be foisted back onto the domestic population day by day - this being the state of failed empires, of the stage of capitalism called 'fascism'.

imperialism is built on the export of capital, of debt, and the violence required to maintain it. fascism is the chickens coming home to roost.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Oldsmobile

April 29'th 2004. The last Oldsmobile rolls off the line. You may be surprised to learn, that for a long time Oldsmobile meant innovation. Here are just a few of the Automotive technologies Olds pioneered in it's 100+ years in business:

1898: Olds Motor Vehicle Company exports the first American car, a steam-powered automobile, to Mumbai, India.

1901: The first speedometer offered on a production car was on an Oldsmobile Curved Dash.

1901: Oldsmobile was the first to procure parts from third-party suppliers.

1901: Olds produces 635 cars, becoming the first high-volume gasoline automobile producer.

1901: Oldsmobile becomes the first manufacturer to publicly promote their vehicles.

1902: The Oldsmobile Curved Dash is the first mass-produced vehicle in America.

1903: Oldsmobile builds the first purpose-built mail truck.

1908: Oldsmobile rebadges the Buick Model B as the Oldsmobile Model 20, possibly creating the first badge-engineered car.

1915: First standard windshield introduced by Oldsmobile.

1926: Oldsmobile is the first to use chrome plating on trim.

1929: Oldsmobile creates the first Monobloc V8 engine in its Viking Sister brand.

1932: Oldsmobile introduces the first automatic choke.

1935: Oldsmobile offers the first all-steel roof on an automobile.

1940: Oldsmobile introduces the Hydra-Matic, the first fully automatic transmission.

1948: Oldsmobile offers one-piece curved windshields, along with Buick and Cadillac.

1949: Oldsmobile introduces the Rocket, the first high-compression OHV V8 engine.

1952: Oldsmobile introduces the "Autronic Eye," the first automatic headlight dimming system.

1953: Oldsmobile switches its lineup to the 12v charging system.

1962: Oldsmobile creates the first production turbocharged car, the F-85 Jetfire.

1962: Oldsmobile also creates the first production car with water injection, the F-85 Jetfire.

1966: The Oldsmobile Toronado is the first mass-produced front-wheel-drive American car.

1969: First use of chromed ABS plastic exterior trim on the 1969 Oldsmobile Toronado.

1969: First electric grid window defogger on an American car, the 1969 Oldsmobile Toronado.

1971: The Oldsmobile Toronado is one of the first cars to feature a high-mounted brake light.

1974: The Toronado is the first American car to offer a driver-side airbag.

1977: The Toronado is the first American car with a microprocessor to run engine controls.

1982: First use of high-impact molded plastic body components on the 1982 Oldsmobile Omega.

1986: Oldsmobile introduces the Delco VIC touchscreen interface on the Toronado, shared with Buick Riviera.

1988: The first production heads-up display system is introduced on the 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme Indy Pace Car.

1988: Oldsmobile breaks a world speed record with the Oldsmobile Aerotech at 267 mph, driven by A.J. Foyt.

1990: Oldsmobile updates the color touchscreen interface with a built-in cellular phone on the 1990 Toronado Trofeo.

1995: Oldsmobile introduces Guidestar, the first onboard navigation system on a U.S. production car.

1997: Oldsmobile becomes the first American car company to turn 100 years old.

2001: The redesigned 2002 Oldsmobile Bravada becomes the first truck to pace the Indianapolis 500.

[doodlemcjazzhands]

OHMIGOSH I love your art style! It’s just framed so perfectly and coloured so well and ahskahdkahjs

I was wondering if you could share some of your steps when you draw? Like sketches, thumbnails, colour blocks, etc.?

Ayoo, thank youu, and of course!

(sorry if these are a bit all over the place. My psd files were a MESS, but here's some of what I could scrounge up)

Thumbnails (complete with my atrocious chicken scratch)...

Colour keys...

Sketches/Line at different stages...

Honestly, my drawing process is all over the place. Always skipping, and going back and forth between steps

But my general pipeline is:

Tiny thumbnails > Make my favorite thumbnail bigger > Draw over top with a better sense of proportion and volume > Colour key based off of sketch or thumbnail > Clean up the line > Colour it > Make more adjustments and add any effects> Do the final crop > Export it 7 million times > Bon appetit ✨

[germanpostwarmodern]

Since 2004 Gabriele Schor has been building up the corporate art collection of the Austrian Verbund AG, the country’s largest electricity provider, with a special focus on women artists and the feminist avant-garde of the 1970s. The coining of the latter term also goes back to Gabriele Schor who has been arguing for the acknowledgment of the term in art history and the public at large for years. Since the term „avant-garde“ characterizes modern artistic movements that assumed a vanguard role, it should apply to the feminist avant-garde as well: their protagonists are united by their pressing for changes in the existing social order of the art world and thus constitute an avant-garde movement. Schor brought to bear the term for the first time in 2010 when she staged „Feministische Avantgarde der 1970er-Jahre. Werke aus der Sammlung Verbund, Wien“ for the first time at Galleria nazionale d’arte moderna in Rome. Since then the exhibition traveled all over Europe and the accompanying eponymous publication has seen three and continuously expanded editions. The present volume is the latest edition, published by Prestel, and can justly be called „bible“: on 688 pages the book presents works of some 100 artists, among them Judy Chicago, Valie Export, Lynn Hershman Leeson, Cindy Sherman or Nil Yalter but also the lesser-known positions of Gerda Fassel, Birgit Jürgenssen or Senga Nengudi. Each of the artists is presented in brief, informative essays as well as works from the Verbund collection that cover a multitude of media from drawings over video to photography and performance. In her informative introduction Gabriele Schor provides a broad overview of the movement that came to life in the wake of the civil rights movements and the student movement. Appropriately she also doesn’t omit the multiple forms of discrimination of Black women, namely in the form of racism, sexism, class and the extensive intersectionality of the black feminist movement, circumstances the universalist, white feminist movement often excluded.

With the third edition of „Feministische Avantgarde der 1970er-Jahre. Werke aus der Sammlung Verbund, Wien“ Gabriele Schor and the numerous authors involved provide a true reference work that showcases both the diversity and the ingenuity of the movement. A must-have!

[thedialoguedilemma]

1- There is no proof that gas anywhere in the United States is $1.98 a gallon. They literally just made this up. As of May 2, 2025, the lowest average gas prices in the United States are found in Mississippi, where regular unleaded gasoline averages $2.66 per gallon with the national average hovering around $3.18 a gallon.

2- Grocery Prices have not gone down. The prices for groceries have remained constant since he took office. Inflation has cooled a bit, but it has been going down since mid 2022.

3- Energy prices and mortgage rates have been on a decline since last year during the last year of the Biden administration. While mortgage rates are down, the housing market remains oversaturated due to lack of home buyers.

4- Tariffs are a tax that is added to imports/exports. Companies pay the tariff tax and then pass on the costs to the consumer. Billions are not coming in from tariffs, those costs are paid for by the American people since companies pass on the cost to the consumers. Amazon was set to reflect the additional tariff tax on the pricing of their products until the Trump administration threatened them earlier this week referring to it as a “hostile act” Companies and retailers such as Microsoft and Target are already hiking up prices due to the tariffs. Shipping ports across the country are low volume because of the tariffs

5- Trump has been President for almost 3 and half months. This is not a transition stage, we are feeling the beginning effects of his economic policies taking shape. Q1 GDP has gone backwards by -0.3% which reflects his first 100 days as President. Just yesterday Trump and JD Vance blamed GDP on Biden claiming it was his economy and now today he’s taking credit calling it his economy. Trump has never taken responsibility or accountability in his life. Don’t expect him to start now.

[initial-dream]

Green Departure

As I mentioned in my post about Sentimental White, Initial D has five chapters that were uncollected in the main volumes (instead being included in guidebooks), and so have been ignored by any export release of the series.

Back in 2023 we released the two chapters that make up Sentimental White, and I am thrilled to announce that we have now released the three chapters of Green Departure.

Green Departure was released 24 years ago in 2001, and was later adapted into 2008's Initial D Extra Stage 2. It follows Mako and Iketani meeting again after their heartbreak in the early part of the series.

You can read all three chapters right now on Mangadex.

I'm so glad all of Initial D is finally readable.

[storm-angel989]

Hi! Are you taking requests? If so, may I have a part 3 of Reader disobeying pls? I just finished part 2 and honestly, if I was her I’d still flinch when Valentino was around, and maybe find a way to sneak in some extra food or cash to any of his “workers”, maybe even working a little too hard as a way to distract herself from potential flashbacks. (I just want the Vees to feel regret over how they handled her behavior…😅😏)I’d really appreciate if you’d put those points in it too! God this is getting long I’m sorry! Either way, hope you’re doing well and I can’t get enough of your work!!!

I am always taking requests! And working on them. I actually had a plan to edit like six other requests I've written and instead I read your request this morning and well....the muses visit when then visit. So as with every single time I make a plan, I tossed everything I had wanted to write and edit today aside to write fourteen google doc pages to complete your request.

Oops! Hope you like it! =)

<3 Mandy

They say silence speaks volumes. 

As the third week of volleyball practice passed, I wondered if anyone in my family had gotten the message. 

Four weeks ago, desperate to try to independently earn my own money, I was inadvertently hired at one of my Uncle Valentino’s clubs. He found out, pulled me out, and I was grounded until further notice. As punishment for pretending to be at volleyball tryouts, they signed me up for eight weeks of the sport. Frustrated after the first practice, I spat out words I didn’t mean, and my family decided that it was time I learned exactly what a privileged life I led. 

It was eye opening and terrifying to see exactly what it was that my Uncle Valentino did. Although it was never outright discussed, from the morning I spent with him in his dingy hotel office, watching him process and contract souls both male and female, and the lineup I saw them go through afterwards, I came to the conclusion that sex work, drugs and Uncle Valentino went hand in hand. 

For the first time in my life, I saw the darker side of my family. The control my father, Vox had over the city in terms of technology and electricity. The hold my Aunt Velvette held over not only the fashion industry and social media- but on all goods imported and exported throughout the pride ring. And Uncle Valentino- every soul that passed through hell went through him first. In exchange for basic survival, he thrust souls into either his clubs, Velvette’s stage, or Vox’s office. He kept them hooked on the drugs he sold in exchange for their labor, for their bodies. 

After all, it took a thousand unpaid hands to run hell. 

The deeper I dug, the more afraid I became of the only people I knew as my family. I spent my study halls researching, reading blogs and articles about them. Known as the Vee’s, the three of them truly were the most powerful overlords in hell. They had their hands in and controlled everything that went on in the pride ring. Gone from my mind was the softness that I knew them for. In its place was this image of their true selves. 

Photos of Valentino with razor sharp teeth, a single one glinting gold, my father as electricity surrounded him and Velvette, surrounded by swirls of purple took the place of those memories. 

I began to dread going home, dread getting into the limo with Uncle Valentino after each practice. But there was no way out. No sneaking past him, or any of them. I was suddenly aware of just how many eyes I truly had on me every single moment of the day. It didn’t matter if my father did someday decide to inject a tracker into my skin. Not when he controlled every camera on every corner of the pride ring. 

I took to hustling from my last class of the day to the girls locker room to get ready. On the days I didn’t have practice, I found myself inadvertently taking his advice to get stronger by either working out in the school gym or swimming laps in the pool. My body was tired, but at least it gave me an excuse to be away from them. 

I took my sweet time getting dressed  and by the time the rest of the girls joined, we needed to be out on the gym floor. As always Valentino was perched up atop the bleachers, either talking on the phone or typing on his laptop. As soon as practice was done with, he met me at the locker room door to escort me out to the limo. 

“How was your day, bebita?” He would ask.

As if he actually cared. Besides, what did my day matter when he had thousands of other women's lives he was destroying? 

“Fine,” I would reply. 

Short one word responses. Answering questions as he asked, but giving no more than he demanded. I tried not to look at him, and instead kept my nose buried in whatever textbook I happened to have in my backpack that day. Three weeks. Three weeks of going through the same routine. 

Now, as I stood just around the corner from the dining room, I could hear them talking over breakfast.

“Vox, I’m worried about her,” Valentino said as he sipped his coffee. “She doesn’t speak. She goes to school, to practice or to the gym, comes home, eats dinner and goes to bed.”

“I mean, isn’t that sort of what we asked of her?” Velvette asked. “The whole point of this was to show her just how fortunate she is.”

“I’ve seen enough broken people in my life to know when something isn’t right,” Valentino retorted. “She’s quiet. She’s definitely losing weight. And she looks like she hasn’t had a good night's sleep since this whole thing began.” 

My father seemed unconcerned. “I’m sorry she had to learn the dark side of hell. I guess it’s a punch to the gut when you realize life isn’t all sunshine and butterflies. She had the privilege of living the first sixteen years of her life in blissful ignorance. Let her stew. Let her be mad. As for her body changes…” he shrugged. “She’s more active now. Hitting the gym. Playing volleyball. Losing weight is expected. She’s eating dinner with us, so I’m not worried. She’s just mad.”  

“I don’t think she’s mad, Vox,”  Valentino replied slowly. “I think she’s afraid. Of us.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Valentino, do you hear yourself? That’s ridiculous. She has no reason to fear us- we’re her family for christ sake we would never hurt her. She knows that.” 

“I’m just saying,” Valentino shrugged. “Maybe Vox should have a talk with her.” 

Vox sighed. “If it would make you feel better, send her up to my office when you two get home tonight, alright? We’ll have a little father daughter heart to heart.” 

Quietly, retreated to my bedroom. Discussion? No. I had read enough at this point to know that my father specialized in mind control. I didn’t want to be any part of any conversation that involved my father, or any of them for that matter. 

And worse? There was no way out of this cage they built. 

“Babydoll! Breakfast!” I heard my fathers voice call from down the hall. 

I could feel the bile rise up in the back of my throat. I swallowed it back and picked up my backpack. I had no desire to sit down and have breakfast with these…monsters. But he couldn’t know that I knew. 

“I’m not hungry,” I called back. “I’ll eat at school!” 

I heard his heavy footsteps fall as they made their way down my hallway. I shrugged my backpack over my shoulders and pushed my bedroom door open to where my father stood on the other side, arms crossed. 

Fear wrapped around my heart as my mind flashed back to the images of him I had seen. My father. A murderer. A control freak. 

“Hey, honey? Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He said as he reached his hand out as if to touch my forehead. 

I jumped back and looked away. The article said to avoid his eyes, if at all possible. 

“Yeah, I- I’m fine. I’m just running late, I’ll see you later. Bye.”

I pushed past him and hurried out towards the elevator door. 

“Practice, after school!” He yelled behind me. “Uncle Val will pick you up.”

“Got it,” I said as I stepped into the elevator. 

The school day passed too quickly. Anxiety clenched my stomach with each passing hour, making concentrating or eating next to impossible. By the time I trudged my way to practice, my head ached and my ears were ringing. I tried to ignore it and sipped on my water as I jumped into the routine. Ten laps. Stretching. Mini games. 

Maybe it was from not eating. 

Maybe it was from dehydration or lack of sleep. 

Maybe it was the anxiety from the realization that the people I loved the most in this world were not good people. 

Whatever reason it may be, I jumped to spike a ball and when I landed, a loud snap echoed through the gym. Instantly, I was on my side as pain shot through my body. 

The game came to an immediate halt. Two of my teammates helped me over to the bleachers as the coach talked to me quietly and gingerly pulled off my sock and sneaker. Dark bruises wrapped like a handprint around my ankle. I could feel Valentino’s eyes on me. When I looked up, he stood behind the crowd, concern scrawled over his features. 

Or at least, what looked like concern. He was pretty good at faking it, after all. Just like he did in his office that day. With those girls. Around me, my teammates fawned. 

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not. Rosa, go grab her backpack,” the coach replied and waved towards one of my teammates. “You’re going to have to get this looked at,”  She turned to look at Valentino. “Do you want me to call an ambulance or…”

“We can take care of it privately,” he replied calmly as he slid his arm under mine. “Lean on me, Bebita…”

“No,” I said sharply.

He gave me a quizzical expression. 

“No..I, I just need my backpack. And maybe my teammates can help me. Uncle Val, can you just have the limo pull around the front?” I said quickly.

He eyed me but took the backpack from my teammates hands and walked ahead of us as two of the other girls slipped their arms under me. Together, we hobbled our way out the front door and Valentino waited as I carefully got into the limo.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” I told them before Valentino got in. “I’ll text you tonight.”

The second the door closed, I scooted as far away from Valentino as I could. Now that I was out of everyone's sight, the pain radiated through my ankle at full force. 

“Put your leg up on the seat, let me take a look,” Valentino said gently. 

“No, keep your hands off me,” I snarled as I pressed further away from him. “I’m fine. Just give me an ice pack. I have the gym tomorrow and practice on Wednesday. I’m fine.” 

“Honey, that ankle looks broken,” he said softly. “This punishment isn’t…”

“You’ve made it very clear what you’re capable of, don’t fucking touch me,” I snapped. 

To my suprise, he pulled away. 

“At least put it up on the seat. Elevation, until we see the doctor,” he replied. “I’m calling your dad now.”

“Don’t bother, I’m fine.”

He didn’t answer. As soon as the limo stopped, he lifted up my backpack and offered his arm. 

“You can’t walk on that,” he said quietly. “Please let me help you.” 

“I’m fine,” I replied as I stepped out good foot first. 

Pain shot through me the second I tried to put weight on it and to my dismay, I felt Valentino’s arm under me. Without a choice, I leaned on him as we walked into the V tower. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a little more firmness. “We’re going upstairs to the nurses office and…”

“I’ll pass on going into your studio,” I snapped as the elevator door opened. “Just leave me alone.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” My father asked as he stepped out of the elevator. “Val, why aren't you carrying her? If it's broken, she shouldn’t be walking on it.”

“She wouldn’t let me,” Valentino replied sharply. 

“Enough of this crap,” Vox hissed with a roll of his eyes. “Since when do you let your teenaged niece boss you around?” 

He walked to the other side of me and slid his arm under mine. 

“No, Dad. Don’t! Let me be, please!” I begged. 

“You’re hurt. Why are you acting like this? Why won’t you let us help you?” He demanded as he lifted me up into his arms. 

I closed my eyes tightly. I felt him move and heard the elevator door close. 

“Reader? What are you doing?” He asked. For the first time, I heard concern in his tone. “Why are your eyes shut like that?”

I didn’t answer. 

“I told you..” Valentino said softly with a sign. 

“I asked you a question,” Vox said as the elevator door pinged again. “Reader. Answer me. Your Uncle Val seems to think you’re afraid of him. Afraid of me. Is that true?”

I didn’t answer and instead kept my eyes tightly closed. The familiar scent of strawberries filled my nose, but instead of the usual comfort, all I could feel was fear. Each step he took brought me closer to where I was sure I would be drugged, sure I would be hypnotized, sure I would be forced into…

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt my father lay me down on one of the beds. I heard the curtain pull shut and footsteps walk away.  I opened my eyes ever so slightly. Sure enough, the familiar bright lights shone back at me. I was in the nurse's office in Valentino’s studio. 

And I was alone. 

I pushed myself upright and assessed myself. Every part of me ached and my ankle throbbed painfully. Tears welled up in my eyes, tears and I tried to bite them back. The sound of the curtain being pulled back and I shut my eyes tightly. 

“Would it make you feel better if you got a little honesty?” My Aunt Velvette’s voice floated across the room. “Don’t worry. Both your Dad and Uncle Valentino are talking to the doctor. It’s just us.”

“You guys are monsters, why should I trust any of you?” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You lied to me my entire life, you…”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Velvette perched herself on the edge of the bed. “Sweetheart, we live in hell. The people who come through…”

“Don’t deserve to be sold as sex slaves,” I said angrily. “Or forced to work as models, or stuck under hypnosis by my Dad or…”

“Is that what you think we do? Where do you get your information from?” She asked with amusement. “Not for nothing, but there are a few things wrong with your theory.”

“Oh, so Uncle Valentino isn’t in the sex business? He doesn’t sell drugs? You don’t control the product distribution and my father doesn’t control every single bit of technology and electricity that exists in the pride ring?” I said as I pushed myself more upright. 

“No, those things are true. And what we do at its core is probably more wrong than right. But we’re not monsters. Valentino isn’t selling these women- his contract provides an out. A consent clause. I could choose to cut off production and supplies at any given point. But I don’t. And your father…well, your father wouldn’t use his powers on you unless the circumstances were extreme. And I do mean extreme,” Velvette said softly. “And none of us would intentionally hurt you.”

I felt my anger grow. “You decided that because I wanted to make my own money…”

“No,” she cut me off. “That wasn’t why you got in trouble to begin with. You got in trouble because you lied to us, took your tracker off and decided to go work in a sex club. And yes, we enrolled you in volleyball and yes, you made a snarky comment that scared the shit out of Valentino. I’m not saying how he and your father reacted was right, but I am telling you they love you dearly.” She leaned forward, “someday you too will be an overlord in hell. Someday you too will have the responsibility to these souls that we have. It’s not going to be perfect. And it’s not always going to be right- we live in hell, sweetheart. Handling the darkness is part of what we do.”

I was quiet as I considered her words. A few moments later, the doctor walked in, followed by Vox and Valentino. Velvette stood up and the doctor looked over my ankle. 

One x-ray later, a broken ankle was the diagnosis and an orthopedic specialist was on his way.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you drank anything?” Vox asked as the nurse looked over my veins.

I stayed quiet as the nurse wiped the crook of my arm. Normally, Uncle Valentino would be the one to put an IV in. But now that I knew why he was so damn good at it, I didn’t want his hands anywhere near me. 

“I’m going to try to do this in one shot, but your veins are pretty small,” she told me. 

I winced as she stuck and restuck me. The third time she pulled the needle out, I burst into tears. 

“No more, I can do it without pain meds, I swear!” I sobbed. “Please, just stop.” 

Valentino handed me a tissue and gave the nurse a writhing look. 

“Leave it,” he growled. “You’re done. Either get someone competent or…”

“Uncle Val, stop. It isn’t her fault! I’m the idiot who didn’t drink all day!” I sobbed. “Just stop!” 

He reached forward as if to take my hand but seemed to think better of it. 

“Show me your arms, bebita. Please?” He asked quietly. 

Hesitantly, I showed him both my arms and he carefully studied the veins. 

“I can probably stick you, if will you let me?” He asked softly. “Please, conejito. You don’t want him to set it without some sort of relief. It isn’t good for your body to be under that much strain.” 

I closed my eyes. The pain was increasing with each passing moment. He was right- I couldn’t take much more of this. Ever so slightly, I nodded my consent. 

True to his word, a single pinch later and I could feel the cold saline seeping into my veins and the pain slowly eased up. Nausea washed over me and the bile from earlier crept back up my throat. I felt my father’s hands pull my hair back and Valentino shoved a bin onto my lap. I coughed as I emptied what little was in my stomach into the basin. 

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” Vox said as he braided my hair back. “I knew you didn’t look good this morning.” 

“I just didn’t have time to eat today,” I whispered. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

Valentino visibly bristled. “You are very much not fine. You…” He let his voice trail off and instead brushed the hair out of my face. “I’ll get the nurse to give you something for the nausea. After that, if I get you saltines, will you eat them? Maybe drink some apple juice or ginger ale?”

I shook my head no. “I’d rather have an apple or fruit or something. And water.”

“Not on a sick tummy, crackers or dry cheerios,” Velvette interjected with a shake of her head. “You don’t do well with anything else.” 

Defeated, I closed my eyes as I listened to both their footsteps walk away. How was it that these three, that all I read about them, all that I knew…were tending to me so carefully? That the same man who sized demons up and down, sold drugs and made a deal for their soul would ever so carefully slip a needle into my arm? That my father, the overlord of technology, would hold my hair back as I got sick? I couldn’t wrap my head around it, around the stark difference between the demons I grew up with and what I saw in Valentino’s office. The demons who were in the hospital room with me now, and the ones I read about on the internet. 

“The nurse is coming by with zofran,” Valentino said as he pushed the curtain back. “It will help settle your tummy. Velvette went upstairs to grab you something to nibble on.” 

“I don’t get it,” I said softly. 

“What don’t you get?” Vox asked. 

I hesitated. At that moment, the nurse came in and Valentino plucked the vial from her hands. She set a cup of apple juice on the table and he shooed her away. 

“Just for the nausea,” he explained as he injected the line. As soon as it was in, he picked up the cup of juice and lifted the straw to my lips. “Sip, then talk to us. “We’ve always had an open discussion in this family. What’s bothering you so much?”

I took a sip of juice and swallowed. “You, and Dad and Auntie Velvette, what you do is just wrong,” I said finally. “You hurt people, you punish people, you…Dad, you use mind control to literally take over companies, Uncle Valentino you sell drugs and Auntie Velvette she…she literally ruins people’s lives on social media and decides when and where there will be supply shortages and it isn’t okay! And then you turn around and treat each other and me like…like this!” 

“Woah, woah woah,” Vox said softly. “Where did you learn all that?”

Valentino crossed his arms and gave Vox a ticked off look. “What did I tell you? She should have never gone with me. I told you, I fucking told you!”

“Damn it Valentino, calm down. She was bound to find out the truth sooner or later. Now it’s up to us to sort fact from fiction,” Velvette said as she pushed the curtain back. She pressed a bag of cheerios into my hand, “here. Nibble on these.” 

“I don’t want to,” I said as I rubbed my eyes. “I…”

“You need to get something in your tummy, otherwise you won’t feel better,” Vox said, “Just a little. And listen to what we have to say, okay? Can you agree to that?”

Without seeing any other option, I nodded and put a cheerio in my mouth. My father looked to Valentino and Velvette.

“We..shouldn’t have introduced you to our work lives that way. I shouldn’t have made you…I should have done things differently, I’m sorry.” Vox said quietly. “You didn’t need to see your Uncle Valentino in that role. I wish I could take it back.”

“You’re not going to hypnotize me, are you? Make me forget?” I asked fearfully. “Daddy, I…”

“No, no no…no. Absolutely not,” he replied quickly. “No. You're my daughter and I wouldn’t do that to you. Not now, not ever.”

“So it is true. You can do that. I mean, I always sort of knew what you three were. Sort of knew you were hot shot overlords, but I didn’t realize that…how bad you…” 

Vox held up his hand. “The things we do, we do them because that is our job. We do our best to balance the good and bad in hell. We’re not without compassion, but we have a job to do. A job that provides housing, food, clothing, basic necessities to both hellborn and fallen. There are downsides to things and maybe, maybe when you’re a little older you’ll have different ideas, ways to do things better. But for now, this is our job.” He swallowed. “My mistake was trying to teach you a lesson, and mixing the life we’ve built at home with the businesses we run each day. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I hate that I made you so afraid,” Valentino added quietly as he sat down on the bed next to me. “Princessa, you are my little girl. You always have been. I don’t want you to flinch away in fear. I’m sorry for what you saw. And I’m sorry I frightened you so, so badly. How can I show you I’m not…how can I show you you don’t need to fear me?” 

I swallowed. “Uncle Valentino, let me…I want to be more involved in this business. I want to learn the process myself, understand it for myself.” 

The three of them exchanged glances. Hesitantly, I saw my father nod. 

“Alright, fine. We…we can do that. But not just Uncle Valentino’s responsibilities. All of ours. And…” he sighed. “And I’m going to put you on the payroll. Checks deposited into a private account with just your name on it. That’s what started this entire thing anyway, isn’t it?” 

“Dad, why do you look so upset? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that…”

“Thrilled?” Emotions rushed across Vox’s face, a mix of pain and sadness.  “You think I’m happy knowing we made you so afraid, so terrified of us? I worked so hard- we worked so hard so that you could have a normal childhood- a life without care, without worry. I wanted you to not have to go through the struggles we went through when we were sixteen, I wanted you to enjoy…I wanted you to enjoy being sixteen.” 

For the first time in my life, I saw my father looked defeated. 

“You know, she doesn’t have to give up being sixteen,” Velvette said as she put her hand on Vox’s shoulder. “We can start to introduce her to the family business and let her enjoy school and let her do all the stuff we didn’t get the chance to do.”

“She’s still your ninita, and you’re still her Papito,” Valentino added. “Besides, we’ve always had an open door policy.” 

“Daddy, what was your childhood like? Auntie Vel, Uncle Val I…”

At that moment the next doctor walked into the room. I groaned inwardly as he introduced himself to the adults in the room. 

“You’re a lucky girl,” he told me as he hung my x-rays. “You missed requiring surgery, but setting it will be painful. I’m going to have the nurse give you a dose of something extra strong so you don’t feel anything.” 

“Just, just give the vials to my Uncle Valentino, he can do it,” I said hesitantly. 

“You sure, bebita?” Valentino asked as the nurse brought over the supplies. 

I nodded and watched him wash his hands and pull on gloves for the second time that day. “What..will you tell me what you’re giving me?”

I saw his expression soften. 

“Of course, bebita,this first one is for pain,” he said soothingly as he uncapped the vial and slowly pushed down on the plunger. “Now before I give you the next, tell your Dad what color you want your cast. You can have any two colors you choose.”

“Purple and red?” I asked hopefully as I looked at him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Vox assured me. He sat down on the bed next to me, took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I love you.”

“I love you too Daddy.”

“This next one is going to make you not care about what the doctor is doing or anything else that happens for the next few hours,” Valentino continued. “Once this is in your bloodstream, you’re going to feel a little sleepy. Just relax, when the doctor is done we’ll bring you upstairs to your own bed, okay?” 

Velvette perched herself on the bed next to my father and patted my uninjured leg. “Don’t worry sweetheart, once we get you all patched up we’ll make a plan. No more secrets, okay?”

I nodded and let the drug Valentino pushed into my body start to work. True to his word, I wasn’t exactly sleeping, but I certainly didn’t care too much about what the doctor was doing. The next thing I knew, I was snuggled into my own bed with my father sitting next to me. 

“Sleep, babygirl,” he said softly. “We’ll talk more in the morning. I promise.”

I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Maybe I could trust them after all.