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straykeedz · 3 days

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currently having a chan brainrot like i usually do but this time its a breeding kink and i want him to get me pregnant so bad (not actually i promise) this is becoming a problem i swear

you’re sooo real for this anon 😩 us being in a chan brainrot 🤝 also sorry if this is pretty bad but i started writing it on the bus omw to my exam fhdjdk

breeding kink with chan

tw: afab!reader. mentions of contraception and a hypothetical future pregnancy. breeding kink. unprotected piv sex (reader is on the pill but still - don’t do this at home!!!). creampie. just soft sex with chan that at some point turns kinda rough. but they’re very much in love!!

─── ⋆⋅♡ ⋅⋆ ──

From the moment he sinks into you, he’s completely and utterly surrounded by you - your scent, your essence, your warmth, your wetness, your everything. This time, he gets to feel even more - he gets to feel you properly, without the barrier of the condom between your bodies.

“Oh my fucking- baby. Baby, I’m- this feels amazing,” he pants, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure as he keeps pushing the rest of his length inside of you.

You’re not that reckless, though - you’re on birth control. You just happen to have run out condoms for the first time in over two years of dating and, since the both of you are clean of course, you didn’t mind doing it without one.

And boy, is Chan right - it feels amazing. You can feel every inch of his cock perfectly - every vein, every twitch and throb inside of you.

You have talked about this beforehand - he knows he has to pull out. Sure, you’re on birth control, but even if it’s only a very small percentage, it doesn’t mean the risks aren’t there, and you both know you’re not ready for a child right now.

“You feel so good Channie.” He positively melts whenever you call him that - Channie. It makes him feel so safe and so loved and taken care of. “Move, please. I need to feel you.”

Chan lets out a squeaky giggle. “Baby. Baby, be patient, ah. I’m, like, three seconds away from finishing.”

Oh.

It really feels that good for him? Is it really that different? Judging by the pained expression plastered on his face, it is. You pull him closer, crashing your lips on his. Why did the thought of him finishing inside of you turn you on so much?

“Baby. Stop clenching,” he whines pathetically. “I swear I’m not even kidding, I’m so close already.”

You didn’t even realise you were clenching around him - trying to pull him closer, trying to feel more of him, feel him deeper inside of you with the tip of his pretty cock about an inch away from your cervix, judging by the feeling.

“Don’t… want this to last. It feels so good. Don’t cum.”

Chan simply chuckles, kissing your cheek. “Of course I’m not gonna cum inside. We talked about it.”

This time you’re well aware you’re clenching around him once again. You can’t help it, though.

“You’ve got to seriously stop doing that, though,” Chan whines, pulling slightly out of you just in case.

“I’m sorry. I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear. It’s just… a natural reflex?”

Your confession seems to pique Chan’s interest. He smirks, eyebrows raised so that they’re camouflaged in his dark curls. “Oh? Does it turn you on? The thought of me finishing inside of you?”

You clench again. Chan, who at first thought you were just messing with him, is surprised by your reaction. He can see you’re not faking it and that you’re really enjoying it. It awakens something inside of him, a primal need he didn’t know it was there in the first place. He decides to indulge you in your own sexual fantasy - which, ironically enough, is also his.

When he begins to move inside of you, he does it while looking into your eyes, holding your head still by the chin. “Look at me. Fuck- you want my cum? You want it inside your pussy?”

You nod weakly, you can’t really move your head with his hand keeping you in place. It’s hot.

“I need words. Tell me you want my cum.”

“I need your cum,” you wail pathetically, desperately.

He fucks into you slowly. His eyes squeeze shut with each thrusts as he savours the feeling of you tightly wrapped around him.

“Yeah? You need it?” He naps his hips faster, crashing with yours repeatedly.

“I do. Chan, I do.”

He grunts and pants and sighs and whines as he fucks you with a desperation he’s never showed before.

“You really wanna get knocked up, huh? Wan’ me to fill your pretty pussy. You want everyone to know you belong to me, yeah?”

His words shouldn’t make you this wet.

“Chan-“

“You want me to… fucking fill you up and- and make you a mommy, yeah?” He breaks the eye-contact just to look at where your bodies meet, at where he’s entering you repeatedly, fucking you hard and fast. “God, baby, you take me so well. Look at that.”

He moves your chin so that now you too are looking at where his fat cock disappears inside of you.

“Wish I could do it for real. Wish I could cum inside… watch it leak out of you once I’m finished pumping you full,” he mumbles absentmindedly. “Bet you’d look so good.”

The more you think about it, the more he talks about it, the more you want it.

“Chan. Chris. Channie,” you whine, still watching mesmerised the way he pumps in and out of you swiftly. “Do it. Do it, baby.”

“Wha-, uh, what?”

“Cum inside.”

“But we agreed-“

“I know what we agreed on,” you breathe. “But I changed my mind. I want this. I want to feel you, feel more. Do you?”

He does. And he can see it in your eyes that you’re sure.

“Fuck, alright,” he keeps thrusting inside of you, suddenly much closer to reaching his high. “Alright. We’re really doing it. You’re gonna let me fill you up. You’re really gonna let me put a baby inside of you, huh?”

You can’t think straight anymore. You nod weakly, it’s all you can do now. He hooks his arm under your knee, his other hand still grabbing you by the chin. His penetrating gaze fixed on you.

“Gotta be as deep as possible, baby. Gotta make sure it takes.”

“Channie,” you cry out.

“Look at me,” he begs, sending you’re about to finish as well. “Look at me when I fill you up with my cum, baby.”

When he finishes inside of you, his grip on your chin tightens but not as much as to hurt you, just to keep your head in place as his eyes stare into your soul. He looks ethereal - plump lips parted as a series of whimpers falls from his mouth. He looks into your eyes as he cums, cock buried deep inside your walls, filling you up with his warmth, which pushes you off the edge as well as you cum around him with a loud whine. His body collapses on yours, completely spent.

“Mine,” he mumbles pecking your cheek and nuzzling it. You play with his soft hair, now a bit damp and sticky with sweat. “You’re mine, yeah?”

“I’m yours.”

─── ⋆⋅♡ ⋅⋆ ──

-> reblog if you like my works. feedback is everything to me and motivates me to write more!

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formula-nyoom · 1 day

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Grid Kids

Summary: Charles' "adoption" of Oscar leaves you and Logan wanting your own grid dads that are currently on the grid.

A/N: I speed ran this one so it may seem a bit rushed. Also “niño” is meant to be gender neutral, you're just supposed to default to the masculine form.

While the term “grid kid” is usually used for the kids brought in to stand with the drivers during the national anthem, it has become a term used throughout the paddock for the younger drivers who have seemingly been “adopted” by older, usually retired, drivers. It’s just something the fans like to joke about, not expecting the drivers to acknowledge the term or relationships.

Except the drivers were 100% aware of it.

And Oscar asking Charles to be adopted sparked something amongst two of his fellow drivers.

“You’re collecting grid dads like Logan. First Webber, and now Charles. And Charles comes with two other siblings. You’ve got a whole grid family.” You said to the papaya clad driver as you, him, and Logan walked through the Monaco paddock.

“What are you on about?” Logan asked. “I’m not collecting grid dads and Oscar’s only doing it to get more home races which is kinda ridiculous.”

“You guys are just jealous that Charles said yes.” Oscar said. “You two both have two grid dads. Why are you bothered that I have two now as well?”

“Because we race against Charles almost every weekend. Which means you get to see your grid dad every race weekend. Logan’s able to see Jenson every race weekend because he commentates, but Nico doesn’t come to every race. And I only get to see Seb once a season and that already happened in Imola.”

“What about Räikkönen? Hasn’t he gone to a couple of your races?” Logan asked.

“That was only in F3 when he was still racing for Sauber. He hasn’t been back since.” You said, pouting.

“In my defense, I didn’t think Charles would actually offer to adopt me. But hey, I’ll gladly accept it if it means I get another home race.” Oscar said.

“If Logan and I manage to get a driver to adopt both of us, we’ll still have more home races than you.” You said.

“I’d like to see you guys try.” Oscar said. Logan turned to you.

“Maybe we can ask Charles to adopt us?” Logan said.

“No, he’s my grid dad. Go find your own current driver to adopt you.” Oscar said before starting to walk away.

“Where are you going?” You asked as the Aussie was walking away.

“To go meet my new little brother Leo!” Oscar said. “I’ll send you guys lots of pictures.”

You huffed in frustration as you and Logan watched Oscar walk away.

“If Lewis adopted me, do you think I’d be able to consider Rosco my brother?” You asked Logan.

“It’s possible. Speaking of grid dads, you want to go photobomb Jenson while he’s doing interviews for SkySports?”

“Oh absolutely.”

~~~

It seemed the media thought Charles’s recent adoption of Oscar was humorous enough to be brought up during the driver’s press conference. One interview had asked Charles about it as he sat on the couch with Logan, Alex, George, and Zhou.

“I think I’m the only driver to have adopted another driver while on the grid.” Charles said.

“I don’t think that’s true.” George said. The interviewer and Charles turned to him.

“Why do you think that George?”

“Well me and Alex have practically adopted Logan. I’d say he’s actually been my grid kid since I started mentoring him in F3.” George said. Logan sat up a bit straighter and peaked his head out from Alex, who was sandwiched between the Brit and the American.

“Would you actually adopt me if I asked? So I can one up Oscar?” Logan asked George. A cheeky grin appeared on George’s face

“Absolutely! Scratch what I said about practically-Logan is now mine and Alex’s adopted son.” George said, earning a laugh from the various reporters and a smile from Logan.

“Shouldn’t I get a say on whether we agree to adopt my teammate?” Alex asked as he looked between George and Logan. George patted Alex’s shoulder.

“I know you would say yes either way.” George said. Alex reluctantly nodded his head.

“Yea you’re right.”

“I fear what I may have started.” Charles said, earning more laughs from around the room.

~~~

“How come you get to have two grid dads from the current grid?” Oscar asked Logan as the three of you stood around the paddock before Free Practice.

“Cuz I’m just better.” Logan said. You lightly punched his shoulder while Oscar rolled his eyes.

“This is so unfair.” You said.

“Why don’t you just go ask Max to adopt you so you don’t feel left out.” Oscar said.

“Are you kidding? I’m still intimidated by him.” You said. “I’d rather ask someone who’s approachable.”

While the three of you were talking, your eyes landed on Fernando, who was walking back to the Aston Martin garage and an idea popped into your head.

“Hey Fernando!” You called to the Aston Martin driver and jogged over to him.

“Hey (Y/N). What can I do for you?”

“Um, I don’t know if you heard about Charles adopting Oscar…” Fernando let out a chuckle.

“I did. I also heard about Sargent apparently getting adopted by Russel and Albon.”

“Yea. Me and Logan got kinda jealous of Oscar since his grid dads are always at the races so we may have been going around seeing if we could get adopted as well…” You told the older driver. “This isn’t meant to be taken seriously but…would you adopt me? As your grid kid? Oscar and Logan already have grid dads and I’m feeling left out”

Fernando smiled and patted your shoulder.

“Of course niño. I missed out on the opportunity to mentor a younger driver like Webber and Vettel, so I’ll happily consider you my grid kid.” Fernando said. You smiled.

“Yes! Thanks dad!” You said before jogging back over to Logan and Oscar.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Oscar said.

“I think I win in terms of grid dads.” You told them.

“It wasn’t a competition.” Logan said.

“But if it was, I think I would win by having three former world champions as my “adoptive” fathers.” You said. Logan and Oscar rolled their eyes.

The little “adoption” scheme had soon spiraled to the point where even the official Formula One broadcast was getting in on the joke. To you and Logan, it seemed like a miracle that you and him managed to join Oscar at the top 3 of Free Practice 3. What made the moment even better was the graphic that was displayed during the broadcast that sent various social media platforms into chaos.

Oscar Piastri-Leclerc

(Y/N) (L/N)-Alonso

Logan Sargent-Russel-Albon

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #logan sargent x reader #oscar piastri x reader #fernando alonso x reader

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leahwllmsn · 2 days

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so high school | alexia putellas x reader

You know two things about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is the school’s football captain and troublemaker. From showing up late to most of her classes, to getting caught smoking under the bleachers—usually when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, it’s not anything good.

That’s why the second thing you know about Alexia Putellas is that you have to stay far, far away from her.

You are the picture perfect high school student. Straight A’s, president of the student council, president of the debate team, all the teachers love you, and all the students envy you. That’s why you promised yourself that you’ll never associate yourself with someone like Alexia Putellas.

It worked out well for years. You’ve been in the same school ever since you were kids but you have never said as much as a ‘hello’ to the brunette.

You’re happy about that.

Staying as far away as possible from Alexia Putellas means you will never get in trouble.

So with the years of experience of avoiding Alexia Putellas, you don't know how you get to this point. Maybe the universe wants to teach you a lesson, maybe the universe just doesn't like you, or maybe you have simply run out of luck. Because one moment you're taking down notes and the next, your history teacher has paired you up with the person you swear you’ll never interact with.

When class is over and everyone rushes out, you go up to the teacher because this is unfair, Alexia Putellas isn’t even in class today. And when he answers your complaints with a shrug and a tone so final that you know he won’t change his mind, you know you’re screwed.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me neither,” your best friend sighs, unwrapping her lunch. “Can’t believe Ona is sick today and I have to put up with your ass alone.”

You roll your eyes. You’re sitting at your usual table at the cafeteria, the spot where Ona usually sits empty. “You would be nicer to me if you knew what just happened to me.”

“Did you get detention?”

“As if,” you scoff. “Now that I think about it, this is worse.”

Aitana turns to look at you, eyebrow raising in question. “What could be worse than that in your standards?”

“This stupid history project.”

“You calling an assignment stupid? That’s a first.”

You let out a sigh, placing your head on the table. “It’s because I got paired up with Alexia Putellas.”

“No way.”

You don't have to look at Aitana to know that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You grunt in reply, your friends always seem to make fun of you every time you’re miserable about something.

“You know, y/n,” Aitana nudges you, causing you to lift your head. “She’s actually not that bad.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Obviously,” Aitana looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “She’s captain of the football team. I’m on the football team. Or did you forget?”

“Right,” you grimace as you remember that Alexia Putellas is Aitana’s captain. “Wait, but you’re actually friends with her outside of the field?” You shudder at the thought.

Aitana rolls her eyes. “You sound so dramatic right now.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re friends with Alexia Putellas.”

“Stop saying her name like that,” Aitana laughs. “Sure, she brings trouble wherever she goes, but she’s not as bad as people made her out to be. And she’s a fantastic footballer.”

“She’s bad news,” you cross your arms. “Do you remember that time when she showed up to school one morning with her face so bruised up, all we could see were bandages?”

“Yeah,” Aitana says casually, taking a bite out of her lunch. “She got into a fight with someone from the men’s team.”

“Exactly!” you slap Aitana’s arm repeatedly. “She started a fight with the captain of the football team. She’s insane.”

“Men’s football team,” Aitana corrects your statement. “And was it the captain? I swore I remember it being that good-for-nothing defender. Anyway, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

You shrug. “She’s still bad news.”

“And she’s also your history project partner,” Aitana grins at you. “I have her number if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sigh, once again placing your head on the table. “I’ll go look for her after school.”

“Cheer up, grumpy. I have a feeling you’ll like her.”

You scoff. “I think you’re way off, but sure.”

tana: oni, first day without you here and y/n is a grumpy mess

y/n: I’m in pain. Stfu.

oni: what’d I miss

tana: y/n’s on her way to talk to alexia

oni: ????

y/n: It’s not what you think.

y/n: I have to talk to her about our history project.

oni: ...goodluck?

y/n: Thanks, I need it.

tana: vry dramatic

You have never imagined yourself to be where you are right now. Everyone knows that under the bleachers is the spot where people go when they want to do things that they don’t want the teachers to see—like smoking, or maybe making out with someone. Or other things, you don't really know, because you have never been here.

And you won’t ever step foot in here if it’s not because of Alexia Putellas.

The second you step under the bleachers, the faint smell of smoke wafts up your nose and you have to blink back a couple of times because it’s not as bright as you expected. You figure it’s probably because it’s going to rain soon.

As you takes more steps forward, you realize that no one was there and that maybe you should’ve accepted Aitana’s offer of Alexia Putellas’ number.

You sigh and pull out your phone from the pocket of your jeans. You’re about to press the call button on Aitana’s contact when a voice startles you.

“Looking for me?”

You turn around and standing in front of you is the person you’ve been looking for.

(And you don't know why but the sight of Alexia Putellas in her leather jacket and messy brown hair is making your heart beat faster than it should.)

“I am.” you reply, walking towards her.

“The y/n l/n is looking for me? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

(You hate the way Alexia Putellas’ smirk doesn’t do anything to calm your racing heart.)

��You weren’t in history class today,” you cross your arms. “Why?”

“So you’re worried about me.”

“Why would I be?” you narrow your eyes at the brunette. “We’re partners for a project.”

“Cool.”

You want to scream at how frustrated you are at this whole thing. Alexia Putellas doesn’t care about her grades, she has proven that many times when teachers have always used her as an example of having multiple failing grades. You wonder if they’d expel her if she isn’t the superstar captain of the women’s football team.

“Look,” you rub your temple. “I’m not thrilled about this either—”

“Who says I’m not thrilled?”

“You’re Alexia Putellas, I highly doubt you’d be thrilled about an assignment.”

“Maybe for once I’m thrilled because I have you as a partner.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “As I was saying, you probably don’t want to do this, right? Which is fine, because what I’ll do is that I’ll get it done and I’ll still put in your name.”

Alexia gives you a confused look. “So you’ll do all the work?”

“Exactly. We don’t have to interact at all, problem solved.”

“You don’t want to hang with me?” Alexia pouts. “I’m sad, y/n.”

And you’re starting to feel the heat rising to your cheeks—no, it's not because of the pout on Alexia Putellas’ face showing just how plump her lips are and it's definitely not because of the sudden thought that flashes in your mind about how those lips would feel on your own. No, you will argue that it's not because of all that. It’s because it has started raining and it’s making it even stuffier under the bleachers.

“I’m going to leave now,” you announce. “It was good to talk to you.”

When you walk past her, you don’t expect her to grab you by the wrist (and you don’t expect Alexia Putellas’ touch to be so gentle).

“Wait,” Alexia starts. “We’re partners, right? I should at least contribute to something.”

You look down at your wrist, still seeing Alexia’s hand around it. “Uhm, I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Alexia lets go of her hold (and you would be lying if you say you don't feel the slight disappointment creeping in). “It’s not because of that,” Alexia clarifies. “I just want to do it.”

You still look unconvinced and Alexia must’ve noticed too, because she rolls her eyes and murmurs, “Is my reputation really that bad that me wanting to participate in my own assignment is such a surprise?”

“Yes? It’s a two-month long project. Even I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Alexia ignores your answer and proceeds to pull out her phone. She unlocks it and hands it to you.

You look at her questioningly and Alexia sighs. “Put your number in.”

“My number?”

“How should we contact each other about the project?”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Alexia’s face. She looks determined and it’s weird to you because you figure she would just accept your offer of doing all the work for her. “You’re serious about this.”

“Just put your number and we’ll figure a schedule out.”

You’re still looking at Alexia skeptically but slowly reaches out to take the phone and put your number in nonetheless.

And when you see that her phone wallpaper is a picture of her smiling (adorably) at the camera next to her dog, you don’t think that’s how a troublemaker should look like. You wonder just how much you know about Alexia Putellas.

Their first meeting doesn’t go well—you expected this.

You agreed to meet at the library after school the next day and you have been sitting there, waiting for an hour until you decide to give up because stupid Alexia Putellas is nowhere to be found. You are so pissed.

You get up and slings your backpack over your shoulder. You make it to the parking lot and are about to unlock your car when you hear a voice call out to you.

“y/n!”

You don't have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to. It’s the same voice you heard yesterday under the bleachers (and the voice that somehow made it to your dream last night, but you will never admit this).

You ignore the calls and keep on walking. You’re a few steps away from your car when suddenly Alexia catches up to you and jumps in front of you, making you jump slightly and halting your steps.

“Hey.” Alexia says, trying to catch her breath.

You cross your arms, scowling at her. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Ten minutes is late, an hour just means you never wanted to come in the first place.”

Alexia winces. “I do want to come, I swear. I overslept.”

You look unamused. “It’s 3 p.m.”

“I know,” Alexia flashes a sheepish smile. “I decided to take a nap while I wait for your debate thing to end, but I overslept.”

And you would have never believed that excuse if it’s not for the groggy voice and the pillow face she’s wearing. So you just sigh and motion for her to follow you as you walk towards the bleachers because that’s the only place you could think of going since the library is closing soon.

“I really am sorry for making you wait.”

You’re sitting at the top of the bleachers, you at the tallest step with your laptop on your lap and Alexia looking up at you from one step below.

“It’s fine,” your replies were short. You’re still a little bit annoyed at the whole situation. If you could’ve picked a partner for history class, it would be Ona. Ona will never be late and Ona will never annoy you this much.

But the way that Alexia keeps on apologizing every few minutes and looking away with a pout on her face when you don't respond, you’re also sure that Ona will never make your heart flutter the way it does around Alexia Putellas—and you don’t want to think of what this could mean.

After an hour of sitting uncomfortably under the hot sun, you figure out another thing about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is incredibly smart and you’re surprised at how eloquent she is when she lists down everything she knows about the history of Catalonia.

“You fail almost all your classes.” you speak up.

“Yes,” Alexia nods. “What does that have to do with anything I just said?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to say all that.”

Alexia grins at her. “Do you like surprises, y/n?”

“Uhm, I guess.” you stare back at her confused.

Alexia hums. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep on surprising you.”

You don't respond because you don’t know how to. So you focus your attention back to your laptop and try your best to type something down in order to take your mind off how Alexia Putellas is doing something to you and you’re not sure if it's a good thing or not.

Your next meeting starts off well. Alexia is early, you walk into the library to find the brunette already there, her usual leather jacket folded on the chair next to her.

It’s a week after your first meeting and you will never admit it, but you have been looking forward to this day for the whole week.

(It’s because you just want to get this project done, you would convince yourself.)

(Not because in the classes you have with Alexia, she always sits at the back when you sit at the front, so you never really get to see her.)

(No, it’s not because of this.)

“Hi, boss,” Alexia smiles at you. “I didn’t oversleep today.”

“That’s good to hear,” you say, sitting down and opening your bag to take out your laptop.

“I know you’re proud of me.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “Where do you even take your naps?”

“Under the bleachers.”

“Seriously?” you raise your eyebrows. “That must be uncomfortable.”

Alexia shrugs. “There’s a bed.”

“I’m sorry—what?”

“There’s this small mattress. I don’t know who it belongs to or why it’s there, but it’s there.”

You nod, a confused expression still on your face. “I see.”

“I can take you there sometime.”

You don't know if Alexia meant it in a flirty way, but judging by the smirk on her face, she did. So you just roll your eyes and type in the password to your laptop. “You should take me out to dinner first.”

“Okay, I will.” Alexia says it so nonchalantly and you wonder if Alexia’s stomach is filling up with butterflies too.

It’s not until the third meeting that you start to text each other with stuff unrelated to the project.

ale: did u know that chipmunks have 4 toes on their back paws but 5 toes on their front ones

y/n: No?

ale: well now u do :-)

y/n: Did you know that you look like you’re part of the chipmunk family?

ale: ???

ale: heeey

y/n: What’s up?

ale: nothin, just thinking about u

y/n: Why

ale: just because

y/n: Are you expecting me to say that I’m thinking about you too?

ale: you are? :D

y/n: No.

ale: whatever ;(

y/n: Why was the chipmunk late for work?

ale: did I miss a conversation somewhere

y/n: Because traffic was nuts.

ale: …

ale: I love it

And it’s not until the fifth meeting that you realize another thing about Alexia Putellas, and that is: Alexia Putellas makes you smile a lot.

You wonder what people think about when the stupid smile on your face appears every time you receive a text from her. Even Ona and Aitana have been pestering you non-stop about it and you’re running out of excuses as to why with every notification you receive, your lips seem to curve upwards automatically.

ale: u look beautiful

y/n: ?

ale: just stating what I see

y/n: Smooth talker. You’re not even here.

ale: I am, on ur right

y/n: Oh wow.

y/n: Aren’t you always out smoking under the bleachers during lunch?

ale: you pay attention :D

You stop once you read Alexia’s text because you do pay attention.

Suddenly, you can’t count on your fingers anymore about how many things you know about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia has a ‘resting bitch face’, that's one of the reasons why people are scared of her. She never smiles when she walks down the hallway, her face barely shows any emotion.

Alexia likes to intimidate people, she does that when people stare at her too long and she glares at them in return. And when they scurry away, she would smile in amusement.

Alexia likes to get into trouble, it’s like she purposely wants to get into trouble with how she picks a fight with someone every week and how she always talks back to the teacher.

Alexia Putellas is exactly how people paint her out to be—a reckless troublemaker who doesn’t care about anything and is always angry at the world about something.

But at the same time, you know that's not everything about her.

You know that Alexia is ridiculously talented at football. You’ve come to their matches enough to figure out that every time she touches the ball, it’s magic. You were there in support of Aitana and Ona, obviously. Not Alexia. (But your YouTube history being full of Alexia’s games may be because you were interested in staring at her. Not that you would admit it).

You know that Alexia is warm and gentle and she has different types of smiles. Alexia has a small smile every time she locks eyes with you in the hallways. Alexia has that smile that reaches her eyes when she laughs at something you say even though you’re pretty sure it’s not even that funny. Alexia has a wistful smile every time the day ends and you leave in your car and she leaves in hers.

You know that Alexia taps her foot repeatedly when she’s focusing on doing something. You know that Alexia has the attention span of a five year old because every five minutes, she would whine about how she’s hungry or how she’s getting tired of the library.

You know that Alexia is funny and she makes you laugh so much that you have lost track on how many times the librarian has told you to keep it down.

You know that Alexia is sweet and charming and she says things that make you want to run home and hide because your cheeks would always redden up.

You know that you like seeing a smile on Alexia’s face a thousand times more than the scowl she’s known to have.

ale: hey? why are u spacing out

And even though you feel that you now know everything about Alexia, you realize that you still don't know one thing about her.

You don’t know why Alexia is so different when she’s around you.

You are a problem-solver. That is one of the reasons why you’re such a good student—once you encounter a problem, you immediately think of ways to figure it out and most of the time, it’ll only take you a couple of hours to do so.

And so, you are baffled at how you still can’t figure out the mystery of Alexia Putellas.

You’ve spent most of your time together wondering why Alexia seems to smile more when you’re there or why no one but you sees the sparkle in Alexia’s eyes that is brighter than any stars out there, but the answer seems to never come to you.

So when your project has finally ended and you would no longer have your weekly meetings at the library, you should’ve noticed the dejected look on Alexia’s face and that should’ve given you a clue to the answer you have been so desperately searching for.

But apparently you’re not that smart after all, because once your last meeting ends, you bid Alexia goodbye and go home to spend the rest of your day watching Netflix.

And when Alexia doesn’t text you at night like she usually would, you don't think much of it and let yourself sleep instead.

You don't see Alexia the following week. She’s not in the cafeteria, or in the hallways, or even in the classes you share once you look to the back of the classroom where she usually sits.

Alexia doesn’t text you either and you know you should’ve text her first, but you figure Alexia is just busy so you don’t reach out.

And when you don't see Alexia in school for another week but Aitana and Ona see her at practice, you realize that Alexia has been avoiding you.

You have never been good with feelings. Especially if it involves someone who you have swore you would stay far, far away from.

So you have been ignoring all these feelings inside of you, ignoring the way your heart speeds up at the mention of Alexia, ignoring how your dreams are now filled with Alexia’s sweet face.

But it’s reached a point where you can’t ignore it anymore because the ache in your heart after not having heard from Alexia in weeks was getting bigger and bigger.

It’s that yearning in your chest that causes you to walk to Alexia’s spot under the bleachers in hopes that she’s there. And when you see her leaning against a pole, one hand in the pocket of her leather jacket and the other holding a cigarette, you finally admit that you might be in love with Alexia Putellas.

“Hi.”

You could see Alexia slightly jump in surprise at your voice. She turns around and her eyes widen when they lock with yours.

“y/n.” Alexia says, her tone clearly showing that she’s not expecting to see you.

“Are you avoiding me?” you jump straight to the point.

“What? No. No?” Alexia stammers, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. “What makes you think so?”

You simply scoff and step closer to her. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I know, you have straight A’s.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you glare at her. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

When Alexia doesn’t reply, you add in a whisper, “I miss you.”

Alexia still isn’t replying, she just keeps on staring at you with a look that you can’t comprehend.

A second later, when Alexia reaches forward and pulls your face towards her and you can taste the smoke on Alexia’s lips, you realize that the answer you’ve been searching for seems to be simpler than you anticipated.

Now you don’t remember why you promised yourself to stay as far away as possible from Alexia. And you don't know how you could be happy about never having spoken to Alexia before.

Because with the way Alexia picks you up in the classes you don’t have together just to walk you to your next class and the way Alexia always waits up for your debate club to end before driving you home, you can list down a hundred more reasons why you should always stay near to Alexia.

Because Alexia feels like sunshine and Alexia makes you feel like you’re always walking on clouds.

Now when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, you knows it’s everything good in the world all at once.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso community #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas imagine

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norr1ssturni0lo · 3 days

Text

meet my girlfriend

Matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2,294

warnings: couple spelling mistakes, a couple swear words, lots of fluff (a bit cheesy😅), italics = flashbacks

summary: Matt and childhood friend Y/N announce their relationship on his personal channel.

A/N: Matt is 18 in this fic and reader is 17 as said in fic!

❗️semi proof read❗️

Matt sets up the camera on the dashboard, his best friend of 12 years and girlfriend of 2 years in the car seat next to him. Matt hears Y/N let out a sigh, he looked to his side and saw Y/N looking nervous.

“It’ll be fine my love. The fans already love you, announcing that you're my girlfriend won’t change that, I promise.” Matt says, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles in a comforting manner. “We don’t have to tell the fans if you don’t want to darling. It’s completely up to you.” He added on as he lifts her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“No, I want to do it. Just some silly nerves that’s all.” She replied, intertwining their hands and smiling at Matt.

“You ready?” He asks.

“Yeah, press record.”

Matt hits record and started to talk to the camera, his hand still intertwined with Y/N’s.

“Hey guys, welcome to my personal channel, where I will be posting content without Nick and Chris. I won’t post as often on here, but I will try my best.” Matt starts with a little laugh before continuing.

“For my first video on this channel, as you could probably guess by the title, I’m going to introduce you to my girlfriend, she’s a girl that many of you will be familiar with and if not then she’s about to introduce herself.” He added on, Matt gestures for Y/N to introduce herself, she gives a little wave and smile to the camera.

“Hi everyone, most of you already know me but for those of you who don’t, hi, my name is Y/N and as Matt said, I am his girlfriend. I’m 17 years old, unfortunately I’m still in high school unlike Matthew here” she points to Matt and he lets out a little laugh at her dislike for high school before she carried on introducing herself.

“I just started my senior year, and like the triplets, I am from originally from Boston and I have known the triplets since I was in second grade and they were in third grade I think, is that right?” She looked over to Matt for confirmation to which he nodded.

“Yep. She’s been in our lives since we were 8 and she was 7. She’s known us longer than Trevor!” He jokes, the couple chuckled together at his random fact.

“Anyway, today, in honour of announcing our relationship, we’ve decided to answer some questions. I posted a question box on my Instagram story and we’re just going to scroll through and answer some of them.” Matt states.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up Instagram and clicked on his story to see the questions. He read out the first question.

“Okay, first question is ‘how did you guys meet?’ you wanna answer it Y/N/N?” she nodded before answering.

“So, I actually met Nick first out of the triplets, mine and Nick’s science classes got merged one day because my teacher was sick and me and Nick got paired for a project together. Me and Nick became friends and one day he invited me to his house after school, and that’s how I met Matt and Chris, and we were all inseparable ever since. I constantly got them mixed up until they were about 14.” she replies, Matt and Y/N both smiling at the memory of how many times she got the triplets mixed up. Matt handed his phone to Y/N to read out the next question.

“Okay next question is ‘who made the first move?’ Matt surprisingly, made the first move, I’ll let him tell the story of how it happened.”

“So, it’s a pretty cliche story, but we were at a party for our high school’s sports teams and cheerleaders which we both had to be at since she’s a cheerleader and I was on the lacrosse team. Me, Chris, Nick, Y/N and a few other people were playing spin the bottle and it was my turn to spin and it landed on Y/N. At this point I’d had a crush on Y/N since we were in middle school, but I just never ‘had the balls to do anything about it’ as Chris would always say to me.” He rolls his eyes, remembering all the times Chris had tried to get Matt to tell Y/N how he felt. He carried on telling the story.

“So obviously, me and Y/N kissed and then the day after at school, I left a note in her locker asking her out on a date, obviously, she said yes to the date and low and behold, 2 years later, here we are. Pretty cheesy but, hey, what can you do about a man in love?” He shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk on his face.

“Fun fact, I still have the note to this day.” Y/N stated proudly, looking at the camera. Matt looked over at her shocked.

“You do?” He asked, looking at his girl in pure adoration. She looked at Matt and nodded her head, smiling at him. She handed him his phone back so he could read the next question.

“Okay, next question ‘what are you lockscreens on your phones? and what is the story behind them if there is one’”

Y/N pulled out her own phone and Matt locked his so that he was ready to show his lockscreen. She turned her phone around and showed her lockscreen. (a/n: pretend it’s Matt😭)

“Mine is a picture of Matt from a couple weeks ago. Me and the triplets went to the safari park, and I got this picture of Matt looking at the map and trying to figure out where one of the rides were and thought it was cute.” she smiled at her lockscreen before turning off her phone.

*flashback to safari park*

Y/N giggled as Matt looked at the map in his hands, confusion evident on his face. The four of them were stood in the middle of the path, Matt trying to figure out how to get to the log flume.

“Matt c’mon mannnn” Chris complained. Nick rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

“Baby, do you need help?” Y/N asked. Matt shook his head.

“Really? Cause you’ve been looking at the map longer than Nick was looking at the elephants.” she chuckled, and Chris laughed along with her, Nick had spent ten minutes staring at the elephants earlier that day. She walked over to him and looked at the map, trying to help him.

“I got it, I got it, gimme a second.” Matt said. Another minute passed of Matt looking at the map, looking adorably confused with a little smile on his face, Y/N thought he looked absolutely adorable and quickly took a picture before Matt laughed to himself and smiled as he looked at his brothers and girlfriend.

“I got it! It’s this way.” he pointed in the direction of the log flume, and they all made their way to the ride.

*end of flashback*

Matt turned on his phone and showed his lockscreen to the camera. (a/n: again, pretend it’s y/n and Matt😭)

“Mine is a picture that Nick took of us in the car about a month or so ago. We were going on our annual family trip and as always, Y/N came along with us, and we were parked at the gas station and I noticed Y/N had fell asleep on me and Nick saw and took a picture of us and sent it to me and it’s one of my favourite photos ever” Matt spoke.

*flashback to the family trip*

Y/N and Matt were currently sat in the very back on the car with Nick. Chris, Trevor and Justin sat in front of them, and Marylou and Jimmy were sat in the front seats. They were parked at a gas station filling up the car and Y/N was falling asleep with her head in Matt’s lap, sharing headphones with him and Nick was sat on his phone.

“You tired baby?” Matt whispered, looking down at the sleepy girl in his lap. She let out an incoherent mumbled reply.

“Look at this TikTok!” Chris said loudly, turning around to face Matt and Nick. Matt shushed him.

“Y/N’s asleep Chris be quiet!”

“Shit! sorry, look at this TikTok though” Chris repeated, much quieter. The boys collectively laughed quietly at the TikTok he’d shown them, Chris turned back around and showed Justin the same TikTok.

Matt moved a piece of hair out of Y/N’s face, smiling at his sleeping girl. Matt was unaware of Nick looking at the couple with a soft smile of his own on his face, he’d always been their biggest supporter ever since they told him about their relationship. Nick quickly opened his camera on his phone and snapped a picture of the couple and immediately sent it to Matt, the younger brother opened the message and a grin automatically grew on his face.

“Thanks man, I love this photo” Matt spoke as he set the picture as his wallpaper and sending it to Y/N, so she also had a copy of the photo. Nick smiled.

“Of course, I’m your personal photographer.” He joked and the brothers softly laughed before going back to doing their own thing waiting for Jimmy to get back in the car after filling it up.

*end of flashback*

Y/N put her phone back in her pocket and Matt passed her his phone to read the next question.

“Aww this one is cute ‘what is your favourite memory with one another?’ I love this question” she smiled.

“my favourite memory with Matt is probably last Christmas when Matt woke me up around 4 in the morning because it was snowing so much and he just couldn’t wait to go build a snowman, this kid literally had a jacket and coat and my shoes ready for me and just woke me up.” They both started laughing at the memory from last Christmas and Matt hit his head on the steering wheel as he leaned forward laughing, causing Y/N to laugh even more as Matt held his head in his hand.

“Laughing at my pain, I see how it is missy.” Matt exclaimed, he reached over the center console of his car and started tickling her sides causing the younger girl to yelp out and tears started streaming down her face as he continued to tickle her.

“Okay I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Y/N shouted, out of breath, softly chuckling as she held her hands up in surrender. She passed Matt’s phone back to him.

The couple continued to answer questions and laugh with each other replaying memories from as early as their childhood to as recent as last week.

“Okay, final question, this was asked by quite a few people ‘what is your favourite thing about each other?’ We’ll do one physical aspect and then one personality trait, okay?” Matt spoke and Y/N nodded in agreement before Matt continued.

“My favourite physical thing about Y/N has gotta be her freckles, I’ll admit that I have caught myself counting the freckles on her face before while she’s been asleep” he admitted with a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“My favourite thing about her personality wise is how persistent she is. I’ve seen her get into heated debates with Nick over the most random things and most of the time she’ll win, and I could honestly sit there for hours watching them argue back and forth, it’s so funny” Matt adds with a laugh and he smiles in Y/N’s direction.

“It’s true, I’ll never let up if I think my opinion is right.” She said laughing with him. “Anyway, my favourite physical thing about Matt is probably his smile, his has got to be my favourite smile ever!” She said proudly, the blue eyed boy next to her stared at her with a soft expression and a wide smile on his face as she carried on talking.

“My favourite personality trait of Matt’s is how attentive and kind hearted he is, like I remember before he made this channel, we were sat on the couch together and he said he wanted to make this channel to help people who may be struggling with mental health like him and to make it a safe space for everyone. And he’s just such a genuinely great guy and nowadays, that’s pretty hard to come by and I couldn’t be more thankful for him. I can confidently say, I can see Matt being the guy I marry when I’m older.” she finished talking. He smiled at her for what felt like the millionth time this video, his cheeks started to hurt from how much she made him smile.

“I love you baby” Matt spoke, planting a kiss on her cheek, her cheeks flushed.

“I love you too Matt. So much.” She replied, smiling at the boy she’d been in love with for as long as she could remember.

“I hope you enjoyed this video guys, we both enjoyed filming it. We love you. Stay happy and stay smiling.” Matt smiled at the camera and Y/N blew a kiss to the camera before he stopped recording. He put the camera down and looked over to Y/N

“Did you mean that baby? About me being the guy you’d marry?” He asked her, his eyes full of love. She nodded with a smile on her face.

“Of course, my love. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. You’re my person” she replied.

He stretched over the center console and placed a kiss on her lips, both of them smiling into the kiss.

“You’re my person too darling. I’ll marry you one day I promise.”

And he did.

They got married a few years later.

A/N: Lowkey was inspired by @imwetforyourmom one shot that was like this. Hope you don’t mind me stealing your idea ahah🫶🏻😅

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pinkflower2003 · 2 days

Text

Summertime on the farm

Daniel Ricciardo x Clarkson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Clarkson & her father, Jeremy, celebrate the release of the new series of their Amazon series, Clarkson’s Farm. Going to the Grand Prix, Y/N meets an unexpected fan in Daniel Ricciardo, who had been on her father’s show previously.

a/n - this is my first time doing a social media one so bare with me whilst i get use to this! this came into my head whilst watching danny’s top gear interview! there is some spelling and word mistakes but this is not proofread!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

@Y/NClarkson Posted!

liked by amazonprime, jeremyclarkson1 & 225,568 others.

Y/NClarkson: that’s a wrap for Clarkson’s farm S3! Thank you for everyone who watches, comes to the shop and supports us bunch of idiots (as well as buying shitty beer that explodes🙄)

tagged: jeremyclarkson1, amazonprime, cooper_kaleb, thetallirish

8,507 comments

amazonprime: our favourite tractor driver 🙌🏼

→ cooper_kaleb: don’t make me laugh, half the season is her crashing the tractors.

→ Y/NClarkson: kaleb, don’t be jealous, just because my tractor is cooler than yours.

→ jeremyclarkson1: the lambo tractor is better than both of yours, don’t be stupid.

jeremyclarkson1: still don’t forgive you for crashing my lambo tractor.

→ Y/NClarkson: i literally crashed once, where is all this crashing information coming from???

→ cooper_kaleb: cctv

→ Y/NClarkson: oh shit, lol oops

→ username1: LMAO I LOVE HER

→ username59: her level of chaotic & sarcasm is what i aspire to be.

F1: looking forward to another season y/n, think you should come down to try and drive a car instead of a tractor😉

→ username43: UM?? girl what are you doing here??

→ y/nclarkson: get the redbull contract ready, i’ll be there

→ jeremyclarkson1: um hello? my invite? i literally host a car show.

→ y/nclarkson: you couldn’t fit in one of the cars mate, not drinking all that exploding beer.

→ jeremyclarkson1: fuck off

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@Y/NClarkson posted on her story!

liked by: F1, redbullracing, Jeremyclarkson1, danielricciardo and 298,412 others

Y/NClarkson: what a day! catching up with old friends and sipping champagne. Move over farm life, think being a F1 driver is the life for me😎

Cooper_Kaleb: thank god, i’ve been trying to get you fired for years.

→ y/nclarkson: wtf, you can’t fire me. you’d be lost without me?? you can’t anyway, only dad can🤪

→ jeremyclarkson1: you’re fired.

→ y/nclarkson: what the fuck, stop ganging up on me.

→ username67: i love their dynamic so much🥲

Username134: UM?? Y/N AND DANIEL?? ON THE FIRST SLIDE?? i smell something brewing.

Username46: wait they actually make a cute couple

Username89: she looks amazing!

DanielRicciardo: was good to see you again Y/N! So excited to see the new series - will have to come to the farm shop next time i’m in England.

→ y/nclarkson: please do! let me know when and i’ll show you around!😊

→ landonorris: where is my invite?? do i mean nothing to you??

→ y/nclarkson: not really, no.

→ landonorris: ma heart, ma feelings 💔

→ georgerussell63: wait i wanna come too.

→ Oscarpistari: me three

→ y/nclarkson: F1 day out?

→ danielricciardo: what?? no?? that’s not what i meant, i meant ME going to the farm, no one else.

→ georgerussell: boo, you whore.

Username657: LOL WHAT IS HAPPENING?? THE F1 BOYS ARE OFF TO DIDDLY SQUAT?? CAN THIS BE IN AN EPISODE?

Username98: daniel wants to go there alone…alone for a date?

jeremyclarkson1: it’s my farm, not y/n’s?

→ y/nclarkson: you’re like on the brink of death, it’ll be mine soon lol

→ jeremyclarkson1: i’m literally 64?

→ y/nclarkson: exactly

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

@Danielricciardo posted!

Liked by: Y/NClarkson, LandoNorris, Cooper_Kaleb and 897,357 others

Danielricciardo: summertime in the country🤍

Username80: UM IS THAT Y/N CLARKSON?? AS IN QUEEN OF CHIPPING NORTON?

Landonorris: i think my invitation got lost in the post

→ danielricciardo: it did not.

Username6: ARE WE GONNA GET A DANIEL CAMEO ON CLARKSON FARM?

y/nclarkson: chipping norton’s newest tractor driver🚜 Kaleb is getting replaced asap

→ cooper_kaleb: you’re literally fired

→ y/nclarkson: i will run you over with a tractor

MaxVerstappen1: you never told me you were spending summer with a girl?? does our friendship mean anything??

→ danielricciardo: if i told you, you’d of told the others and then it would have been like a school trip out.

→ georgerussell63: hey! no it wouldn’t, we just wanna meet y/n since you won’t stop going on about her.

comment liked by @y/nclarkson

→ username1: EXPOSED

y/nclarkson: you’re the cutest<3

comment liked by @danielricciardo

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

@Y/NClarkson posted!

Liked by Danielricciardo, amazonprime, Landonorris and 560,895 others.

y/nclarkson: summertime lovin

tagged: danielricciardo

danielricciardo: 💛

jeremyclarkson1: get back to work

→ y/nclarkson: i literally was up at the crack of dawn feeding, i could hear you snoring from outside

→ jeremyclarkson1: that was lisa not be

→ thetallirish: you lying fuck

Oscarpiastri: does this mean you’ll be back at races now?? i miss you

→ landonorris: me too

→ georgerussell63: me three

→ alexalbon: me four

→ maxverstappen1: me five

→ y/nclarkson: i literally haven’t met half of you drivers

→ danielricciardo: welcome to the shit show

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #danny ric #daniel ricciardo #smau #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula 1

396 notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 5 hours

Text

home hero - charles x reader

gif by @princemick <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Monaco is Charles' home. Growing up, he had watched the Grand Prix from the balconies and rooftops, dreaming of the day he would stand atop the podium. Each year, the pressure mounted as he came so close, only to have victory slip through his fingers.

Today felt different. There was a determined glint in his eye this morning as he kissed you goodbye and headed to the track. You could tell he was ready, more focused than ever before. You had to believe this was his year.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, leaning against the kitchen counter asyou watched him get everything he needed before heading out.

"More than usual," he admitted, flashing you a quick smile,"But I feel good. I have a good feeling about today."

"You’ve got this, Charles. I believe in you," you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you," he hugged you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head.

"You'd still be amazing," you said, looking up at him,"But I'm glad I get to be here with you."

You arrived at the circuit, the familiar roar of engines filling your ears as you made your way to the paddock. You found your usual spot in the Ferrari garage, the team bustling around with last-minute preparations. You exchanged nervous smiles with the crew, all of you hoping for the same outcome.

You watched as Charles went through his pre-race routine, meticulously checking everything himself even though he trusted his team completely. He looked up at you and smiled, his nervous eyes softening the moment they landed on you.

"Hey, come here," he called softly, waving you over.

You walked over, taking his gloved hand in yours. "You’re going to do great, you know that, right?"

"I just," he sighed, "Really want that win, you know? Not just for me, but for my family, my friends, for us," you smiled fondly at his words, "This is my home and everyone believes in me, I don't want to keep letting them down."

"Charles, you've never let anyone down," you squeezed his hand, "You've given everything you have, every time and that's why everyone believes in you. No matter what happens today, you're already a champion in our eyes."

"You're too sweet," he teased with a small smile, pecking your lips quickly, "I need to go. I'll see you after the race."

"Be safe out there," you said, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You watched as he made his way to the car, taking a deep breath before climbing in. The race was about to begin, and the anticipation was palpable. You found your seat in the garage, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding with every lap.

As the race progressed, it was clear that Charles was driving with everything he had. Lap after lap, he maintained his position and defended his lead against the competition.

With only a few laps to go, the tension in the garage was at an all-time high. You could barely breathe, every fiber of your being focused on Charles and the car.

And then, it happened. Charles crossed the finish line and the checkered flag was waved, securing his first win at the Monaco Grand Prix. The garage erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face.

He did it. He actually did it.

Before you even knew what was happening, you ran to the pit wall, heart soaring with pride as you watched Charles climb out of the car, his face a mixture of disbelief and pure elation. He waved to the crowd, taking in the moment before making his way over to the barrier, his eyes searching for you.

You pushed through the crowd, your heart racing as you made your way to him. When he finally saw you, his face lit up with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

"Charles!" you called out, your voice cracking with emotion.

"We did it!" he shouted, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, his voice full of joy and relief.

"You did it," you corrected, laughing through your tears. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said, pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck! I can't believe this is real."

You kissed him, a sweet and lingering kiss that held all the words you couldn't say in that moment. When you pulled back, you saw the love and gratitude in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with even more pride.

"Now go stand on top of the podium, you deserve it."

The celebrations were in full swing as it was time for the podium. Charles was greeted with cheers and applause from the team, his family, and the fans who had supported him through thick and thin. The Monegasque flag waving proudly above him.

The national anthem played, and you watched as tears of pride and joy rolled down Charles' cheeks. This was the moment he had dreamed of, the moment he worked so hard for. And now, it was finally here.

326 notes · View notes

headspace-hotel · 3 days

Text

I hate a lot of trends in climate-change-aware nature writing, but this is one I particularly detest: works insisting that we live in a "post-natural" world.

The lostness, bewilderment, aching, and searching in this piece is understood by the author to be an all-consuming and universal dysphoria, when it is actually a highly specific predicament that the author put himself into: He tried to understand the universe exclusively through the point of view of white people.

I mean that Purdy takes the colonizer point of view without realizing that it is a colonizer point of view. He thinks the colonizer point of view is a universal document of the authentic, naive encounter of "humanity" with "nature," instead of burning wreckage left over from the apocalyptic destruction of a rainbow of ideas and cultures.

It feels weird to be talking about this as a white person, but it shouldn't, any more than it should feel weird to say (as a white person) that aliens didn't build the pyramids.

Very little of what he's writing about would exist or make sense without European colonization of the world. Purdy constantly says "we" and "our" in reference to things that are very restricted to a particular cultural point of view, as if totally oblivious to the idea that other cultures and other perspectives even exist. When he searches for historical references to chart "human" relationship with nature, history goes like this: Pre-Christian religion in the British Isles->British monarchy-> George Washington-> Industrial Revolution->Thoreau.

He manages to repeatedly stumble over giant hunks of colonialism embedded in every concept he's thinking about, like boulders obstructing a pathway, and pretends so hard that they don't exist that his points are janky and meandering. For example, his discussion of Helen Macdonald's book H for Hawk, touching upon human identification with the landscape and with non-human "nature," blunders into this:

Those who love (certain parts of) nature are often making a point of preferring it to (certain kinds of) human beings. The problem is not only literary. Macdonald describes an encounter with a retired couple who join her in admiring a valley full of deer, then remark how good it is to see “a real bit of Old England still left, despite all these immigrants coming in.” She does not reply, but is miserable afterward. The meaning of landscapes is always someone’s meaning in particular. Confronted with all of this, Macdonald tries to shake off the complicities of her own identification with the terrain: “I wish that we would not fight for landscapes that remind us of who we think we are. I wish we would fight, instead, for landscapes buzzing and glowing with life in all its variousness.” The alternative that Macdonald wishes for is, of course, not an escape from political-cultural projection onto landscape, but another approach to that same practice — really, the only one a 21st-century cosmopolitan is likely to feel comfortable embracing.

AND THEN HE JUST SEGUES INTO THE NEXT POINT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. Like don't worry about it :) We will simply project onto landscapes in a non-racist way :) because we aren't racist anymore in the 21st century :)

The next book he discusses is Landmarks by Robert MacFarlane, which is basically about how the vocabulary of landscape in English is sterilized and monoculturized, and contrasts that with Scots Gaelic. This is how Purdy explains the thesis of the book:

Our sense of what lies outside ourselves has been blunted by “capital, apathy, and urbanization” — enemies likely to draw a range of friends, from cultural Marxists to Little Englanders to those who would like to see a bit more effort, please. But behind this scholarly sketch, Macfarlane’s work is testament to a pretheoretical obsession with unfamiliar ways of encountering places. We disenchanted and distracted (post)moderns describe terrain, he complains, in terms of “large, generic units” such as “field,” “hill,” “valley,” and “wood." (...) Many people who have lived intimately with landscapes have had words for nuances of form, texture, and use. Macfarlane’s purpose in Landmarksis to gather these words as proof of how precisely it is possible to name a place, and so, perforce, to know it.

Why is Gaelic endangered? Because of an effort to extinguish its speakers' culture. This article I found on it talks about the history of the language's decline, and it's strikingly similar to what happened to indigenous people in the Americas and Australia, with children being put in schools where they were beaten with sticks for speaking their native language.

This whole essay is about Purdy's general disappointment with nature writing, his craving for an ineffable Something, some sort of magical, primitive identification with the natural world. In the very first paragraph he claims that the pictures of animals on nursery walls are "totemic" and quotes a guy saying that zoos are an "epitaph" to the relationship between people and animals. It's never very clear what he means, but he uses the term "animism" repeatedly, such as when he says this about MacFarlane's goal in writing Landmarks:

His quarry is an animistic sense that Barry Lopez once identified in “the moment when the thing — the hill, the tarn . . . ceases to be a thing, and becomes something that knows we are there."

Given that ambition, Landmarks, which Macfarlane calls a “counter-desecration phrasebook,” can be disappointingly thin as a lexicon. Too many of the terms are simply dialect or Gaelic for some generic form, such as “slope,” “hilltop,” “stream,” or “tuft of grass.” The effect is less pointing out how many things there are to see than cataloguing how many names there are for the same thing.

This is Purdy missing the point, perfectly crystallized as though frozen in amber. He is oblivious to the clear subtext of a language showing a culture's connection to its home, and of the violence against that culture. The Gaelic language doesn't make him feel primal and mystical the way he wants it to, therefore it doesn't mean anything to him. MacFarlane doesn't make him feel a magic animistic connection to nature, therefore his book must have failed at its task.

Who gives a shit? Gaelic isn't FOR you.

He discusses another book about a guy that hikes a bunch of Cherokee trails, but I don't know what to say about that one, observing it through the sludge of the reviewer's unwillingness to recognize that historical context exists. He summarizes his disappointment in a confusing way, using the Gaelic language as a symbol for an obscure and inaccessible place where the answer to your personal emotional cravings lives (???) Then he talks about a kind of epistemicide, or extinction of knowing, of nature, but again, totally oblivious to any relationship to colonization.

Every inhabited continent has been denuded of ecosystems and species. Most North American places have shed wolves, elk, moose, brown bears, panthers, bison, and a variety of fish and wild plants, which were all abundant four hundred years ago.

Wow, I wonder what happened four hundred years ago?

This writing acts like the dominant Eurocentric attitude towards the world is universal, but the author is haunted by this nameless specter of the possibility of a different way of thinking, which he treats as some kind of mystical, primordial state hidden in the past instead of just a different cultural perspective.

Not only does he not recognize that his own cultural perspective of Nature is dysfunctional and unsatisfying because it was created by exploitation and genocide of other cultures and their symbiotic relationships, he acts like other perspectives don't exist. Take his perspective on forests and the mycorrhizal network:

Wohlleben’s emphasis on interdependence and mutual aid is part of a recent tendency to recast nature in an egalitarian fashion — as cooperative, nonindividualist, and, often enough, hybrid and queer, in contrast to the oaks of generals and kings. Nature does answer faithfully to the imaginative imperatives and limitations of its observers, so it was inevitable that after centuries of viewing forests as kingdoms, then as factories (and, along the way, as cathedrals for Romantic sentiment), the 21st century would discover a networked information system under the leaves and humus, what Wohlleben calls, with an impressive lack of embarrassment, a “wood wide web.”

Listen, I don't think this is accurate to how Europeans thought of forests throughout time, let alone "humanity" in general. The emphasis of power and competition in ecosystems emerged after Darwin, in collusion with capitalism and "race science." Trees have been symbols of life, wisdom and selflessness, and regarded as sacred or even sentient, for centuries before that. But on top of that, this is just blatantly pretending that only white people's ideas count as ideas.

It's the same dreck as all the other "literary" writing about climate change: self-pityingly and unproductively mourning "Nature" and a fantasized "wild" state of the Earth, ignoring colonialism, treating human influence of any kind on other life forms as something that either destroys them or makes them soft and "tame."

I'm tired of reading nature writing from people that obviously do not go outside, or if they do, they do it in such a suffocatingly regimented, goal-oriented way that they can't just sit outside and relax.

Maybe I shouldn't be such a hater if I want to do nature writing. But my love of nature is WHY I am a hater.

#nature #ecosystem #climate change #the ways of the plants #goes under #doomerism

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yelsapo · 2 days

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I honestly think this episode was meant to be confusing in a sort of Alice-in-Wonderland-ish way, where the loose ends won't/aren't meant to be tied up later. It's confusing and random, but that's the point.

Kate tells Ruby, "It's what we all do. We see something inexplicable and invent the rules to make it work."

And I think that might be exactly what Ruby does. Stick with me PLEASE

The premise of the episode opens with a superstition: a fairy circle. Something surrounded by stories and myths that don't necessarily make sense, and yet many people form their entire lifestyles around these belief systems because they explain the unexplainable for them.

The woman that follows Ruby appears to chase people away from her, or convince them to abandon her, which is clearly a common theme within Ruby as a character. She's afraid of being abandoned.

Typically breaking a superstition means that you're going to suffer some sort of misfortune as a result, right? If you were to break a superstition that you believed in (ie. ruining a fairy circle), what misfortune would you fear most happening to you? For Ruby, it probably centers around her fear of abandonment.

We know that Ruby is supernatural in some way. She's definitely not a typical human. She can make it snow on command? Who's to say that the "silly little explanations" that she makes up to make sense of her unknown don't ACTUALLY come to fruition. What if she has the power to do that?

So, let start from the beginning. Ruby and the Doctor break a fairy circle, an action which culturally means bad luck. In Ruby's mind, her worst luck would be to be abandoned by everyone, and to never find her birth mother in the end. And that's exactly what happens.

Roger Ap William is a name mentioned by the Doctor in the first couple of minutes of 73 yards. The only information that is given is that he was evil, welsh, and almost brought the world to nuclear destruction. That's all Ruby knows. Mad Jack appears at first to be some arbitrary name Ruby reads on a piece of paper, but is later revealed to literally be Roger Ap William? How coincidental is that? I don't think that Roger and Mad Jack are actually the same person. In fact, Mad Jack probably WAS just someone's dog. They were just two names that Ruby had recently heard, and then drew an imaginary line between. To further the point, Roger is SUCH a caricature. His only three personality traits are quite literally evil, welsh, and likes nukes, which is all the Ruby knew about him.

Throughout the episode Ruby finds herself in a situation that doesn't make sense, so she comes up with her own explanations to make them make sense. She invents her own rules and her own mission. She comes up with a string of tasks that aren't logical to us, but it's the explanation she has come up with given the information that she had. She's convinced herself that it makes sense. She starts to form her lifestyle around a belief system that she created because it explains the supernatural she is experiencing.

And because of whatever supernatural abilities surround her, she's actually making her percepetion of reality the REAL reality.

(Edit: Not to mention that superstitions have been a common theme this season (ie. 14 invoking that salt superstition in WBY kicked off this season's entire plot) AND WBY is the first case in which we see Susan Twist as well...

It all leads back to that moment.)

#or maybe im inventing the rules to make it work in my mind #sorry if this makes no sense #doctor who #73 yards #ncuti gatwa #ruby sunday #15th doctor #dw spoilers

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loveinhawkins · 1 day

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ao3

Eddie falls asleep in the back of the RV. Steve watches it happen in stages, after the stop at The War Zone—driving a little further out for a food shop, away from prying eyes.

He announces that the coast is clear when the roads become reassuringly empty. For the first time in days, he relaxes into the rhythm of driving: he’s triple-checked that no-one’s tailing them, and if it weren’t for the hastily bought weapons, he could almost pretend that…

He glances at the rearview mirror, sensing movement. It’s Eddie, standing up from where he’d been huddled against the back of Steve’s seat. He looks like he’s relishing the freedom to stretch his legs—Steve thinks, with a pang, that he’s probably sick of hiding—and takes his time on his way to the back seat.

Keeps his balance for the most part, only stumbles once, briefly latches onto Robin’s shoulder with a sheepish smile, says something like, “Role reversal, Buckley,” and she laughs.

He settles with the kids in the back. Clearly tries to give them the most space, folding his legs awkwardly in the corner almost like he’s already back to hiding again, but they won’t let him; Dustin wiggles along to create more room, and Erica pins Eddie with a look—the most Steve can make out is, “You look like a…”, but whatever she says makes Eddie snort, then smile with obvious affection.

The next time Steve looks to find Eddie’s reflection, he’s relaxed into his seat, legs stretched out in front, the edge of one sneaker bouncing up and down absent-mindedly—but growing slower and slower.

He’s talking to Lucas, the speech drowned out by the RV engine; Steve can still see how it makes Lucas relax in turn, even giggle, which has been an all too rare occurrence lately. How Max, despite carrying the heaviness of the Walkman, looks on with a spark in her eyes.

If Steve had to guess, he’d say that Eddie doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the motion of the RV or the angle of the sun through the windows. Maybe it’s just that he finally feels safe.

Either way, his blinks get longer and longer, and then he’s drifted off, out completely, and Steve watches with something close to pride as the kids all get off the bench in silent agreement—Max confidently lifting Eddie’s legs and swinging them up onto the cushions like it’s second nature. He barely stirs, head nodding a little until he’s lying down properly.

Steve splits the last of his cash with Nancy on the food. They make a trio with Robin for heading to the store, the kids on what they’ve dubbed ‘Eddie watch’ and what Steve has dubbed, “Yeah, I’ve left it running—that still means no driving unless, like—actually no, I’m not even gonna—yeah, Dustin, I’ll get you more Pringles, Jesus Christ.”

And because he’s weak, he still ends up caving to Max’s loophole that yes, if demodogs and/or bats and/or people that just look at them funny show up, she’s got permission to floor it; he’s not gonna tell her he’d scoped the place out well before he’d parked.

Ten minutes later, laden with bags, Nancy says, “We could use somewhere with more space. For…”

She indicates the supplies of a more grim variety than snacks.

Steve thinks about it, then exhales with a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere.”

Robin eyes him curiously. It’s like she’s heard through the laugh, can somehow feel the thing that wells up in the back of his throat—only for a second; he’s used to pushing it back.

She squeezes his shoulder. He pats the back of her hand before driving away. Sometimes words spill out between them, ever flowing. Sometimes they don’t need words at all.

There’s a strange kind of thrill in feeling the tires go right over the grass. Feels bigger than what it is—like something’s finally been unearthed.

They’re all quiet as the group starts to filter outside. Steve looks over his shoulder: Eddie is still fast asleep. His lips move every so often, drowsy half-formed words.

Steve wonders what he’s dreaming about. He hopes it’s something good.

He lets everyone go in front of him—Robin snatches a bag of food out of Dustin’s hands, whispering fondly, “That one’s mine, you animal.”

Nancy hesitates just outside, then turns back into the RV to sit on the step.

“It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side with meaning. “I don’t think he should wake up alone, you know?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, me too.”

And that’s how they end up sat together, half in the RV and half outside. Nancy dangles her feet above the grass—she could reach it, of course, but it seems deliberate, like she’s enjoying the breeze.

Or trying to, at any rate: there’s still a restlessness to her, an anxious pinch to her face, like she’s one step away from jumping to her feet and—

Steve squeezes her knee—hears the way she exhales, like she’s finally caught her breath.

“Food first,” Steve says gently.

She nods belatedly, like the words take a little while longer to reach her. “Food first.” She rustles through one of the bags, brings out something wrapped in foil. “Robin said this is for you…?”

Steve chuckles. It’s a sesame bagel: bacon, egg, and cheese.

He gives half to Nancy.

They eat in companionable silence—just listening to the breeze and the occasional shout of laughter: Robin’s formed a circle with everyone up ahead, a chaotic game of duck, duck, goose, which is a ridiculous choice because her run is ridiculous, and Steve feels his cheeks ache with a smile at the grass stains already on her shirt, as Dustin and Lucas pull her down in some kind of duck-goose uprising, and Max gets Erica up on her shoulders, joining the fray; and underneath it all, he can hear Eddie hum slightly in his sleep, but it’s not a noise of distress—like he knows subconsciously that he isn’t alone.

“Here,” Nancy says.

When Steve turns to her, she’s got a packet of chips open between them. Salt and vinegar.

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but—

“You remembered,” he says through a rush of affection; it hits him square in the chest.

Nancy smiles. “Can never forget you and Mike fighting for the last packet.”

Steve knocks their knees together. “Yeah, he fought dirty.”

They laugh together, hushed but heartfelt.

There’s a streak of ketchup across Nancy’s face that she hasn’t bothered wiping away. She looks years younger somehow—looks lighter, like the food in her stomach has settled something intangible.

Her smile turns even softer, thoughtful, and warmth settles behind Steve’s eyes.

I’m sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what…

You never deserved to hurt.

“Did you get changed in the dark?” Nancy says, eyes bright with mirth.

It’s so sudden that it startles Steve right out of his thoughts, a welling emotion halted.

“Excuse me, Nancy Wheeler?” he says with a faint grin.

“Steve Harrington,” Nancy returns teasingly. She ruffles a hand through the back of his hair with easy affection, “There. That’s more like it.”

“Am I presentable now?”

“Oh, you’ll do.”

She rests her chin in her hand, just considers him—but it’s a gentle kind of look. Almost like they’re back in English class, and he’s just answered a question without stumbling over his interpretation, and he glances across to her desk, finds her watching him with pride.

“You suited the denim,” she says sincerely. Mimes how he’d shrugged into Eddie’s vest.

Steve feels touched in a way that he can’t fully place, like she’s said something else. Maybe she has.

“Thanks,” he says.

They both look over to the field at a cry of victory. Dustin’s found the stash of 3 Musketeers, holding it aloft like he’s just won a science trophy.

“Hey,” Nancy calls, laughing, “at least one of those is mine!”

Steve can feel her shift, about to stand, and impulsively, he says, “Nance, wait.”

She’s stood already in the split second it took for him to speak, but she turns back.

Steve stands up. Hugs her.

He tries to put all he doesn’t know how to say into it; he does his best, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. Thinks of how he swept her into an embrace next to the school lockers, her surprised shout of laughter, if you can be this for her, she’ll be happy, you’ll be…

And maybe she’s heard some of it, because her hold tightens around him, like she’s saying, you never deserved any of it, either.

She pulls back. Claps his shoulders to make him sit back down, and they both giggle slightly, both vulnerable. Nancy’s eyes are shining at the corners. But Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears.

He feels them, too.

Nancy nods, smiling wide, blinking in quick succession before the moment’s gone.

He nods back.

And then she’s running over to Dustin, and it almost looks like she’s flying, like she’s sixteen years old again, and nothing ever…

Steve has to close his eyes for just a second. Breathes through it.

Minutes pass before he catches a change in Eddie’s breathing—hears him shift and sigh as he stretches.

Steve tilts backwards, just enough to see Eddie slowly drifting awake on the bench.

“Hey,” Steve says as soft as he can, so Eddie can go back to sleep if he wants; so it can just be part of a dream.

For a moment, it looks like that’s exactly what Eddie will do. But then his eyes find Steve’s, and they light up in recognition.

And he smiles. Sits up.

“Shit, did I really…?” The rest of the question’s lost to a yawn, and he stretches again, rubs a hand across his face to wake himself up.

“Yup,” Steve says. There’s one last bag by his feet, which he picks up to put in Eddie’s view. “This has got your name on it, man.”

Eddie sits down next to him. Steve shifts closer as he hands the bag over, feels the gentle press of Eddie against his side, the warmth left over from sleep.

Eddie whistles at the assortment of food. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah, no—like, thank Dustin, not me.”

Dustin had rattled off a list of Eddie’s favourites—“Actual food this time, Dustin, he’s not surviving on just cereal, it’s depressing,”—which Steve had written hastily on the back of his hand.

He knows that Eddie’s seen the evidence of the list on his skin, faded as it is from the dying pen he’d used, because he smiles when he says, “Mm-hmm, I will,” like they’re sharing a secret; and then he looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun with a hand over his eyes, barks a laugh. “Besides, he looks kinda busy, uh… I don’t actually know what he’s doing. Killing Buckley, maybe?”

Robin’s joking yell punctuates Eddie’s words; it looks like she’s somehow recruited Lucas over to her side, because Dustin’s trying to flatten the pair of them; Erica’s got Dustin’s thinking cap on backwards, while Max shouts, “That’s a foul!”; Nancy’s sat crosslegged, eating candy and throwing out words of amused encouragement.

Eddie chuckles so fondly. He eats some of his share, then sighs with contentment. He stands but doesn’t go far at all, drifts over to a patch of ground like he’s drawn to it. Sits down. Runs his hands through the blades of grass and flowers, even the weeds; it makes Steve smile.

He follows.

They sit close to each other almost like they’re still sharing the step, even though there’s more than enough room to…

Eddie keeps watching the roughhousing. His eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks… happy.

He sighs again, leaning back a little, “This is nice. Who’s idea was it to come here?”

“Nancy’s, really,” Steve says.

But he can tell that Eddie notices the evasion—there’s a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrow as he listens. He’s getting almost scarily good at it, Steve thinks, but it’s not done in an intimidating way; it’s not like Eddie wants to catch him out in something. It’s more like he… just wants to know. Like he cares.

“But you knew a spot?” Eddie prompts.

“Yeah, I…”

Steve could still avoid it—could just say carelessly, ‘cause we drove past it, duh, and Eddie would let it drop, he knows he would. But…

“I came here when I was a kid. Like, years ago. It was summer, and I think the car broke down or something? So we had to wait for…” Steve shrugs, but it’s just movement for the sake of it, trying to conceal the way his throat’s tightening in slow increments. “It was… I liked it,” he adds. Nods towards the kids. “I thought they might like it, too.” He tries to laugh, “Guess that’s kinda stupid to—”

“I think it’s sweet,” Eddie interrupts firmly. “This place, it’s…” He smiles at Max’s squeal, Lucas lifting her up in a bridal carry. “It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tries to smile, because it is perfect, but that suddenly makes it hurt all the more. He’s gripped by a fierce, desperate urge to seize the weapons and burn them, to just let everyone fucking rest, to tell them they don’t have to do it anymore, they never have to—

“Steve,” Eddie says, soft, dismayed—sitting up and touching Steve’s hand where it rests in the grass, so delicately, so kind—

Steve swallows; he must not have pushed it all back in time. He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, but he can guess, can feel the telltale burn in his eyes—and wavers on the brink. Almost falls. But he catches himself, only just, and when he’s forced to quickly swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, he reasons that it’s okay. Only Eddie can see.

Still, he should—

“Sorry,” he waves a hand, tries to laugh at himself again, “just ignore me.”

When Eddie smiles, it looks as if he’s only doing it because he’s taking his lead from Steve. His eyes speak for him—like he’s thinking, you’re breaking my heart.

“Ignore you? Shit, man, that’s hard. Have you seen you?”

It’s said with a ridiculous amount of theatrics—so obviously done to lift Steve’s mood. But there’s a note of sincerity that Steve can hear above everything; Eddie isn’t hiding it.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to, either.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.”

He expects Eddie to laugh. And though he does, it’s quieter than he’d expected, and he says, “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He’s looking at the kids as he speaks. “They’ll be okay, you know.” He doesn’t say it like a platitude. He says it like a promise. “Wheeler, Buckley… me. We have them, too.”

And Steve doesn’t know how Eddie could ever accuse himself of cowardice. God, if you could only hear yourself, he thinks.

“I don’t want—I know. I know you do. I just—just wish—”

His voice fails him.

Eddie tilts his hand, palm up. Steve could act like he’d never seen it all. It’d be easy.

He takes Eddie’s hand. Breathes, and tries again.

“I just wish we didn’t have to—”

It’s as far as he can manage.

Eddie squeezes his hand. Murmurs, very gently, like a memory, “And so do all who live to see such times.”

Steve doesn’t need to ask. He can feel the weight of it through the words alone. Focuses on Eddie’s touch, the way his fingertips brush against Steve’s knuckles, over and over.

And then Steve lets go, but not before squeezing Eddie’s hand in return. Twice. He doesn’t know Morse code, but he hopes he’s understood.

He watches the kids play again. Glances over to the side when he feels another touch, Eddie’s shoulder briefly skimming his. This time he can tell it’s accidental; Eddie’s swaying a little where he sits.

“Shit, sorry. It’s the sun, it’s,” he yawns, “it’s making me…”

Steve’s reminded of the boathouse; of Eddie’s sunken face at Skull Rock.

“You’re just exhausted, Eddie,” he says.

He stands, briefly places his hands on Eddie’s forearms, tries to shield him from the worst of the vertigo. He feels Eddie jump beneath his touch, a forcible jolt back from the edge of sleep. Visceral.

Steve’s chest hurts.

“Wait there,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Hey, try to not fall asleep just yet, ‘kay?”

“M’not,” Eddie says, not very convincingly.

When Steve returns with a pillow from the RV, Eddie is lying in the grass, flat on his back. One hand floats in front of his face, fingers curling like he’s playing guitar chords—like he’s doing it to keep himself awake.

“Dude, that can’t be comfortable,” Steve says. He bends down, taps Eddie on the forehead, which makes Eddie blink slowly, looking at him upside down. “Can I…?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says softly. It sounds like I trust you.

Gently, Steve cups the back of Eddie’s head, moves it up ever so slightly and puts the pillow in between him and the ground. Eddie settles onto it with a sigh.

Steve moves away, sits back down; Eddie turns to lie on his side, facing him. His cheek presses into the pillow, one leg bending a little, like this is how he lies in bed; there’s a fragile vulnerability to the sight.

The sun draws attention to the grass in his hair. The slightest trace of freckles underneath his eyes; they’ll come out more in summer, Steve finds himself thinking. He wants to be there to see it.

It was summer when he first thought a boy was pretty. That day the car broke down, but his dad was laughing, making the most of it; he’d walked and walked to buy ice-cream and returned victorious to the field, where Steve was waiting with his mom.

They weren’t the only families there—the spot had been much busier years ago: people using it as a pit stop on road trips, Hawkins locals mixed in with folks from out of town, so it felt like the whole world was to be found here, stretching out before them in the grass.

Steve had seen the boy playing tag—it was over in barely a flash, but he still remembers how he held his breath when their eyes met, without understanding why.

He’s pretty, he’d thought, it was the only word he had for it—an instinct from his mom teaching him words, bouncing him on her hip, oh, Steve, look at the pretty flowers.

He’d known even then it was a thought he couldn’t share—like how a child comes to know that they’re not to touch a hot stove.

He’s pretty.

Steve could tell himself that he doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. But it would be a lie.

Eddie’s tugging idly at the grass, but his hand keeps going slack, twitching with oncoming sleep.

“You know how t’whistle with ‘em?” he asks clumsily.

His eyes are closed. Steve stills his hand, slips a blade of grass out from his loose hold.

“No,” he says, drags it through his teeth like he’ll miraculously make it whistle just by doing that.

Nothing happens, of course; the grass tastes just a little sweet on his tongue. He takes it out from in between his lips and lets it go, to be lost on the wind.

When the taste dissipates, he misses it.

“Yeah, me neither,” Eddie says, amused. His voice is lilting with exhaustion. “My uncle tried to teach me once, but I couldn’t… maybe ‘cause… still had some of my baby teeth… maybe that makes it harder?”

“Maybe,” Steve agrees quietly. He picks some grass out of Eddie’s hair, as lightly as he can. “I’ll ask him for some tips.”

Eddie smiles at that. “He’ll like you,” he says.

He’s half-asleep, Steve reminds himself. He hardly knows what he’s saying.

But he can’t help feeling pleased at the thought.

“Oh, yeah? You think so?”

“Mm-hmm. He likes…” Eddie yawns. “Likes everyone I like. And I… I really like you.”

It’s said so easily. Like it’s simple.

Maybe it could be. Just this once.

Steve feels emotion creeping up his throat, resting heavy on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t push it back; he speaks through it.

“I really like you, too,” he whispers.

Eddie hums sweetly, like he’s heard even when almost all the way to dreaming. “Think there’s a trick to it,” he mumbles, and Steve realises he’s talking about whistling again, lost to a childhood memory.

Stay there, Eddie. Rest.

“A trick?” Steve says in hushed tones.

“Yeah, I… remember he’d… he’d say…”

Eddie falls asleep mid-sentence.

Steve watches him. Angles his shoulder to create shade, shielding him from the sun.

He looks over at the kids: they’re playing tag with Robin now, Nancy joining in—a little quieter, like maybe they’d seen…

If he unfocuses his eyes just slightly, he can almost see his dad coming over the hill with the tubs of ice-cream. His mom smiling, sunburn on her shoulder, and Steve hit with a wave of inexplicable sadness, like he already knew, she’ll never be this happy again.

Eddie sighs in his sleep.

Steve feels a subtle change in the sun on his skin, the afternoon dying.

Stay, he thinks. Mouths it with childish hope, stay, like he’s still the boy who fell asleep right here, in between his parents, wanting the day to stretch on and on—the one who couldn’t outrun the feeling, even then, that he was coming to the end of something.

#do you ever think about just how much Steve loves them all #gay steve harrington #implicit but it’s there #steve harrington fic #pre steddie #steddie fic #steve and nancy #steve and the party #eddie and the party #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve x eddie #steve and his parents

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waltricia · 2 days

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Regardless of whether anyone actually reads this, I need to show appreciation for the writing, blocking, and editing of the last scene of 3x03, “Forces of Nature.”

Recently, I noticed that the LW line “this author is captivated” was very specifically placed over a shot of Colin and I knew it was intentionally done to convey the double meaning of the narration being about her and him.

Since then, I’ve realized that the same thing is happening throughout that entire LW narration. And it is fucking BRILLIANT.

So, first of all, this is the transcript of the narration:

“This author believes that all of man’s greatest inventions are nothing more than a distraction from what is most natural to us. Our instincts. The innate animal impulse that is inside even the most sophisticated of us. For when all is said and done, our nature will always win out. It seems Lord Debling’s instinct has led this man of nature to the most surprising pick of the season in Miss Penelope Featherington. Suffice it to say, this author is captivated. For in the battle between man and nature, it is quite clear that the battle is in fact between man and himself.”

Now I’m going to break it down with captioned stills so that you can see which words line up with which frames and I’ll explain what I believe it all means.

“This author” - When it’s first said, it’s on Pen. The second time it’s on Colin. I think there are several meanings here. Firstly, she’s Whistledown and she’s published. He will be, assuming he publishes his travel journals or whatever. Secondly, I think it highlights how they will be united, in the Whistledown storyline along with everything else. There’s a third meaning, but I’m going to get back to it later, once we get to the second use of “this author.”

This is the Innovations Ball, so on the surface, LW is speaking about man-made technology versus the natural world. But with the introduction of “man,” the shot immediately cuts to Colin, so the second layer of the narration is about him. All of Colin’s invented personality traits are a cover, hiding his true self- his sensitivity and his feelings for Pen. Obviously, this echoes what she wrote about him in 3x01, but it’s different. The context is the same, but this time, she’s not speaking directly about him, and really, she may very well not be thinking about him at all in writing it. After all, she still doesn’t know about his feelings for her. But we know. And the feeling of what she’s saying this time is less jarring; more, fittingly, natural. Because he’s starting to confront all of it as well.

In this shot, Colin has been walking across the room to get to Pen. There were people on his right, obstructing his view of her, but as LW says “natural,” Colin passes those people and, though we cannot yet see Pen, we can tell from Colin’s face that he finally clearly can. She is what is most natural to him.

He comes up to her and says that he has a question for her. The narration starts again. But on this shot, it’s only the one word, “our.” Aside from this just being romantic, I think it highlights that the narration is about both of them. But I also think that it’s not just about them. It feels to me as if, metaphorically, it’s written by both of them. Hence, my emphasis on the importance of “this author.”

We cut to our first close-up of Colin in this particular intimate sequence of close-ups. And we’re really in his perspective now, as he’s struggling to manage his feelings.

Again, he had been masking, trying to be like the other “sophisticated” gentlemen.

But a shift is occurring within him.

And this where I really hope there is at least one other person out there paying attention because all of the elements are coming together to tell us something incredible here. We have our beloved Julie Andrews delivering the line with a profound heaviness. We have Kris Bowers’ “Call Me Simon” coming to a close, sounding like a clock striking midnight. And we have the decisive sentiment of the words themselves. I'm convinced that the words “done” and “win out” being said on Pen speak to the finality of Colin’s feelings. If there was uncertainty before, it is gone now and there is no turning back. He is in love with Pen.

But before Colin can say anything else, Debling steps in and takes Pen away to dance.

Side note: Amazingly, I can back up my theory with this shot and another one of my theories:

I had said, when the trailer came out, that when true red shows up behind Colin, that indicates his love for Pen. This is the first time we see that happen.

But anyway, back to Whistledown…

Debling is the literal “man of nature,” while Colin is the metaphoric “man of nature.” Both have picked Pen.

We’ve finally come to the second “this author” and here’s the third thing I wanted to say about it: Possibly my favorite thing about this sequence, is that it acts as a vehicle for the representation of the Polin role reversal. From one end of the Whistledown narration to the other, Pen and Colin literally and metaphorically switch places, seamlessly. They exchange their physical places in the room. She’s the wallflower, then he’s the wallflower. She’s the author, then he’s the author. In a metaphorical sense, they’re both writing this Whistledown piece. This whole sequence serves to show us how Colin and Pen have really been equal this whole time. They’re just star-crossed. It’s like what Luke has been saying in interviews, Colin and Pen keep missing each other. They have brief moments where they eclipse each other and then they slip right past until the next time they orbit around to each other again.

Ok, here’s the final stretch, and it is a fucking fascinating maneuver:

The battle isn’t between Colin and Debling. In fact, Debling doesn’t signify at all here. I’d say there are actually three other battles being referenced: Colin and himself, Pen and herself, and Colin and Pen. The first “man” of that sentence is said on Colin, while “nature” is said on Pen. So in the battle between Colin and Pen- for there is a battle, as Cressida will mention in 3x04 when she says “Eros and Psyche, battling it out”, and also there will be more blatant battling in part 2- the real battles Colin and Pen are facing are the ones within themselves.

Of course I’ve already written about Colin’s battle with himself.

The reference to Pen’s battle with herself is particularly interesting to me. At first, I didn’t see it and I didn’t understand why that bit of the narration was spoken over the Pen and Debling dance instead of over Colin. Then I realized that the second “man” of that sentence is said directly on top of this shot where, again, it’s not about Debling; it’s her face we’re seeing. Then, Debling spins her and the “himself” is on Pen too. And I know I’m right about this because the shot was in the trailer and I watched it so many times. And I noticed that Sam Phillips is very specifically looking away from the camera in this moment. I figured it was because we had to know that the moment was about her. And I was right.

Pen’s journey is her reconciliation with herself. Colin and Pen really have the same inner battles. They both need to drop their masks. That’s why the mirror scene is going to be so important- it’s about exposing and embracing the bare parts of both of them. They are already equal and united. They just need to see it.

Ok that’s it. I’m done. I got it out. And I literally can’t add any more images to this post. To anyone who will have read this fuckin novel I just wrote, thanks for sticking around. These ballroom sequences are particularly difficult for the cast and crew to do, and there is obviously so much complexity in this one, so I feel like it should all be acknowledged. Someone has to acknowledge it, and if that has to be me, I will gladly continue using up my Friday afternoons to do so.

To the cast and crew, to the captain of the season 3 ship, Jess Brownell, to the director, Andrew Ahn, and writer, Eli Wilson Pelton, to everyone’s favorite choreographer/movement director, Jack Murphy, to Luke, Nic, and Julie fuckin Andrews, I see you and I love you. Please keep doing what you’re doing. It’s all worth it. ♥️

#my obsession with this show and specifically this episode is unlike anything i’ve ever experienced before #forces of nature #innovations ball #hawkins ball #polin #lady whistledown #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #netflix #andrew ahn #jack murphy #jess brownell #eli wilson pelton #obsessive bridgerton things #bridgerton analysis

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mopopshop · 3 days

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could u please write an angsty emily hc like what would happen if they fought they and stuff? perfectly fine if nottt 🫶🫶

WILDFLOWER

Part 2 <- here

The ride home was silent, confusingly so. You and Emily had just left a mutual friend’s birthday party, you assumed that the both of you had a good time but the lack of interaction from Emily had you doubting that.

She’d rushed the two of you out of the party, barely said anything on the walk to the car, and slammed the door when getting in. Obviously you got the impression that she was upset but had no idea why.

The uncomfortable car ride had finally come to an end when you pulled into the parking lot of your shared apartment. Emily hurried her way out of the car and didn’t bother to see if you were following her, her attitude is seriously starting to piss you off but you huff tiredly and reluctantly follow her.

The both of you get inside the apartment and you lean against the wall at the entrance to toe off your heels.

Emily speaks up finally, “I’m gonna shower” and stalks down the hallway, making no effort to look at you.

“… Okay” you respond but she’s already reached your room by then.

You opt to stay in the living room while she showers, not before quickly changing then dragging yourself to the kitchen to find something small to eat.

You find a leftover bag of cheezits, grabbing them and crashing on the couch. Shortly after, you hear Emily return from the shower, clad in an old training tee and basketball shorts. She’s just standing around in the kitchen as you walk in to throw away your trash.

You turn to leave but Emily starts to speak “Who.. who was that girl you were talking to at D’s party?”

This irks you deeply, she doesn’t speak to you the whole way back and actively avoids you when you actually get home and the first thing she decides to say is that?

“Dude, are you serious?,” you sigh exasperatedly “That’s the first thing you say after basically ignoring me for the past hour?”

“Why the fuck are you pissed off?”

“Why are you??!” you raise your voice slightly “I’ve been waiting for you to explain this sudden- attitude or whatever immature ass temperature tantrum it is that you’re having”

“Can you just answer my question?”

You put your hand over your face and sigh “Emily… jesus fuck, she’s an old friend from high school. Happy now?” you throw your arms up in frustration and walk back to the living room.

Emily follows you out of the kitchen “No, not really”

“Great, why is that?” you respond sarcastically

“ ‘Cause she’s your fucking ex?”

“Where did you even get that from?”

“From Karlie? Jade? They said you two were like a thing back then”

“That’s a full lie, I kissed her once- drunk at some stupid party sophomore year. You know- when I was 16 fucking years old!”

“So is she your friend or not? ‘Cause I don’t kiss my friends”

“Emily what the actual fuck are you talking about?! Jesus- I’m a grown woman now if you didn’t notice. That was 7-8 goddamn years ago”

“You let her be all over you the whole fucking night! Not that fucking fun watching your girlfriend rub up on her ex the whole night”

“She’s not my ex Emily, for Christ’s sake!”

“Bullshit-“

“And I didn’t let her rub on me the whole night, maybe if you actually chose to pay attention and realize that the second she started that shit I distanced myself and shut it down. Immediately.” at this point the both of you are full on yelling at each other, you can apologize to your neighbors in the morning “And maybe if you tried to be a fucking adult and actually speak to your girlfriend about how you were feeling, instead of pouting in the corner like a damn child, we wouldn’t be here in the first place!”

“Don’t do that shit, dude. Don’t put all the blame on me like you didn’t keep all this stuff from me”

“Are you serious? Are you fucking serious? First of all, how the hell was I supposed to know that she’d be there and second, I had no idea it’d piss you off this badly. So please explain to me how any of that is my fault”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes “Yeah, dude whatever, fuck this”

“Oh yeah sure Emily, fuck this, fuck me for responding to you because you brought it up in the fucking first place!”

“I don’t give a fuck anymore, bro” she yells as she stomps down the hallway and slams the door to your bedroom.

You feel hot tears spring to your eyes as you huff, flopping down on the couch. You quickly scrub them away with your fist and occupy your thoughts with re-runs of the Golden Girls on TV.

About 15 minutes later, the door to your bedroom creaks open and Emily comes storming out, shoving a jacket over her shoulders as she makes her way to the front door.

“Where the hell are you going?” you question

“Hailey’s” she deadpans

“Seriously? You don’t even wanna talk this out with me?”

“No, I really don’t”

“God, you’re immature”

“Fuck off, don’t wait up for me either” and with that she slams the door.

You flop on your back, laying on the couch and cover your hands over your face. Eventually the tears catch up with you and you sit there, crying on the couch waiting for Emily to return.

…

—————————————————————————

Count how many times I say “serious” in this LMAO

i’m actually really proud of this one, please enjoy ! 🫶🏾

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler headcannons

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rayroseu · 21 hours

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I feel like this was obvious already but the castle illustrated in the Holiday Card that Malleus has given Yuu is actually Wild Rose Castle 😭 Before Book 7, I assumed this was the castle that is Malleus' home (Black Scale Castle basically), but Black Scale is covered with mountains instead of trees.

Whereas both the castle on the card and Wild Rose... their trees and the shape of the castle matches a lot, the position mirrors each other.

It just makes me tear up that there is actually references to Book 7 even earlier in game !! 😭✨This scene happened before Jamil's Overblot iirc and that was released so long ago now lol???

I wonder after Wild Rose Castle became a ruin, its become an "iconic place" on Briar Valley, that they make paintings that still "commemorates it."

I really believe that the castle Malleus wants to visit is actually Wild Rose (on his Bloom Birthday Interview).

However, based on Lilia's dream, Wild Rose doesn't seem to be getting reclaimation by Briar Valley,,, even though (as assumed by the art, it seems like its still in good condition, just covered it thorns), they're just letting it decay/become a ruin. Maybe to pay respect to the faes that died with it? Kind of like the Titanic and how "we can retrieve its ruins" but its more ethical to just let it deteriorate to pay respect to the dead that rests there yk

Also there was interesting build up in this vignette before the castle part... its that Malleus can go anywhere he wants, but he cannot go to places where he is uninvited. I wonder what makes him feel that he's "uninvited" with this castle ruin???😭 Its like he's repeating Lilia's situation where he took 400 years to visit Wild Rose again. Its assumed that Lilia didnt visit for a long time maybe because of his Unique Magic that he'll see how Meleanor died on that place?? There was also this instance where it feels like Malleus is referencing Lilia's UM, just that he's not seeing the past in scenery like Lilia, just feeling their presence for a bit(?).

Funny thing is about Malleus' Holiday Card... is that he sent this AFTER the holiday in Book 4 was over JDJSJS also I wonder what he said in this letter?

Malleus has always been consistent in inviting Yuu to Briar Valley, but this fact that he gave us a Holiday Card with Wild Rose Castle, a presumably ruin near Briar Valley reminds me of his wish that he wants to go to a castle ruins with someone... If we ever visit Briar Valley, I wonder if he'll take us on tour with the ruins instead of the Black Scale Castle/Dragon Capital City (out of the Senate's view yk) lol

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wosoluver · 2 days

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La nueva g headcannons

Patri Guijarro x young physio!reader

-> what would it be like for a young physio to join Barça's nueva generación?

Meeting eachother

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Being the new girl had always been your worse nightmare, being the new girl at your new internship, in a country you had moved into recently, sounded like hell.

Yes speaking the language made it easier, kinda, since everyone actually opted for talking in Català, much to your dismay.

Even in school most of your classes followed the same principle.

But you knew that wasn't the biggest issue. You were never good at initial introductions, despite the language.

So here you were, walking into the Barcelona Femeni's training grounds for your first day.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Soon training was over, the room was filled by a few players.

"Don't worry, they aren't all in recovery. Mapi is the only one who really is.

Pina is here for a look at a mild pull on her right hamstring, nothing to worry too much about. We are just keeping a close eye on it.

Vicky and Salma will head to cryotherapy, after a massage, for muscle relaxation." you took some notes as she spoke. "I'm focusing on Mapi, the second physio will be here in a little bit, to take care of Paralluelo. Can you check on Pina? You just need you to check her leg and write down how she feels, and pain levels, that should probably be low."

"Yes, of course."

You said, walking towards where the woman was laying.

"Hey, I'm Y/N the new intern. Since we have a couple players in today, I'm doing your check up." looking up from your notes to her. She had a stunned look on her face.

"Hi hm- I'm Pina, Claudia Pina." she said giving you a big smile. But you couldn't help but keep your eyes on the paperwork.

"Excuse me." you said moving to examine her thigh. "Tell me if it hurts too much."

"Okay." and you proceeded.

"Can you tell me how it hurt on a scale from one to ten?"

"Two."

"Did you feel it during training?"

"Just a bit. Do you think you could do some taping, just for caution?"

"Yeah, let me go get the kit."

you got up and came back quickly. You did your best and soon you were done.

"Thanks! Nice to meet you Y/N."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Patri you're not going to believe! There's a new intern, she has the prettiest eyes and an accent, I don't know where from but, she's latina for sure." said the forward coming into the room where some of the teammates were in a ice bath.

"Did talk to her?"

"Not much. Just the check up. But she's your type."

"How so?"

"I don't know how to explain it. You have to see her." she said grinning widely at the thought of playing cupid.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

But you two didn't have the chance to meet, until the next game.

Patri had fell to the ground harshly, and didn't get up, after getting hit from behind from the other team's player.

You and the other medic ran straight in. You weren't even supposed to be on field duty but the head physio didn't show up in time, so you had to improvise.

"Hey tell me where it hurts." you whispered in her ear so she could hear you.

"My right leg, I'm not sure what happened but everything hurts!"

"Can you keep going or is it bad?"

"It's bad."

"Vale, we're doing a change." the head doctor signed for you to head to the locker room to evaluate her, while he stayed there at the pitch.

you only nodded and helped Patri.

"Lay here so I can take a look, please." you started to examine her thigh and knee, moving down to check her ankle.

"It doesn't seem anything too extreme, but we are definitely going to run some screening."

"I'll be fine for next game, right?"

"Not quite sure. Sorry."

"You're Y/N?"

"Yes."

"It's just, my best friend had told me about you."

"Pina?" you said sitting on the chair next to her.

"Yeah." she said thinking what to say next. "You usually aren't here for the game right?"

"Yes, but they had an emergency so I had to step up. But don't worry I'm on my last year, that means I can take care of you."

"I didn't mean it like that, you look very qualified an- I-"

"It's okay." you let out a soft laugh. "You would think for a physio team of a big club, they would be more prepared for this situations."

"Wait, what happened?"

"Head physio is running late, the secondary is supposed to be off today. So just me."

"You are quite young, for a doctor."

"I'm twenty five, getting my masters degree. And you are quite young to be a football star." you said preparing some ice to press onto her leg that was already starting to bruise.

"Touché. Ouch." she said through her teeth.

"Now we wait."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Yeah so, good news and bad news." said the doctor. "It's a moderate strain. There's no tear though. You're out for the next few days and then rehabilitation."

"Goddammit!" she said throwing the water bottle she had across the room, missing you by a couple of centimeters.

"Ay chica!"

"Sorry, I forgot you were there." she said looking up, where you were standing on the other side of the room.

"Didn't you hear? You're on physio sessions, you need me alive!" you said tying to cheer her up, seeing how tense she was from the situation.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Monday morning getting to the training grounds, you saw Patri getting out of the car, Claudia was the one driving.

"Oye Y/N!" said Pina getting your attention. "Can you help Patri get to the recovery facility? Here's her stuff." she finished putting two bags in your arms.

In truth her friend didn't need that much help. She could walk on her own and Clau could have carried it there. But what would be better than this for her to get you two together?

Patri had her mouth agape. Sometimes she could not believe the way her best friend would act.

Good thing you let out a small laugh, indicating you were okay with it. But before you could even say anything she was gone into training.

"Bon dia."

"Bon dia, sorry about her. You can give them to me."

"Of course not! She's right." you fixed the bags in your arms, so you could keep a free hand, to help her out. "Let's get you there. How was the weekend? Did you rest like you were supposed to?"

"I tried not to, but they stopped me. Overall, it didn't hurt that much."

"Are you saying that so I'll put in a word that you're doing better?"

"It hurt like hell. But I swear it already feels somewhat better." she confessed.

"That's what I thought."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Thanks to everyone for the ideas and special thanks to @itzzzitzelll and @s0ciety-cxv for basically co writing the plot and everything! 🩷

There will be more parts kind of like 'healers got to date protectors'! So send your requests in!

#woso x reader #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro

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