#you know. the thing that you need to talk to support about :)

[cloudcountry]

Hello could I request maybe Iida, Vil, and Malleus with a S/o that can hold a cup on their chest? Like they have such large chest that they can hold stuff with it. If it’s to weird I apologize.

SUMMARY: their s/o has a large chest

COMMENTS: this is kind of a different fic for me i dont usually write stuff like this SDJJSDSJ i hope i did your prompt justice!!

literally begging nobody to sexualize this please ive never written for this stuff before so idk how people react but i will Cry

If you ever need to go bra shopping, trust that Vil will be right by your side making sure you get the best bras for your size. He’ll listen to what you want and even ask attendants for you if you’re too embarrassed.

He picks out various styles for you to try, each one giving you the support you need. His advice is always helpful and to the point—he knows what colors and styles look best but insists that comfort is most important for his love.

If anyone makes any weird comment towards you they will be on the receiving end of Vil’s absolutely withering glare. He trusts they won’t try anything ever again, lest he have to soundly berate them into the ground.

Idia is nervous. I mean he’s nervous around everyone, sure, but it takes a lot to coax what he wants out of him even after you two have been dating for a while. He doesn’t want you to change your mind or think he’s weird, so he keeps his desires to himself, but...

He wants to nap with you and rest his head on your chest. That’s it. He thinks you look so cozy and he confesses all of this is rushed murmurs that you quite honestly barely catch, but it’s enough to get the gist.

It’s the best sleep of his life. He knocks out almost immediately as you run your fingers through his hair, watching over him like a guardian angel. Ever since that night, he'll “subtly” try to snuggle up to you again like a scared cat, ready to jump away at any moment.

Malleus often finds himself curious, asking about your back pain and if he can do anything to help. You may have it covered, and it’s that's the case he’s delighted, but if you don’t he gets serious very quickly.

That’s his love we’re talking about, and his love should not endure any pain, much less alone! And so he offers to make it go away with his magic. It would be in your best interest to ask what he intends to do...you may not like it.

At the end of day he’s very protective of you too (as always.) He’s heard about things people said to you back in your world that made you uncomfortable, so he keeps an eye out for those types. He’ll strike them down, don’t worry. <3

[pippin-katz]

Why Did Charles Keep Asking About Edwin's Conversation With The Cat King?

I was reading a fic where Edwin agrees to the Cat King's initial offer, but because time passes differently in whatever room that is, he's gone for six weeks even though it was a couple hours for him, and it got me thinking. I worked out why Charles was so pushy about that conversation.

Charles and Edwin have been together for 30 years. The way they act gives me the feeling that they spent very little time apart, and wherever one went, the other went too. In the fic, Edwin's inner monologue refers to it as "shared memories"; they experience everything together.

But now, there's this.

Edwin disappeared for hours on Charles' side of things. He had this conversation with a magical being, a stranger that sets off warning bells in Charles' head. He came back with a magical bracelet that trapped him in Port Townsend, that he couldn't remove, and something about his behavior was off.

Charles is not stupid or oblivious. He reads Edwin like a book, albeit with blurry text. He knows something is not quite right, but doesn't know what. And he knows it's because of whatever happened in the few hours that he wasn't with him.

For what is likely the first time in 30 years, Edwin has experienced/done something significant without him. Charles is in the dark; he wasn't there to see or hear what happened for himself. All he has to go on is what Edwin tells him, and he gets the immediate feeling that he's not saying everything.

When talking about it in front of Crystal, he just asks if he said anything else, but once they're alone in their office, he's direct.

Charles is absolutely (and correctly) sure that Edwin hasn't told him the real/full truth about his meeting with the Cat King, and tells him as much.

The way he asks feels... calm? Crystal's not there, they're alone, they're in their safe space, why wouldn't Edwin tell him? He probably thinks he would, but obviously, he doesn't. He lets a detail slip that confuses and concerns him even more; the Cat King whispering in his ear. That confirms very close proximity between them, something that's potentially dangerous and something he knows Edwin doesn't particularly like, and Charles is just... lost, uncomfortable, and frustrated.

Can you imagine how maddening that must have been? To not know what really happened? To only have vague descriptions of the events from his friend? To see and know that something is wrong with him, but being unable to truly help because he's clueless as to what the actual problem is?

It's highly likely that this is the first time Charles has ever encountered this.

As Edwin says, he's "fixated" on this. It's like there's a page missing in his copy of the script of events. He's never had to worry about it before; he was always there with him. Edwin says it's not a big deal, but Charles can't make that call himself. It's not that he doesn't trust Edwin; it's his protectiveness of him. He wants to see and assess the situation for himself. He wants to be positive there's no danger, that it meets his standards. He needs to know everything about where Edwin is, what he's doing, who he's with, at all times, so he can be ready to protect him.

As Jayden put it, Charles has given himself the mantle of Edwin's guardian. Edwin dedicates all his time and energy into helping others, to the point of neglecting himself. In response, Charles dedicates himself to Edwin. If he won't take care of himself, if no one else is going to help him, Charles will. As he says in Hell when he's rescuing Edwin, "Someone's gotta do it."

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[mrsfancyferrari]

Our Love Is Strong

Summary: You weren't going to let your eating disorder destroy your relationship until it did.

Song: Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith

Author’s note: From someone probably has an eating disorder but disguises it being a picky eater, I really wanted to write this. Happy ending. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.6k

You and Lando Norris had just gotten into a serious relationship, and you couldn't be happier. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and you had both been looking forward to building a future together.

However, there was one thing that you had been hiding from Lando - your biggest secret, your eating disorder.

As an F1 driver yourself, maintaining a slim figure had always been a priority. You had become accustomed to following a strict diet, limiting your food intake to the bare minimum.

Your career as a racing driver had ensured that your body was in peak physical condition, and a diet was not a major concern since you hardly ate anything in general.

However, Lando was growing increasingly concerned by your lack of appetite. He noticed that you were frequently skipping meals, and he couldn't help but notice the weight of your body diminishing.

“Are you not going to go eat more?” Lando asked you, not looking up from his phone.

“I’m full,” You answered as usual, “I’m going to be at the gym if you need me,”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lando questioned you, concerned of your health.

“Yeah everything is okay Lando,” You said with a small smile, walking towards the door.

“Why do you insist that everything is fine when I can clearly see that you are troubled? You know I'm here to listen and understand what's really going on.”

You immediately stopped in your tracks, not turning around to face him.

“Don't shut me out please - let me in so I can help. I know you've been through a lot, but keeping your feelings bottled up isn't healthy. Please, talk to me. I want to support you, but I can't do that if you won't be honest with me.”

You kept quiet, afraid that your voice would betray you if you spoke. You didn’t want that. You could hide your secret. You hid it from your family and friends so why shouldn’t you hide it from your boyfriend?

“I'm on your side, Y/N. All I ask is that you trust me enough to open up. Together, we can work through whatever is weighing on your mind.” Lando begged, standing up from the chair and slowly walking to you.

“I’ll be in the gym if you need me,” You repeated quietly before rushing out of the room, leaving Lando in a distressed state.

You’ve been spending more time at the gym lately and less time with Lando. It's a conscious decision you made to avoid him as much as possible, as you don't want to discuss the topic of your eating habits.

Lando has always been concerned about your diet and weight, and it's become a point of contention between us. You appreciated his concern, but you feel that it's your own personal matter, and you don't want to be constantly scrutinized or lectured about it.

By spending less time with him, you were able to focus on your own fitness goals and personal growth without the added pressure.

“Congratulations Y/N! Your weight has gone to 140.0 pounds,” Your physician said, looking at the weight scale that you stood on. “Is your new diet doing good for you?”

“Umm yeah it does help,” You lied, standing off the scale after they recorded your weight.

Lies. You hardly ate the new diet. You wanted to get to the weight you were to told to get to in the quickest time so you could help your team out more that you would not be weighing down the car.

“Great, now tell me do you get any dizzy spells recently?” The physician asked, not looking up from their board.

Yes, almost everyday.

“No, I don’t get any dizzy spells,” You lied again.

“Do you ever feel cold or tired?” The physician continued.

“Nope, I feel fine,” You answered, wanting the questions to stop.

The guilt was creeping up on you slowly.

The physician smiled warmly as they reviewed the test results. "I'm pleased to say that everything looks perfectly normal," they announced, their voice exuding a reassuring tone.

"However, I would recommend making a few adjustments to your diet. Let's go over a plan that will help you feel your absolute best."

The physician proceeded to outline a balanced, nutritious regimen, tailored specifically to address any minor concerns and ensure your continued good health.

You were happy that they didn’t notice your pale skin, clammy hands and the slight ribs showing through your skin.

“Make sure to take a lot of water and stick to this new diet and I’m sure you’ll be lighter in no time,” The physician instructed.

You nodded while remembering nothing she says. You wouldn’t be needing it anyways, you have your way of losing weight.

When you left the doctor's office, you saw Carlos waiting for his own appointment. You approached him and said, "Carlos, fancy seeing you here. How are you doing?"

Carlos looked up and replied, "Oh, hey there! I'm doing alright, just waiting for my turn to see the doctor. I've been having some issues with my back lately, and I figured it was time to get it checked out. How about you, how did your appointment go?"

“It went great! Just a usual checkup,” You said, lying through your teeth.

You started to feel lightheaded, and a sense of unease crept up your spine. As you stood there, the room seemed to sway slightly, and you couldn't quite focus your eyes.

This was no ordinary feeling – something was clearly amiss. Recognising the signs of potential dizziness or even a more serious medical issue, you knew you needed to act quickly.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself and began to assess the situation more closely. Was this a temporary bout of lightheadedness, or could it be a sign of a more underlying condition? Your mind raced as you considered the various possibilities, each one more concerning than the last. However, you refused to panic.

"Whoa, I'm starting to feel a bit lightheaded," you muttered, placing a hand on your forehead. "I haven't felt this way in a while."

Carlos looked at you with concern. "Are you alright? Maybe you should sit down for a moment." Hr guided you to a nearby chair and helped you ease into it.

"I'm not sure what's causing it," you replied, taking a few deep breaths. "It just came on suddenly. Do you think I should get some water or something?"

“I think you should go back into the doctor’s office to get checked out,” Carlos stated, worriedness written all over his face.

“No, no, I just forgot to drink water today,” You said, trying to regain your vision.

Carlos immediately ran over to the water dispensers, taking a cup of water before walking back to you worriedly

Carlos hurried over to the water coolers, quickly grabbing a cup and filling it with water. As he rushed back to where you were standing, a look of concern was etched across his face.

“Here you go,” Carlos said, handing you the cup of water and you took it, grateful for his actions.

“Should I call Lando to come pick you up?”

“No!” You immediately yelled, the name of your boyfriend making you jump. He would force you to go back to the doctor’s office and remove you from the race.

“I mean no, I’m meeting up with him after this so there is no point calling him,” You lied with a strained smile on, sipping on the cold water.

Carlos gave you a long stare to find anything he could use to bring his best friend into it but he found nothing.

“Carlos Sainz,” The physician called in from their office and Carlos looked annoyed to have to leave you but he saw nothing wrong with you.

"See you later, Carlos," you said, bidding farewell to your colleague in a polite and courteous manner. You then rose from the cool, metallic seat and made your way out of the building, your departure marked by a sense of professionalism and civility.

Carlos gazed at you intently one final time, his eyes conveying a sense of determination, before turning and walking towards the entrance of his physician's medical practice. . . .

Lando looked from his phone to you who was asleep in your shared bed, worried about his girlfriend.

You have been getting paler for the past few days, and he couldn't help but feel concerned. He knew how important it was for you to rest and recover, but he couldn't help but worry about your well-being.

As he watched you sleep, Lando couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.

He was grateful that you were getting the rest you needed, and he vowed to do everything in his power to ensure that you felt better soon. . . .

The qualifying race was fast approaching, and the pressure was on for both of you. You, struggling with an eating disorder, knew that your performance was being watched closely.

Charles, noticed your increasing fatigue and tried to speak up, but you brushed it off and pushed yourself harder, determined to secure more points.

You were exhausted when you bumped into Charles. "Hey, Charles."

Charles greeted you with a smile, "Hey, my friend. I noticed you've been looking a little tired lately. Are you okay?"

You were obviously guarded with your emotions, "I'm fine, thanks. Just focusing on qualifying."

Charles gently replied, "I noticed that too. The drivers are noticing too. Are you pushing yourself too hard?"

You ignored Charles' concern for you, "No, I'm perfectly fine. I just need to give my best on the track."

"Are you really sure? I've noticed that you haven't been eating much lately. Something isn't right."

"That's none of your business, Charles. I'm fine, really. Just leave me alone and focus on qualifying."

Charles wasn't going to give up easily as he firmly said, "No, it's not right, and I'm not going to leave you alone. I care about you, and I can't sit by and watch you suffer in silence."

You were beyond angry now. Why couldn't he ignore you like everyone did?

"You have no right to judge me! You don't know anything about my personal struggles."

"It's not about judgment. It's about caring. I care about you, and I don't want you to suffer in silence. Please, talk to me." Charles begged.

You weakly said, "I...I don't know what to say."

Charles had an understanding look on his face. "It's okay. I'm here for you. Just remember that it's okay to ask for help."

You answered, voice breaking, "Okay, Charles. I'll think about it."

Charles was patting your back, "Take your time. I'm here for you, no matter what."

You looked up, "Thank you, Charles."

Your eating disorder started when you were young, unable to afford good food. Growing up in a low-income household, you often went without proper nutrition, which led to a distorted relationship with food.

As you pursued your racing dreams, the pressure to maintain a certain physique only exacerbated your struggles with food. The constant focus on qualifying and securing points overshadowed your well-being.

The constant pressure to maintain a certain physique in the racing industry, coupled with the intense focus on qualifying and securing points, created a toxic environment that overshadowed your well-being.

The distorted relationship with food, stemming from your childhood experiences of not having access to proper nutrition, became even more challenging to overcome as you pursued your racing dreams.

However, being in a relationship with Lando only added to the pressure you felt. Seeing how other drivers' partners looked perfect and put-together, you couldn't help but compare yourself and feel inadequate.

The desire to fit into that mold and meet those expectations only fueled your eating disorder further, as you believed that achieving that "perfect" appearance would make you more worthy of love and acceptance.

It was a vicious cycle that seemed impossible to break. . . .

It was a crisp morning as you made your way through the paddock, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to ignore the growing sense of fatigue that was creeping up on you, chalking it up to the nerves of the impending race.

As you approached the pit, the dizziness hit you like a wave, causing you to sway slightly on your feet. you brushed it off, determined to push through and focus on the task at hand.

The mechanics were bustling around, making final adjustments to your car, and you knew you needed to be at the top of your game.

Despite the warning signs, you climbed into the cockpit, your movements feeling sluggish and uncoordinated. The familiar rush of adrenaline was absent, replaced by a heavy, lethargic feeling. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog, but it only seemed to worsen.

As the race began, you struggled to maintain control of the car, your reactions slow and your concentration wavering. The other drivers pulled ahead, leaving you trailing behind, unable to muster the energy to keep up.

You knew you were putting yourself and the team at risk, but the thought of admitting defeat was too much to bear.

By the time the chequered flag fell, you had finished well outside the points, your body and mind utterly spent.

As you returned to your garage, you sat in your car, gasping for breath, feeling completely drained and unable to move. Your body ached with exhaustion, and even lifting your hand to wipe away the sweat on your brow seemed like an impossible task.

The physical and mental toll of the race had taken its toll on you, leaving you in a state of utter exhaustion. The disappointment and frustration washed over you, knowing that you had pushed yourself to the limit and still fell short of your expectations.

You stumbled out of the car, your legs wobbly and unsteady. The pit crew rushed to your side, concerned expressions on their faces as they tried to offer support.

Ignoring their pleas, you continued to wander aimlessly with your helmet on, the voices around you becoming a distant blur.

The weight of disappointment and frustration settled heavily on your shoulders, as you struggled to come to terms with falling short of your own expectations.

As you stumbled aimlessly with your helmet on, your vision began to blur and darken. Colors and shapes merged together, and you could barely make out the faces of the concerned pit crew.

Panic set in as you realized that your body had reached its breaking point, and your vision was giving out completely.

The world around you faded into darkness, leaving you disoriented and overwhelmed.

As you collapsed on the ground, the pit crew rushed to your side in a frenzy of concern and alarm. Their voices blended together, a cacophony of worried shouts and urgent instructions.

Some knelt down beside you, gently trying to rouse you, while others hurriedly called for medical assistance. The team's collective panic was palpable as they desperately tried to understand what had happened and how to help you.

As the medical team arrived, the pit crew stepped back, their faces etched with worry and fear.

They exchanged glances, silently conveying their shared concern for your well-being. The atmosphere in the garage had shifted from anticipation and excitement to a somber and tense mood, as everyone anxiously awaited news of your condition.

Another thing that the pit crew was worried about was your boyfriend, Lando Norris, and his reaction to your condition.

They knew that he would be furious and distraught when he found out what had happened. They understood the immense pressure he put on himself to perform well, and they feared that he would blame himself for your collapse.

They braced themselves for the storm that was about to come, hoping that they could provide him with the support he needed to navigate through his own emotions.

A staff member had come up to Lando and whispered something to him. "Lando, we need to talk. Something has happened to Y/N. She collapsed after the race and the medical team is attending to her right now."

Lando was shocked by the information. "What? Is she okay? What happened? Why wasn't I informed earlier?"

"We're still waiting for more updates, but it seems like her body gave out under the pressure. The doctors are doing everything they can. We didn't want to distract you during the race." The staff explained to him

"I can't believe this. I should have been there for her. She always puts so much on herself. I need to see her, now." Lando said, walking towards your paddock garage.

The staff member immediately followed him, not wanting him to make any rash decisions in public. "We're making arrangements for you to visit her at the hospital, Lando. Your focus right now should be on her well-being."

Lando paced back and forth, his anxiety growing with each passing second. He couldn't stand the thought of you being alone in the hospital, fighting for your well-being.

As he waited for the car to arrive, he replayed the events of the race in his head, desperately searching for any signs that he might have missed.

A car finally came to pick up Lando and take him to the hospital. As he got in, he couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt, wondering if there was anything he could have done differently during the race to prevent your collapse.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with worry and self-doubt.

He finally arrived at the hospital and approached the reception desk, his voice trembling as he asked the secretary for your name. The secretary looked up and said, "May I ask your relationship to the patient?"

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and replied, "I'm her boyfriend, Lando Norris. Please, I need to see her right away."

The secretary nodded sympathetically and quickly located your name on the computer.

"She's in room 305 on the third floor. Take the elevator to your left," she said, pointing in the direction.

Lando thanked her and hurriedly made his way towards the elevator, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope.

As Lando stepped into the elevator, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that he had finally found your room.

The journey up to the third floor felt like an eternity, each passing floor filled with anticipation and worry.

As Lando stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor, he couldn't help but feel a surge of relief and anticipation. Room 305 was just down the hallway, and he quickened his pace, eager to see you and reassure himself that you were okay.

The door to the room swung open, revealing a scene of medical equipment and monitors, but what caught Lando's attention was the sight of you lying in the hospital bed.

His eyes filled with tears as he approached you, gently taking your hand in his.

As Lando looked at you lying in the hospital bed, he noticed a tube attached to your mouth. The tube was connected to a ventilator, helping you breathe and providing the necessary oxygen to support your recovery.

The soft hum of the machine filled the room, a constant reminder of the critical role it played in keeping you stable. Lando's heart ached at the sight, knowing that you were relying on this lifeline for every breath.

It snaked its way from your mouth to the ventilator, securing your connection to the vital support system.

Lando couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and helplessness as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, synchronized with the rhythmic breaths the machine facilitated.

"I'm so sorry, I should have known," Lando whispers to himself, his voice filled with regret. He pulls up a chair beside the bed and holds your hand tightly.

Lando gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and whispered, "I promise I'll be here for you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together." . . . .

You regained consciousness shortly thereafter, but you were weak and disoriented. The room seemed unfamiliar, and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the bright lights. As you looked around, you saw Lando sitting beside you, his eyes filled with relief and concern.

He gently squeezed your hand and said, "You're awake. I've been so worried. How are you feeling?"

"How did I get here?" you slurred, your voice still groggy from the effects of the sedation.

Lando's face softened with a mixture of understanding and sadness as he explained, "You collapsed after the race, but don't worry, you're in the hospital now and the doctors are taking care of you."

As Lando spoke, fragments of memories began to flood back into your mind. You remembered the intense pressure building up inside you during the race, the struggle to breathe, and the overwhelming fatigue that consumed your body.

You looked at Lando, tears welling up in your eyes, and whispered, "I pushed myself too hard, didn't I?"

Lando's voice cracked with emotion as he replied, "You gave it everything you had. But now, the most important thing is that you focus on recovering. We'll figure out the rest together."

Before Lando could say anymore, a doctor came into the room looking serious. "I'm glad to see you awake," the doctor said, addressing you. "We need to talk about your condition and the next steps for your recovery."

The doctor's words hung in the air, and Lando's grip on your hand tightened as you braced yourself for the difficult conversation that was about to follow.

"From your tests, you have been heavily malnourished, causing you to collapse," the doctor stated, his voice filled with concern. "We will need to address your nutritional needs and closely monitor your progress. A team of specialists will be assigned to create a personalized recovery plan for you, focusing on restoring your strength and replenishing your body."

The doctor's words hit you like a punch to the gut. He explained that your collapse was a result of severe malnourishment, as your body had been deprived of essential nutrients for an extended period of time.

Tears streamed down your face as you realized the extent of the damage you had done to yourself, and Lando's eyes mirrored your pain as he vowed to support you in your recovery journey.

"Before I continue, is there any mental health condition that I should know about?" the doctor asked, his voice gentle and understanding. You paused for a moment, contemplating whether to disclose your struggles with your eating disorder.

You looked over at Lando, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I've been battling an eating disorder for years."

Lando's expression softened even further as he gently squeezed your hand, silently assuring you that he would be there for you every step of the way.

The doctor nodded, his eyes full of empathy. "Thank you for sharing that with me," he said.

"It's important that we address both your physical and mental health in your recovery plan. I will make sure to involve the appropriate specialists who can provide the necessary support and guidance. Remember, you don't have to face this alone."

The doctor then excused himself from the room, leaving you, Lando and the unbelievable tension that hung in the air.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally asked after the uncomfortable silence took over the room.

You took a deep breath, gathering the strength to respond. "I didn't tell you because I was ashamed," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I felt like a burden, like I was letting you down. I didn't want you to see me as weak or broken."

You tried to apologize, explaining that your eating disorder was deeply rooted in your past and that you had struggled to overcome it.

You explained how it had started as a coping mechanism to deal with the pressures of being an F1 driver, but it had gradually taken over your life.

Lando's eyes softened as he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek. "You're not weak or broken," he said firmly.

"You're strong for sharing this with me. And I want you to know that I love you no matter what. We're in this together, and I'll do whatever it takes to support you in your recovery."

The weight on your shoulders began to lift as you realized that you didn't have to face this battle alone. In that moment, you knew that with Lando by your side, there was hope for healing and a brighter future ahead.

He had witnessed firsthand the toll that an eating disorder could take on this relationship, and he was determined to help you overcome it. Lando had seen how it strained communication, eroded trust, and created a sense of helplessness.

But he also believed in your strength and resilience, and he was committed to supporting you every step of the way.

He knew it would be a journey filled with ups and downs, but he was ready to face it together, knowing that love and understanding could make all the difference in your recovery. . . .

Lando had been worried about your well-being for months, even when you had been diligently treating your eating disorder. There were times when you would try to skip meals, but Lando always seemed to know.

One afternoon, Lando came home from work, eager to share his latest Quadrant video. He saw you sitting at the dinner table, eating slowly. Your hands trembled slightly as you struggled to swallow each bite.

Lando approached you cautiously, his heart heavy with concern. "Hey, beautiful," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "How are you doing?"

You turned to look at him, your eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. "I'm okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But Lando, I think I'm still struggling."

Lando nodded, understanding the pain behind your words. "I know, my love," he said, his voice full of empathy. "But you're doing so well. You've made so much progress."

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and despair. "I know," you said, your voice breaking. "But sometimes, it's still so hard. Sometimes, I just...I forget."

Lando leaned closer, his voice filled with reassurance. "I understand," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "But I'm here for you, every step of the way. And I promise, I'll never give up."

You smiled, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thank you, Lando," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "You always know what to say."

Lando leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you know what else?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, curious as to what he had in mind. "What's that?" you replied, your heart pounding with excitement.

Lando leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching yours. "I promised to give you a kiss once you finish your food," he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

You blushed, your heart racing. "You're going to keep that promise?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I will," he promised, his voice filled with determination.

You turned back to your food, determined to finish what was on your plate. With each bite, you focused on the feeling of the fork in your hands, the rhythm of chewing, and the taste of the food on your tongue.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally finished your last bite. You looked up at Lando, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and anticipation.

"Can I have the kiss now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando smiled, his eyes filled with tenderness. "You have it, my love," he said, his voice filled with love. He leaned in, his lips softly landing on yours, a gentle kiss that spoke of his unwavering support and love.

As you pulled away, your eyes met his, filled with a mix of joy and gratitude. "Thank you," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

Lando leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice filled with warmth.

Suddenly, Lando grabbed you by the under your thighs and carried you up to his chest. You let out a gasp, but he quickly reassured you, "Don't worry, I've got you."

Your heart raced with surprise and excitement as you looked into his eyes. "What's gotten into you?" you asked, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Lando grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you," he replied, his voice filled with adoration. "And maybe have a little fun while we're at it."

"Wow, you really know how to surprise me," you said, a playful smile on your face. Lando chuckled, his arms securely holding you.

"I thought a little spontaneity would spice things up," he replied, his voice filled with excitement.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "Well, you certainly succeeded," you whispered, a mischievous tone in your voice.

Lando's eyes widened with anticipation as he listened to your whispered words. He leaned in closer, his voice filled with excitement. "Oh, I have plenty more surprises up my sleeve," he replied, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

As Lando leaned in closer, his hunger for your lips evident in his gaze, you felt a surge of electricity between you.

With a swift movement, he closed the remaining distance and hungrily captured your lips in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that burned with desire and anticipation.

Your lips were crushing together, devouring each other's with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The intensity of the kiss sent shivers down your spine, as if every nerve in your body was on fire.

It was a kiss that spoke volumes of the raw passion and desire that existed between you, leaving you both craving for more.

Lando pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours, intensifying the heat and desire between you. The rough texture of the wall against your back only heightened the sensations as his lips continued to explore yours, leaving you both lost in a world of passion and longing.

Your skin tingles with heat as Lando's lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake.

Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through your body, making you feel alive and consumed by the intensity of the moment.

The warmth spreads from your lips to the rest of your body, as if a fire has been ignited within you, melting away any inhibitions and leaving you completely lost in the passionate embrace.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Lando whispered in your ear, his voice filled with desire. The words sent a thrill through your body, fueling the fire of anticipation that had been building between you.

Without breaking the kiss, Lando effortlessly scooped you up into his arms, carrying you with ease as he navigated towards your shared bedroom. The anticipation and desire in the air were palpable as he laid you gently on the bed, his eyes locked with yours, promising a night of passion and fulfillment. . . .

Your love story may not have been an easy one, but it is a testament to the power of love and the resilience of the human spirit.

Your eating disorder may have threatened to destroy your relationship, but in the end, it served as a catalyst for growth and a deeper understanding between you two. . . .

[kyliekast]

I am politely begging for more of baby daddy!patrick zweig 🥲🙏🏾

i'll take any excuse to talk about it like literally any. please send asks about baby daddy patrick or baby daddy art or baby mama ex-wife tashi like i need it

you both went to the tennis academy and fucked around sophomore year, but you didn't ever take it seriously since you knew about patrick's reputation; however, unbeknownst to you, he stopped sleeping with other people completely while you two were fucking around. he had feelings. they never got acted on, though, because he doesn't think he can maintain a relationship, and before he might have had the chance to, you found out you were pregnant at the start of junior year.

you'd slept with a couple other guys, yes, but only patrick without protection, often, and using the ever-reliable pull out method. you're sure he's came inside at least a few times when you two were drunk as well. there was no question about whether he was the dad when your boy was born. they're twins, to the hair to the eyes to the smile.

your family is wealthy, so you decided to leave school to work for them. you expected patrick to not be in the picture and just send child support, as that seems like a very him way of going about it, but you were surprised when he wanted to take an active role. amazing for your son, obviously. awful for you.

he'll text you and ask things like, did you pack his bear onesie, and it'll be day three, so you know he's already gone through what you packed, and that yes, the onesie is there. he'll ask the same thing twice. he'll tack on questions about your life with questions about your boy. the articulate, wyd. they're thinly-veiled stabs at getting back into your space, and sometimes, they work.

during your son's first hanukkah (for those who don't know pat is jewish in the script), you go to drop him off for the week at pat's family estate, and he insists that you come in for food, a chat, coffee or tea or anything. and you do, because you've been craving his mom's challah since the last time you had it.

you sit together in the living room while patrick bottle feeds him, surprisingly competent. from his texts, you thought he was useless. you guess not. his hands are so big and your baby is so small he can hold him with one arm, a palm splayed across his head, big and swathing.

"he's hungry," pat says.

"he's always hungry. like you."

"you fucked up that challah and jam."

"i'm gonna kidnap your mom."

you both laugh, and it feel normal for a brief second, until you clear your throat.

"so, um. when you're on tour after the junior open coming up -- "

"i'm not going on tour. i'm gonna wait until he's old enough to travel."

you're surprised, and you can't hide it. tour's all patrick's talked about, all he's ever wanted. to win. the glory. the acclaim. your brow furrows. "oh. okay."

"i was just gonna work with art on his grandma's farm for now. when we're on break and stuff."

"you guys are, like. jack and ennis reincarnated."

he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

you laugh, "i can't imagine you doing manual labor."

he shrugs. "it's not manual labor, it's mainly taking care of the animals and stuff."

"the fact that art's gonna be around is weirdly reassuring."

"oh, he loves him."

"jesus christ," you groan jokingly, "i should've let art knock me up instead."

patrick stares blankly for a couple seconds, then forces this pitiful, gritted laugh, averting eye contact and looking back down at your baby. it's silent, you finishing your tea and patrick rocking him until he falls asleep. he speaks again, "wanna help me put him to bed?"

"yeah. of course."

you walk into the nursery. the last time you saw it -- there's no way you're not seeing what patrick zweig keeps your baby in over summers and breaks --, it was cute and decorated, but now, it's filled. it looks like patrick's spent every single day at toy and furniture and decor stores. there's a mural on the baby blue walls of an ocean. "oh, this is adorable."

"mhm." patrick sets him in the crib and gently swoops the downy patch of hair off his forehead. "i think he's knocked out."

"puppy tummy."

he looks at you, confused.

you explain, "like, when puppies drink a lot of milk, their bellies get full and they sleep a lot."

"that's cute." when he says it, he's still looking at you. that's cute. no, you're cute.

you're weak, too. so weak for that lopsided smile that's slowly creeping onto his face. the second he sees your blush, you know it's over. he's found an opening, and he's gonna take it.

you clamber into his bedroom, the house big enough for you to lack subtlety, and he pulls your sweater over your head and gropes your tits through your bra. "they're so much bigger now -- "

"fuck off -- " you're sitting on top of his lap, feverishly unbuttoning his shirt. knowing your son, he could wake up any second.

"i didn't say i don't like them normally," he grumbles, thumbing your hard nipples. "just making an observation." he flicks one.

you hiss, "fuck you -- "

"you're being a bitch."

"are you gonna take your dick out or not?"

"i want you to ask for it." patrick holds your wrists and grins, expectantly looking up at you. "say please."

"no." you don't bother with fighting his grip. he's much stronger than you, even if you two are equally stubborn.

"then we're not fucking."

"then we're not fucking, patrick."

the mental image you plant settles stronger than his empty threat, and his desperation wins out. he untucks his cock through his pants, and it's the same as you remember it: hairy, thick, and lengthy, a hot mouthful. you wonder if he tastes the same. musky, sweaty.

"do you have a condom?"

he doesn't hide his disappointment and sulks, "yeah. nightstand."

you huff then reach to the top drawer, pawing through a playboy, a playgirl (honestly, you didn't not expect that), and gum wrappers before you find a condom in the back corner. "do you want another one?"

"would it be so terrible?"

you don't answer that. he sounds too sad.

after finding the condom, you set it on top of the drawer and let patrick prep you, his hands crawling up your skirt to spread your legs. where you sit, his cock's sheathed under your panties and through your ass cheeks, while his pants press your pussy. you're undone from his fingers, moaning into his neck, teething on his ear. it's relieving to not have to explain what you like to get a good lay. patrick already knows.

"you're so wet," he grunts, and he's right -- you're so soaked his fingers' thrusts sound squishy. he rubs the textrous part inside of you, and you quiver, hands bracing on his shoulders as your cunt tightens. "mmm -- you could stay here all fucking hanukkah, let me feed you, buy you fucking presents, eat this pretty pussy every morning -- you know my family loves you, they'd love you being here -- they think i need to cuff you fucking yesterday --"

he skims his thumb's knuckle over your clit, and you're cumming, legs too splayed around his lap to close, so you're embarrassingly pried open, your cunt clenching. you whine in his ear, broken, high-pitched. "pat -- oh, fuck, pat -- " he keeps his fingers working until you start squirming, the grind of your ass on his cock becoming too much.

with your panties pulled to the side, his condomed cock slips in easily, and when it does, he moans louder than you, his hands hard on your ass, fingertips a bruising brute force. not on purpose. he just can't help himself when it's you. "jesus christ, missed your pussy so fucking much." you're pliant, so he starts thrusting right away. the force sends you leaning into his chest. his dick slaps against your ass every time he sinks in. "other guys don't fuck you like me, do they?"

you say nothing, but you whimper, burying your face into his neck.

you expect it when he pulls your hair. not hard, just enough to make you look at him. "do they?" he slows to hard, pumping thrusts, like he's milking your cunt.

"they don't," you moan, head lolling against his tug. "they don't -- god, just fuck me, pat, fuck me -- please -- "

he does, releasing your hair. after pounding you raw, he cums with a long, husky moan, eyes rolling, the back of his head against his headboard. the condom fills with cum, and you feel its barrier swelling with warmth every time your pussy twitches.

you pull off and lay beside him for a second, catching your breath. your panties are too wet to keep wearing, so you strip them off, kicking them somewhere in the room. when you open your eyes, you see patrick looking at you.

"i was thinking -- "

"you do that?"

"never mind," he laughs, pushing his sweaty curls off his forehead. "... you did end up saying please."

"alright, i'm leaving." his ego's practically pushing you out of the room. when you stand, pulling your sweater over your head, you realize you can't see your panties through the utter man of his room, messy and disorganized. they're dark, too. you groan.

"what?"

"nothing. i just -- look, i -- my family's doing, like -- a thing today, so i have to go." they're not. you just need out of there.

after you leave, patrick's scrambling for your panties. he took note of where they landed.

[twinstxrs]

thinking about kageyama’s “it’s the setter’s job to break the wall in front of the spiker” in reference to how kenma sponsoring hinata while he’s in brazil and onwards is effectively doing that on a financial level. once a setter always a setter.

[elysiansparadise]

Hello, my beautiful and brilliant sunshine!

Could you please do an interpretation of Jupiter in 12H. I have this placement. Thank you.

Have a lovely day! ❤️

Hello love! Sure, I can tell you about that placement. Lovely day ahead for you too. ❤️

Jupiter in the 12th house

These natives find a lot of relief, growth and healing by being alone, which is precisely why they choose to isolate themselves when there is a lot on their shoulders or a lot of stress going on in their lives. They have this old mind in young shoulders vibe, a mix of joviality and charm with hints of wisdom and compassion. They are not only very empathetic people but receptive to the energies of those around them. They have that quality of changing the vibe of a room by entering it, as well as reading between the lines of the other's small comments or behaviors. Throughout their lives, the most important journey they immerse themselves in is the journey within themselves, exploring themselves at a deep level, questioning deep and not so superficial matters. They are kind people with a very generous heart, especially with those they call friends. Their altruism and empathy can lead them to be very successful. They tend to care more about the common good, sometimes even before their own good [especially with tense aspects]. They have the tendency to give a lot of themselves in a selfless way, which can attract people who take advantage or intend to take advantage.

Many of these people are very focused and devoted to their beliefs, whether religious, spiritual or any other nature. Sticking to their ideals, they dream big and can be introverted and creative since childhood. They are very tolerant of people and, even without meaning to, they make others feel very good, either by listening to them or simply not judging them. People can get attached to them quickly and tell them those things that they don't talk about easily. They usually play the role of teacher, mentor or guide for many people around them, as people rely on them when they need support or advice. Jupiter in this house plays a protective role in the lives of the natives, since being the house of enemies, it will ensure that the natives always emerge victorious from any situation, whether they are aware of it or not. They may have a tendency to attract people who want to absorb their good energy, so it is crucial that they cleanse their energy and environments. The truth is always presented to them in one way or another and they are highly protected.

This is one of the places of resilience par excellence, because in the face of the various problems or difficulties they experience at the beginning of their lives, these natives are reborn and re-emerge stronger than ever. They know how to get ahead both with others at their side and on their own. Being in its domicile, Jupiter can present its best qualities, from the previously mentioned wisdom, to psychic, artistic or social abilities. They usually attract a lot of luck, recognition and appreciation easily. This astrological position favors foreign travel, increasing the chances that natives will explore distant lands or feel attracted to them. There is likely a specific culture or country that they feel connected to. These natives have a lot of positive karma from other lives and will be gifted with gifts, skills that they worked on in other lives or simply with that feeling of having luck on their side.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[trans-axolotl]

I think the reason psychosis is always viewed as a crisis by non-schizo effected people is cause neurotypical people are always told and believe that an episode of psychosis is the most terrifying thing that could happen. Like at least from my experience, descriptions, talks, and depictions of psychosis is AS something that's deathly scary to not know (and assumably never again know) what's real and what isn't, some depictions showing any episodes as worse than death. Like obviously that's not true but it stays with people; the telling of "it's the worst thing that could ever happen everytime" and definitely made the first few times I dealt with psychosis and hallucinations a lot worse and a lot scarier

yeah! so much of the messaging around psychosis and schizophrenia is so fucking dangerous because of the way it continually reinforces these ideas that psychosis is always terrifying, life-ending, and the worst case scenario. like that can have materially dangerous impacts on the lives of people living with psychosis/altered states. i think that kind of stigmatizing messaging about psychosis really demobilizes people in our communities and convinces people that they don't have the capability to support their loved ones with psychosis, and instead creates this idea that "professionals" are the only ones who could ever actually support someone through psychosis. and that leads to so much more forced institutionalization, pathologization, violence towards people experiencing psychosis, and just really a lack of the kind of proactive community support that could actually help prevent some kinds of crisis and distress.

i think it also makes it really hard for us, when we start experiencing psychosis/altered states for the first time, because there's really no framework for us to understand and cope with our experiences beyond just "this is the worst thing ever and there's no options for me." i think it creates a lot of forced shame and secrecy, as well as pushing a lot of us into more intense crisis because we have nowhere to go to get support. and like, when you google this half the shit that comes up tells you to call 911 immediately, and when you're someone who can't do that because it's dangerous for you, you're just left with no fucking options or getting pushed into treatment options that don't respect your autonomy.

i wish there was a lot more recognition that psychosis/altered states are something that can happen to anyone, and actually do happen to a lot more people to varying degrees and in different contexts. that psychosis is something that it is possible to live fulfilling and meaningful lives with. that you don't need to be an expert to support someone living with psychosis/altered states. and that there is so many ways of living with psychosis, and that antipsychotics and therapy are not the only options, and should never be a forced option. i also have so many thoughts about how desperately we need informed consent for antipsychotic medications and how fucking mad i am about the amount of information that is withheld from psychotic people about the side effects of our meds, the withdrawal experience, dosages, other options, etc etc etc.

anyway i just really recommend that everyone, whether you're someone who experiences psychosis/altered states or not, learns more about psychosis and do the work to challenge all these internalized myths we learn from society and the psych system. i highly recommend checking out the hearing voices network, and also really recommend Project LETS anticarceral altered states training to learn more ways to help support yourself and your loved ones.

thanks for this ask, i really agree with what you're saying!

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar where they hated each other during their childhood or teenage years, but they meet again during adulthood

hey anon! thank you so much for your request!

tw: fem!reader. swears, i feel it feels a little rushed but idk. not spell checked. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

you and logan were the ‘duo’ during karting, f2 and f3. where ever you went, logan followed and vice versa. you both understanding each other on a different level than the others around you, just simply didn’t . others around you including: oscar piastri.

you knew fine well that oscar and logan got along well. at one point logan even told you that he thought of oscar as his best friend in racing. knowing all of this should’ve made you like him, but it didn’t. you didn’t know if it was the way he walked around the karting course, when you were children, like he owned the place or if it was the little niggle in the back of your mind that acknowledged how good of a racer he actually was and that just pissed you off even more, you didn’t know. all you knew is that he needed to be brought down a peg or two and you would happily be to one to do it forever, much to logan’s chagrin.

logan really wanted the both of you to get along but you couldn’t help yourself, especially when you were younger, you had to tell him exactly what you thought about him, any and every time he pissed you off.

sometimes you did feel bad about hating on the aussie, like the times where a race didn’t really go his way, but as soon as you would go over to commiserate him he’d shout at you and tell you to get out of his way. you stopped feeling bad about it after that.

this rivalry continued all the way through to when both boys made it to f1. maybe it even deepened further. any time the two of you bump into each other, the only words said (if any) were snarky comments and backhanded compliments. mainly from your end.

none of this stopped you from supporting one of your oldest friends though, any time you were able to you would join him in the williams paddock, usually the first one to run to him when the race ended bad for him.

the most recent time you had joined logan for a race weekend was australia. you had watched along during the free practise but afterwards logan seemed to be avoiding you. you had looked everywhere for him, wanting to do your usual ‘after free practise’ routine of dissing the rest of the drivers (especially oscar) and telling logan that he was the best driver on the grid.

you make your way through the paddock searching for him and you eventually find him in the mclaren motorhome, standing with none other than oscar piastri. you roll your eyes and walk up to the two of them but they’re both too deep in their conversation that they don’t hear you coming.

“you have to tell her, mate” oscar tells logan, brows furrowed. logan’s back is to you so you can’t see his reaction, but you do hear it.

“she’ll be crushed!” it comes out a breathy and high pitched.

“obviously she’ll be crushed but do you not think it’s better for her to hear it from you” oscar replies, his eyes gentle. it pisses you off. him saying all this as if he knows you and how you would feel about certain things. you decide to make your presence known.

“i think i trust logan’s opinion on whatever you two are talking about more than yours, piastri.” your voice is a little mean but there are hints of confusion and concern for logan.

logan spins in his spot to face you. his eyes are wide and his brows sit high on his forehead. “oh uh hi! we were just talking about… racing stuff?” logan’s mouth moves faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“racing stuff?” you repeat back, “are you asking me or telling me?”. it’s a half joke, half serious question. i give him a half smile but logan stands there, a little awkwardly.

i wait for a second before my smile falls again. “okay what? what is it?” you asked a little worried now. oscar stands behind him but you forget about him, getting worried about logan now.

“logan you better tell me right now or-” you start but he cuts you off.

“i’m not racing this weekend. alex’s crash fucked up his car and they’re giving mines to him for the rest of the weekend.” logan avoids your eyes, instead choosing to stare at the floor.

it takes a while for you to calm down afterwards. logan takes you somewhere more private than the mclaren motorhome where you let out your anger.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” you ask him after you had calmed down.

“i didn’t want this to happen. i only really did it because oscar told me i should.” logan explained.

you sigh out. “well you can always tell me anything. we’ve been friends forever, logan. and i guess that was kinda nice of oscar to do that.” logan’s grin is too wide, it’s like he ignored the first part and just focused on the only nice thing you have ever said about oscar.

you roll your eyes and change the subject. “okay well i guess there’s no point in staying to watch the rest of the weekend.” logan gasps.

“well since you don’t want to stay with me, there might be a certain someone who asked for you to stay and watch.” his eyebrows wiggle teasingly. it annoys you to no end. you let him know by the long groan you let out.

that’s how you ended up watching qualifying from the mclaren garage. you were surprised oscar actually let you stay and watch in his garage, but all it took was a mere seconds conversation with logan and you were in.

although the previous qualifying had been a bit of a better result for the aussie he still practically skipped into the garage. the joys of doing well in the first part of your home race, you suspect.

“oh hey! i didn’t think you were actually gonna stay. i thought you and oscar hated each other?” lando asks after noticing you, kind of just standing there. you couldn’t be more thankful for his presence at that moment, feeling a little out of place in the papaya filled garage.

you give him a tight smile. “where did you get that from? we’re best friends.” your tone dripping with sarcasm. lando smirks with a half chuckle at your tone. before you could talk more, oscar comes up behind you.

“i knew i could get you to admit it one day.” he says to you. you can hear the happiness in his tone. this is the first time oscar has said something and it hasn’t made you want to rip his vocal cords from his throat.

“ha ha. aren’t you funny?”. lando rolls his eyes at your response before he stirs the pot.

“well i’ll leave you two to it. there’s too much tension here and it’s making the room a little stuffy.” he bounces out the garage, eager to catch up with his engineers.

you don’t know why but lando’s comment made the heat rush to your face. you hope oscar doesn’t notice. he probably does though. you are stuck on what to say and you don’t like just standing there staring at him because the more you look at him the more you like what you see, so you scramble your brain for something to say.

“thanks for telling logan to tell me about not driving this weekend.” is all you can come up with.

you can feel oscar’s confusion. “you’re welcome? is this your way of repaying me? by watching quali in my garage?” he asks. half joking.

“what no?” oscar laughs at your defensive tone.

“why are you here then?” he questions you. this then confuses you.

“logan said you wanted me to stay and watch?”.

oscar’s head dips down, eyes avoiding yours and hints of what you think is a faint blush on his cheeks.

“you didn’t want me to stay and watch?” you ask, feeling a little bold with your questions.

oscar is quick to correct you. “no i did. i said that to logan.”

“why did you even want me to stay? i thought you hated me?” you ask again, not getting tired of asking him all these questions. plus the blush made him look cute. cute for an ugly guy, you correct your own thoughts. the words that free you from spiralling confuse you more.

“i don’t hate you.”

what? he most certainly did hate you. you had year upon years of proof. possibly maybe even a decade worth of mean comments and dirty looks. what was he talking about?

your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your words. “you.. you don’t hate me?”

oscar’s head is quick to shake.

“but what about all those times we argued? and all those horrible things you said to me?” you remind him. oscar acting like none of that ever happened was baffling you.

“don’t you remember how every single one of those arguments started?” he asks. it’s your turn to shake your head.

“i would always come over after races to talk to logan and of course you were there. i would go to ask logan about the race and you would interrupt me by saying something about ‘there being no need to rub my talent in his face’ or if logan had done better than me you would always say ‘he doesn’t talk to people who only want him when he’s a winner’. even if all i wanted was to let my frustrations out with my friend. you were mean too.” you’re stunned to silence.

you didn’t think anything you said to oscar was that mean. or even worth remembering. it wasn’t in your case, that’s how you can’t even remember saying any of it.

“oh” is all you can say.

“yeah, oh. even though you were horrible i still wanted to talk to you.” oscar admits, head held high, even though can see the way the confidence on his eyes falters a little.

you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you at your actions. how could you ever hate someone who, even though they were being treated like shit, wanted to be friends to support their other friend?

“i’m sorry. that was so horrible of me. i honestly don’t know what else to say. i’m horrible.” you tell him. you wear your regret all over your face, clearly visible to oscar.

“you’re not.” oscar takes a step forward and hesitates for a second before he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “you were just trying to protect you’re friend. you’re a good person. the only reason i wanted to keep talking to you was because i wanted you to defend me like that.”

the realisation hits you, you’re face softening even more. oscar liked you. maybe even still likes you.

“oh.”

oscar smiles a little. he’s spent years hearing every little detail about you from logan he feels like he knows you just as well as the american does.

“i’ve got to do some media stuff but why don’t we grab dinner or something afterwards?” oscar offers, you nod instantly, eager to know the boy as well as logan does.

“okay, yeah that sounds good.” you smile at the boy for maybe the first time ever.

oscar smiles back.

you hated being wrong but you didn’t mind being wrong about how nice oscar was.

[multifandomgirl08]

The Engagement [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He moved his hand over yours, moving the engagement ring that he placed on your finger, side to side.

Warning(s): Fluff

A/N: This was originally on my masterlist months ago and then I took it off because I wasn't happy with it, but after who knows however many months. It's done and I'm happy with it.

Words: 1.4k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

“Hey.” You muttered into Max’s back as he stood on the balcony of the house that you rented out for the last couple of days.

Max didn’t respond, instead just let out a deep breath before you moved your arms up around his middle.

He moved his hand over yours, moving the engagement ring that he placed on your finger, side to side. It was a weight on your hand that you could definitely get used to.

Max had been outside for a while, looking out into the surf, the glass that was filled with a diluted gin and tonic sitting on the table to his side. You let him have a few moments to himself while you finished up packing the last of your things before you left to go back to Monaco in the morning.

“I’m happy to be going home tomorrow.” He said, turning his head towards you. “I’ve missed Nico.”

Your vacation with Max had been nice, but you also missed the little boy being underfoot all the time when you were all home together.

“I’ve missed him too.” You got up on the tip of your toes and kissed the back of Max’s neck. You could feel his shoulders relax a little more.

“He’ll be excited about the news.” Max said. For a moment you could have sworn you heard Nico’s voice in your head saying, ‘Mimi and Papa are getting married.’

You lightly chuckled, “Be ready for him to come running from the living room when we get home.”

“Yeah, he’ll be a ball of energy until dinner. He’ll be more happy about us getting married than my mum.” He said turning around to pull you close into his arms.

You gave Max a wide smile. In the years you had been dating Max, Sophie had become like a mom to you. She always said that she was a phone call away if you needed someone to talk to, about Max, Nico, or to just be a sympathetic ear. Part of you wondered if she knew about Max proposing to you.

“Does she know about…?” You trailed off, playing with your ring. Max’s eyes went down to your fingers. “Yeah. I showed her the ring just before we left. She sounded happy for me.” Like she approved. You could hear in the silent air.

“Well I’m glad.” Having Sophie’s support was important to you. Max was her only son, and you wanted to make sure that Sophie was okay with you becoming a part of this family.

Max was quick to take your hand in his before moving onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. You both stayed there for a while. Max taking a sip of his watered down gin and tonic before you both went back inside the villa to help him pack the last of the bags and go to sleep for the night. You had a mid-day flight to catch before you would be back in Monaco with Max by your side, and you couldn’t wait to share the happy news with Nico and Sophie.

24 hours before

You and Max were on vacation in The Bahamas and had been locked away sleeping in until the early hours of the afternoon and spending time on the beach when the sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky. Max even had something that resembled a tan instead of his normal almost shell pink color. It was nice being able to spend time with Max, just the two of you. Nico had stayed with Sophie in Max’s apartment so as to not break his schedule while you were gone.

You had missed Nico being Max’s little shadow, however, it was nice to have Max all to yourself for more than a few hours in the evening.

It was your second to last day before you would be going back home. Max had pulled you out of bed at noon for brunch, you hung out on the beach for a bit before going back to the house, showering, took a short nap, and then he told you to get dressed as he had arranged dinner plans.

You had gotten quite the surprise when you and Max had taken a walk to the beach below to see a table set up for two. The private chef that was hired during your stay had made you food. It felt a little unreal, that you got to slow dance in the surf with Max before desert came.

Max led you back to the table where you had managed to take a few bites of the desert, the sand still stuck between your toes. Max wasn’t eating any of it though. He reached over and placed his hand over yours.

“Y/N,” He breathed out. You let your eyes meet his, his hand was slightly shaking before you saw him get up from his seat and drop down to one knee. Max reached down into the pocket of the loose navy pants that he was wearing to see him pull out a dark blue box. Max seemed like he was slightly stumbling to open the box but you just looked at him, seeing the determined look on his face. He was so serious about this with his brows slightly furrowed as he tried to open the box.

God, did you love him.

He pulled the lid open on both sides, revealing the ring. It was a little unreal seeing it. When did Max have time to go get a ring?

Max looked up at you, his eyes steel blue as he looked at you, “Y/N,” He started again. “I’ve loved you for a long time. Of course, being able to spend these last few years with you has meant everything to me. You being able to accept Nico as your own. Loving me, just me. Max.” He said putting a hand up to his chest.

“Without everything else that may come with that.” You knew that there were some less-than-stellar parts of Max’s life.

“I can’t imagine a life without you in it. I know that Nico and I would be lucky to have you as part of our family. I’m asking if you will marry me?” Max wasn’t looking at you, as if he was afraid of your answer.

You nodded yes at his words, “Yes, Max.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked looking up at you. You could see the hope flooding his eyes.

“I’m sure.” You said with a final nod.

Max placed the box on the table before reaching for you. He pressed his lips to yours, his hands moving into your hair, drawing you closer to him.

You pulled away slightly, barely coming up for air.

“I wanted to get it right,” Max muttered, the nervousness slipping away from his tone. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Max dropped his forehead to yours hearing how happy he sounded. “Of course, I chose now. How can I not when you look so gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the blush that spread over your cheeks. How did he get away with saying things like that?

Max moved back just a step before pulling you out of your chair and onto your feet. He took the ring out of the navy box before sliding it onto your finger. It looked beautiful like it was meant for you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, looking down at your hand.

“It looks perfect.” You brightly replied.

“You deserve the best,” Max said into your ear.

You put your arms around Max’s neck before looking to meet his eyes. “You’re the best thing that could happen to me. You and Nico.”

“Ik houd van jou, mijn leeuwin.” He said.

“I love you too, Max.” You said back as you and Max walked through the sand with your hands interlocked. You could feel him playing with the band of the ring. You and Max slowly walked back to the house, your hands clasped together. He had pulled you into his arms once you were back in the living room laying against each other. You ended up going to bed late, Max kissing the band of your ring and placing your hand on his chest.

You didn’t get up until the late hours of the morning, and even had to pull yourself away from him as he held you against his chest.

Translations:

Ik houd van jou - I love you

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca

[miley1442111]

consequences (final part)- a.donaldson

-----------------

-----------------

a/n: HI EVERYONE! Thank you all so much for reading this story (sorry it was so long!) and supporting me, it means so fucking much to me, you don't even know! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND LIKED THE ENDING TOO :)

summary: a glimpse into your life, 4 years on.

pairing: art donaldson x reader,

warnings: talk of eating disorder, talk of pregnancy, reader is a mom, art is a dad. :)

-----------------

4 years later....

You lay in bed, an arm around your waist as the sunlight poured in from the window beside your bed. A pattering of feet and the opening of the door signalled the start of the day. Lily, and her little brother Hunter ran and jumped on top of you and Art, waking you both up from your hazy morning sleep. You rubbed your eyes to wake up, only to be met with the face of Hunter, giving you a hug. 

“Happy Mother's day!” he smiled, all two teeth an adorable sight. 

“Happy Mother’s day!” Lily squealed, squishing between you and Art to give you a hug. She would be spending the day with Tashi today, but she still counted you as her ‘mama’, not her ‘mom’ like Tashi was. 

And it didn’t bother you at all. You loved your two kids, technically neither of them were yours. Hunter had been adopted when he was 2 months old. You remembered the conversation with Art when you told him that you couldn’t get pregnant.

-----------------

“Art, I can’t have kids,” you swallowed nervously as your newly-wed husband leaned against the counter in the bathroom as you huddled over the toilet, just finished vomiting. Art had said ‘you must be pregnant’ and started stressing, so you had to just rip the plaster off and do it. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Art, I had an eating disorder for a decade, that doesn’t exactly do great things for your body.” 

“I know but-”

“But what? I can’t get pregnant anymore, end of story.”

You had expected him to be mad, to get angry. But he didn’t, of course he didn't, because he’s Art fucking Donaldson, and he loves you. 

“That’s ok baby, we can always adopt,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t have ever said it if I knew. I need you to talk to me about these things, ok?” his arms wrapped around you as you nodded, tears falling down your face. 

Art accepted you fully and loved you wholly. He was everything you’d ever wanted, and you cursed yourself for ever letting him get away, then you remembered that he cheated and that what you did was justified. 

But you loved him back all the same. 

-----------------

“Happy Mother’s day, baby,” he smirked, wrapping a hand around one of yours, and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you smiled. 

“Ok kids, pancakes for mom?” Art offered and they practically jumped for joy. He got up without another question and led the kids into the kitchen to start making your favourite, the first of many Mother’s day treats. 

Yeah, your life was great, and you loved Art Donaldson. Y/n Donaldson always had a nice ring to it anyways.

You two got married two years ago, Art and you quit tennis and now you're just regular boring celebrities. You got to galas and fundraisers, your very active in the foundation, and you get to stay at home with you kids and with Art. Art helped you heal from your ed and you helped him heal his trauma from his marriage with Tashi.

Pretty perfect life if you ask me.

-----------------

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

@blahhucantmakeme

@ellab101

@wheresthecaptaincrunch

@laur20a23

@strengthandstay

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/21-22/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Bronson Pinchot; Jes Tom; Damien Gerard; Hugo Pierre Martin; Fiber Arts Brigade; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week!; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; OFMPride Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika

== Taika Waititi ==

You've probably heard, but it's been announced that Taika is in talks to direct Percival Everett's Novel film adaptation 'James'!

Source: Inforo_media Instagram

More interviews with Taika at the Peabody!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Peabody Awards (@peabodyawards)

Source: PeabodyAward's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's new movie, Advanced Chemistry will be airing for the first time in LA on June 26th! Tickets available Dances With Films Website.

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Bronson Pinchot ==

Did you know Bronson was going to be in the new Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F movie? I didn't!

Source: Bronson Pinchot's Twitter

== Jes Tom ==

"Pride50 award ceremony held at the Edison Ballroom Monday evening in NYC" - Jes was a Queerty Honoree!

Source: Queerty's Instagram

== Damien Gerard ==

Damien is such a kind dude, he keeps sharing kitten pictures <3

Source: Damien Gerard's Instagram

== Hugo Pierre Martin ==

Our dear Hugo Pierre Martin has a new audio series on Spotify! He asked for some help from the pirate crew to checkout the new audio series and he'd share some anecdotes from the set of OFMD! There were lots -- so I tried to make a screenshot of all together-- (not sure where #3 is?- couldn't find it on the thread). Wanna give a listen? Check out The Diaries of Netovicius the Vampire - Podcast!

Source: HugoPMartin Twitter

== Fiber Arts Brigade ==

Our lovely friends over at the Fiber Arts Brigade have another Cameo, this time from the sweet Dominic Burgess! Check out the video below!

You can help support Sage USA on their direct donation link: https://give.sageusa.org/campaign/592202/donate

They'd like to remind you, you can also enter your @sageusa donation in @adoptourcrew's raffle! You can also support SAGE by checking out the Fiber Arts Auction: https://tinyurl.com/FABforSAGE

Source: Fiber Arts Brigade Twitter

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Reminder ==

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Week Starts Tomorrow! Need a reminder of hashtags and more info? Visit their Tumblr post!

Source: Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards from our dear friend @melvisik! The first cast card is William Meny, one of the writers aka executive story editor! The next is Edward Fletcher! "The cuckolded spouse of Eugenia. He was one of the officers in Titanic (I think the one who hears about the iceberg from the lookouts) so had to include that."

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

== OFMPride Colouring Pages ==

More colouring pages from the absolute legend @patchworkpiratebear!

Source: Adopt Our Crews Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I realise this is really late.. I took last night off because I needed a break. I highly recommend it, it's amazing what a good nights reset can do for you. Tonight I wanted to just say a few little things... You all really are an inspiration. I keep reading more meta... more fics, and so many of you are putting up more art-- there's another prompt week starting tomorrow, I'm seeing multiple collaborations... I've been reading so many lovely letters, and seeing so many fun new gifs, and so many artists/writers being part of these wonderful donation drives. Some of you are making sweet comments, and encouraging others to create-- you are all just absolutely amazing.

You're just so damn creative and so kind, and so brilliant, and I'm really really humbled to be apart of this lovely community with you. Please know that you are so very wonderful and so very loved crew. Hope you get some rest this weekend <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme, well, I don't have one. Instead, just enjoy. Gifs courtesy of our good friends @meluli and @ofmd-ann!

[vegaseatsass]

The Sol-tuation is a lot more nuanced than that!!

Who knew I, an absolutely feral Mingjoe shipper, would end up making so many posts about the secondary love interest who never stood a chance with our protagonist, but I truly think they're doing some fascinating things with this character and it hurts a little to see so so so many fandom reactions that take what's happening on the surface as the full story with no interest in peeling back those appearances.

I will say before I start: huge credit to @zhouxiangs for so many of these opinions, she shared a few insights about Sol with me today that completely reshaped my interpretation of the character, so thank you x 2389234, this post is not exclusively My thoughts. (Also SolYim as a ship is galaxy brain and the only thing I now want for Sol's future. Thank you for that TOO)

So I very much understand why what it appears Sol is doing - ignoring Joe's clear lack of interest in him to pursue him, taking every opportunity to touch him, and working overtime to prevent Joe from seeing the truth about Ming and his obvious devotion, so he can still "win" Joe instead - is rubbing a lot of people the wrong way. Straight up, situations where people I'm not romantically interested in have pursued me despite my clear and direct (and often hard-fought because I used to be a huge people pleaser) "no" are something I hope to avoid for the rest of my natural life. Relentless pursuit can be a sexy fantasy if you want someone back, as Joe does Ming, but for most of us, it's emotionally pressuring nightmare fuel if you don't.

But I would argue that's really not what's happening. An extremely essential missing piece of context to Sol's behavior is that Joe died because of his relationship with Ming, and Sol spent years grieving him. In episode 9 in particular, they're all face-to-face with the cold hard truth of that grief, and I don't think Sol is any exception, even if he knows Joe is back now. In episode 8, Sol confirmed Joe was back, and he was so euphorically happy, but he was not pushing and shoving Joe to hop into a relationship with him, was he? He was just delighted Joe was alive. But this episode, he's suddenly faced with the very real prospect that Ming and Joe still have feelings for each other. That Joe may return to the man who got him killed. Who Sol, in his own eyes, failed to protect Joe from in his first life, even though Sol so badly wanted to pay back Joe's sincerity to him. And I think the threat of losing Joe again is making Sol (who ran back to Korea instead of processing his grief and guilt over his death) a little insane.

I mean, let's talk about Sol in Joe's first life. After Joe told him he couldn't return his feelings, did we see any inkling of this frantic episode 9 pushiness? Sure, there was the moment where he tried to convince Joe that he and Ming were incompatible, after watching Ming need to hide Joe from his family in what I'm sure read as shame to Sol. I can give Sol some grace for this knowing he struggled with coming to terms with his own sexuality (see: the first time he ran away to Korea), and is now trying to overcompensate for who he was in the past, but you don't have to give him this grace if you don't want to. I can admit his desire to support Joe as a friend is compromised by the tumultuousness of his longing for Joe. Like there's also the fight with Ming on the staircase where Joe gets knocked down and Sol and Ming just keep fighting. Sol is not a saintly unselfish being who keeps his feelings and his desire to protect and support Joe perfectly separate, by any means. (To me this is part of why he's interesting and human, but I get that we all have different character preferences.)

But dinner with Ming's family aside, when first life Joe tells Sol he doesn't want to be with him, Sol lets it go and is happy living in the friend zone. When Joe tells him not to come over and intervene when he's trying to break up with Ming, Sol listens. Sol believes that Joe can handle himself and he respects the boundaries that Joe sets, regardless of what he wants or hopes in the privacy of his own heart.

And what happens without Sol's intervention? Without anyone's intervention? Joe dies. Joe is chained up in a basement - Joe was not safe with Ming, Joe was not able to clear the situation up using just his words - and blacklisted from the industry, driven to desperate financial straits and killed.

So my read of Sol is that he's scrambling to make himself a shield. He thought he was already in a role where he could support Joe, this time around, but this episode raised the threat of Joe going back to Ming and dying again, and now he's frantically trying to change himself into something that can actually keep Joe from doing that. If Joe suddenly decided he wanted to be with Sol and not Ming, would Sol be happy on his own behalf? Of course, I'm not denying that. But I really think so much of the desperation to offer himself as a romantic choice is to try to show Joe he has options that aren't Ming, to try to intervene in ways he didn't in Joe's first life, at any cost.

You can't force someone not to return to an abusive partner, the same way you can't force someone not to commit suicide, or make any other choice where they could get hurt or disappear from your life forever. It's a necessary journey for everyone, to realize you have to respect your loved ones' agency even when they're making choices that terrify you to your core. Sol has not learned that yet, and I'm not defending how pushy and out of pocket he was being this episode. But I'm really, really sympathetic to the absolutely frantic terror that I think was underlying it. If you've never had a suicidal loved one or a loved one trapped in a destructive cycle, it's easy enough to expect Sol to do the right things (the actually HELPFUL and supportive things), instead of the toxic, selfish things. For me he's a far richer and more human character for making the wrong choices, though. For being selfish, but not about wanting to possess Joe and force his feelings Sol's way. About wanting to keep Joe alive and unharmed by force, instead of trusting Joe to make his own choices. Again: you have to let people decide these things for themselves. You have to! If you don't support your loved ones' agency, any other support you think you're offering them is useless and suffocating and will genuinely compound whatever they're dealing with, make it much harder for them to heal, leave, etc - whatever the "healthy" choice is, they can't make it with you forcing them into it. They can't make it without you surrendering to the possibility of them making the "unhealthy" choice; without you accepting that it is their choice. But for a fictional character to go from "genuinely supportive friend" to "publicly announcing you're in a branded relationship a day after your own funeral" because he sees you slipping from his grasp - not emotionally, but potentially literally, metaphysically, permanently, AGAIN - well, to me, that's juicy and compelling.

I'm also more sympathetic to Sol than to Wut when it comes to telling Joe that Ming loves him, frankly. I think Joe needs an impartial friend (Yim!!!) that he can process all his Ming issues with openly, because it is never helpful to feel like because your friends know that your abuser/ex/etc harmed you, you can never go to them to process the moments of kindness and love. Joe needs to be able to look at the full picture of who Ming is and what Ming feels and decide for himself, he doesn't need Sol strongarming him out of accepting that Ming is capable of both great cruelty and great love. But Wut always takes the path of least resistance and it absolutely maddens me. To just say, with no qualification, "The man I and only I know knocked you out and kept you locked in a basement loves you, actually" is absolutely insane and irresponsible. I do not for a second believe Wut was ready to express nuance, to say, like, "I think Ming loves you in his own way, but that love is dangerous and possessive and I hope you stay away." If we see anything in the text that demonstrates otherwise I'm happy to be wrong about this, and then I would be in the "Let Wut speak!" camp. But for now, I do think he was going to play the role of an enabler, just because he finds it easier to let Ming handle Joe's estate and be in Joe's life than to fight it. Lol it still doesn't make Sol right to try to keep Joe from seeing the full picture, but I'm sympathetic to him going wtf, Wut? Do you really think Ming loves him? knowing what Wut knows.

Anyway this is sooooo long so I will try to wrap it up, but I wanted to also talk about Sol and Joe and physical touch. Like I said at the beginning, I totally understand seeing how often Sol hugs Joe or grabs him and feeling uncomfortable imagining yourself in Joe's shoes. But as uncomfortable as EYE would be with Sol's affections, I want to try to analyze how Joe the character feels about all this. Now one of the things I most love about this series is the opaqueness of all the characters' choices, how there is always ambiguity and room for more than one interpretation. So if you watch the scenes where Sol puts his hands on Joe and think Joe looks trapped or unhappy, that is your prerogative! I noticed that the two times he shook Sol's touch off in the episode were when he thought Sol was going to stop him from breaking into his loft, and when he thought Sol was going to cause a scandal with Ming at the press party. Otherwise, from where I sit (my interpretation only!), Joe does not appear to experience Sol's touch as something unwanted or unsafe. I would actually make the argument that having someone he's known for years sharing a bed with him, hugging him, holding his hand, etc, could be offering Joe essential tactile comfort he's not getting from anyone else while he's in the midst of grieving his past life. For all we know, the level of physical intimacy between them is something that completely predates Sol acknowledging his feelings. This could be a normal level of touchiness between them, and not an example of Sol "taking liberties" or trying to force his way into Joe's heart.

To me the upshot of everything is that Joe, to my eyes, seems to feel completely safe with Sol and his professed feelings. When Sol brings his feelings up again when they're getting their makeup done, Joe's response ("how did the conversation turn to this?") pinged me as playful, affectionate, not uncomfortable and pressured. Joe is absolutely terrified of Ming's feelings for him and, significantly, what they would do to Joe's feelings for Ming - he is keeping himself away from Ming by the power of "You don't love me and never did" and when that crumbles so will most of his ability to resist him, I think - but Sol's feelings can't do anything to Joe. They can't make him want things he doesn't want, and they can't make him want things he doesn't want to want. I would argue that Sol is a friend that Joe feels safe around, and his open crush on Joe causes a bit of awkwardness, to be sure, but it doesn't make Joe feel pressured to do anything but be himself. When he's with Sol, he's not afraid of Sol, Sol's feelings, or Joe's feelings. I think that's important to acknowledge! The same way that Sol needs to accept that Joe is allowed to make the choice to go back to Ming and it's never been in Sol's hands, imo fandom needs to accept that if Joe is comfortable with Sol and his affections, we can't argue that he is being pressured by them, or in danger, or anything else.

But that's just my interpretation! I am happy to be disagreed with, haha. I just think Sol is as rich and interesting a character as Ming, but many of us as viewers have more trouble with flawed and selfish kindness (Sol) than we do with complex cruelty (Ming). But I love flawed and selfish kindness. I love characters who are trying so hard to be good and to take care of people they love, and fucking it up and not seeing the ways their wants and fears are getting in the way. So I love Sol. And obviously have a lot to say about him lol.

[yasdemonslay]

supporting you and your master list - how about, "how does each hashira deal with feelings of jealousy in a relationship?" or do they even get jealous

first and foremost, thank youuu. :3 i love this, let's go!

part one: tomioka giyu, tengen uzui, rengoku kyojuro, shinazugawa sanemi i'm going to write out this scenario as if they're witnessing you being hit on in front of them. or a good friend of yours is being a little too close for their comfort. oh, and for the most part, gender neutral tiimeeee!

{{ tomioka giyu 🌊

ohhhhhhhhhh man, he's brooding lmao.

he's bottling up those feelings for the entire evening TRUST. like it's shitty, but you barely notice that he's bothered. which, come on, giyu.

he may get a little more withdrawn as the night goes on.

but i do see him staring daggers at that person. or even excusing himself because he just doesn't want to deal.

i get the feeling that he'd be self-aware of his insecurities though. like he trusts you... but he just feels doesn't like the idea of someone thinking things about you.

{{ tengen uzui 💎

so.

okay i don't see him getting a way about it.

honestly, if someone hits on you in front of him, you know he's teasing you all night and all week about it lmaooo.

"wow, they have great taste..." *eyebrow wiggle*

"ohhh do I need to step my game up right now? should i be taking notes?!" *playfully swats your behind*

god damn it, uzui.

{{ rengoku kyojuro 🔥

king of transparency and open communication lmaoo. but he's not immune to jealous. in my headcannon, he's such an old-fashioned gentleman, honestly.

and cheesy af, but we love him for that.

why does this man speak in poems at you.

"i have to be honest, my love! my heart feels a bit uneasy watching you with them. i trust you, but i think talking it out would help me!"

like he addresses his feelings before y'all even leave lololol.

{{ shinazugawa sanemi 🌪️

lord please fucking help the poor soul who hits on you in front of this man.

he's like... the opposite of everything above, oh dear.

unapologetically pissed. offended. and not willing to be rationalized out of his anger or the situation.

hmm, a tad possessive.

will, without a doubt, call the person out. at the party.

"you’re mine, and i don’t want anyone else getting any ideas."

on the same coin, he'd seek a little bit of reassurance, whether he'd admit it directly or not. he wants to hear that you're not tempted by anyone else.

aw.

[greenqueenhightower]

I know u won't get my point, but Alicent should have paid more attention to Rhaenyra and respected her and her father's wishes and not have installed her fucking son on the throne. Things started going south when she married Viserys and when she wanted to strip Rhaenyra off her birthright

How about, no?

*Long Rant Incoming:*

1) Viserys didn't talk about "birthright." In the eyes of the smallfolk, Aegon has the "birthright" to rule simply because he is a male Targaryen heir. Alicent's position was vulnerable because Viserys never actually promised Alicent that Aegon would be king but neither did he specify exactly what his role would be and that was the point… all his children wanted his attention and love, and a place to belong. Viserys didn’t know what he wanted. Before naming Rhaenyra his heir, he wanted a son so desperately that he killed his wife for it. His conscience pained him badly afterward, and he decided to name Rhaenyra his heir. Nevertheless, he wanted a young woman to sleep with; he didn’t want a wife, he didn’t want more kids, and he had already named his heir. But he married Alicent and had those kids anyway. He really was so irresponsible and on top of that, he tells Alicent in episode 3 that he thinks he probably was wrong in making Rhaenyra his heir because of his dream/prophecy, so ofc Alicent was worried. Honestly, he could have made his mind up about Rhaenyra and shut up about it. Or he could have actually thought of his other kids and given them some work to do and trained them for some position if he truly cared for them. From the moment they existed, they were his responsibility. And for sure it makes sense why his kids by Alicent, not having known any special love from their father, would want to finally claim a position for themselves.

So, Viserys set the Dance in motion by his choices. If he had supported his Targtower kids and ensured they wouldn’t be threatened by their mad uncle (Daemon; who hated them just because they were Otto's and Alicent's blood) in the succession, then Alicent would have fewer reasons to establish Aegon on the throne.

2) Alicent spent time with Viserys because she had always considered her own self in reference to the Targaryens. What was she if not Rhaenyra’s childhood companion? When Otto compels her to visit Viserys she doesn’t want to. She brings along the book of histories she used to read to Rhaenyra. What else can she offer to the Targaryens? This is what they like: to talk about their legacies and their histories. So she might as well read to him, right? There’s no harm done. And she went. She does the bare minimum whenever they are together: the bare minimum of eye contact and conversation. Viserys was SO PERVERSE that even with the minimum attention from a teenager he wanted to fuck her. Not even make her his wife because he didn’t want another wife. And you see how surprised Alicent is when he declares so matter-of-factly that he will wed Alicent, no questions asked. Because she was the easiest bride-but-no-wife choice of them all. She already had her father in court who was a megalomaniac, and Viserys thought that by marrying Alicent he was giving Otto what he always wanted: greater opportunities for social climbing. So he’d stay out of his way, right? That’s what he wanted all along, right? So I can have your daughter any way I like, right? (Because had he married Laena, can you imagine being so chill with Corlys as a father-in-law? Ofc he wouldn’t desire anything potentially restrictive for him.) And I’m saying that he didn’t want a wife because of what he’d done before to Aemma. He had already made up his mind that (to console his own conscience and to honor Aemma’s memory) he would make Rhaenyra his heir. SO HE DIDN'T NEED ANY MORE HEIRS. Then why does he get married and have some more?? BECAUSE HE IS AN IDIOT and because he just wanted a young bride. He is the reason the war began, and his reckless choices, not Alicent wanting some compensation for her years of mistreatment and suffering. Because even after he got married and had those kids he still had time to make things right but he didn’t.

So Alicent didn’t marry Viserys, it was the other way around. He lusted after her and wed and bed her. Teenage Alicent couldn’t and wouldn't go against the will of the King.

3) Regarding the friendship between Alicent and Rhaenyra it was actually the opposite: Alicent many times tried to defend her and had her back even when Viserys and Otto believed the rumors of her losing her maidenhood (which as an unmarried heir was an insult to the crown). Alicent didn’t want to believe it and she supported her! However, even earlier than that, Rhaenyra cast Alicent off without understanding or offering consolation for the predicament she found herself in. She never tried to understand Alicent and never really paid enough attention to what her friend was going through even before she married Viserys. Alicent was alone and without a friend and Rhaenyra should have paid more attention to her.

4) Things really started to go south when Rhaenyra betrayed Alicent's trust by lying to her and continuing to flout her freedom, special treatment, and life without consequences to Alicent's face. The reason Rhaenyra had bastards and married Laenor was her own fault in the first place. Alicent tried to encourage Viserys to look for any potential suitors for her, and Rhaenyra had every opportunity to make the right choice but no, she messed it up by seeking out Daemon and then sleeping with Criston, so she brought it to herself. After what she did, there was no suitor available apart from Laenor, and her father forced her to marry him because no one else would. And then she had three Strong kids, making every mistake after the other (although I understand her completely: she had to have those kids because she wanted heirs and because that’s her body her choice, you know? She can sleep with whomever she wants) but at the same time, the game they all play is political and during the time and age we’re discussing, it was a big deal if you had bastard kids, especially since there already were THREE legitimate male Targaryen heirs whose fate was unsure and further endangered by Rhaenyra's actions. But it wasn’t Alicent’s fault that Rhaenyra had those kids, it was her own choice and she had to live up to the consequences of her actions. (She did this once by taking her children away from KL because she, too, recognized that they were being pointed at too much and it was getting too obvious).

5) Alicent knew that Rhaenyra wasn’t going to hurt her kids but the system they were born in would. In case she became heir, for Rhaenyra to secure her succession and have no challengers, Alicent’s kids had to die. Those displeased by Rhaenyra could easily dethrone her if there was an active male heir free to roam around Westeros. Alicent's sons would always be a challenge to Rhaenyra. And maybe Rhaenyra hadn’t thought about it per se and I trust that she never had vile intentions towards the kids (despite the deleted scenes where she gives death stares to Aegon) and despite never calling them by their names or developing a relationship with her siblings. Her own council and her uncle-husband would advise her to kill them. Their position wasn’t safe. Viserys could have secured it by giving them land and titles instead of the throne and by having them bend the knee to Rhaenyra but he didn’t. So their position was very much vulnerable because again, he didn’t care at all what happened to them, but Alicent, claiming the throne for her son, and saving his life the only way she knew how, DID.

[i-willstealyourtoes]

Could u possibly write a Hunter x Reader where the reader is friends with Cid so Hunter immediately assumes they're a horrible person, when in reality they're just a caretaker for their twin siblings and are just trying to get by

I've been thinking about this for days now and I'd love to see it written out (my writing is horrid lol)

I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been rlly tryna push though my lack of motivation 😭

Hunter with caretaker!Reader

- When Hunter firsts sees you in the bar, it's easy for him to assume that you're, well..

- Just as much of a good person as Cid

- And for that reason, he keeps contact to a minimum

- Only talking to you when needed, answering in short, cold sentences when in a conversation with you

- He especially keeps careful when with Omega

- Of course, she can handle herself, but he doesn't want her interacting too much with Cid, let alone anyone like her

- This keeps on for a while, until he has to leave Omega at Cid's again

- When he comes back, he's greeted by a surprising image

- Omega was happily chatting away with you, and you were reciprocating just fine

- He doesn't immediately trust you, but it certainly interests him

- Ever since then, Omega had been trying to convince Hunter that you're actually a great person

- Until one day, it's late and he finally decided to talk to you

- "You're good with kids.."

- He would start off, almost with a tone of surprise in his voice

- You're a friend of Cid, how can you be good with kids?

- But then you explain about how you have to work for Cid to provide for your younger siblings

- And he feels

- Kind of horrible, to be honest

- Here he was, assuming you were a bad person, when you were almost like him, just trying to get enough money to provide for your family

- He doesn't really apologise, since you didn't know what he thought of you, but you can feel him warm up to you after that

- He lets Omega talk to you whenever, if anything, he prefers when you two are together than Omega just staying back at Cid's alone or with anyone else

- He'll talk to you more openly, occasionally asking you for advice on how to handle kids

- Most importantly, if he gets any spare money (which is rare, I know), he tries to give it to you

- "Here. As thanks for watching over Omega when we're gone."

- He wants to support you more, since he knows your struggle, but he can only really give you a little money

- I feel like he wouldn't immediately try to romance you, since he's busy with work and family, and you're busy with work and family

- But he keeps the idea of you two in his mind, as some sort of comfort when he sleeps

- When they find Pabu, Omega immediately suggests they bring you and your siblings along (Hunter was already thinking of this before Omega even suggested it)

- And since they're already freeing themselves from Cid, they could do it again...

- So they do, and let you and your siblings settle down on the island

- It's... so much better than the living conditions on Ord Mantell

- Plus, now Omega gets to meet your younger siblings and hang out with them!!

- Hunter doesn't say anything, but it warms his heart to see Omega with other kids, watching them play with you and him sitting back

- He still doesn't want to confess to you, since he still has things to do

- But moments like these, he feels at home, having you with him and Omega and the other kids happy

- Maybe after/during S3, he gives a very awkward confession, even though at that point you're unknowingly dating already

- But he wants to make it official, so you two can settle down on Pabu comfortably

[arvandus]

Daily Drabble - The Mortality of Aging (Asmo x GN!Reader)

CW: hurt/comfort; argument with resolution

Asmodeus has always been your biggest cheerleader, your biggest supporter, the one who pampers you daily with self-care routines, and reassures you about how beautiful you are, regardless of how you feel about your body. He will do your nails without asking, take on spa days to celebrate his latest modeling gig, and worship every inch of you when he has you in his bed.

Which makes it all the more confusing as to why he suddenly started acting so different recently. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore, his words about self care became more of an insistence rather than a fun activity rooted in self-love. The more he pressed, the more you withdrew, and the more you withdrew, the more upset he got.

You couldn't understand what had triggered this change in behavior from him. Was his sin of lust and vanity growing in strength? Was he finding it harder and harder to maintain his attraction to you? It didn't take long for old doubts and insecurities to creep back in, weeds taking root in a garden that had recently been left untended.

It came to a head, as all things do when the pressure becomes too much. An evening following a tiring day where all you wanted was to rest, to snuggle against Asmodeus's side and fall asleep the gentle touches of his fingers against your skin and his soft lips pressing tender good night kisses across your face. It was all you wanted, all you needed in this moment, but Asmodeus was oblivious to it - which was so unlike him.

"Come on darling, let's at least wash your face..."

"I already washed my face."

"But the first time you didn't use the right soap! I bought you that new one, it's gentler on your skin. Don't you remember?"

Actually, you didn't. You couldn't remember half of the skin care things he wanted you to use, and he always seemed to come home with more the next day.

"Look, it's not a big deal, I'll start using it tomorrow. I'm just really tired..."

"Nonsense, it'll be fast. The night time is the most important time for skin care. Come on, I'll do it for you."

"Asmo, I don't want to!"

But he was already getting up, trying to pull you up to join him.

"Come on, sweetie, it'll only take a minute!"

That was a lie... Asmo's skin care routines were more like thirty minutes, and you both knew it, and you were out of patience let alone minutes.

Anger finally bubbled enough to get past your lips and you yanked your hand out of his grasp.

"I said no! Jesus, Asmo! What is going on with you??"

Asmo froze for a moment, then his eyes welled with hurt tears.

"I just want to take care of you! Why won't you let me take care of you??"

"This isn't taking care of me! Lately you've been pushing your skin care stuff on me, trying to control my diet, telling me when I should go to sleep and wake up and exercise... this isn't taking care, of someone Asmo! This is controlling someone!"

"I'm not trying to control you! I just want you to take better care of yourself!"

"I take care of myself just fine. I don't need you micromanaging me. I've been feeling less like your partner lately, and more like a doll that you want to play with. I'm not a fucking toy, Asmo."

His hands were up in defense, pale palms open towards you like white flags of peace. "Of course you're not! Sweetie, I never said you were. But I know that sometimes... well, you can slack off a little bit--"

Oh now you were seeing red. Your hands balled into fists, and now you were sitting up on the bed on your knees, ready to run for the door.

But not after giving him a few choice words.

"Slack off? Slack off?? Are you fucking kidding me? Asmodeus, I work my fucking ass off, and you know it. Do you want to know why I'm too tired to do your stupid 25 step skin care routine? Because I worked, all fucking day, wrangling your brothers, studying for exams, indulging the Prince of the Devildom when he wanted to talk, help Barbatos run some errands, help Lucifer with paperwork..." You pressed your hands to your forehead, frustrated hot tears welling in your eyes. "But yeah, I guess I'm a fucking failure because I didn't wash my face right, or use the right cream. I'm sorry, I'm not perfect, Asmo. I'm sorry I'm not just like you. And I'm so fucking sorry if I'm an embarrassment to be around because I'm not pretty enough for you."

The tears finally slipped, running burning tracks down your cheeks. But despite your desire to leave, to run out of his door to leave him standing there dumbfounded, you couldn't. Not until you heard his response. Your eyes challenged him, daring him to push you that last little bit, knowing that if he did so, it might ruin more than just your evening together.

Asmo fell silent and his breaths went shallow, as if his chest had been hollowed out by the cutting edge of your angry rant.

"Is... is that what you think? That I don't love you anymore?"

You choked on your own air, his soft voicing cutting you just as much as your loud voice had cut him. "No, that's not what I meant--"

"Isn't it though?" he asked, brows furrowed.

His hand reached out to you, guided by the urge to touch you, but he hesitated. Then he balled it into a fist and his arm fell limply to his side. His eyes looked down at the floor and stayed there.

"I... I know what I am," he said quietly. "I know that I'm vain, and self-centered, and obsessed with myself... I never really seen it as a bad thing. Why would it bad to love yourself, to take care of yourself? Our bodies are the one thing we are allowed to have complete control over. So why not treat it like the shrine that it is? Treat it with respect, with love, and others will treat you that way too."

"Do you think that's what's happening?" you asked. "That I'm not loving myself enough?"

Asmodeus lifted his eyes to you, his unshed tears still trapped in his thick lashes. He studied you for a long moment, his amber gaze drinking you in, and you knew in that moment that he still loved you. Achingly, completely, and utterly loved you.

"Maybe..." he replied, so quietly, as if uncertain about his answer, as if it wasn't something he'd considered before a moment ago. "All I know is that you're changing. You're changing, and it terrifies me. And you don't even seem to notice or seem to care..."

"Changing?" your forehead wrinkled, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Changing how?"

Asmo stepped towards you, closing the distance until you could feel the warmth of his body in the sliver of space between you. His eyes roamed over your face, meticulous and slow. His fingers came up and lightly traced along the corners of your eyes, then down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. Your breath caught in your chest, trapped by longing.

"Here...and here..." he said quietly. "Little lines that weren't there before. They're small now, but.... they'll grow, get bigger, deeper..." He slowly withdrew his hand.

Your hand came up and touched your own face, and finally you understood.

"These? They're just age lines, Asmo... every human gets them eventually..."

He gave a small, empty laugh, and his trapped tears finally fell, shining crystals stuck to the flawless skin of his cheeks.

"I know," he replied. "I know. But it means that eventually, I'm going to lose you. And I can't lose you. I can't."

His head dipped forward and rested against your shoulder, the soft locks of his hair pressed against your cheek.

The burning ember of anger finally went out beneath your veins, cooled by the sad tears that now began to fill your vision.

"Asmo..." you whispered. Your left hand came up to cup the back of his neck, while your right hand came up to run your fingers through his hair. Then, you gently lifted his head until he could look at you. "Look at me. That's not going to happen for a long long time."

"Long for you, darlin'. I'm an angle turned demon, remember? Time is different for me. Another sixty to eighty years is not nearly enough time with you."

His hands cupped your face as he stared at you, and you watched as the warm affection in his eyes darkened into sorrow.

"You're the first thing I've loved as much as myself. Maybe... maybe even more than myself. It hurts... like my heart is living outside of my body, fragile and defenseless..."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I wouldn't say defenseless..."

Asmo gave a small amused scoff, like sunlight peaking out from behind dark, heavy clouds. But then it was gone again, hidden away by the shadow of his sadness. "You're defenseless against time."

Your own smile faded, and your hands quietly covered his as you put your forehead to his. "I know."

A heavy silence fell like fog around the both of you. Asmo's eyes were relaxed and downcast in thought as you breathed each other's air and basked in the warmth of your tentative embrace.

A heavy question began to eat away at you, and you knew you had to ask it before it devoured all of your hope entirely.

"Asmo... do you regret it?"

Asmo's eyes looked up to meet yours, the colors of his irises nearly iridescent to the point of distraction.

"Hm?" he replied. "Regret what?"

You swallowed the fear that chained your tongue and tilted your head down. "Do you regret loving me?"

Asmo's thumbs stroked your cheeks and he lifted your face back up to look at him, nose to nose.

"Never. Never ever. And don't you dare think I'll ever stop loving you, either."

Tears slipped past the barrier of your lashes to catch on his thumbs. "Even..." you voice broke, and you swallowed. "Even when I'm old and wrinkled and ugly?"

Asmo looked crestfallen, his eyes shining again with unshed tears. "You'll never be ugly to me."

You gave a wry laugh. "Don't lie to me Asmo, it's mean."

Asmo's smile faltered and his jaw clenched before his grip around your face tightened. Not enough to hurt, never to hurt... but enough to get you out of your own head, and make you focus your full attention on him so you could see every drop of love, every bit of honesty.

"I'm not lying to you. You're beautiful now, and you'll be beautiful then too. These" - his thumbs stroked the faint hint of crows feet kissing your eyes - "aren't ugly to me."

"But you hate them, you were trying to erase them--"

"Because they scare me, doll."

A stubborn silence between the two of you as you stared each other down, you with your doubt, and Asmodeus with his persistence. Finally, he sighed and pulled you against him in a hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you and made you feel like you aren't enough. I'll learn to love them, I promise. I just might need some time to get used to them."

Your arms tightened around him and you inhaled the scent of his cologne. "I love you," you muffled into his shirt.

His hold on you tightened, his lips brushing your ear. "I love you more."