#never realize. which is why i often try to understand why i don't like something that is popular in fandom by reading other views

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'll never write it because it hits a bit too close home for me to write it without mental strain (I'd read it okay tho...) but I have a very specific scenario in my head so—

Bradley gets the same type of cancer his mom died from.

I imagine it's lung or pancreas cancer because I've seen those and they can be quite aggressive or progressive depending on type. In my head, Carole was in her late thirties/early forties at the latest when she got sick and I imagine it was unexpected and quick, as it often is with young cancer.

The thing is, people deal with cancer diagnosis differently in so many ways — some are in complete denial, some try to stay optimistic for their family, and some just... give up.

Bradley's seen enough cancer and death that he can't deny it but he also can't ever believe he has any luck left in life.

He's in his late 20s. He's just been proposed as his squad's candidate for Top Gun. The DADT just got removed. He has a long-term, serious partner (Jake) who he might not be completely open about everything yet but whom he loves and plans to marry and who loves him back. They're planning on buying a house, Jake talks about having kids. Bradley met Jake's family and his life didn't blow up and they even liked him. The years after he stopped talking to Mav were tough, but he's feeling as settled and as happy with his life as he can be at the time.

He goes to his routine physical as normal, maybe his spirometry comes up short or maybe his bloods are a bit off, or maybe he's just feeling more tired than normal and the doc has a feeling.

Doc informs him about the suspicions, he gets the tests done and it turns from suspicion to reality. At no point Bradley mentions it to Jake. He's taken off flying schedule, sure, but he doesn't tell anyone why, just making something up about his eyesight getting worse or maybe about a recurring ear or sinus infection.

Even if the diagnosis wasn't that bad and the oncologist was optimistic prognosis-wise, Bradley, who has already heard the exact same words about his mom's diagnosis, wouldn't believe it at all. Maybe he wouldn't believe it at all to the point that he'd refuse treatment and just let life run its course.

He'd start planning.

Get everything sorted out while he can. Make it as painless for everyone as much as he can.

And it starts small and escalates quickly. He updates his will, he has a med leave meeting with his superiors, advocates for a transfer to an office role.

He breaks up with Jake, still not telling him a thing. Just so he doesn't have to go through it with Bradley as well — because he knows he'd. And you bet he does the break up in a way that pisses Jake off to the point he doesn't realize how suspicious everything is — the timing, the medical leave, Bradley changing from 'let's buy a house together and have kids' to 'i don't think we can really work out together' on the span of weeks. He's brash in the worst way, and obviously, it also makes their friend group wary and isolates him — which was exactly his plan.

There's one person who he knows will be forever guilty if they don't talk. So, you know, he takes a trip down to China Lake and he and Mav talk. He says all the right things he knows Mav wants to hear — that he forgives him, that he's not mad anymore, that he understands, that he still considers Mav his sort of dad and that he was pissed but he's ready to move on. Maybe Mav does the unexpected and explains to Bradley why he pulled the papers and maybe Bradley actually forgives him.

So, you know, with that Bradley is all ready to take on everything alone, never have anyone find out and just start, well, dying on his own, medical partial leave, all of his stuff sold or written into the will, potential transfer to a paper-pushing position in Point Mugu, far away from everyone who could ever care about him, any people who could ever be affected at all by his illness in the blind.

He was not counting on one thing, though — that Mav, forgiven and missing over ten years of Bradley's life, will try to be part of his life again. Calls, visits — Bradley can't really keep it hidden that he's just rolled over his life in the span of weeks, even if he doesn't not why. Bradley was young when his mom got sick but not that young — he remembers how Mav took it, he's not going to retraumatize him.

But it's really hard not to let Mav know too much when he's asking about everything, and he mentions Jake once and Mav runs wild with the information. First starts to prod Bradley, then tries to do his own investigation and finds out that Jake was stationed at the same base and that they had been together before they broke up abruptly not long ago.

He thinks he's connected the dots — Bradley's weird behavior has to be due to heartbreak, y'know — and tries to play a bit of a wingman by approaching Hangman on his own.

The two people Bradley is trying to keep in the blind meet and realize something is fishy. Jake not only gets hit with the face with Bradley's estranged dad existing but also not being estranged anymore and with that Bradley is acting freaking weird. Mav gets hit in the face because it was Bradley who did the breaking up in the nastiest way possible (and he raised him better than that and also can still see he's got the sad lovesick puppy face whenever Mav tries to bring Jake up) but also with the realization that whatever Bradley is doing, he's got them fooled.

In the end, I think it'd be Ice who figures it out (whether or not he and Mav are together in this scenario). Hears all about it from Mav and Jake and has this moment when it all kind of spins in his head, his own experiences and feelings making a callback, and just tells them, it sounds like he's preparing for a goodbye.

Needless to say, Jake is pissed, Mav is pissed. They stage an intervention and you know that Bradley coughs up (probably in some dramatic way as well... like getting sick to the point they call an ambulance for him...). They definitely freak out when they find out he's been refusing treatment this whole time.

(I don't want to go into actual details of treatment but you can bet Mav and Jake are fucking glued to him from then on and they watch him like hawks. It's not all roses and I don't believe it'd be a quick treatment, probably running long, having better and worse days. Maybe he won't even be able to fly afterwards, once he's in remission. Maybe he never goes into remission. I don't know, I don't like thinking that far...)

[pathetic-sapphic]

arcane characters and their toxic traits in a relationship?

Arcane characters and their toxic traits

a/n: it is almost 5 am so i haven't proofread it yet ;; hope you'll enjoy it regardless

VI

Tries to take on all the burden and suffering on her shoulders. She never wants you to get hurt or to bother you so she'd rather suffer in silence. This greatly affects your communication as she may get distant whenever she's dealing with some problems, which in turn may make you think that you did something wrong and that she's ignoring you. This simply comes from a traumatic past where Vi always had to take accountability and sacrifice herself for others. She will work on it once she sees the way it affects your relationship though. She just doesn't want to be a burden.

JINX

Very insecure when it comes to your love and loyalty towards her. Jinx is so used to thinking that everyone will eventually abandon her and you're the one person she really cannot lose. Because of this, she will often come off as overprotective and possessive. You will need to make your boundaries clear and reassure her often. Because she's so scared of losing you, sometimes she will go to drastic ends in order to make sure you're still happy with her and don't want to break up. Can also be very impulsive and has trouble sticking to the plans you two made.

CAITLYN

Can come off as insensitive when it comes to finances. Of course, she understands that many people aren't quite as well-off and Caitlyn genuinely cares for everyone but sometimes she doesn't quite understand how affluent she is. She might overwhelm you with expensive gifts, luxurious trips or over the top galas. She won't understand if you're ever hesitant when buying something or why you always make sure to see what's on sale at the market. It will take some time getting used to and you'll have to explain to Caitlyn the differences between your upbringings. Caitlyn isn't a judgemental partner, she just likes to spoil you, though she will tone it down if she notices you getting uncomfortable.

EKKO

Very stubborn when it comes to asking for or receiving help. He will push you away and hide his wounds or problems from you. Ekko is just so used to handling things on his own that he hates the idea of letting you bear his burden. He needs a long talk with you where you'll show him your support and help him realize the importance of confiding in one another. Ekko doesn't realize that it isn't a one-sided thing, meaning that if he helps you out when you need it, you'd do the same for him. Sure, he has the Firelights, many of them who are his friends but he rarely felt comfortable enough to confide in anyone. It's easy to forget that he is just a boy, trying to shoulder the weight of the world, and that he doesn't have to do it all alone.

SEVIKA

Surprisingly inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. Sevika rarely gets attached to someone, beyond the sexual sense. For her, lovers are people she sleeps with to release the tension and frustration that builds up during her shift. She never truly had a partner, someone to whom she can show her soft side, someone who will cherish her beyond her body and money. Because of this, she often struggles with showing love towards her partner in a non-sexual way or a way that doesn't include physical touch. Words. That is the biggest problem for Sevika; expressing her appreciation and adoration through kind declarations is something that will take a while for her to learn.

SILCO

Silco is often too focused on his cause towards Zaun and forgets his other priorities besides that one. This causes him to overwork and come off as cold towards anyone he deems a threat to his goal. Because of this, he may ignore his partner whenever he's stressed out and deep into work. He's also rarely home, and since he isn't a fan of PDA, it can be hard to deal with the feeling of missing him so much. He tries to make it up to you with gifts but you'll need to explain to him that such luxurious things cannot replace his touch and company.

VANDER

Similar to Vi (where do you think she got that trait from?), Vander is so used to shouldering everything on his own. He wants to assure for you to live a comfortable and fulfilled life, even at the cost of his own happiness. He works tirelessly to keep the Last Drop and the Lanes afloat and seldom shares the workload with you. You can see how the stress wears him down but he will deny it until he completely bursts under pressure. Vander doesn't understand how much it hurts to see him like this, but some kind words and gentle touches can help when coaxing him into leaning on you too.

VIKTOR

Workaholic who never takes care of himself. So burdened down with the little time that he has left, Viktor doesn't plan to waste any of it by doing trivial stuff such as eating or resting. As loving as he is, Viktor can be an insanely stubborn partner. You'll probably have to hoist him over your shoulder and lock the door to his office in order to take him away from work for a couple of hours. He doesn't realize just how detrimental the negligence when it comes to taking care of himself is to his health. You need to explain to him that he won't get anywhere by working himself to the grave and you'll probably have to beg him to let you take care of him.

JAYCE

As smart as he is when it comes to his field of work, Jayce can be quite dense and heedless of other people's feelings. If you're the type of person who doesn't know how to talk about their problems or struggles with communication, there will be some issues in your relationship with Jayce. He's the type of person who asks you what's wrong and, once you give him a half-assed 'Nothing, I'm fine.', he goes all 'okay :D', pats your back and wanders off. You need to be direct and blunt with him because hints and exaggerated sighs simply won't do the trick.

MEL

Mel is an incredibly intelligent woman who knows how to get what she wants. This means that she can be quite manipulative at times, I mean you have to be if you want to succeed in politics. She'd never act that way with you on purpose, of course not, but it may happen unintentionally. She is also another workaholic who may appear too cold with her feelings but this is simply because she's hesitant to bring her walls and defenses down. It'll take a lot of time and patience to see her vulnerable side.

GRAYSON

Grayson is sort of a combination between Viktor and Vander; works too much and is too selfless for her own good. Grayson takes her job very seriously, safety of the citizens is of the utmost importance to her. This leads to her neglecting her own well-being and health. Lots of caffeine and many long nights in the office are spent by Piltover's Sheriff and, the older she gets, the more it wears down on her. It's hard to ignore the bags under her eyes or the tiredness in her voice as she drags herself into your shared home late at night.

AMBESSA

Quite cold and guarded, someone who doesn't appreciate or understand feelings like mercy or kindness. She believes that every single person is inherently selfish and wants something from her. This is why she doubts your good nature so much in the beginning. It has been a long time since Ambessa let herself get involved romantically with someone so she has a lot of re-learning to do. This may come with a cost of your feelings being hurt from time to time, especially if you're a sensitive and kind-hearted person. As much as Ambessa loves you and tries to show that, it isn't easy to sweep years of experience under the rug. You'll need to be strong while she gets used to upholding a romantic relationship.

CASSANDRA

Cold and regal, oftentimes comes off as strict. Cassandra only wants the best for you but sometimes she just doesn't know how to say it. So instead she might go behind your back in order to ensure your safety and happiness. This often backfires, especially because of your opposing opinions. You feel as if she's treating you like a child while Cassandra simply thinks that she's looking out for you. Is also insanely stubborn, it'll take time for her to learn to look at things from your perspective.

[zukosdualdao]

i know some people take the moment of azula speaking up in the flashback to the war meeting in sozin's comet as azula trying to "protect zuko" after he starts (while carefully choosing his words) disagreeing with ozai, but i really can't see it that way.

even aside from the fact that i don't think we should ever argue that her advocating for genocide here was a good thing, based on everything else about their relationship, i can't see this moment as anything but her once again trying to establish dominance and superiority over zuko. it actually reminds me of a different scene, all the way back from the flashbacks in zuko alone.

in both situations, ozai is testing his children in a way, and when zuko can't or won't give the "right answer", azula interjects and is able to say exactly what he wants to hear.

in zuko alone, of course, ozai is asking them questions that seem to be related to whatever (heavily inundated with propaganda, clearly) schooling they get. something that i find really interesting is that zuko doesn't seem to only struggle with firebending, but with his schooling as well. which isn't exactly surprising: abused kids often have trouble in school, and that seems particularly likely when ozai is already treating zuko like he is weak, incompetent, and unworthy in other areas. it's a self-fulling prophecy, on ozai's part: he demeans zuko for not being good at firebending (and perhaps for not being good in school), and, because kids are very naturally going to clam up and not get better at something when they're treated as worthless for any perceived flaw, it affects his ability to build his skills or performance in school.

but i think there's also a way in which zuko probably struggles to keep up in school because he's receptive to the values ursa tries to instill in him from a young age. he probably doesn't realize the things they are learning are things that are morally wrong, but there's a way, at this point, in which he can't relate to them, can't understand the motives of why it would be considered a good thing to defeat an enemy in such a brutal way when it runs so counter to the values of kindness ursa is trying to instill in her children, be it by explaining that throwing bread at turtleducks is not nice or that we shouldn't wish death on other family members.

by contrast, the emphasis on azula here is that she's clearly fully bought into the propaganda, that she respects and admires the brutality of the tactics. (also, is it just me, or does she sound a little like she's reciting a textbook, albeit with a lot of glee?) and notably, at the end, when she gets the answer 'right', she side-eyes zuko with a smug smirk. just like she does in sozin's comet as she's told she's right.

just for comparison's sake:

the situation in the sozin's comet flashback is different, of course, because they're not being quizzed on their schoolwork so much as they are being asked to put what they've learned about war and tactics into practice. zuko has a lot more understanding now than he did as a much younger child of the realities of war because he's seen it up close. and because of that, not only can he not condone or suggest any of the brutal and egregious tactics that are clearly expected of him, but he actually says something in defense of the earth kingdom, albeit trying to choose his words carefully, and with ozai (quite possibly willfully?) misinterpretating them.

to suggest that azula is protecting zuko here is its own form of a willful misinterpretation. you have to ignore the entire context of their relationship, azula's established motivations, and the tone of the scene itself to come to that conclusion. she does not interrupt zuko to keep him from saying something that will get him hurt, but because she wants to prove once again that she's better, that she's right and he's wrong, that he’ll never catch up. but zuko is starting to realize that he doesn’t and shouldn’t want to.

[lenaellsi]

I'm wondering how much of the fandom reaction of "Aziraphale doesn't ACTUALLY want Crowley to be an angel, he just wants to keep him safe/happy!" is because we spent four years between seasons assuming that Aziraphale had already accepted that Heaven and Hell aren't all that different, and that demons and angels aren't inherently good or bad. And it's difficult to let go of that idea in the same way that it's difficult to let go of the idea that they talked their shit out That Night At Crowley's Flat and have been happy ever since. But to actually understand Aziraphale's choice without hiding it behind coffee or lies or secret plans or body swaps or magic tricks or purely romantic intentions, we have to to understand that Aziraphale is still working under an incorrect framework of the world as divided into Cosmic Good and Cosmic Evil.

Because the thing is. Aziraphale does not like that Crowley is a demon. He just doesn't. We can talk about his reasons, but I really don't think that it's a disputable fact at this point. Aziraphale CONSTANTLY talks down to Crowley about the differences between them, and disparages demons in general and Crowley in particular over and over again. I mean, he's obviously just spewing the party line at this point, but he even describes the ultimate triumph of Heaven over Hell as "rather lovely." To Crowley. Where does he think Crowley fits, in that scenario? Is he thinking about it? (He is, surely, given how distressed he is over the danger Crowley is in due to the Arrangement?)

Crowley, to be fair, often says similar things about himself, and hates when Aziraphale calls him things like 'nice.' But as I've mentioned in another post, I think 2.03 makes it all but canon that a lot of that is self-preservation. Hell can't know that he's running around saving children and rescuing people from suicide and poverty, or he'll get dragged down there for decades. Crowley doesn't really think of himself as evil--he's visibly upset during their argument when Aziraphale hits him with "you're the bad guys!" because he thinks Aziraphale knows him better than that.

But instead, Aziraphale makes knee-jerk assumptions about Crowley and his intentions over and over again, including that he's behind the Reign of Terror in Paris and, about two minutes before realizing he's in love with him, that he's working with Nazis. Crowley seems annoyed and hurt both times, and denies it. There's no demonic posturing from him then.

Which makes the Job ep really interesting, right? Because Crowley actively lies and says that he is doing the properly demonic thing, but Aziraphale doesn't buy it. And why doesn't he buy it?

"I know the angel you were."

To Aziraphale, Crowley's kindness stems from the traces of that angel he knew. He thinks Crowley does good in spite of his nature, and not because of who he is as a person, life experiences as a demon very much included. This is because to Aziraphale, Heaven is Good, and all goodness must stem from it.

I've seen people get accused, when making this point, of attacking Aziraphale, or saying that he doesn't love Crowley, which is a ridiculous takeaway from S2. I've never seen a person more obviously in love, or a person more obviously trying to do good in the world. But so much of Aziraphale is tied up in his ability to believe multiple contradictory things at once. (See: the 80 years between "maybe there is something to be said for shades of gray" and "Heaven is the side of truth, of light, of good.") That doesn't make him stupid or ill-intentioned (in fact, he wouldn't need to do the kind of mental gymnastics we see from him if he wasn't clever enough to see through at least some of the bullshit) but it does mean that he's fully capable of loving Crowley while at the same time believing that demons are 'the bad guys.' Solution? Make Crowley an angel. Fix him, fix the bad apples in Heaven, be happy together, eliminate human suffering. Vavoom. Sorted.

Idk man. I'm constantly seeing takes that just...completely discount that Aziraphale really, genuinely, has misunderstood Crowley and the way the world works in his choice to return to Heaven. We can't blame it all on miscommunication. The most honest conversation in the world wouldn't fix this. Aziraphale has to go up there, without Crowley, and learn for the last time that Heaven is not Good, and will never be Good, because there is no Good. Good doesn't come from Heaven, or God, or even Crowley (and I see y'all, putting Crowley on a pedestal, saying Aziraphale wants to remake Heaven in his image--stop it.) Good comes from making the choice, in a very complicated world, to help as best you can, and it comes from love. And that's what Aziraphale will learn in season 3.

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

[copperbadge]

hi, i had a medium to big question. in your post about the adhd self-help book you mentioned people with adhd being conditioned to be nonconfrontational, but i've never once in my entire life connected the two? can you break down the connection for me so that i can once again (this week, even) have my understanding of my own condition blown wide open?

So, you are not the only person to ask about this, but that's on me for being unclear -- I wasn't trying to assert that kids with ADHD are automatically conditioned to be nonconfrontational, I was more trying to be like "Hey not everyone needs lessons in medical self-advocacy but a lot of nonconfrontational people do." And I think there is a higher population of people with neurodivergence who are deeply confrontation-averse, but I don't have like, numbers for that, it's just an assumption based on other knowledge.

It gets complicated; ADHD is a disease based heavily in acting impulsively against your best interests. But yeah I do think people with ADHD are often conditioned to avoid confrontation because of two main factors: rejection-sensitive dysphoria and executive dysfunction.

RSD, which I hate perhaps more than any other symptom or behavior associated with ADHD, automatically kicks our nervous system into high gear in social situations and encodes embarrassing moments in our memory with high-def clarity. Because RSD naturally causes a level of anxiety around socialization, it tends to make us nonconfrontational simply because a) we don't want to be yelled at, b) we don't want to embarrass ourselves by getting emotional about something that may not warrant it, and c) by the time we realize what's happening our body is already on high alert which means we are likely to go into fight-flight-freeze mode.

Me, I freeze, usually, but none of those three options are great for fast thinking during an argument. I used to lose arguments a lot simply because I couldn't think or react as fast as the neurotypical person I was fighting with, so I simply stopped having fights. Notably, I did not have this problem when fighting with my brother, who is also neurodivergent and has many of the same freeze reactions I do.

If people disagree with me, even when I know I'm right I also know I probably won't be able to vocalize it properly, so I back down. Usually it's trivial so it doesn't matter, and I've gotten strategic about how and when I argue about things that do matter; it's also a lot easier to do with strangers or professionals (like doctors) where I don't have to worry about long-term social repercussions. But yeah, our own nervous system tells us "hey maybe don't pick this fight" about every single fight and if we do pick that fight, it treats our opponent as a dangerous predator.

Executive dysfunction's interaction with nonconfrontation is something I have less problem with because while I do have poor executive function, I've spent a lot of time and energy training myself to cover the Important Stuff. I have mild ADHD so I'm capable of this; I'm not trying to say everyone with ADHD is, because lord knows it's exhausting for me and I've been doing it for roughly thirty years. But essentially, I cover where it counts: if someone needs me to do something I do it, I meet deadlines, I pay bills.

So with that disclaimer in place, a very common issue especially for children with undiagnosed ADHD is that they'll be told or asked to do something and simply be unable to begin or complete it, then when they're asked why they didn't do it they can't explain. Even if they try to explain that they simply couldn't, like they were incapable of doing it for reasons they don't understand, that usually doesn't hold water with a lot of parents and teachers.

"I couldn't bring myself to write this essay," is actually something I told myself a few times in college, but it's not something I'd bother trying to tell someone else, because if you think you're neurotypical that sounds very insane. So I'd lie and say I forgot, or I'd take the fail, or I'd simply drop out of the class. Crucially I would not fight with the authority figure who was questioning me about it, because I knew I wouldn't be able to explain myself, and I'd just end up getting in more trouble for longer.

Our culture is structured for neurotypicals, and it's not even structured for all neurotypicals. Behavior that deviates from Approved Neurotypical even when you think you are Approved Neurotypical is highly punishable. So if your options are passivity, even when passivity leads to pain, or confrontation, most people who aren't Approved Neurotypical will opt for passivity once they've had a taste of where confrontation leads. I know I do.

And the thing is, there's nothing actually wrong with that. It's a strategy calculated to minimize pain. Even when I'm firing on all cylinders on a fresh dose of Adderall, I still generally let fights go unless there will be actual real consequences, because it's just not worth it. But knowing we have ADHD and knowing we fall into this pattern, I think it is good to be aware that sometimes letting a fight go is really going to fuck you, and at that point even being bad at it is better than not engaging.

I'm pretty good at calculating those, but it's a lifelong process, knowing which hills to die on when you assume you will automatically die if you ever get above sea level.

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

[romanticintheory]

Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.

AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(

also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.

johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)

-

-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.

-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.

-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.

-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).

-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.

-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.

-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.

-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"

-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.

-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.

-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.

-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"

-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"

-"come live with me."

-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.

-"what?"

-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?

-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).

-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.

-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.

-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)

-"you hurt me!"

-"oh, please."

-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.

-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.

-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.

-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.

-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.

-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.

-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).

-"you're injured. you came home late."

-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.

-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.

-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"

-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.

-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.

-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.

-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.

-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.

-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.

-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"

-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"

-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.

-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.

-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"

-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?

-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.

-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.

-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).

-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."

-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.

-"it isn't?"

-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"

-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.

-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.

-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.

-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.

-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.

-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.

-"no, just of you."

-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.

-"oh."

-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.

-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.

-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.

-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.

-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.

-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"

-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

.

.

.

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

[nightbunnyusagi]

Autism and tactlessness

I don't know if this is part of the general autistic experience or is more specific to people who grew undiagnosed — I can only speak for myself — but something that really bothers me and makes social situations far more exhaustive than I think they could be, is policing everything I say.

I was diagnosed with ASD after adulthood, but I didn't need a paper to see, throughout my whole life, that I struggled and suffer the effects from it. And one thing is that I am aware, as my loved ones like to point out, that I am "tactless" a lot of the times, which can mean I don't realize when I'm being rude, annoying or inconvenient, specially when I can't understand why that'd be.

Because of that, I was often corrected while growing up. Things that I said that were plainly honest, spontaneous or curious were pointed out as bad, usually without a good explanation on why it was bad, just that it was. After that, I'd usually be punished in a way or another, being not getting an explanation, receiving silent treatment and being ignored, having people mad at me, shouting at me, blaming me for a myriad of things or accusing me of things, laughing at me. All that came off as a punishment for being and talking the way I was.

Years ahead, now that I am an adult, I realized I learned something. Instead of learning why saying certain things is bad, I learned to be scared of what I say. I feel tense and constantly try to analyze what I'm gonna say even when that is meaningless because I can't find what could be bad about it in my memories. If I get too relaxed and let the words slip away, I get anxious I might've offended someone. I'm constantly scared to be offensive and be punished again.

That also means I am always scared of being abandoned by the people I love, and my first assumption will always be that I did something offensive without realizing. I know I'm an overall grumpy person, but I tend to be scared of people when they're mad, I tend to get anxious that they'll never want to talk to me again and I'll be alone.

I am exhausted of fights that I don't understand why even happen. Of not understanding why people get mad at me. Of feeling rejected by people I trusted and loved. Of overanalyzing everything I say and still being scared of going through all that again.

Disclaimer: I am one autistic person, late diagnosed and mid-low support needs, talking about my experiences and opinions that I believe are related to autism. I do not speak for other autistic people, only for myself.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Remember the Pokémon trainer ask with having pokepastas in their team? Could I maybe request something angsty?~ basically can I get headcanons of Arven and Kieran’s reaction to finding out Trainer got in a accident and was suffering from VERY lethal injuries and in panic missingno..basically messed them up into a pokepasta trainer,kinda corpse looking and now in never ending pain because of the raw wounds that never fully Heal but ofc take medication to numb the pain down and look out now for they’re friends so they don’t suffer the same fate? :))

Oh btw have a nice day or night!!! Remember to drink water!

Arven

From the moment he, Penny, and Nemona discovered your team enjoying a picnic...he always wondered how you got something like Missingno on your side.

But since it nearly corrupted his damn pokedex trying to just get information on it AND you were reluctant to share your past, he figured you'd just say "don't ask questions you don't want answers to" and end the convo right there.

He definitely wouldn't let Mabosstiff near it.

Last time he went near a Pokémon nobody should've known about...he almost lost his companion.

From time to time, he catches glimpses of your wounds (not during picnics ofc), bandages, and the medication Nurse Miriam prescribed to you, and suggests you save some of the herbs for yourself.

And they do help with your pain management when incorporated into tea or sandwiches (especially the salty herba mystica, which relieves your aches for a little while).

They're not miracle cures, but it's something.

Eventually, there comes a point where you know Arven wants to understand how you acquired Missingno, why you have so many ghastly Pokémon by your side, and why you were determined to defend him and the others down in Area Zero.

So you sit down and explain how you found it by accident in Kanto, caught it, and realized it was simply a lonely creature who wanted a trainer it could love and protect. Like any other Pokémon.

Yet you didn't realize the extreme lengths it would go to achieve that goal....until you nearly suffered a lethal wild Pokémon attack (it was in the dead of night, and you were ambushed while chasing after what you thought was a shiny).

You were bleeding out, bones broken and gaping wounds all over your body, and unconsciously begged for help-

And Missingno somehow heeded your call, escaping its pokeball and reviving you.

But in doing so, you were brought back as a zombie..one who still remembers the pain of that night and often cursed the glitch for not letting you die.

In time though you've made peace with it, knowing you were stuck this way now and it wouldn't let you go...

To the point where it erased its own pokeball from existence and became a constant presence around you, invisible aside from a few occasional glitch particles.

Yet you knew Missingno didn't mean any ill intent--all it wanted to do was save you.

Now you vowed to save others so they didn't suffer the same fate as you, whether that be haunted Pokémon left abandoned in some town or atop a mountain or your human friends in Area Zero.

Your pains aren't as severe now thanks to the meds, and you're grateful for Arven introducing you to herba mystica.

You were afraid he was gonna be freaked out by your story (or not believe you), but..while he finds it horrific and sad at first, he understands you better and is simply glad you're here now.

He's also happy to help his buddy manage their pain better, even if the remedies are only temporary.

Kieran

You had to bandage and conceal a great deal of your wounds so nobody at BB Academy got concerned, with DISABLED giving you a consistent best Heal Pulse to ensure your chronic pain wasn't debilitating).

Even so, Kieran assumes you got better over the past year and is desperate to battle you and win Missingno..something he vowed to acquire after realizing he'll never get Ogerpon.

You try explaining that it's literally impossible for you to surrender it, and it's too dangerous to bring it into a battle anyway, but he thinks you're just lying to him again and bragging.

In the back of his mind, though...he kept wondering why you had so many injuries..

Ofc..he's too focused on being stronger than you to ask you.

But after seeing Missingno come out (in its Fossil Aerodactyl form) and literally glitch Terapagos' beam out of existence and use Cut on multiple falling rocks---he was amazed.

You finally invite him to your dorm to talk after the mochi mayhem events, knowing he deserved some answers.

He sees the pain meds littered all over your countertop, and you finally reveal to him why you need those, why you look the way you do, and why you keep Missingno around:

Basically, after catching and befriending it, you got attacked by some wild Pokémon, and they would've left you for dead had it not intervened.

You made it feel loved, cherished, never using it as a weapon or an infinite item dispenser...and it couldn't watch you bleed to death.

So it saved your life, but it came with a great cost: neverending physical pain with your wounds never fully healing.

You used to curse Missingno for not letting you go, trying to release it several times to no avail, and just being miserable in general.

Yet once you realized it attracted more misunderstood, tortured, and damaged Pokémon to your side..you came to forgive it, knowing it was just like them despite its uncanny appearance: a creature who just wanted to protect its trainer.

Now you take medication (and a few leaves of herba mystica) to numb the pain down, so it didn't hurt as much as it did before.

You wouldn't want anybody to have a brush with death like you did. Not even your worst enemy.

That's why you went so far to protect your friends in Area Zero, especially Kieran.

After hearing your story, he felt so torn up and guilty--and convinced he was being "overdramatic".

You were still suffering all along, for years..and he had no idea, only thinking about himself and his selfish ways and how his pain couldn't possibly compare to-

But you stop your friend from spiraling, holding him and letting him cry out all of his renewed guilt, telling him that his own suffering was valid, too.

He was starting to look like a corpse with the dark circles and paler complexion....and it scared you.

Seems like he took "I wanna be like you" a bit too literally.

But you're glad Missingno saved you--otherwise you never would've gotten the chance to meet him and help him become more confident in himself (ofc you wish things were different before and didn't require you shattering his confidence first).

Since that conversation, Kieran starts taking better care of himself and makes a promise to protect you.

Not from physical threats per se as you're basically immortal, but from rude stares and whispers of how "creepy" you are.

He tends to hug you a lot and lend you his jacket for warmth if you ever get cold in class or in the polar biome.

It does help with the chills you get so often, and makes you feel grateful that you two were still friends despite everything.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Tableskills: Creating Dread

I've often had a lot of problems telling scary stories at my table, whether it be in d&d or other horror focused games. I personally don't get scared easily, especially around "traditionally horrifying" things so it's hard for me to recreate that experience in others. Likewise, you can't just port horror movie iconography into tabletop and expect it to evoke genuine fear: I've already spoken of being bored out of my mind during the zombie apocalypse, and my few trips into ravenloft have all been filled with similar levels of limp and derivative grimdark.

It took me a long time (and a lot of video essays about films I'd never watched) to realize that in terms of an experience fear is a lot like a joke, in that it requires multiple steps of setup and payoff. Dread is that setup, it's the rising tension in a scene that makes the revelation worth it, the slow and literal rising of a rollercoaster before the drop. It's way easier to inspire dread in your party than it is to scare them apropos of nothing, which has the added flexibility of letting you choose just the right time to deliver the frights.

TLDR: You start with one of the basic human fears (guide to that below) to emotionally prime your players and introduce it to your party in a initially non-threataning manor. Then you introduce a more severe version of it in a way that has stakes but is not overwhelmingly scary just yet. You wait until they're neck deep in this second scenario before throwing in some kind of twist that forces them to confront their discomfort head on.

More advice (and spoilers for The Magnus Archives) below the cut.

Before we go any farther it's vitally important that you learn your party's limits and triggers before a game begins. A lot of ttrpg content can be downright horrifying without even trying to be, so it's critical you know how everyone in your party is going to react to something before you go into it. Whether or not you're running an actual horror game or just wanting to add some tension to an otherwise heroic romp, you and your group need to be on the same page about this, and discuss safety systems from session 0 onwards.

The Fundamental Fears: It may seem a bit basic but one of the greatest tools to help me understand different aspects of horror was the taxonomy invented by Jonathan Sims of The Magnus Archives podcast. He breaks down fear into different thematic and emotional through lines, each given a snappy name and iconography that's so memorable that I often joke it's the queer-horror version of pokemon types or hogwarts houses. If we start with a basic understanding of WHY people find things scary we learn just what dials we need turn in order to build dread in our players.

Implementation: Each of these examples is like a colour we can paint a scene or encounter with, flavouring it just so to tickle a particular, primal part of our party's brains. You don't have to do much, just something along the lines of "the upcoming cave tunnel is getting a little too close for comfort" or "the all-too thin walkway creaks under your weight ", or "what you don't see is the movement at the edge of the room". Once the seed is planted your party's' minds will do most of the work: humans are social, pattern seeking creatures, and the hint of danger to one member of the group will lay the groundwork of fear in all the rest.

The trick here is not to over commit, which is the mistake most ttrpgs make with horror: actually showing the monster, putting the party into a dangerous situation, that’s the finisher, the  punchline of the joke. It’s also a release valve on all the pressure you’ve been hard at work building.

There’s nothing all that scary about fighting a level-appropriate number of skeletons, but forcing your party to creep through a series of dark, cobweb infested catacombs with the THREAT of being attacked by undead? That’s going to have them climbing the walls.

Let narration and bad dice rolls be your main tools here, driving home the discomfort, the risk, the looming threat.

Surprise: Now that you’ve got your party marinating in dread, what you want to do to really scare them is to throw a curve ball. Go back to that list and find another fear which either compliments or contrasts the original one you set up, and have it lurking juuuust out of reach ready to pop up at a moment of perfect tension like a jack in the box. The party is climbing down a slick interior of an underdark cavern, bottom nowhere in sight? They expect to to fall, but what they couldn't possibly expect is for a giant arm to reach out of the darkness and pull one of them down. Have the party figured out that there's a shapeshifter that's infiltrated the rebel meeting and is killing their allies? They suspect suspicion and lies but what they don't expect is for the rebel base to suddenly be on FIRE forcing them to run.

My expert advice is to lightly tease this second threat LONG before you introduce the initial scare. Your players will think you're a genius for doing what amounts to a little extra work, and curse themselves for not paying more attention.

Restraint: Less is more when it comes to scares, as if you do this trick too often your players are going to be inured to it. Try to do it maybe once an adventure, or dungeon level. Scares hit so much harder when the party isn't expecting them. If you're specifically playing in a "horror" game, it's a good idea to introduce a few false scares, or make multiple encounters part of the same bait and switch scare tactic: If we're going into the filthy gross sewer with mould and rot and rats and the like, you'll get more punch if the final challenge isn't corruption based, but is instead some new threat that we could have never prepared for.

Art

[cordeliawhohung]

i literally always interact with ur posts and i always try to initiate some sort of friendship but you dont !!!! idk

so, it's rather unfortunate that i feel like i have to explain myself even though i know i don't have to, but i'm going to anyway because this will eat me alive if i don't and i'm gonna set healthy boundaries here.

first, thank you for your continued support of my posts. interaction makes the site go round, and all that. but this comment feels really... transactional.

i feel like i do a really good job at interacting with people who comment and whatnot on my posts. i answer asks, i enjoy the silly ones and the serious ones, i try to be fun, be funny, be kind, be engaging, be myself, be whatever. and frankly, i don't think i understand what more you're wanting from me. i respond to a majority of comments on my posts! i sort of pride myself with how often i interact with people on here despite my busy life! if you're in my notifs often, there's probably already a decent chance i enjoy seeing you pop up, and enjoy responding to you, and enjoy engaging with you, and probably even consider you a friend if we speak often in comments, etc.

it's really hard to tell exactly what you're wanting me to do based off of this very vague ask, but if you're like, wanting to dm with me or something i'm sorry. i'm like the worst person ever when it comes to dms. i work 10 hour shifts. i have family to take care of, a mortgage to pay for etc etc. ask any of my moots, i literally never dm. i leave people on read quite often because i'm just so bad at it. i'm busy all the time and it gets overwhelming. so if you've got some sort of fomo going on that i'm part of something more than just my silly posts or anything, i promise you there's nothing you're missing out on.

which is why i stick to comments. replying to stuff. mainly engaging on posts. answering asks. etc. i'm literally giving everyone all the energy i have to give already. on top of writing!!!!

and this is going to sound really cunty, but also realize that just because you interact with someone, that doesn't mean they owe you anything. and this doesn't just go for me, but literally everyone on this site. they don't owe you a reply, or a thank you, or a comment, or anything. and that sucks but that's literally how life works. not everything is a series of transactions. everyone has their reasons that dictate why they may or may not respond or initiate what you want from them. but that's what this asks feels like. wanting something from me. wanting more than what i've been giving. wanting something i mentally, and emotionally can't provide given my circumstances.

i literally love everyone who positively interacts with me, so this feels like a punch to the gut, knowing someone thinks that i'm not doing enough by not catering to some very vague and impossible to know need. i'm not a mind reader!

sorry if this sounded short, but i'm wanting to make my boundaries very clear here. i am so so grateful for everyone who interacts with my stuff, and i show my love by responding as best as i can. most of my friendships on this site are formed by interactions that way. asking anything more from me is something i simply cannot give you.

also, anon asks will be turned off AGAIN after i post this because just on the off chance this is not received well, i'm not opening myself up to anon hate lmao.

[mj-ackerman]

Translation of Tatsuya Endo's Interview with Katsumaru: (You can read the original here X)

Katsumaru: My wife and child are both big fans of "Spy x Family", so they were both excited for me to be able to meet you today. Why did you choose the theme "Spy" in the first place?

Endo: I didn't have any particular desire to draw a spy story or something like that, but I had always liked military kinds of things and was interested in war related things, so when I combined those aspects with the theme of "lies", it naturally ended up as a spy story. However, I haven't seen many spy movies, and for movies like "007", I've only seen one or two of them.

Katsumaru: What? Really? The information about spies that appears in the story, even for someone like me who's been an avid follower of the genre, gives an impression that it's very well thought out. How on earth did you acquire such knowledge?

Endo: Most of it is from books. And then some of it is from documentary films and the likes. There was an old movie called "Shiri" (This is a 1999 Korean film), it's about the battle between North Korean Special Operation Forces and South Korean Intelligence Agency. I liked that very much.

Katsumaru: The setting, in which the husband, Loid, is a spy and the wife, Yor, is an assassin, reminded me of the movie "Mr & Mrs Smith"

Endo: When the series was just starting, I see that title being mentioned a lot in the comments, but to be honest I've never seen it before....(Laughs). I didn't have much time to prepare for the serialization, and since it's a comedy, I thought I didn't have to be that particular about the settings as I drew it. I incorporated the knowledge I had gained from books, but since it's still a manga, I kept the "No way, that's impossible" aspects to it.

Katsumaru: I think it has a really good balance between realistic depiction and entertainment. Spies are part of everyday life, and some of them even established a "fake family" as in "SPY X FAMILY". In reality, there are cases where married couples had been living together without realizing that their husbands are spies.

Endo: That balance is what I pay the most attention to. I guess you can say it's a process of determining the "minimum level of reality" in each scene.

Katsumaru: How concerned are you about the difference between "reality and manga", Endo-sensei?

Endo: This one is difficult. It's a case by case basis, but in manga, there are many parts where I can just go "let's fake the reality at this part for the time being". When you're working alone, you don't have time to do research about this or that fact. However, in anime, you have to create much more detailed settings, so there isn't much room to put on tricks. When the anime team would ask me "What would happen in this part?" I would often reply with "I'm sorry but I haven't thought about it yet...." (Laughs).

Katsumaru: Have you not strictly defined the scene or time period the story is set in yet?

Endo: I had the image of the period setting somewhere between the 1960s and 1970s. I'm trying to explore what I can do with the technologies in this era thinking "This technology might be possible". I also have softened the reality of things, such as the political form. The cold war between the East and West is also part of the motif, but if you just tell the readers that "it's a conflict of ideologies" , it won't make sense to them. So, I put it into a form that is easy to understand as a manga, there are also some parts that I, myself don't know about after all. Similarly, in the real world, for example, spies probably have very few horizontal connections, right? Like for security reasons. However, as a manga, in order to develop the story, it was necessary for me to depict conversations between spies. All the more that this is a comedy story, so it wouldn't work without conversation. It's difficult to find the right flavor between the two.

Katsumaru: It's pretty unique that you came up with the name "Dalc" which is similar to the name of the currency "Mark" (It's Deutsche Mark which is no longer in use since 2002) used in Germany.

Endo: It's actually a combination of "Mark" and "Dollar". I often use names of places and buildings that actually exist in real life. However, I have a pretty bad memory, so I often ask myself later "Where did I get the name of this place again?" (Laughs)

Katsumaru: Is there any expert historical research or supervision of intelligence agencies involved in this?

Endo: I basically think about all the detailed settings all by myself.

Katsumaru: Since the real-life aspects are well-constructed, I thought an expert in international politics was involved in supervising this.

Endo: There are also some readers who read too deep into the historical situation, but I didn't actually put much thought into the details in writing the story. This is just a fictional country called "Westalis and Ostania" after all.

Katsumaru: In "Spy x Family", there are some Russian-speaking names such as "Anya" and "Yuri" that appears, but spies in that country uses more analog method. For example, "flash contact", in which documents are handed over to another person as they pass each other, or a "drop dead", in which documents are hidden in an agreed-upon location and later picked up by a colleague. There is also a method for communication. Although this method is considered extremely inefficient, it is sometimes considered to be highly secure because it prevents interception of communications.

Endo: So there's still that kind of analogs even now huh? Now that technology has developed and everything is digitalized, I certainly think it's much safer now. In other countries, there are organization such as M16 (United Kingdom Secret Intelligence Service) and CIA (US Central Intelligence Agency), Japan also has organizations with such characteristics.

Katsumaru: The "Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Public Security Bureau (Public Safety)", where I worked, is the counterintelligence arm of Japan. In "VIVANT" (It's a 2023 Japanese Drama), which I supervised, Hiroshi Abe and Ryo Ryusei are playing roles with these type of characters. We have obtained as collaborators people who have a lot of information and people who are in position to meet various people such as reporter.

The only problem was that we didn't have enough people. The CIA has a large number of subordinates under it's station chief, and a large budget. When I was temporary transfered to a Japanese embassy overseas, I was alone, my budget was limited, and I was also reponsible for issuing passports, so there is no doubt that working at an intelligence agency overseas with better environment had allowed me to concentrate more on my mission.

Endo: Do you hire locals overseas?

Katsumaru: There are times when we ask locals to work with us by paying them a reward. Or, we can ask them to connect us with people who has information. The Public Safety is very good at finding and training people who can bring good quality information and can do good work.

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

⋆୨♡୧⋆l-l-love🤢⋆୨♡୧⋆

as y/n walked to the hybe cafe, she immediately spotted riki, a head above the rest. so tall she could point him out in a crowd anywhere. she took a deep breath and took a moment to compose herself before eventually walking over to him. she tapped him on his shoulder as he was facing away from her. "oh! hey!" there it is that smile. to say she loved his smile would be an understatement. she thought it was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen and she nearly felt as if she was going to die at the sight of it. she couldn't help but smile back at him. "hey! how are you?" what he wanted to say was "so much better now that i'm with you", but what came out instead was "good. yeah, i'm good, what about you?" his eyebrow raised, it was single handedly the cutest thing y/n had ever seen. "i'm pretty good. doing a lot of schedules for debut, you know, usual stuff" could she be anymore awkward? clearly yes. first "thanks you too" and now "usual stuff" she felt like she wanted to disappear right then and there, but riki absolutely loved it. this whole time he thought she was so cool and calm, but really she's cute and awkward, which he secretly liked more than if she would have been chill. he finds himself staring at her for a moment before quickly catching himself "oh um- did you want food? I didn't get any cause i wasn't sure if you'd want anything." she smiled at his thoughtfulness and said "no thanks, i'm not super hungry right now. thank you though." he thought back to their conversation yesterday, the whole reason why they're here now. "so, you wanted some tips about mcing?" he asked. "oh! yeah. im kind of nervous, i have no idea what i'm doing and you've ben an mc before, so i was hoping you could give me some advice?" she was hoping this didn't come off as pathetic or anything. i mean, who needs advice on how to talk into a mic? y/n apparently. "well," he starts "for me, i find its best to interact with the fans while waiting for our speaking parts. it calms my nerves before speaking because i'm talking to people that support me. often times it's mostly your own fans watching you in person. that’s at least what sunghoon told me. and if you're worried about messing up lines or something, I'll be there to cover for you, reading from a prompter is hard, so if you mess up its okay. don't worry too much about it." she nodded along to his words, taking mental notes on his advice. "thank you, i really appreciate it. i don't know why im so nervous. its just talking into a mic to a camera." she sighs. "I mean, I understand. it's nerve wracking when it's your first time. I felt like that too when I mc'ed for MAMA one year. it can be scary talking in front of a bunch of people and trying not to mess up. that's why you have a co-host, me! if you do mess up, I can cover you so it doesn't look too much like an accident." her heart fluttered at that. over something so small? she knew it was corny, but she couldn't help it. she felt so strongly for him. she always thought that if she actually talked to him, this whole little crush would go away. but to her surprise, it only got stronger. "you know, since we're going to be working together, we should get each others numbers." her heart stopped, and so did his. hers in shock, and his in fear. what if she said no? what if she thought he was weird? did he really just ask her for her number? there's no way. she froze for a moment, but realized she really should probably respond to him "yeah! yeah of course!" riki was never more relieved in his life. he handed her his phone "here, put your number in." she took it from him and put in her number, texting herself. "there. i can send you a picture for my contact photo later" his heart raced, he had just gotten his crushes number, and she's going to send him a picture of herself later. could his life get any better then this? "okay, sure, yeah, that sounds good" he stammers. is he really flustered right now? oh my god she thought. as the two talked and laughed together, they figured out they're more similar then they thought they were.

the pair quickly growing closer in just mere hours, both feeing significantly strong for each other than when they first said hello earlier. as the time drew later, the two decided to end their night, quickly realizing the ghost town that the hype cafe had become. "oh- well, its late, and my members are blowing up my phone asking where I am" she laughed as she scrolled through the countless messages left by yunjin and hanni. 'yeah, I should probably go too. I told jay I'd help make dinner tonight" he sighed, wishing he didn't promise jay anything and he could hang out with y/n for longer. she laughed lightly "ill let you go then. text me though, okay?" what had come over her? did she really just say that? (y/ns version of flirting was a bit different then others, that being because she didn't know how to flirt) riki nodded and smiled "yeah, I'll text you. see you later!" he waved to her and started to walk away. she waved back and watched him go. she sat back down and sighed once he was out of her sight. she was so fucked. she was completely and utterly melted by him, and they had only just official met yesterday. maybe there was something wrong with her. but frankly, she didn't care. maybe she was being delusional like usual, but she was pretty sure she could see something there with riki.

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luckys note!: guys i’m so good at writing😎😎

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv @lukesboo @anormieee @rockyhedgehog @thomawifey @lovrqis @akashisthighs @just-a-girl-with-hyper-fixations

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

[honeygrahambitch]

"One day you will have to tell me how your adversity towards lamb meat has commenced." Hannibal said as he watched Will washing the dishes. He grabbed a towel to dry them.

"We had this lamb." The response came unexpectedly. Hannibal believed Will would just make a snarky remark and change the subject, just like he always did when it came to things that were actually deeply rooted. "When I was a kid, I mean. I named him Popcorn."

Hannibal realized the story wouldn't have a happy ending. "Because of what he looked like or did he actually have a preference for popcorn?"

"Both." Will said and even though Hannibal could not see his expression, he could tell there was a bittersweet smile on his lips. "His mother died soon after he was born. And we became very attached to each other. My mom was very much alive but it's not like it made a difference."

Hannibal felt a note of resentment in Will's tone.

"So you and Popcorn were both lonely. You had that in common."

"Indeed. I learnt to sneak him into my bedroom. He even learnt to be quiet when we were inside. He was quite smart now that I think about it." Will took a break for a few seconds and Hannibal noticed the way his fingers tightened their grip on the dish he was holding, his knuckles turning white. "My dad would often get drunk. I learned that hiding into the barn through the sheep was my only escape."

Hannibal frowned at the image of a young Will have to run away from a drunk violent father. He put down the dish he was drying and opened one of the kitchen cabinets. He grabbed a whiskey bottle and two glasses.

"Your mother was distant and your dad was violent."

"My relationship with my dad improved after my mother left one day. He was more sober. Anyway, doctor, this is not about my relationship with my parents, as much as you would love to hear that." Will said and imagined the way Hannibal was smiling, guilty in charge behind him.

"I love to listen to everything you say, Will. I am not only hearing." Hannibal said. "And then?"

"And then what? Ah, right." Will said and cleared his throat. "Popcorn grew at some point so sneaking him indoors became impossible. His horns were showing and he learnt that he could try them on me. Got a lot of bruises cause I never saw him coming."

"Sounds like you ruined a lot of trousers."

"Oh, trust me, I did. I got into a lot of trouble because of that." Will replied and remembered how many times he had tried to make up excuses about why his pants were so messed up. They were poor, but for as kid it didn't make sense why his parents would get so angry.

"One day I came from school and I wanted to go see Popcorn, just like I usually did. It was raining so my dad insisted that I get inside and see Popcorn after dinner."

Hannibal listened in silence as he felt like the story was approaching its end. "We had dinner and then I sneaked out to go look for Popcorn. And I couldn't find him anywhere. So I asked my dad."

"No." Hannibal heard himself whisper.

Will let out a deep sigh.

"He wasn't sober. He laughed and told me that Popcorn was in my stomach by now."

"Oh, dearest."

"So to answer your question, that is why I don't eat lamb. And to answer your unasked question, yes, I would like a glass of whiskey."

When Hannibal said nothing, Will turned to face him. He hadn't moved an inch since Will had finished his story.

"Are you okay?"

"I imagined this would be the way it would end." Hannibal said. "I am sorry you had to go through all of that. Can I ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you decide to tell me now about it? You always brush it off."

"I just felt like sharing it. And I knew you wouldn't find it stupid."

"Darling, of course not." Hannibal said as he welcomed Will into his arms. "And it also answers my other curiosity."

"Which is that?" Will said as he buried himself into Hannibal's shoulder.

"I now understand why you don't eat popcorn either."

"Did you make a list of everything I don't eat?"

"Mentally, yes. I pay lots of attention to your preferences."

"I am not even surprised."