#little hope david | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

invinciblerodent · 1 month

Text

It's really interesting to me how apparently, if you flirt with Halsin at the party and don't then, like... dismiss it the next morning or tell him to forget it (my boy is, uh. not shy. about what he wants), his camp comments seem to change? Like I've asked how he's faring like five times now, in the Underdark and the Mountain Pass, and each time he's just said "With such stimulating company? Never better.", which is... different. I don't remember hearing that quite like that before, and I think I'm missing a line there.

I think usually, he'd have a short comment about how the Grove was too comfortable, how he was feeling a bit distant from nature in such surroundings, and how he likes sleeping under the stars again. I think. But this game, I don't recall hearing anything like that- asking how he's doing outside of the plot conversation, I don't really recall anything other than that easy, flirty compliment and reassurance.

I could be wrong or misremembering previous runs, and this could be because of something else, but I... really kind of enjoy imagining that if he knows you're at least physically attracted to him (like he clearly is to you), even if you're very obviously pursuing- or already have a romantic relationship going on with someone else (and he doesn't yet know if you'd be alright with a more open arrangement), he just... doesn't want to trouble you.

If he can convince himself that there is no future to these budding, one-sided feelings, he can be a bit more open and friendly- but if there's no denying the heat in your eyes and the concern in your voice, he... can't help but want to impress you. If he can't convince himself that there's nothing there to it, he just... can't help puffing out his chest just a tiny bit. Can't help wanting to come off as an approachable, gracious, warm presence, and not share too much about things he might think of as his personal weaknesses and insecurities; his less than perfectly cordial, happy thoughts.

Like he's... denying himself the idea of a relationship with you and feels that he must focus on the Curse, sure, but also can't bring himself not to at least try and present himself in the "best" light he can.

I really like this kind of yearning. Yearning is good. Make that man yearn. Make him earn his PhD in yearnology.

#squirrel plays bg3 #halsin #halsin silverbough #like he's anything BUT stupid; of course he can tell that there is Something #of course he knows that the attraction IS mutual- but he also “knows” that it's dead on arrival #hhhhhh something something “you learn not to hope for more. you'd be foolish to”#i wonder if david gaider and ramon tikaram know that line has its own little pedestal in my head #it lives there like a little worm and occasionally nibbles on my amygdala #oc: petyr wildbrook

210 notes · View notes

scrollonso · 2 months

Text

First Kiss (Race 5)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.9k words, angst, description of a car crash, drunk lance, fluffy ending) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {I picked David Coulthard to be the cause of the crash because he DNF in Europe 2006 and bc he's no stranger to being yelled at for crashes, LMAO}

last part - masterlist - next part

Lance walked back into the paddock, engaged in a conversation with Nico. He had yet to get his actual drivers liscense out of pure laziness so the German was left to drive them almost everywhere together.

"Thanks again" Lance laughed, feeling slightly bad for making Nico be his personal chauffeur.

"Don't thank me, I only do it so people believe our PR friendships real" He joked, nudging the taller man with his elbow

"Ow" Lance frowned, clutching his heart "Words hurt, Rosberg" He looked down, trying to hide the smile on his face

"Cmon, daddy didn't tell you he's paying me for this?"

"No way, are we both being paid?" Lance looked up, the fake shocked expression on his face earning a laugh from his teammate

Qualifying was okay, Nico secured 9th and Lance got 12th (after a minor chassis problem that caused him to have to pit for half of quali)

Lance should've been upset but he didn't mind, he'd been in front of Nico most of the season so far so he was looking forward to letting his teammate shine.

Of course he wanted to win like everyone else in F1 but the last thing he was going to do was let it ruin personal relationships he was building, work was completely different than home, his friends were different than the coworkers he knew.

He greeted Nico warmly, congratulating him as Quali ended, wishing him good luck on the race the next day.

Fernando came over not long after, having secured pole position.

"Lancito, good job today" He hummed, patting the Canadian on the back

"I'm convinced I could get p30 and you'd still congratulate me" Lance laughed, wrapping his arm around the Spaniard

"It takes a lot of skill to do so bad they have to make a new space for you" Fernando shook his head, his lips slightly curved up as he spoke

"I'm just saving all my energy for the race when I overtake you"

"Oh, really? I'll keep an eye out for you then, mi sol" He said, eyes only leaving Lance when he heard his name being called, his engineer needing him "Good luck tomorrow, Lancito. Let's get you points again, eh?"

Lance nodded, watching as the older man left, feeling his heart flutter in his chest as he thought about how he was looking up at him. It felt nice having someone to admire in the sport as much as Lance admired Fernando, he was a great driver.

Time passed faster than Lance thought it would, before Lance knew it he was lined up on the grid, eyes scanning the cars around him, David Coulthard in p11 next to him.

As the lights went out and the race begun he sent it, overtaking into p10 almost straight away, Coulthard close behind him.

It stayed this way for a few laps, the Brit almost on his rear wing as they raced, he was just trying to keep him there.

It seemed as if everything was going according to plan until the pair reached turn 14 once more, Coulthard was sure he'd be able to overtake, speeding up and reaching Lances side just to be met with their wheels touching, Lance could feel it in his body as the drivers car made contact with his, his left back tire practically flying off his car as he spun out of controll, David losing his front wing as Lance spun of the track, causing him to pull off as well, tire losing air as both cars came to a stop.

They were on opposite sides of the track, the asphalt between them stopping any conversations from happening.

Once he reached the Racing Point garage he was quick to storm down the pit lane, tearing off his helmet and balaclava as he found his way to the Red Bull garage, Brad trying to stop the fuming Canadian

"Lance, Lance stop it. Come back to the garage we need to-"

"Fuck off, Okay? This is a fucking sport and a part of that is talking it out after shit like this happens. Believe me, I have some things to say to Coulthard." He practically spat, not meaning to take his anger out on his engineer but he was the closest one there

They reached the garage, a crowd forming as the two began speaking

"Do you feel better now? Fighting with me over tenth place knowing damn well neither of us were in the position to earn points anyways?"

"I know you're a rookie so you might not get it yet but part of RACING is OVERTAKING, I was doing what I'm here to do."

"You're here to destroy my car and run me off the fucking track? Really? I find that hard to fucking believe, Coulthard."

"Oh come on, Lance. We all know your daddy doesn't have a problem with fixing your mistakes. That's how you got the seat, right? Daddy knew you fuck up too much to get a seat so he bought two for you and Keke Rosbergs son."

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, Coulthard. You know that?" Lance got closer, he already wasn't finishing the race so how much harm would a little physical contact outside of the car cause?

By now both of the teams where trying to stop the drivers, yelling and trying to get between the two men, blinded by anger towards one another

The race was slowly finishing, Fernando ending up in p2 as the fight was still going on, Lance screaming into the 35 year olds face as he scoffed, refusing to apologize, Lance didn't think of himself as a violent person but he wasn't going to stand around and let some ugly arrogant prick disrespect him and refuse to admit the crash was his fault.

"YOU RUINED THE RACE FOR THE BOTH OF US." All he wanted was for that to get through the Englishmans thick fucking skull "God, you're a fucking fils de pute." He spoke under his breath, astonished at the audacity of the racer "You know, for someone who's been racing for twelve years and hasn't even come close to a world championship you sure are a stuck up cunt."

And with that Lance was finally pulled away from the garage, David Coulthard having nothing to say in response.

Lance felt like he was getting scolded for hours, even if it was only 15 minutes, the team trying to explain how he shouldn't have done that even if it was Coulthards fault

"Lancito?" He heard a familiar voice, being snapped away from his thoughts as he shot up, leaving members of the team in the middle of their sentences to go to Fernando

"Thank fucking god you're here. Are you thirsty? I'd kill for a drink right now"

"Lancito, Are you sure drinking is the best thing for you to do now?" He questioned as if he wasn't still following behind him

"What, do you think I'm being dramatic too?" He scoffed, stopping in his tracks to turn back to Fernando, he looked mad to anyone else but Fernando knew he was just hurt, Lance hated crashes, hated not finishing, hated disappointing people, and even though the last thing Fernando was was disappointed in the boy he knew Lance would still think he was.

"Let's get you that drink, mi sol. Getting your mind off it will help, eh?"

Lance expected to be taken to some cheap place around the city but instead Fernando drove them back to his hotel, deciding it'd be better to let Lance cause a scene in his hotel room rather than in some German bar.

The two drank together, Lances lack of experience and tollerance when it came to alcohol being painfully obvious.

"He's such a prick" Lance slurred, his voice more whiney than usual

"I know, Lancito, He really is." Fernando hummed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes stayed on the Canadian

"You're like my guardian angel, Nando, y'know?" Lance looked at him, lips slightly curved before he began speaking again "Never stop congratualting me, please, it-" hiccup "It means a lot"

Fernando just nodded, setting down his glass

"I-" He stopped abruptly, drinking more "I love doing good, when I do good I know you'll be proud of me" He ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed at the long strands covering his vision "I'm sorry- I'm sorry I'm not the best, Nando" He confessed, looking over at the Spaniard "I don't deserve my seat, but- but it's okay because I get to see you, I love seeing you win, it makes what people say about me worth it when I'm the first one you come to after the podium"

Fernando just listened, not saying much as it became more and more evident Lance would forget it all by the next morning anyway

"I-" hiccup " I love seeing you walk to me, passing all the girls, they're so pretty, it makes no sense why you walk past them for me, but i love it, seeing you ignore them and look at me like I'm prettier than all of them" hiccup

He smiled, not being able to help it as he heard the younger ramble on, glad he was no longer stuck on being upset about the crash

"Don't stop, Nando"

"Hm?" Fernando hummed, watching Lance set down his glass. He took that as a chance to stand up and snatch it away, figuring the younger man had drank enough. Fernando and Lance were now closer, Fernando looking down at Lance as he awaited a response

"Looking at me like this, taking care of me how you do, please don't leave me, Nando" He begged, reaching out for the Spaniards arm "Promise me you'll never stop congratulating me after races, please Nando, I need you."

He was taken aback by the sudden change in tone Lance had brought to the conversation. Fernando swallowed dryly, staring back at the Canadian, he looked gorgeous, the waves of his hair messily laying across his face, the lighting hitting him just right to show off the gorgeous colour of his eyes

"Let's get you to bed, Lance." He whispered, helping him stand up as he walked with him to his bed, pulling back the covers with one hand while he held Lance with the other, surprised at how light the Canadian really was

He sat Lance down, kneeling to take off his shoes before instructing him to lay down and pulling the covers back up.

"Goodnight, Lancito" He whispered, brushing the hair from his face as the Canadian hummed a response, not fighting sleep as it took over him surprisingly fast

Fernando on the other hand was fighting, not sleep, but the feelings Lance brought to light with his drunken words. He hadn't thought much of it before, sure he felt different with Lance than he did with his other friends but he was so much younger that he figured he was just taking a more mature role in the friendship. Now he wasn't so sure.

71 notes · View notes